PEOPLE who leave their homes to settle in a foreign country often describe themselves feeling caught between their native place and their new surroundings. This was the experience of Ying Chen, a Chinese-Canadian writer who lives in Quebec and writes mostly in French.

“I have never felt so much Chinese until the day I finally left China,” said Ying. “I was already 28 then. Years of Chinese education had molded my character and values. It was impossible for me to integrate completely into another culture, and I felt lost.”

Born in Shanghai in 1961, Ying graduated in 1983 from Fudan University, where she majored in French language and literature. She later worked as a translator with at city’s Institute for Aerospace Technology before immigrated to Montreal in 1989.

In 1991, Ying obtained an MA degree in creative writing at McGill University, and her first novel, “The Memory of Water” was published in French by Lemeac in 1992. Written in an intimate style, the novel explores the realities of modern-day China through four generations of women.

Then came “Chinese Letters” (1993), an epistolary novel made up of the exchanges between two Chinese lovers, one of whom immigrated to Quebec. The novel touches upon themes related to love and culture shock, while also examining life in Quebec through the lens of political and sexual freedom.

“Half of my first book was actually from my thesis paper. The second is based on my own life at that time, though the characters are fictional,” Chen told Shanghai Daily at a recent interview. “Torn between my current life and memories of the former one, words were pouring out of me because I had so much to say in a language that used to be foreign but are now practiced on a daily basis. That’s how I got started writing in French.”

In 1995, Ying Chen published her third novel “L’ingratitude” which was later translated into English by Carol Volk under the title “Ingratitude.” In this short and intense novel, Yan-Zi, the 25-year-old narrator and heroine, has killed herself in order to “see Mother suffer at the sight of my corpse. Suffer to the point of vomiting up her own blood.”

Speaking from the grave in a continuous monologue, the young woman recalls the days leading up to her death — a fate of violent rebellion, punishing her mother for giving her a life she never wanted, then robbing her of the freedom to live it for herself. She also condemns her oppressive community for its lack of opportunities for personal choice.

While not a huge commercial success, the book caught the attention of Western critics. It was nominated for Canada’s Governor General’s Award and the Prix Femina for French writers of the year. It was also translated into Spanish, Serbian, Italian and Swedish.

Ying has received many positive reviews for her lean, polished and deceptively simple writing style. She has been widely featured in newspapers and television programs, although she says she’s “ruined” many of these appearances by not knowing how to respond.

“In one interview, they asked me to comment on Mao; while in another, they asked my views on the Cultural Revolution. Unprepared, I was scared. I mean how could I make judgments within minutes about things that may take generations to repent for how we allowed or enable it to take place?” Ying said.

Ying’s more recent works include “Still,” “Skeleton and Its Double,” “Reproduction,” “The Eater,” “Species,” “The Other Side of the Bank.” These books, she says, are deliberately vague in terms of setting and characterization.

“Actually it’s a series of books about the many lives of one ghost. He comes from the past, lives in the present, and goes to the future. He can be anybody, like the clothing models in today’s boutique windows,” Ying said. “Many people say I like tragedies. Well, true... but I am not a pessimist. I value the process of living more than the finished end.”

Presently, Ying said she has been working on a new book based on Norman Bethune, a Canadian frontline surgeon who was stationed with the Communist Party of China’s Eighth Route Army during WWII.

“Again, he lives again and travels from China to Canada. It’s not about the life of Bethune,” Ying said. “It’s the spirit of commitment to human life and dignity that I want to address, which is largely missing among the youth in today’s society, everywhere in the world.”

After a recent talk with students at the French Department in Fudan, Ying Chen sat down with Shanghai Daily and shared her thoughts on writing and literature.

How does it feel to write in a foreign language?

As a French major, it sharpened my linguistic abilities to use the language. Secondly, it enables me to create my characters without bias; to address issues that are not limited by time, place, or ideology; and to understand and admire culture differences. Mandarin Chinese doesn’t have tenses like Western languages, so most of my characters are ghost who lived other lives in the past. They are free to travel between past, present and future.

What’s your view on writing and translation?

To write in a foreign language, for me, is already a form of translation... For years I had been reading translated works of foreign literature in Chinese. However, it wasn’t until I read the original stories after I went abroad that I got to recognize distinctive voices. Works in translation do not reveal styles of writing, but only content at best. Therefore, I refrain from getting my books translated by others.

What does literature mean to you?

I don’t think literature should bear the responsibility of transmitting knowledge to succeeding generations. In the information age, there are many ways in learning other than reading books. Written literature no longer has a vital role in modern society, like it used to have in China just decades ago. For me, it is simply a quiet, personal way to contemplate; to understand and accept the past and present.

How have you seen the changes in China from your distance in time and place?

When I first came to Canada in 1989, I sensed that time was the biggest difference between China and the rest of the world. In China, everybody was talking about the on-going reform and opening-up process; while in the West, they still saw us in Mao’s time. In China, we used to talk about “my whole life” even when we were just in our twenties; while in the West, it seemed ridiculous to talk about things in the days ahead. In recent years, China has been catching up in time. Fast ways of living have both positive as well as negative effects on the lives of people, which reflect changes in the mind.