The short story In a Grove by Ryunosuke Akutagawa (the basis of Akira Kurosawa’s movie Rashomon) tells the tale of a murder through three conflicting accounts of the crime, one told by the deceased victim, one by the victim’s wife and the third by the accused criminal. Each account is very different and the reader can easily see the ways each narrator attempts to cast him or herself in a certain light. But each is also consistent with corroborating stories and the physical evidence at the scene of the crime. At the end of the story, one is left with the hopeless task of cobbling together some semblance of truth from the three narratives.

The problem is not dissimilar to the historian’s task of deciphering history from the accounts of those who lived through it. Unfortunately, some historians simply abdicate this responsibility, perhaps because the stories they are working with are simply too good to be checked. King Hui, one man’s recollection of his 80-year life, falls into this category, forcing the reader to confront the disconcerting ambiguities of human recollection and the way they shape an understanding of the past.

The book details the life of the singular Peter Hui, a Hong Kong native son whose supposed adventures as a playboy, brigand, gambler, smuggler, businessman, teacher and spy stretched from 1914 to 1994. Assembled by Jonathan Chamberlain, author of Chinese Gods, from extensive interviews he conducted with Mr. Hui, the book also tells the infrequently told stories of regular Hong Kong citizens who lived through the turbulent 20th century.

Mr. Hui, whose luck was as fickle as Hong Kong’s modern history, claims to have bounced from rags to riches more than once, in the process encountering opium dens, brothels, Hong Kong’s pre-World War II high society, Japanese occupiers and Red Guards. Because of his whimsical attitude toward money and underworld and upper-class connections, Mr. Hui’s tales range across almost every imaginable stratum of Hong Kong society.

The result makes for an undeniably great read that more closely resembles a picaresque novel than a life story, and this is where the trouble begins. At many points the work bears the whiff of embellishment. In the introduction Mr. Chamberlain admits that Mr. Hui had a reputation for telling tall tales, but attests personally to the validity of the stories: “The stories he told over the years didn’t change. If he was a liar he had an impossibly good memory…. As we talked I set him small subtle tests. He passed them all. I have no doubt at all this is a true story.” Be that as it may, without any footnotes or points of verification, one cannot help but wonder about the truth of Mr. Hui’s stories.

For example, Mr. Hui was trained in kung fu and over the course of the book describes at least a dozen fights, only one of which he loses—he is drunk and tackled by a group of policemen, if that can be considered losing a fight. In one instance he recalls punching his way through 15 porters to escape from a warehouse. As he sets the scene he describes each man carrying an object that might be used as a weapon, but the porters mysteriously do not get to use their weapons. This draws suspicion to other unverifiable tales, such as Mr. Hui’s career as a spy for the Japanese during the Cultural Revolution or his acquisition of all of the opium in Hong Kong—given to him by the Japanese at the end of the occupation only to be confiscated by the British several days later.

Fortunately Mr. Hui’s seemingly hyperbolic stories have little effect on the historical insights and impressions gleaned by his depiction of old life in Hong Kong. For instance, in one episode Mr. Hui describes a Taiwanese translator who, because he had connections with the Japanese, would drunkenly roam the streets banging on the doors of random houses. When let in he would rape the women of the house. In Mr. Hui’s story, he came upon the man one night in Happy Valley, took exception to his behavior, beat him in a fight and told the man never to come back—and of course the man never did.

While the story is unverifiable, it does reveal the vile reputation, indeed worse than the Japanese, that Taiwanese and Koreans managed to acquire during the occupation. And Mr. Hui’s own description of the man cursing and banging on doors in the abandoned streets leaves a strong impression of life under curfew. In an alternate example, whether or not Mr. Hui was a spy, his descriptions of border crossings from Hong Kong to China and the struggles families went through divided between Hong Kong and the mainland add a personal touch.

For someone familiar with Hong Kong’s past, the book gives fascinating insight into the lives of Hong Kong citizens over the century. But the novice Hong Kong reader is advised to lean on a more traditional history, such as Frank Welsh’s A History of Hong Kong or Steven Tsang’s A Modern History of Hong Kong. Although Mr. Hui’s experiences are insightful, they are not always representative of the bigger picture. For instance, Mr. Hui largely dismisses the taking of Hong Kong as a day of concussions heard across the bay. But there are incredible stories of Hong Kong’s defense, such as that of the Methuseliers, a company of elderly volunteers who for 24 hours fought off repeated Japanese assaults.

On the occupation Mr. Hui recalls, “Some people say that the Japanese soldiers were very cruel. That was not my experience. I did not have the impression that they brutalized the people. There were cases certainly. But I have to say, from my own experience, they behaved correctly.” However, Dr. Li Shu-fan, who opened a hospital in Kowloon during the occupation, estimated that he alone treated 10,000 cases of rape, and records agree that sidewalk executions, usually by bayonet, were common. Mr. Hui does describe two incidents of torture he witnessed, but having done an excellent job currying favor with the Japanese, he is more preoccupied with wartime horse races than wartime atrocities.

With explanatory notes and some reportorial work, Mr. Chamberlain might have better verified some of Mr. Hui’s stories and assembled an outstanding contribution to Hong Kong historiography. Instead we must be content with this nonetheless-significant work which, if read with a discerning eye to pick the historical wheat from the chaff, offers up an intimate understanding of 20th century Hong Kong.

Mr. Mozur is a Princeton in Asia fellow at the REVIEW.