My master’s thesis was about Wang Shuo and his “conversation” with Mainland China’s ’80s intellectual establishment. It was good enough to pass–despite Tian Xiaofei’s basic antagonism to my purpose and some admitted deficiencies. Nonetheless, I got a few things right, really, really right, which to this day no one has sufficiently appreciated. And on the eve of the 25th anniversary of Tiananmen, it’s worth revisiting.
I was always partial to Dennis Rodman, ever since the “Bad Boys” Detroit Pistons days when he was known as The Worm and led the league in rebounding, technical fouls and weirdness. In his career, he won 5 NBA championships. He made it into the Hall of Fame. And then he dissolved into pop culture haze until last year when he surfaced in North Korea doing something that desperately needs to doing: de-regulating diplomacy.
Those who’ve read my previous blog posts (all four of you) know that I often write in praise of Beijing. I have many good memories of the city and life there. But it was an acquired taste. In fact, for the first several years I disliked it intensely. In fact, one of the worst periods of life I’ve ever endured took place in Beijing, a few months after arriving.
In the course of my 15 years in China, many friends have simply disappeared. They flared up for a short period of time and then just as quickly burnt out. Most of the time, it was them leaving. Sometimes, it was me saying goodbye. Most of them I have forgotten. But not Pete Shelton.
What follows is a translation of Wang Anyi’s essay from the late 1990s called “’Shanghai Style’ and ‘Beijing Style’”. I found this essay in a collection called Searching for Shanghai and, because I am fascinated by the endless comparisons between these two cities, I translated it here. To my knowledge, it’s the first time it has ever been translated. In a separate post I’ll write more about what I actually think about the points she raises.
I spent a week in Beijing which corresponded almost exactly with the most recent airpocalypse. PM2.5 levels held steady between 400-500 for seven straight days. This has been a regular occurrence for the last three winters. So it’s time to ask: how are we to understand Beijing’s poison fog? What insight can it bring?
Below is a bilingual guide to Journey to West (西游记). It alternates bite-sized chunks of the original text in Chinese with English translation. Enjoy!
A new 3D, CGI-amped version of the famed Chinese tale of The Monkey King (大闹天宫）came out a few days ago in cinemas across China. As expected, the new version is not particularly good.
Ah, Saigon. In the last six months I’ve spent two weeks there and formed favorable impressions. Part of it is the warm weather. Part of it is the food. Part of it is the beautiful women. Part of it is because everything is cheap. But there are other, more important reasons.
On almost every sidewalk in Beijing you’ll find a strip of bricks, different from the others, stretching in a nearly unbroken line all around the city, from Sanlitun to Wudaokou. Probably you’ve never noticed them. They stretch the four sides of a city block, perpendicular lines meeting at the point where the sidewalk slopes down to touch the pavement. They even lead deep into the city’s metro stations. The bricks have specially molded raised ridges atop them and are often even a different color, which is ironic because they are clearly meant to be used by blind people.