Elegant, colourful and clever, especially clever. Which is Chi 's weakness as much as it is Alexander Besher's strength. And for all its bar-room brawls, low dives and kickboxing matches between man and buffalo, the reason Chi isn't really a thriller is that thrillers need plot, usually quite a lot of plot and Chi is almost plotless, at least in the traditional sense. There is no progression of character, no unexpected twist of fate to drive the narrative. Macguffins are supplied a plenty, but these come and go so fast they hardly touch the consciousness of the reader.
Events happen - and that's it.
What's more, the 'events happen, live with it' approach to narrative seems entirely intentional. Occasionally Besher lets the action make sense but more often than not events in Chi don't even follow the book's own internal logic. But, bizarrely enough, it doesn't really matter. And those who don't like Besher will regard Chi as rampantly self-indulgence. Review by Jon Courtenay Grimwood.