
The cover of "The Cuttlefish" by Chris Tharp / Courtesy of Plum Rain Press
Chris Tharp’s ‘The Cuttlefish’ may be his first novel, but he has certainly brought his considerable writing experience to bear in its creation. The misadventures of Zach, an English teacher at a private academy in an East Asian country who ends up in prison, may sound neither original nor inspired, but that is exactly what Tharp delivers. Shifting between humor and seriousness, the novel’s pacing and perspective keep the reader engaged to the final page.
It’s common to expect a unique experience when setting out to live as an expat English teacher. Being dropped into a foreign land as a small minority, it’s easy to think of oneself as special. However, it doesn’t take long to notice that these ‘special’ expats are easily sorted into archetypes, and one particular trope seems to stand out: "Zero to anti-hero."
If you can read the words ‘directionless underachiever’ without feeling personally attacked, you’re a better man than I was when I first came to teach. I didn’t much like Zach as the story began; he reminded me of the worst qualities in so many of us. There was a lot not to like, as he initially comes across as entitled, lazy and unprofessional. What I did begin to like was his desire to be more and do more with himself, and his awareness of his many inadequacies.

Author Chris Tharp / Courtesy of Will Jackson
As the character is fleshed out, the layers of trauma and experience that formed Zach are peeled back, and we feel some sympathy along with the familiar frustration of wanting more for this lost boy in never-never land. He transforms from another expat acquaintance to our screw-up friend, not through inevitability but by our own investment as we turn the pages.
“Years of quasi-hippy jet-setting had spoiled him to the realities of adult life, and he knew he had to do whatever it took to avoid the sentence of forty-hour-a-week drudgery.” While it refers to Zach’s decision to enter grad school, this sentence manages to hit two bullseyes in preparing us for Zach’s misadventures. Firstly, it so succinctly summarizes the reasons so many begin their expat ESL life. Being “spoiled to the realities of adult life” resonates not only with newcomers but countless veterans of the profession. Second, ‘avoid the sentence’ provides great foreshadowing of Zach’s inevitable drift towards the clutches of the Cuttlefish, the eponymous prison that receives early mention. We don’t yet know how he’ll get there, but we know Zach’s destination.
The fictional Sukhan is immediately recognizable as a proxy for South Korea. Bizarre English expressions for products, peculiar names for sports teams, dancing supporters in the lead-up to the presidential election and certain counterintuitive beliefs related to health all ring familiar. While cultural criticism and wry observation are applied in all directions, it is the expat teachers and their home countries who receive the lions’ share of the author’s barbed wit.
Early descriptions of Zach’s friends are cardboard cut-out expat tropes, but the author takes care in filling in the details of the more interesting characters, particularly the very well-written women.
“The Cuttlefish” is a litany of crises for poor Zach, but as he falls deeper, he somehow flourishes, and the transformation is both enjoyable and impressively believable. Tharp delivers, and while the story can be devoured like an order of Zach’s favorite dumplings, the lasting impression is surprisingly filling.

A poster for a book release party for "The Cuttlefish" by Chris Tharp at Busan's HQ Gwangan this Saturday / Courtesy of Plum Rain Press
"The Cuttlefish" is available on Amazon.
Tharp will celebrate the book's release with a party at Busan's HQ Gwangan this Saturday starting at 6 p.m. Entry is free, and books will be available for purchase. Visit christharp.journoportfolio.com for more information.
Arlo Matisz is an economics professor at Chosun University in Gwangju.