manwithcompoundeyesTaiwanese author Wu Ming-Yi echoes David Mitchell as hard-edged realism meets extravagant fantasy, writes Tash Aw in The Guardian

What do you expect when you pick up a novel – very probably your first – from Taiwan? A spiky assertion of independence, perhaps, or wistful, Japanese-inspired fables? The literary landscape of mainland China has begun to take shape for western readers, but that of Taiwan remains a blank – despite the island’s sophisticated and long-established publishing industry. The English translation of Wu Ming-Yi’s intriguing fourth work of fiction simultaneously plunges the reader into the melting pot of contemporary Taiwanese fiction and refuses any attempt to define it.

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