Publishers Weekly
05/15/2023
This stimulating if uneven posthumous anthology from novelist and sociologist Xiaobo (Golden Age), who died in 1997, brings together 35 pieces of his nonfiction, including philosophical musings, book reviews, and personal anecdotes about travel and his upbringing. The title essay details how the author covertly found intellectual stimulation from a contraband copy of Ovid’s Metamorphoses during his years in an army-run commune in China, where the only permitted reading material was Mao Zedong’s Little Red Book. Selections on sex and sexuality show their age. For instance, Xiaobo’s reflection on his 1992 sociological study of gay men centers on the now obvious conclusion that “there is in fact a widespread male homosexual population on the Chinese mainland,” and his suggestion that appeasing “radical feminists” would require him to “undergo a sex change and castrate myself” is overwrought. He fares better when meditating on his time studying sociology in the U.S., serving up brief, humorous dispatches on food and clothing (“There were only a few occasions in which you couldn’t dress casually”). Not all of the pieces work, but Xiaobo’s sharp criticisms of how state censorship constricts intellectual ferment resonate, as when he excoriates state censors for excising discussions of sex from novels (“Could Hemingway write something that would satisfy the ? I think not”). This is worth dipping into. (July)
From the Publisher
A Rest of World Book From Around the Globe To Read in 2023
"Wang Xiaobo is a truly unique writer, and there are very few writers like him . . . perhaps only a select few are capable of expressing their life experiences, imagination, and sexuality in relation to a vast and omnipresent political environment as Wang Xiaobo did."
—Ai Weiwei
"Consistently insightful and often charming . . . A wide-ranging, humorous, often sharp collection." —Kirkus Reviews
Kirkus Reviews
2023-05-13
First English translation of a collection by the prominent Chinese intellectual.
These essays, which Wang Xiaobo (1952-1997) wrote during the 1990s, cover a range of topics, from literature to sexuality to food. What binds them is a concern for the value of an examined life and a wry awareness of the diverse ways in which humans fail to reap the rewards of thinking deeply. “Stupidity is the worst sort of misery, diminishing the intellectual capacity of mankind is the worst sort of atrocity,” writes the author. “To teach ignorance is the worst crime committed by otherwise good people.” Wang is consistently insightful and often charming in his commentary, particularly in his consideration of the logic of censorship, the consequences of intellectual confinement, and the importance of individual resistance to tyranny. Most vivid are the descriptions of Chinese social relations at home and in expatriate communities in America. An essay on village culture memorably describes how information flows are managed by “aunties and grannies [who] are the deities of the earth, an omniscient network.” Another documents the popularity of inane health practices such as arm-shaking and transfusions of chicken blood. The author also conveys in searing detail the soul-crushing demands of the Chinese American restaurant industry, which the author came to know firsthand. Alongside philosophical reflections, the author provides numerous sketches of quirky characters. One highlight is the extended description of an aged, lonesome American farmer, nicknamed Old Lady Wolf, who attempts to teach Wang conversational English by having him recite Milton’s poetry. Less successful are the essays devoted to feminism and homosexuality, which can seem both platitudinous and antiquated in their approaches. Nevertheless, Wang offers an illuminating window on life in China—and Western life seen through the eyes of a Chinese traveler—at the end of the 20th century.
A wide-ranging, humorous, often sharp collection.
