Frutos salvajes

There are novels that are anchored in a very specific historical, social and cultural context and, even so, travel well to other cultures; novels that open a window to distant and unknown worlds and that at the same time tell us stories that challenge us, perhaps because they deal with universal themes that transcend cultural borders. One of them is Wild Fruits from China's Sheng Keyi. Xiaohan is the narrator of this novel, a young journalist of peasant origins from the southern region of Hunan who recalls the history of her family. She does it with a certain ironic distance and a good dose of dark humor, despite (or perhaps because) many of the events she narrates are really dramatic. We enter her family through the portrait of those closest to her: a gambling grandfather who teaches her calligraphy, a despotic and abusive father, a submissive mother who supports her in her studies, an ex-convict brother, another intellectual brother who gets involved in the events of Tiananmen, a sister who goes from paternal abuse to marital. This family nucleus grows throughout the novel based on matrimonial bonds, love affairs, friendships and descendants, which allows the narrator to show us, through intertwined stories of different generations, the intimate face of China of the last sixty years. Thanks to this magnificent translation from Chinese by Miguel Sala Montoro we can listen to the singular voice that Sheng Keyi creates with the character of Xiaohan, enjoy the beauty of his images, the musicality and the narrative rhythm that does not decay at any time, the black humor, poignant, sometimes scatological from this author who, despite her hardness, does not renounce tenderness when she looks at her characters. Wild Fruits shows us the complexity of a country that for most of us is hermetic and exotic. After reading this novel, the distance that separates us shortens perhaps a little. And that is too much already.