Interesting memoir, well-written and informative, though it does not fail to occasionally read as a textbook.

It can be hard to write a memoir that is truthful but also a compelling read. This book gave a lot of details and facts, but it failed to capture my attention in a meaningful way. This read much more like a history book than a memoir. It lacked feeling and enough plot points to push the story along.

This is a collection of tidbits as the author remembers his service in the Hongkong police force, special branch, and later as investment adviser for Britain. The information about the police force is the most interesting. However, it is a strange book it is part memoir, part history, it lacks in both. The title is also misleading as it is mostly about Hong Kong and very little on China. The book mentions several crucial events, like the Great Leap Forward, Cultural Revolution, and the Hong Kong riots but offers no in-depth knowledge or analysis. While I did enjoy the tidbits, I found the whole book rather disappointing esp as the title promised so much.

Inside China, a memoir from Chris Fraser OBE, is a wild mix of insightful commentary and sexual adventures. This isn’t unusual for expat memoirs, but it is unusual is to read such details from someone who isn’t a backpacker or English teacher.

A Cantonese speaker with over fifty years experience working for the Hong Kong and British governments, international corporations and organisations, his insights into foreign investment opportunities and the realities of international business relationships are essential reading for anyone thinking of working or living in China. Many of these stories involve face saving measures, prostitution and corruption. Although the time period he writes about wasn’t that long ago, changes in technology and the swift development of China adds a quaint touch, even if that wasn’t the author’s intent. For example, people of my generation will be surprised how fresh out of the military he found an international career out of a newspaper advert.

The book starts with his memories of serving as a Royal Marines Commando and as an officer in the Hong Kong Special Branch. His time in the Marines, which he described as a “character forming experience,” prepared him for his initial Spartan living conditions in Hong Kong. Readers today might be unaware of how multicultural this workforce would have been. Fraser shares his experiences of working within the justice system with locals, mainlanders, Pakistanis and Australians. New HK Force officers were recruited from Shandong, due to dissatisfaction from the “British and other Europeans of mixed quality, Indians and local Cantonese.” Similarly, he describes the issues with the Pakistani police unit being “riven by internecine disputes among officers from different villages in Pakistan.” However, they were perceived to be more trustworthy.

There’s a brief but illuminating history of the KMT’s involvement in moving Hong Kong away from opium towards heroin, with harrowing stories of how ill-prepared the force was for managing addicts. He doesn’t delve deep into court procedure, but he does mention how cases were being heard by a British or Australian magistrate. These magistrates could not speak Cantonese and would have their court essentially run by a local clerk who would pretend to interpret directly while instead advising locals to plead guilty for a lower fine – resulting in less paperwork for the court to process.

Many of these stories are very ‘boys will be boys’ and much of this banter would be totally unacceptable today. Considering his OBE, I raised my eyebrows that some of the jokes were even printed. There’s a fair amount of sexual acts in the book, involving everything from water pistols to animals. However, the book is better for it, as it shows how things were rather than a sanitised history for today’s sensibilities. I do wonder if anyone working in government positions nowadays would be permitted or even encouraged to have such in-depth knowledge of the ‘girlie bars.’

The strongest section was on how he dealt with irregular migration in the 1960s. He describes the return of illegal immigrants across the HK/China rail crossing bridge at Luohu. I was unfamiliar with the ‘Touch Base Policy’ which allowed those who reached the Immigration Office Headquarters on Hong Kong Island to stay. Many attempted this process several times. It’s a reminder of how little we knew about what was happening in Mainland China during the Cultural Revolution. We can only imagine the strain of trying to piece together an overarching story from interviews with incoming migrants and protecting other clandestine sources. Even the seemingly straightforward case of fleeing migrants had unseen government aims. Many of those trying to claim Cantonese heritage had exit permits, which was the Chinese government’s way to expel undesirable people and to take some pressure off their system. The police force then had to set up an impressive interviewing system which required recruiting people with regional knowledge and language ability to determine the applicant’s true birthplace and story. Through this, Fraser “learned to swear in Cantonese, Fujianese, Hakka and Mandarin…”

It is astonishing now how much power one young official had in immigration decisions. Presented with an elderly man who was seeking right of return, he found that the man was originally an overseas Chinese from Jamaica and had been so nervous about his immigration interview he had wet himself in the queue. After he was let in, mostly out of sympathy, Fraser was presented with a cake by the man’s local sister. One can’t help contrast between how these cases would be assessed in today’s inflexible and automated schemes for visas.

I especially enjoyed how many slang words he included in the book, such as ‘jellyfish’ for traffic cops, who floated on motorbikes down the traffic in billowing whites sleeves. Nicknames given to expatriate colleagues by local Chinese staff were creative and brutal. It’s surreal to read his description of Shenzhen as “the small town” which was “populated then by farmers and fishermen.” He also translates many jokes around the office, which were usually about women or masturbation. It’s the inclusion of these humorous anecdotes which make this book feel real. It’s an excellent narrative with the eternally boyish humour of a former military man and police officer.

From his time on the police force to bringing investment to the North of England, he weaves in an extensive amount of Chinese history into the narrative. He includes enjoyable descriptions of old Shanghai and commentary from his well-connected Chinese wife, who I wish had received a bit more coverage. Fans of old Shanghai will enjoy his descriptions of properties and personalities of the Sassoon Family. The second half of the book is very timely, but also more uneven. I would have liked to hear about whether the changes in China affected him and if so, how. For example, he writes about the downfall of Bo Xilai and the death of Neil Heywood. It would have been interesting to read about how he felt about his own security or precautions. Does he fear accidental entanglement in international disputes? Were partners in the UK concerned over his wellbeing? Setting issues of personal safety aside, he dedicates a chapter to advice for doing business in the PRC, sensibly starting with researching local assistance through your chambers of commerce, commercial sections of diplomatic posts and seeking advice from overseas Chinese organisations. He also outlines some of the differences between Mainland and HK Chinese people and some of the tensions between them. There are better sourced and more academic perspectives on Chinese cultural differences, Hong Kong national security laws, PRC politics and business affairs out there. It is his personal experiences, however, such as hearing “I would rather trust a foreigner than those HK people,” that shine the most and that is what you should read this book for.

I do wish Fraser had been encouraged in the epilogue to pull back a bit from commenting on current events and instead reflect on what it was like to go from a Scottish boarding school, to the Hong Kong police force, to attending events with royalty and being awarded the OBE for “Services to Inward Investment into the North of England.” As a teenager Fraser declined attending university and his exasperated father wondered what he would do for a “proper job.” By the end of the book he was internationally recognised for bringing jobs to the UK. Perhaps he felt some pressure to make this book timely or relevant, but the reader takes so much more away from his first-hand experiences. Overall, this memoir is a humorous collection of bar room stories from a member of the prestigious 48 Group Club and Old China Hand.

This book was provided by Troubador Publishing Ltd. for review.

An interesting memoir from someone who has spent decades working in and in relation with Hong Kong and China. Fraser's writing style is not the most captivating, which is a shame because the book contains a fair number of interesting details and observations -- especially in the portions covering his career as a HK policeman. Later chapters focus on his work in business which weren't as interesting, but that's perhaps to be expected. In some ways, I think this memoir should have been longer -- Fraser moves on quite quickly from pretty much everything, and doesn't dig particularly deep into the context in which he was living and working.

This had a lot of potential, but was ultimately a little disappointing. It needed a keener editorial eye, and beefing up with more details. However, if you're looking for some details about life in Hong Kong pre-handover, and some insights into business with China, then you may well find something of interest in "Inside China".

What an interesting perspective. As someone who works in politics, China is such a large geopolitical player that this book really helped me get a better look into the country. I appreciate the writing even though it read more like a textbook.