The cultural background of Shanghai is the prime attraction of Qiu's mysteries. Inspector Chen will remind the reader of P.D. James' detective Adam Dalgleish, both are intellectuals and poets, although Chen has to work with a bureaucratic government in a country still transitioning from traditional China to a more capitalist economy. Chen has been given a promotion but in fact he has been removed from his job, and placed on so-called "convalescent leave" to prevent him from taking part in investigations and with that, taking the spotlight. Fortunately he has been given a secretary, Jin, a student of history, who is more than willing to help the famous Inspector Chen, now Director Chen.

For wealthy patrons of grand restaurants who want something even more lavish and opulent it has become fashionable to attend private kitchen dinners where small groups are treated to special dishes by a single chef. In this case the chef, Min, hired a helping hand, who is found murdered after a dinner. The murder has something in common with a story from the Tang dynasty that Chen is researching. This is an intriguing mystery, with excellent characters, unfamiliar food, and an out-of-the-ordinary setting. I'm looking forward to another Inspector Chen mystery especially if Jin is included although I doubt if I'll ever try the food.

This was Chen's description of the meal he ordered for Jin:

"The hotel brochure describes the wok-fried rock frogs as a must-have mountain special. Because of its constant jumping among the rocks, a rock frog's legs are supposed to be particularly sinewy and tasteful. Fermented tofu is another highly recommended local special, like stinking tofu elsewhere, but with a hairy cover on the surface. As for the stinking bass steamed with dried mountain bamboo shoots, it's also a celebrated Anhui delicacy. You don't have to touch it if you don't like the smell. And I don't think I need to say anything about white porridge rice with a thousand-year-old egg, salted duck, mountain mushroom, organic cold tofu mixed with chopped green scallions…"

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Xiaolong Qui's Inspector Chen mystery series has been around for a while, but it's new to me—and am I ever glad I discovered it! I don't know if this comparison will mean much to many people, but discovering Qui was like discovering a Chinese Leonardo Padura Fuentes. Qui who was born in China, chose to remain in the U.S., where he was working on a book about T.S. Eliot. after the government's violent response to the Tiananmen Square protests. For a period, he was an exile, but is now able to travel between the U.S. and China.

As a result, Qui is in an excellent position to write about life in contemporary China. He's chosen to do this through his creation of Inspector Chen Cao, an ethical policeman who is deeply uncomfortable with the "necessary compromises" made to keep socialism in the Chinese manner functioning on a day-to-day basis. You know that kind of thing—the diplomat whose pilfering of embassy funds is kept hidden because the government finds it more valuable to keep him in his position during crucial negotiations (note: this is a hypothetical example; The Private Kitchen Murder has noting to do with diplomats, embezzlement, or a potential international crisis). Chen is critical of malfeasance, but still embraces the goal of developing a socialist China that can offer a better life for its citizens. He's not naive; he's also not completely cynical.

Reading this novel was fascinating because I know so little about modern Chinese history—my reading has been limited to a few Cultural Revolution memoirs. The Cultural Revolution is long past in The Private Kitchen Murder, but still a significant part of the contemporary zeitgeist. Characters walk a very fine line, even with trusted friends, regarding what can and can't be said—and have to consider all possible interpretations and uses of an action before taking it. Qui's depiction of Chen working his way through this kind of puzzling existence while trying to marry ethics and realism puts the reader into a very productive (I think) sort of unease. Like Qui, readers have to play out events in the manner of a chess game, anticipating moves and moves in response to those moves and further moves into response to those moves.... Chen mourns the loss of aspects of the China of his past, despite its poverty, but also recognizes the kinds of economic growth (for some) that a gradual move toward semi-capitalism has allowed.

The Private Kitchen Murder is well-plotted, so it satisfies as a mystery as well as a cultural portrait. Chen also makes a fascinating central character, something along the lines of Steve Burrows' Domenic Jejeune or P.D. James' Adam Dalgleish. He's not just a successful investigator, he's also a translator of English/Chinese poetry, a poet in his own right, and a student of Chinese history. Chen can contextualize events not just in relation to the Cultural Revolution, but also in relation to internal politics of the Tang Dynasty. In other words, this is a book that will keep you thinking along multiple paths.

Depending on how one counts them, there are 10-12 additional novels in this series, The Private Kitchen Murder being the most recent. I'm going back to start with the first and work my way through the series. Soon. The time spent doing that reading will have been exceptionally well invested. I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own. ( )