On Friday, May 3rd, I had the privilege of being one of the guest speakers at The Aftermath in Hong Kong for Jun Pan's presentation of her debut work The Palm Reader. Published by CP Cambridge, it is a captivating collection of interconnected short stories, poems, and photos, filled with vibrant and colourful pages.

Dr. Jun (Janice) Pan is the author of this book. She holds positions as Associate Professor and Associate Head at the Department of Translation, Interpreting, and Intercultural Studies, as well as Associate Dean (Research) at the Office of the Dean of Arts at Baptist University, Hong Kong. She is also a prolific writer and poet.

The event drew a significant audience, and after several speeches by other guests, my good friend and fellow poet Sam Powney and I had a stimulating conversation with Jun. Our discussion ranged from the art of palmistry to the various themes explored in the book; Jun's creative process in writing and translating; the selection and relevance of the accompanying photos; the significance of numerology; and her future writing projects. This engaging dialogue was followed by Jun's reading of some chapters or sections from The Palm Reader. Additionally, we had the pleasure of sharing our favorite excerpts and participating in a Q&A session with the audience.

The fascinating feature and the originality of Jun Pan’s book is how the stories run parallel, and mingle with the photos and the short poems to become a single or multiple narration that is part of the palm reader’s life. Consequently, this book can be interpreted as a novella, a collection of stories, a theatre play, or even a diary. The stories and life sketches run like water, an element found in each physical location, which streams as the heart line in the palms of the hand.   

At its core, love is the overarching theme, acting as the unifying force that flows through people’s and June’s lives. June is the actual palm reader, a theatre artist, a playwright, and the narrator - whose name bears a striking resemblance with the author’s.

All the protagonists have a story to tell – alone or in a choir – and secrets to share, and play a role in the development of the narrative. They grapple with disillusionment and endure the pain of lost or unrequited love. June’s secret lover from Brighton, consistently referred to as ‘you’, is a painter who follows her across the globe, yet also serves as a source of turmoil, stirring up memories that surge forth vivid, tender, and painful, as if pushed out like magma from a volcano – weaving the fabric of the book’s storyline.

There is a compelling necessity here. Regardless of the memories stemming from June's cherished moments with her lover, they demand to be recorded, and preserved, becoming integral threads of a past she yearns could one day return, together with him.

One of the chapters that caught my attention, due to its exploration of the meaning of water, is titled Aachen. According to the ancient Greek philosopher Thales from Miletus’ cosmology, water is the essence of all matter, with the Earth as a flat disk floating on a vast sea. In the thermal baths of Aachen, water emerges as the ultimate force, symbolising regeneration, unity, but also separation. From here, we travel to many exotic places with the narrator, in a continuous state of movement.

Another captivating aspect of the book is the constant presence of food, wine and drinks, often observed through a discerning eye. Food is a source of comfort and healing, evoking memories such as June’s late grandmother's lotus root and pork rib soup. The pairing of dishes with specific wines is a metaphor for the compatibility between individuals and their attributes. As noted in the chapter Live to drink or drink to live? (p.69) “The right supplement can be discovered, but not deliberately sought. The more effort one puts into sustaining the blended flavour, the faster the taste buds lose the feeling of fulfillment”. Wherever the palm reader ventures, there is a dish or a drink that cements the memory of the moment.

June’s travels from reality to memories mark the highs and lows of her love story, and in these moments the recollection takes the form of diary entries - very detailed and full of longing - as seen in Edges of the Sea, where the theme of 'foreignness' emerges. While the palm reader easily navigates diverse cultures and languages, her lover appears to merely follow, perhaps under the illusion that love alone can weather the shifts in careers, cultures, and countries without needing adaptation.

The Palm Reader also unfolds as a story within a story, as the protagonist eventually pens a play bearing the same title. This narrative centres on a wandering gypsy woman who travels the world, reading the heartlines of people and animals.

Despite new vicissitudes in her life, June remains a melancholic and nostalgic character. These qualities permeate the novella with a sense of saudade, the overarching theme of the book. In life, there’s something not yet finished, or absent, evoking a longing sensation. This is, in my view, the most salient takeaway from Jun Pan's debut work: the notion that something may be within reach yet simultaneously elusive or ephemeral. Despite the fact that we persist in cherishing memories, preserving photographs, revisiting the past, and mourning our losses, the lesson from The Palm Reader is to move on, to keep going.

As stated in the Epilogue (p. 153), “Indeed, the palm lines tell us where the beginning starts, what goes in-between, but not, what happens in the end.”

Thus, whether we place faith in the narratives spun by palm readers about our lives or not, the lines serve merely as an 'entrance'. It’s up to us to find the exit.

Images courtesy of Jun Pan