Summer Feeling

It's been a long summer so far, and it just started. I've been working at the tutoring center at the college, but it's rather slow. I'm averaging one student each day--that's one hour of tutoring for a six-hour shift. Fortunately, this leaves me with plenty of time to catch up on reading. So far, I've read Khaled Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, Dostoyevsky's Notes from Underground, and Rudy Rucker's Spaceland. I wasn't impressed with any of them, though at least A Thousand Splendid Suns was culturally intriguing. Now, I'm reading through Rushdie's The Satanic Verses, which is far superior to anything I've read recently.

While I drift off in literary wonderland at work, I'm also caught up in my plans for a summer holiday (or lack thereof). Jia is heading off for another business trip to China, combined with a trip to see her family and friends. Unfortunately, she'll return before I have my full vacation from the college (I say "unfortunately" because I managed to find a semi-affordable flight to China during my vacation). Now I have to decide if I take a trip during my time off or if I take a few three-day weekends away from New Jersey. Of course, I can still hope that someone will send me on a travel writing assignment to China.

Semester Endings

The semester is just about over. At least my classes are finished for spring. And I don't have to deal with final exams because the department grades all the essay exams to ensure consistency throughout the courses (we have a lot of adjunct instructors in the ESL department). I have discovered just how difficult it is for students to pass the level that I teach--across the level, only about 25% pass the final, and the rest have to repeat the course. This semester, about a third of my students were repeating the class (two of them for the third time). Fortunately, most of my repeat students passed the final.

Overall, it was a good semester with only a few bumps in the road. I thought one particular student would give me a difficult time through the semester. He was a repeat student with a lot of potential. Unfortunately, he could be a little stubborn and occasionally tried to control the class. He was in danger of failing because he didn't do any of the homework, and I gave him one final chance--he had to write eight essays in a week. He came in the following week with all his work done (and it looked suspiciously good). When it came time for an in-class essay, I saw that his writing improved exponentially (my suspicion dissipated). Somehow, everything I taught showed up in his writing after one week of extreme pressure. He easily passed the final exam.

One thing I enjoy about teaching ESL at a community college is the stories I hear from students. I tend to hear more personal stories while tutoring at the writing center, but my students in class enjoy sharing as well. One of my favorites to talk with at the writing center was an Indonesian nun. She was in a level below the class I taught and she had some difficulty with grammar. Every week she came in to work, she immediately asked questions about specific points of grammar--she knew what she needed to do to improve. Her greatest obstacle for passing the class was that the essay questions are geared toward a wider range of students and she doesn't share the same experiences (asking a nun about television shows is rather unfair).

Now that the semester is over and I don't have to teach for summer, I can enjoy reading again. I'm on my third book in three weeks. I was finally able to get around to Yan Lianke's Dream of Ding Village. It's a great translated work of fiction about the blood-selling scandal in Henan province that infected thousands with HIV and AIDS. It focuses on one particular village devastated by the disease. Although there is no overt criticism of the government, the book is banned in China. I will write a more in-depth review of the novel for Terracotta Typewriter.

You're to Blame

I don't know why I read opinion articles anymore--they just make me want to bang my head against a wall. Political commentaries are the worst with mangled and bastardized "facts" and statistics that suit the particular writer's point of view while ignoring any contradictory argument no matter how well-supported it is.

But the opinion piece I'm referring to today has nothing to do with politics. It's about how Peter Hessler has ruined another foreigner's experience of living in China (yes, there have been others with this complaint). China Daily ran this article yesterday (which was posted elsewhere online a week earlier):

Peter Hessler singlehandedly ruined my life in China.

I've never seen Hessler, author of the bestsellers Oracle Bones and River Town, but I eke out a bitter existence every day in his footsteps.

Sounds rather harsh. Fortunately, the writer added a little bit of what passes for humor in some circles. The real complaint is that all the stories expats love to tell their friends back home have already been told by Hessler in one of his three books. There's nothing left for foreigners in China to do to impress the folks back home. Hessler previously issued an apology for "ruining" the China experience for everyone else.

After reading his books (I'm almost done with Country Driving), I can say that he didn't ruin anything for me as an expat in China or as a writer. I have many stories to tell that Hessler never experienced (or at least didn't write about). With the size of the country and how quickly it changes, there will be plenty of tales for foreigners to regale us with.

I met Peter Hessler at an author event at Asia Society last month and have exchanged e-mails with him (he is a very nice guy). He admits that there are still books to be written about China--but writers have to search a little deeper to find them now.

I Am Legend

I saw the movie I Am Legend a few months ago and enjoyed it. However, I have to say that I enjoyed the 1954 book by Richard Matheson much more.

I really thought Will Smith did a very nice job playing the part of Robert Neville, and the writers, Mark Protosevich and Akiva Goldsman, developed the character quite well (I didn't like the ending though). The greatest difference with the movie character and Matheson's Neville is that the movie portrays him as a military doctor/scientist while the book has him as a factory worker. To me, it's more interesting to read about a layman investigating a disease that's wiped out humanity.

What really sets Matheson's I Am Legend apart from its movie counterpart is the development of the vampires. For one, the movie has them as just monsters of the dark that don't seem too intelligent. The book gives the vampires an identity, and makes them slightly sympathetic.

The movie is still worth watching, but I Am Legend is much better when read.

Review: Managing the Dragon

One of the greatest challenges of doing business in China is that the country and its laws are constantly changing. The greatest challenge to anyone who writes about doing business with China is that once the book is written, the country and its laws have changed. However, Jack Perkowski does a very nice job of balancing his experience and advice with the ever-changing business landscape of China in Managing the Dragon. Even some of the laws he mentions have already changed in the year since this book was published. Fortunately, he spent enough years in China to see the changes for himself, and he's willing to share his experience with readers.

It's difficult for me to comment on specific business advice that Perkowski provides in his book because I'm not a businessman and I don't know all the laws in China. But, much of his advice can be applied to those who intend to spend an extended time in China. He mentions that the first time he saw a Chinese factory he thought, "[W]hat we need here is some good old-fashioned U.S. management to get these places organized and cleaned up!" Unfortunately, many people have this thought when living and working in China. Perkowski makes it a point that one can't change China or impose American-style management so easily.

Perkowski provides specific examples of the processes he and his partners went through in creating a successful company. He describes the business end of every step of the process as well as the cultural. As with creating any business, he makes clear that it's not easy and requires careful planning. While there is plenty of advice that should be obvious, he also includes his plan to create a high-caliber local management team--another tremendous challenge considering the lack of managerial talent in China compared to the much larger need.

One of the highlights of Managing the Dragon is that Perkowski doesn't focus on the negative or the positive--he balances all of his anecdotes. He admits to some serious problems, and discusses how he and his company fixed them. He also shares experiences that were amazingly positive even though he didn't have that much to do with the outcome. He shows readers the extremes that one might encounter--personalities of the managers and workers, landscapes and accomodations, and anything else he's experienced in more than 15 years in China.

Managing the Dragon is a great guide for anyone who wants to do business in China. But, it's also useful for anyone who plans to work there. I would even recommend this book to English teachers who will work in China, because it helps explain a lot of the attitudes and managerial techniques that one may encounter.

Review: Waylaid

The title has a dual meaning that can make you laugh and cringe at the same time.

Ed Lin's Waylaid focuses on the life of a vulgar, yet intelligent adolescent who is forced to live and work at a sleazy motel at the Jersey Shore, because his parents own it. The unnamed narrator has an obsession with sex and getting laid at an early age. He's exposed to these thoughts by the Bennys (city dwellers from the North Jersey/New York area) and the johns that frequently rent the hourly rooms at the motel.

Fortunately, Waylaid goes deeper into the narrator's life (as Samuel R. Delany once told a class, "Hell is having to read other people's pornography."). Lin deals with the concept of being "other"--the narrator is the American-born son of Chinese immigrants. While his parents still embrace their Chinese heritage while assimilating into society, their son is very Americanized (he doesn't even eat Chinese food). One of the challenges they face is that they are the only Chinese family in the town. To complicate matters, the narrator has to cope with being the kid whose parents own the sleazy motel. All of this means that he has next to no social life outside of school.

The narrator, like many adolescents, resents his parents for controlling his life. He also brushes aside almost any adult who shows him kindness--he tolerates talking with them, but hates to listen to what they have to say.

Lin writes about racism toward Asians, but he doesn't include a serious tone when writing about it. Most it comes off as being comedic--it sounds so unbelievably ignorant that some might laugh at the characters' stupidity.

This novella (it's only 168 pages) lives up to Lin's description of it being his "dirty book." If it wasn't for his humor and bizarre situations (it is the Jersey Shore after all), this would be trash. If you can get past the profanity of the adolescent narrator, this is an amusing read.

Review: Fugitive Pieces

A beautiful, yet painful story told through poetic prose is rare find in mainstream contemporary literature. Anne Michaels' Fugitive Pieces is a wonderfully engaging novel with poetic language that continues through every page.

Jakob Beer is rescued from his hiding place in a swamp in Poland by Athos, a Greek geologist, who adopts the child. He stays hidden in Athos' house in Greece until the end of World War II, and they decide to emigrate to Canada. Over the years, Jakob attempts to integrate in society and cope with the loss of his family that he barely knew at the hands of the Nazis. Athos and his friends become Jakob's family and help understand the world around him. His memories of his parents and sister slowly unfold through the years. The work he does with geology, poetry, music, and translation help him to find the connections to his past.

"I tried to embroider darkness, black sutures with my glinting stones sewn safe and tight, buried in the cloth: Bella's intermezzos, Athos's maps, Alex's words, Maurice and Irena. Black on black, until the only way to see the texture would be to move the whole cloth under the light." (164)

Even after his death, Jakob helps others understand the loss of their parents. Though his parents survived the Holocaust, Ben, who was born in Canada after the war, has difficulty communicating with his parents, and doesn't cope with their passing until after going through Jakob's work in Greece.

Anne Michaels creates characters that impress the reader through their faults--their inability to express themselves is what shapes them. Her skill as a poet shines through the prose as the paragraphs become almost musical.

Review: The Mao Case

I should begin with a disclaimer: I have not read a mystery in a very long time, and I've never been an avid reader of the genre. I have also never read the other novels in this series.

Qiu Xiaolong's The Mao Case is an overtly political story with hints of poetics and history that fall flat. There is a mystery in the story, but it arrives too late in the novel to maintain interest.

The mystery begins with Chief Inspector Chen of Shanghai investigating a case from China's Internal Security about a woman who could possibly release information that could humiliate the memory of Mao and the communist party. As flimsy as a premise as that may sound, the story continues with tales of a movie star, Shang, who was one of Mao's secret lovers, and the tragedy of her family. The history provides Shang's granddaughter Jiao with a motive and possible material for the plot. Chen's role is to infiltrate an intellectual group that meets at an old mansion in Shanghai and parties like it's 1930. There are also some subplots--mostly about Chen's lost love who gets married in Beijing. 

There are many times that lines of translated poetry is quoted by Chen and others. These lines should provide the reader with insight into the mystery that is unfolding, but they often do not. The politics is so overwhelming in the first few chapters that it feels like Qiu is hitting the reader over the head with his views. There are many conversations about the Cultural Revolution, and its impact on how people live today.

The real action of the story doesn't arrive in the novel until almost 200 pages into the 289 pages of the book. Even when the mystery finally comes close to its end, it sounds rather half-baked--almost an afterthought thrown into the mix. 

While the story itself isn't engaging, Qiu does show some glimmers of hope in his prose. There are passages that sound poetic and descriptions that grab the reader. 

Again, Chen was lost in a recurring dream scene--of an ancient gray gargoyle murmuring in the twilight-covered Forbidden City, in the midst of black bats flapping around the somber grottos--when he was awakened.

Unfortunately, those moments of literary beauty are not consistent and get lost in The Mao Case.

The Last Picture Show

I just finished Larry McMurtry's The Last Picture Show. This was the first time I picked up one of his books.

Published in 1966, McMurtry's novel follows the lives of a select few in the town of Thalia, Texas, a rather small and dull town. The main characters, Sonny and Duane, are high school seniors who go through a routine that involves the movie theater, cafe, and pool hall--just about the only things to do in the town in the 1950s. While the story revolves around the two friends, it is intertwined with others in the town who impact both their lives. In the span of a little over a year that takes place in The Last Picture Show great changes occur in Sonny and Duane's lives--there's romance, sex, and heartbreak and altercations.

While the novel takes place in a small Texas town in the 1950s, the story is rather timeless and its themes universal. There are emotions of characters and situations that almost anyone can relate to. McMurtry's prose sin't complicated but conveys the mood of the situations, and the dialogue reflects the regional dialect and education level of the characters.

For those who don't want to take the time to read The Last Picture Show, there's always the 1971 film with Jeff Bridges.

Review: Wolf Totem

Recipient of the 2007 Man Asian Literary Prize, Jiang Rong's novel Wolf Totem is a cultural and environmental journey through a fictional region of Inner Mongolia during the Cultural Revolution. While the translation by Howard Goldblatt is culturally enlightening and filled with beautiful descriptions, it is tedious and slow moving.

Wolf Totem centers on a group of students from Beijing who are sent to live in Inner Mongolia. Chen Zhen takes the lead role in learning nomadic Mongolian lifestyle and educating the locals in Mandarin. Chen and the other students also pass around foreign books to read and pass the time, without any concern for the fact that they are banned by the government. He and the others are taken care of by the village elder, Bilgee and his family. Bilgee takes a particular interest in teaching Chen about Mongolian beliefs and respect for the wolves and nature.

Chen's fascination with wolves leads him to capture a newborn and raise it. His plan is to study the wolf and, with luck, mate it with the Mongolian dogs to breed a stronger dog for sheep herding. The young wolf's life then follows a similar pattern to that of the nomadic people and the modernization of the region.

As time passes, more Han Chinese move into the grassland and damage the ecosystem, causing more problems with wolves, which leads to the near extermination of wolves in Inner Mongolia. The students and locals raise their concerns about the forced life changes that they must make in order to welcome all the new people and work for the government. Of course, their concerns and objections are ignored and the grassland turns to desert.

Jiang Rong's novel is rather anti-Han. Aside from the Beijing students, every other non-Mongolian is villianized for the destruction of the grassland and disrespect toward the Mongolians. At one point, Chen asks a Han migrant what he'll eat next year if he continues to kill all the animals. The migrants response is, " 'Didn't you people call us migrants? Migrants, migrants, mindless immigrants....We go where there's food and never worry about the year after that.' " There are plenty of instances of the students witnessing what they perceive as disrespect for the land. Each time they see something they don't like, there is a confrontation that ends with the Han migrants acting apathetic.

The novel begins with strong scenes and explanations of life on the Inner Mongolian grassland, but does not maintain that same level of interest throughout the 524 pages. Much of the narration becomes tedious and repetetive--it's unfortunate that so much needs to be explained about the Mongolian life in order for huge sections of Wolf Totem to make sense to a reader, thus making it read like a textbook.

Review: Red Gold

In Nazi-occupied Paris, the people attempt to survive any way they can--some cooperating with the Germans and others resisting. Alan Furst's work of historical fiction, Red Gold, takes place between September 18, 1941, and April 8, 1942. It follows the life of former film producer Jean-Claude Casson who is a fugitive after escaping from a Gestapo prison. 

Casson, who has taken on the identity of Jean Marin with the assistance of fake papers, lives day to day in Paris on what little money he can make. He finds opportunity in working for the French resistence through connections in his former life. The former French military wants to form an alliance with the communists who have begun to resist the German occupation since they broke their treaty with Stalin. Casson joins in the operations because he feels he has nothing else to lose.

Red Gold reads like a 1950s film noir, but it's more interesting than that. The details of Paris and the history of World War II that Furst includes makes this novel more intriguing to readers. Other than Casson, the characters seem like nothing more than silhouettes on the background of history--their only purpose is to move Casson through each day, either in a helpful manner or by creating a greater burden on his life.

While Red Gold is not on the list of great books that I've read in recent years, it is entertaining. It's a pleasant leisurely read that provides an interesting perspective of history.

Long-overdue Review

I have finally finished reading the 1981 Booker Prize-winning novel by Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children. In the time I've read this novel, I've read at least five others. That's not to say that this isn't a good book, it's just that I constantly got sidetracked. I have previously read Rushdie's Fury, which was also enjoyable.

The novel is a narrative memoir of Saleem Sinai, a child born on the stroke of midnight at the time of India's independence from England--an event that binds him to history and to the other children born during that same midnight hour. The event of his birth not only binds Saleem to the history of India in a magical sense, but it also provides him with powers to pursue what he claims is his destiny.

The novel begins in a conversational tone, with Saleem almost unwilling to reveal the truth of his existence. He continues into the past generations of his family in Kashmir that affected his life's course prior to birth. He progresses into tales of childhood, including the discovery of midnight's power and the other children to whom Saleem is connected.

Rushdie writes a terrific novel that is culturally enlightening and entertaining. He incorporates a bit of dark humor to lighten the serious tone of much of the narrative.

Review: A Million Little Pieces

I did not have high expectations when I picked up the copy of A Million Little Pieces by James Frey that my friend gave me a couple years ago. Those expectations were exceeded only slightly.

James Frey's A Million Little Pieces follows the author's recovery from severe drug addiction while in a rehabilitation center.

It's not that I have a problem with claims of lying in a memoir--I looked at this as a piece of entertainment rather than a true story. The problem I have is with the actual writing. Frey's work reads like a repetitive grocery list. And the format (lacking indentation and quotation marks) makes an editor want to throw a style manual at the author.

Style and format aside, A Million Little Pieces isn't all bad. There is an interesting story in the mess with characters that are slightly sympathetic for recovering drug addicts. However, readers don't necessarily need every single detail about the author's time in rehab. I really didn't care what he had to eat at every meal.

The book could easily be cut down by about 150 pages without losing any significant points of the story. Of course, seeing as it is a quick read, losing those pages would also save readers about two hours.

In Bloom

I have been reminded that today is Bloomsday. I have also been informed by Danwei that James Joyce's Ulysses was translated into Chinese in 1994. Amazingly, it was a bestseller.

I read Ulysses in English during the second half of my Modernism class in grad school. It was rather difficult to understand then--and most of the class had an annotated version to help along. I don't think even if my Chinese was up to par that I would ever attempt this epic. I never really planned on reading it again in English.

I am curious as to how accurate the translation of Ulysses might be. How did they handle the absinthe trip through the brothel? I'm reminded of walking through Book City with Jia and coming across some books I didn't expect to be translated (original post). The translation of Kerouac's Desolation Angels may have been well done, but it still doesn't mean that people can understand it.

For anyone interested, Peking University has the Chinese version online.

The Exquisite

There's a line between dreams and reality and Laird Hunt's The Exquisite staggers across that line, leaving the reader wondering which side is which. Everyone has a hidden life and no one is ever eager to reveal the truth. As Henry, the narrator, says, "Once upon a time I was someone then that stopped." Everything is explained in roundabout ways to leave the reader wanting to know more and only occasionally discovering what might possibly be the reality of the situation. Even when the truth is told it is difficult to embrace as Henry isn't the most trustworthy narrator--the reader is never sure if he's dreaming, hallucinating from medication, in a mental ward, or living a real life.

The Exquisite takes place in New York, mostly the East Village, not long after the terrorist attacks--there is no exact date and the event is only vaguely referred to. The scenery is poetically described, even if the reality of it isn't quite so scenic. The story of Henry revolves around Rembrandt's painting The Anatomy Lesson, from which Aris Kindt obtains his name (or perhaps from which his namesake obtains his name). Through Mr. Kindt, Henry meets the others--Cornelius, The Knockout, The Contortionists--and joins in their business endeavor that involves mock murders, paid for by the victims.

The novel shifts in time--each chapter is a specific time that seems to flow between in a hospital and walking the streets of New York. In both times the characters are the same but different. There is a distinct possibility that Henry is delusional and sees the same people or he just confuses people with similar characteristics. Unraveling the mystery surrounding identity is part of the experience of reading Hunt's novel.

Although confusing at times, Laird Hunt makes The Exquisite an enjoyable read. The wandering narration of Henry is an intriguing voice no matter how unusual the thought process. There is plenty of dark humor--jokes about death, murder, love, and herring. And although the herring is repeatedly mentioned, there is never a distinction if it happens to be red.

As the reader bounces between worlds, there is always something to pick up on. Whether it's a dream or reality, there's something significant. The mockery of murder leads to a double life, just as the discussions of Mr. Kindt's past lead to ambiguity. "[F]ake is funny, don't you think? Fake is like Steve McQueen and the movies--there's always a little real there too."

Laird Hunt is also the author of The Impossibly and Indiana, Indiana.

Review: The Truth

Terry Pratchett is strangely witty--that's the best way I can think to describe his novel, The Truth. Published in 2000, this work of Pratchett is a great commentary on politics and news reporting of its time (and possibly the future).

The Truth is a fantasy novel that really has little to do with the fantasy world and more to do with social commentary and the search for the truth. It possesses all the fantasy elements--dwarfs, vampires, trolls, wizards, zombies, and the like--but only uses them in comic situations (or when poking fun at fantasy stories).

Pratchett's novel revolves around William de Worde, a man who is hired to write a brief newsletter every now and again for the elite citizens of Ankh-Morpork. His life changes drastically when some dwarfs turn lead into gold in a sense. Before encountering the dwarf Goodmountain, the newsletter was simply engraved and printed. The dwarfs use the lead to make movable type for a printing press--and the Ankh-Morpork Times is born. However, the engravers decide that de Worde's paper is a threat to their livelihood, and open a competing paper, The Inquirer, which simply runs stories that false yet interesting for the local populace.

The Times begins its life just as a devious plot to frame and unseat Patrician Vetinari unfolds. The plot involves outsiders, Mr. Pin and Mr. Tulip, being paid to do the deed by whatever means necessary. De Worde finds himself in the middle of the scandal of Ankh-Morpork, frantically attempting to write the truth for the public to read.

Terry Pratchett's prose is witty and humorous--there are moments of brilliant insight and outright laughter. This is a work of fantasy that will appeal to aficionados of the genre as well as those who would rather not read book filled with dwarfs and vampires.

Lost Art of Translation

I've previously written about the quality of foreign books translated into Chinese that Jia and I have found here in Shenzhen (post 1 & post 2). I was quite pleased to find such worthwhile literature for Jia to read--I was looking forward to discussing these books with her to see how faithful the translations were. I also had the goal of learning enough Chinese to read Kerouac's On the Road.

The joy and astonishment has worn off here. I recently read an article (translated from Chinese) about the quality of translations in China. It seems that there are some severe problems with the modern works that have garnered critical acclaim. The ranks of Chinese translators are dwindling, and have been for some time. The article points out the obvious reason: the pay sucks. The average wage for Chinese translators is only 60 kuai for 1000 words (I'm not sure if that's per foreign word or per Chinese character). It is estimated that 1000 words is average for a translator to accomplish in ONE DAY. So, for a full-time translator of literature that comes to an average of 1800 kuai a month (assuming he/she works 30 days a month). Compare that to the minimum wage in Shenzhen, which is between 800 and 900 a month for unskilled labor.

Publishing companies could give a raise to the translators, but we all know that'll never happen. Translations just don't make money--it's the same as in the U.S. The real problem with the publishing industry in China is exactly the same as the problem with the publishing industry in the U.S.--people just aren't reading enough.

More Translated Books

As I have mentioned previously, I have found an interesting variety of foreign literature translated into Chinese. Many of the books have been surprising (such as Lolita, Catcher in the Rye, and On the Road).

The other night, I decided to buy Jia a gift of a few books and search for a new Chinese book for myself. The first book I noticed was Jack Kerouac's Desolation Angels--a book I once picked up in English and thought it incoherent. I asked Jia to read it in Chinese, thinking it might make more sense--her response was, "Kan bu dong," "I don't understand." I guess they did a good job translating.

The next two books were much more surprising than the others I've seen. Hanif Kureishi's Buddha of Suburbia--a wonderfully comic novel that has a bit more decadence than you'd expect for anything in China. I seem to recall a bit of sex, drugs, and even divorce (things that don't go along with a "harmonious society"). The second book we got was the Ray Bradbury classic, Fahrenheit 451. I'm absolutely shocked to find a book about the dangers of government censorship in China. As J. said, "Maybe it's a ploy: Not censoring a book on censorship to make it seem there's no censorship." Anyway, we bought the books so Jia can read them and then discuss them with me to see if they've been censored.

Other news: In Skekou, due to the construction of the new subway line, a few businesses have had to close down because of a lack of customers (these include Subway and Pizza Hut, as well as some smaller restaurants and bars). The construction involved closing a road and building a wall in front of about 10 stores. According to Jia, the business owners have put up a sign criticizing the government because they were not part of the decision to put a subway stop across the street from Sea World. They're mostly unhappy because they are not being compensated for lost business. The wall blocking access to the businesses has been up for about a month.

Lost in a translated bookstore

I guess this can go along with my previous post about Americans not reading enough... but I doubt I'll make a connection.

Jia and I went to pick up a copy of Kite Runner in Chinese at Book City. Of course, we found it in the foreign books section--which is fairly large considering how much space is dedicated to literature in general (not much). I thought it fascinating to see so many foreign titles translated into Chinese. There were a couple new Stephen King novels and loads of classics from all over Europe, as well as plenty of 20th Century titles. I really wish they had such a selection in the English-language section (instead they have poorly translated Chinese poetry and abridged English classics).

I was a little shocked by the sight of a few titles, however. I found a copy of The Devil's Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce and a couple works of George Orwell (not 1984, which hasn't been translated to Chinese). I was much more surprised by On the Road by Jack Kerouac and what appeared to be a collection of the Beat's poetry. I wondered how the government censors allowed On the Road to be published due to its content. I was also a little perplexed by how they could have translated his poetry--hell, I don't understand some of his poetry and I've taken classes taught by his friends and contemporaries.

This gives me a new goal for my Chinese education. I am determined to read On the Road in Chinese. I'd also like to attempt Lolita in Chinese since I saw a while back being sold on the shelves of Wal-Mart.

On an semi-unrelated topic: I hate Norton Anti-Virus. It's making my computer slower than a retarded senator. I decided to upgrade it earlier this week since my subscription ran out, and now it's slower than ever. It took me 15 minutes to open a Word document. When I go home in February, I'm going to pick up some different software and save myself the agony of impatience.

Review: Triton

Triton is my second encounter with the science-fiction work of Samuel R. Delany. The first book was Nova--a fascinating piece of work both in style and content. Triton is very similar in its style and ability to capture a reader's attention. It is complex look at the world of politics, art, and relationships.

The story of Triton revolves around Bron Helstrom, a former male prostitute from Mars who is now working on Triton as a metalogician. Bron is a sort of lonely character as he mostly shuts his own emotions off from those around him--as opposed to other characters who openly express themselves. He is outwardly unemotional until he wanders through the u-1 unlicensed sector and discovers The Spike, an actress who runs a microtheater troupe and becomes Bron's object of desire. There are also the characters of Lawrence, an older man in whom Bron confides his emotions, and Sam, a government officer whom Bron quietly admires.

Coincidences are encountered in Bron's life throughout the course of the novel--so many, in fact, that even Bron considers it fate at times. Among such moments are many chance meetings between Bron and The Spike and mutual acquaintances.

The complexities of the world that Delany creates in Triton have to deal with subjects as vast as politics and war, sexuality and relationships, and origins and customs. Triton is caught in the middle of a war between allies of Earth and allies of the moons without a side to choose--and the reasons for war are never fully explained, adding to the confusion of life on the world. Relationships on this world are primarily sexual, and in this reality it is possible to alter one's sexual preference, leading to confusions of gender and preference. And there is plenty of stereotypes to go around about people born on different planets and moons--one phrase that echoes throughout is "everyone is a type." The people all migrate to other planets and moons to encounter varying cultures (even within Triton), but still hold their own traditions and stereotypes.

Samuel R. Delany is adept at creating such spectacular science-fiction worlds with his use of language and style. Yet, he keeps to the simplest of ideals in that the science is always secondary to the plot, which gives the reader an enjoyable encounter with a world removed from reality but based in the basic emotions and concepts of life.