There are novels that are rooted in a very specific historical, social, and cultural context, yet still resonate with other cultures; novels that open a window to distant and unknown worlds while simultaneously telling stories that resonate with us, perhaps because they address universal themes that transcend cultural boundaries. One such novel is Wild Fruits by the Chinese author Sheng Keyi.

Xiaohan is the narrator of this novel, a young journalist of peasant origin from the southern region of Hunan who recounts her family's history. She does so with a certain ironic detachment and a healthy dose of dark humor, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that many of the events she narrates are truly dramatic. We enter her family through the portraits of her closest relatives: a gambling-addicted grandfather who teaches her calligraphy, a despotic and abusive father, a submissive but supportive mother, an ex-convict brother, another intellectual brother involved in the Tiananmen Square events, and a sister who goes from paternal to marital abuse. This family unit grows throughout the novel through marriages, love affairs, friendships, and children, allowing the narrator to show us, through interwoven stories of different generations, the intimate face of China over the last sixty years.

Thanks to Miguel Sala Montoro's magnificent translation from the Chinese, we can hear the singular voice that Sheng Keyi creates with the character of Xiaohan, enjoy the beauty of her imagery, the musicality and narrative rhythm that never falters, and the dark, biting, sometimes scatological humor of this author who, despite her harshness, does not forgo tenderness when looking at her characters. Wild Fruits reveals the complexity of a country that, for most of us, seems both enigmatic and exotic. After reading this novel, the distance between us may shrink a little. And that is already a great deal.

(From the prologue by Edurne Portela)