Mr. Caran, a Frenchman, has written an unintentional satire on American puritanism and an intentional farce about Chinese capitalism. When the American 7th Fleet uses Hong Kong as a recreation spot (1952-1953), enterprising Mr. Pang sets up a striptease palace with a string of girls built mainly like Jayne Mansfield. Roaring sailors photograph his demure Chinese nudes until the British police crack down. Then he sets up an artist's studio where they can be sketched, then a shoeshine parlor for sailors serviced by the girls in clear plastic raincoats, then a Chinese laundry, etc. Each time his new scheme is sprung by a bumbling British inspector who has fallen in love with Miss Orchid, a classical Chinese beauty as flat as a Dixie Cup spoon. Soon, American service men are holidaying in Hong Kong and it's quite believable that Americans would spend millions on visual titillation--they've been doing it for years. Mr. Pang is last seen in Paris, married to Miss Orchid, and in line for a knighthood. There's not a dirty word or prurient detail-- but then the French have always had the power of suggestion... So-so.