Book Reviews

Sixteen months incarcerated in Hong Kong's Stanley Prison did former corporate titan John Hung a world of good. He emerged slimmer, more modest, wiser and with a newly written autobiography. The resulting book, Master of None, How a Hong Kong High-Flyer Overcame the Devastating Experience of Imprisonment (2011, Blacksmith Books, 309 pages), reveals his unorthodox learning experience.

By all indications, Hung, a 72-year-old retired former chairman of Wheelock and Co and executive director of Wharf Holdings, learned more in jail, especially about himself, than he ever did as a student or a business executive. No matter what happens, the lessons in life always continue and may accelerate, if only people take the time, or become obliged, to notice.

Some people with visions of grandeur wildly exaggerate their own importance and how much their observations or experiences may interest others. For most of the book, Hung appears prone to this flaw. He writes in an arrogant, boastful tone (“my ascendancy in the company was meteoric”) likely to annoy readers enough that they'll hurl the book against walls. Some may toss it into Victoria Harbor.

Well-written life-stories usually stir empathy and sympathy. For hundreds of pages, Hung churns up animosity instead. Even the death of a family dog prompts him to groan and complain. “By unanimous decision, we were to give Basil a Christian burial.... Starting at 8 p.m., I commenced digging in complete darkness save for a small light which shone from the kitchen window. Excavation with a simple garden spade was hard work, made only slightly easier by the mud which was gradually being made softer by the driving rain. It took me close to three hours before the burial site was made ready. I was drenched to the bone and developed an aching back.... My chronic bad back might have started then.”

Whether it's sporting success (mostly in cricket), astute business deals or meeting famous folks, Hung likes to play up his own role. When he falters, it's due to bad luck or unreliable partners.

Best known in Hong Kong, Hung also has strong links to Britain, Singapore and New Zealand. His family tree grows from Chinese and Scottish roots. He's bilingual and worked equally well in English-speaking or Chinese environments.

With a close-up view of important political and business events, like when Hong Kong switched to Chinese sovereignty in 1997, Hung might have told a fascinating tale to shed new light on history. His boss and friend Peter Woo even aspired to become Hong Hong's first chief executive. But Hung hardly scratches the surface, keeping the focus on himself.

“A new era had begun. I was consumed by mixed emotions. There was every reason to welcome in the future, as China's economic might would support Hong Kong commercially for a long time if we played our cards right. Yet I could not help feeling there would be aspects of social life that I would miss. I realized again how British I was in my habits and how much I loved cricket, dry humour and time spent with my good friends over a few wee drams of single malt.”

On Hong Kong's lack of democracy and sullied freedoms, Hung writes only what's abundantly obvious. “Hong Kong is not a country, but a special administrative region of China. In practice, when it comes to matters of importance, the ultimate decisions are invariably influenced by Beijing.... And Beijing's directions cannot be ignored.”

The author's arrogance slips a little when writing of his 2009 conviction for corruption, allegedly after receiving financial incentives to promote a Hong Kong Jockey Club membership application. He moans about false accusations and unfairness, surely common complaints among convicts.

How are the prison accommodations? They fall short of Hung's past standards. “The cell was about six feet by nine feet. It had a bolted-down fiberglass bed not quite long enough for me, a tiny corner table, a plastic stool, a polished metal wall-mounted mirror, and a toilet with an attached wash basic both made of stainless steel. This was to be my home for what seemed like a long sentence – a grim prospect indeed.”

When settling into prison life, the author turns whiny. His bed is “rock-hard’, the food is “bland and tasteless” and there's no coffee or alcohol. He even grumbles about needing to write letters rather than use email or telephones, almost as if he feels entitled to keep the conveniences of his home and office. “We had no access to Internet or email, and no effective use of telephones. There were only a couple of hours of television (mainly coinciding with children’s programmes) and the South China Morning Post was normally available by late afternoon. I relied largely on the radio for news, mainly through the ever-reliable BBC World Service or RTHK Radio 3.” It hardly sounds harsh.

Hung even laments that jail-yard sports are restricted to soccer, basketball or volleyball when he prefers cricket, tennis and golf. Readers shed no tears about this.

As for his fellow prisoners, “Quite naturally, having been at the top of the corporate pile, I was not accustomed to mingling with the majority of the inmates whose backgrounds were so different from mine that there was a degree of disconnection between them and myself. Most were there for drug-related offences, homicides, arson and such felonies, with not too many for white-collar offences. The majority of them could not relate to what I stood for. I did not expect them to.”

Not only that, but “the language was atrociously rude. Never had I been in the company of people who swore with such regularity – every utterance was invariably punctuated with impolite references to the mothers of their friends.”

Some of the worst phobias about prison prove unfounded. “The fear of being beaten up or sexually assaulted was far over-exaggerated. So long as I was polite to my fellow inmates and befriended them, there was nothing to fear. In fact, despite the crimes they had committed, I found the majority extremely nice, generous and kind, and had no problems getting on well with them.”

For readers who persist until the end, Hung redeems himself in the late pages. When his arrogance finally fades, thanks to the inevitable reflections that accompany being in jail and writing about the past, his words turn almost magical. Suddenly sincere and no longer pretentious, he undergoes an attitude-adjustment that feels tangible to readers. It's so welcome, such a positive change, that some readers (those who didn't throw the book into the harbor) may pump their fists in celebration or cheer aloud.

“Somehow, I found it more purposeful to count my blessings and reflect on what I had ironically learnt from the reluctant time spent in Stanley. I had managed to resist the strong temptation to feel bitter towards people and the system.... I found it pleasing that I had developed a great sense of compassion and empathy towards people, a heightened awareness of philosophy towards life and the acceptance that there are inevitable ups and downs.”

Then the book's title, implying that Hung did many things in his rich life, but failed to fully master any profession or conquer the world, feels just right. “This book is a reflection of the many events that have affected my life, the success accomplished in a wide array of activities and the accolades bestowed on me. Ironically, however, I never managed to reach the pinnacle of any of these pursuits with my true potential fully exploited. I am thus in essence a jack of all trades, and a... Master of None.”

Ultimately, Hung grasps some of life's most valuable lessons, things that all-too-many people never comprehend, yet others always do. “I have learned that life is not all about success or the need for recognition by others.... Prison has taught me that one can exist on basic necessities and whilst we all enjoy luxuries, I am certain that I can do without these even when I return to society.... I no longer regard corporate or social status as important so long as I have my family around me and the basic essentials are there to permit comfortable living to a reasonable standard. Excesses are, as the word itself connotes, really surplus to basic needs.”

With many pages to despise, but some to love, Master of None gives an uneven reading experience. Like life, it delivers highs and lows, rewarding persistence.

The John Hung who eventually leaves Stanley Prison, after serving his time, appears to be a much better person than the one long active in corporate boardrooms. The more-mature-minded man ending the autobiography surpasses the lesser guy who started it, thanks to a quiet transformation behind thick prison walls.

Somehow the author's late-life learning makes sense. To quote from the dust-jacket, “Does a man need a stint in jail to complete his life experiences?”

Approval rating: 51 per cent.