Hemlock's Musings The Intriguing Life Story of a Nobody A review of King Hui – the Man Who Owned All the Opium in Hong Kong by Jonathan Chamberlain Blacksmith Books

When he died in 1993 aged 79, King Hui was an elderly semi-destitute who had been settled for decades on the island fishing village of Cheung Chau.  Among those who knew him he perhaps had a reputation as a bit of a bore, cadging money and drinks; he had no family or even a home – he squatted in the office of an animal charity.  Many didn’t even realise he was there (two residents of the island at that time, one a principal public official, had only the vaguest recollection of Hui when shown the book’s pictures of him by this reviewer). Before dying, Hui told this book’s author – a long-time resident active in the community – what he claimed to be his life story.  Out of what must be scores of hours of taped conversation comes a unique oral social history, mainly covering the 1930s-50s.  Written in the first person, it is a rich account of Hong Kong (and at times Guangzhou) as seen at street-level: family life, food, schools, shops, and corruption, vice and squalor, set against a backdrop of colonial rule, Japanese invasion and communist revolution.  The details are often fascinating; for example, details about how some Hongkongers prospered under Japanese occupation.  For anyone who wonders what Hong Kong must have been like in those days – the sort of people who look in amazement at Hedda Morrison’s barely recognisable low-rise, third-world town – this is the main reason to read this book. Hui’s personal story is, on the face of it, intriguing.  Trained in martial arts, he was a top student, a hustler, a fighter, a racehorse owner, a womaniser, a possible candidate for marriage to Winnie Ho, a spy, a gambler, a teacher of English to Japanese officers expecting to invade New Zealand, a witness to Japanese torture, a Canton tombola house operator and, as the title says, owner for a brief time of all Hong Kong’s opium.  Though at times rambling and discursive (the book is probably best read in small doses), the voice of a real character comes through loud and clear: he did not lead a wholesome or honourable life, and he is defensive, proud, maybe a bit vain.  Was he a liar?  The details suggest many of his yarns are true – no-one would make up a story about fighting with a bus conductor while on an essential errand for a wife who has just given birth.  The ‘spying’ on the Mainland has an air of authentic banality about it.  But sceptics will occasionally hear the voice of a fantasist and find holes to poke in Hui’s tales.  For example, the extreme lavishness of his wedding doesn’t tally with his lousy job at the time as a cocktail lounge cashier clerk. The author says he believes it all; readers will have to make up their own minds.  It doesn’t really matter.  It is a parable of the unknown Hong Kong Everyman, going from rags to riches and back again but never giving up.