China in Ten Words

“For me, as for a bus driver who drives back and forth along the same route, my starting point is also my last stop. My busload of stories sets off from daily life, pulls over when it reaches junctions with politics, history, society, and culture—or with memories and emotions, desires and secrets—and sometimes it pauses at outlying stops that may not even have a name. Some stories disembark along the way, while others board; and eventually, after all this bustle to and fro, my bus returns to where it started.”

In this passage, Yu Hua employs an extended metaphor of a bus journey to describe his approach to exploring contemporary Chinese society through the lens of personal experience and storytelling. By comparing himself to a bus driver navigating a familiar route, Yu Hua emphasizes the cyclical and interconnected nature of the themes he addresses in his writing. The image of a “busload of stories” suggests that the book will encompass a diverse range of narratives and perspectives, all united by their connection to the larger story of modern China. The idea that these stories “set off from daily life” and make stops at various “junctions” with politics, history, culture, and personal experience underscores the way in which the everyday lives of Chinese people are intimately tied to broader social and historical forces. By ending with the image of the bus returning to its starting point, Yu Hua suggests that there is a sense of unity and coherence in his wide-ranging exploration of Chinese society.

“These days the West is astonished by the speed of China's makeover. With the flick of a wrist Chinese history has utterly changed its complexion, much the way an actor in Sichuan opera swaps one mask for another. In the short space of thirty years, a China ruled by politics has transformed itself into a China where money is king.”

In this quote, imagery and metaphor helps to convey the rapidity and dramatic nature of China’s transformation. The phrase “with the flick of a wrist” suggests a sense of effortlessness and abruptness, emphasizing the speed at which the country has changed. The comparison of China’s metamorphosis to an actor swapping masks in Sichuan opera underscores the idea of a complete and sudden change in appearance, while also hinting at the performative and potentially superficial aspects of this transformation. The contrast between politics and money as the driving forces behind China’s development suggests a fundamental reordering of values and priorities.

“In the political context of 1989, for a government leader to be hospitalized could mean only that he had lost power or that he had gone into hiding. Everyone immediately understood the implications. Some began to slip away quietly, and soon they had scattered far and wide, like falling leaves in an autumn gale.”

Yu Hua uses understatement and metaphor to convey the political upheaval and atmosphere of fear that characterized the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square protests. The phrase “to be hospitalized” reflects the coded language often used to discuss sensitive political topics in China. The image of people slipping away quietly and scattering “like falling leaves in an autumn gale” emphasizes the sense of panic and the need for self-preservation in the face of political turmoil. The metaphor of falling leaves also suggests a sense of vulnerability and the inevitability of change.

“Although unarmed, they stood steadfast, confident that with their bodies alone they could block soldiers and ward off tanks. Packed together, they gave off a blast of heat, as though every one of them was a blazing torch.”

Yu Hua employs sensory imagery and metaphor to convey the courage, unity, and physical presence of the protesters who gathered to challenge the military crackdown on the Tiananmen Square demonstrations. The juxtaposition of unarmed civilians and armed soldiers and tanks highlights the bravery and determination of the protesters, who stood their ground in the face of overwhelming force. The phrase “with their bodies alone” emphasizes the vulnerability and self-sacrifice of the protesters, who put their physical safety on the line for their beliefs. The image of the protesters packed together and giving off a “blast of heat” creates a sense of both physical and emotional intensity, suggesting the passion and commitment that fueled their defiance. The metaphor of each protester as a “blazing torch” evokes associations with the spread of ideas and the illumination of truth, suggesting that the protesters were not only standing up for themselves but also for a larger cause.

“Leadership contests even extend to geography and technology, so that now we have leaders in natural scenery and leaders among elevators. Such is China in the post-Mao era: even elevators have leaders…If we were to hold a contest to choose the word that has lost the most value the fastest during the past thirty years, the winner would surely have to be ‘leader.’”

In this quote, Yu Hua uses satire and hyperbole to criticize the overuse and devaluation of the term “leader” in post-Mao China. By extending the concept of leadership to absurd domains like “natural scenery” and “elevators,” he highlights the ubiquity and trivialization of the term in contemporary Chinese society. The rhetorical device of parallelism in “leaders in natural scenery and leaders among elevators” emphasizes the pervasiveness of this trend. Yu Hua’s tone is ironic and mocking, as evident in the statement, “even elevators have leaders.” This exaggeration underscores the loss of meaning and prestige associated with the word “leader,” which he further emphasizes through the hypothetical “contest” to choose the word that has lost its value most rapidly.

“A couple of years ago Austrians raised aloft huge portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, and Mao at a big May Day parade in Vienna. Similar sights can be observed in other European cities, making one wonder whether the Mao revival is not just a mentality peculiar to China but more of a global phenomenon. If so, what does this mean? The simplest answer might be this: when the world is ailing, revolutionary impulses are stirred, just as when the body is ailing, inflammation ensues.”

Yu Hua uses the anecdote of Austrians carrying portraits of communist leaders, including Mao, to suggest that the revival of interest in Mao and his ideas is not limited to China but is a global phenomenon. By citing similar occurrences in other European cities, he employs inductive reasoning to support this claim. Yu Hua then poses a rhetorical question, “If so, what does this mean?” to encourage readers to consider the implications of this global trend. He offers a metaphorical answer, comparing the resurgence of revolutionary impulses during times of global distress to the body’s inflammatory response to illness. This metaphor illustrates the idea that political and social upheaval often arise as a reaction to widespread problems or crises.

“In those days Mao Zedong’s portrait shimmered like the sun on the Gate of Heavenly Peace, its dimensions quite out of proportion to the size of the gate. Almost every day I would see his awe-inspiring image on one wall or another of our little town.”

In this quote, Yu Hua employs a simile, comparing Mao’s portrait to the sun, to convey the immense power and influence that Mao’s image held during the Cultural Revolution. The verb “shimmered” suggests a radiant, almost divine quality to Mao’s likeness, reinforcing the idea of his godlike status in Chinese society at the time. The description of the portrait’s dimensions being “quite out of proportion to the size of the gate” further emphasizes the exaggerated importance and reverence accorded to Mao. This disproportionate representation of Mao’s image is a metaphor for his outsized influence on every aspect of Chinese life during this period.

“To not know how a story began was not such a hardship, but to not know how it ended was a painful deprivation. Every time I read one of these headless, tailless novels I was like an ant on a hot wok, running around everywhere in search of someone who could tell me the ending.”

In this quote, Yu Hua employs a simile to convey his frustration and discomfort with reading incomplete novels during the Cultural Revolution. He compares his experience to that of “an ant on a hot wok, running around everywhere,” which creates a sense of frantic, desperate motion and emphasizes the urgency of his search for resolution. The use of the words “hardship” and “painful deprivation” further emphasizes the intensity of his distress. The metaphorical description of these incomplete novels as “headless, tailless” reinforces the idea of their truncated nature and the sense of something essential missing. This metaphor also lends a grotesque or unsettling quality to the image, highlighting Yu Hua’s profound unease with these unfinished narratives.

“Now that the Cultural Revolution was over, previously banned books could be published once again. When the works of Tolstoy, Balzac, and Dickens arrived in the local bookstore for the first time, this caused as much sensation as if today a pop star were sighted in some celebrity-deprived suburb: everyone ran to spread the word and craned their necks to see.”

Yu Hua uses a simile to compare the excitement generated by the arrival of previously banned books to the hypothetical appearance of a pop star in a “celebrity-deprived suburb.” This comparison emphasizes the rarity and novelty of these books in post-Cultural Revolution China, where access to foreign literature had been severely restricted. The tone of this passage is one of excitement and wonder, as Yu Hua recalls the powerful impact that the sudden availability of these long-forbidden works had on his community. The comparison to a pop star sighting adds a touch of humor and contemporizes the experience for readers, helping them understand the magnitude of the event.

“Within a few months new books did arrive on my shelves, and now my reading was no longer subject to the vagaries of Cultural Revolution politics. Instead, it grew abundant and replete, flowing on continuously like the Yangtze’s eternal surge. ‘What have these thirty years of reading given you?’ I am sometimes asked. It is no easier to answer that than to articulate one’s reaction to a boundless ocean.”

In this quote, Yu Hua employs a metaphor comparing his newfound access to literature to the “Yangtze’s eternal surge.” This comparison suggests a sense of abundance, continuity, and unstoppable force, emphasizing the profound impact that this influx of books had on his intellectual and emotional life. By comparing his attempt to answer this question to articulating one’s reaction to a “boundless ocean,” Yu Hua employs another metaphor to convey the immensity, depth, and complexity of the impact that reading has had on him. His use of grand, nature-based metaphors—the Yangtze River and the boundless ocean—elevates the act of reading to a sublime, almost spiritual experience, emphasizing its power to enrich, transform, and inspire.

“We were fishers of memory, sitting on the banks of time and waiting for the past to swallow the bait.”

In this metaphor, Yu Hua compares the act of recalling memories to fishing. The phrase “fishers of memory” suggests that the process of remembering is an active and intentional one, much like the act of fishing. The “banks of time” represent the present moment, from which one casts their line into the river of the past, waiting for memories to “swallow the bait.” This metaphor emphasizes the idea that memories are not always readily accessible and that the process of recollection requires patience and persistence.

“Outside, on weekends, the sunshine was so enticing, birds were flitting to and fro, girls were laughing so sweetly, friends my age were gadding about, but I sat stiffly at my desk, expending as much energy on getting words out on paper as a blacksmith does beating iron into shape on his anvil.”

In this passage, Yu Hua uses sensory details to contrast the lively, carefree atmosphere of the outside world with the solitary and laborious process of writing. The use of sensory language, such as “enticing” sunshine, “flitting” birds, and “sweetly” laughing girls, creates a sense of vibrancy and joy that stands in stark contrast to the writer’s experience. The metaphor comparing the writer’s effort to that of a blacksmith “beating iron into shape on his anvil” emphasizes the physical and mental exertion required in the writing process. This comparison also suggests that writing is a craft that requires skill, persistence, and hard work to shape raw ideas into a polished final product.

“In my early years I witnessed countless rallies, denunciation sessions, and battles between rebel factions, not to mention a constant stream of street fights. For me it was a regular occurrence to walk down a street lined with big-character posters and run into people with blood streaming down their faces.”

In this quote, Yu Hua uses a matter-of-fact tone to describe the tumultuous and violent events of his childhood during the Cultural Revolution. The juxtaposition of “big-character posters” and “people with blood streaming down their faces” creates a stark image, highlighting the contrast between the political propaganda and the physical violence that characterized this period. The tone of this passage is one of detachment and resignation, as Yu Hua recounts these experiences without explicit emotional commentary. This detachment reflects a numbness due to constant exposure to violence. The matter-of-fact tone emphasizes the reality and severity of the events described, as they are presented without embellishment or exaggeration.

“When the Communist Party came to power in 1949, it claimed that a new society had been inaugurated and in the same breath demanded that the old society be relentlessly condemned. Thus it was that Lu Xun’s scathing works were wielded as whips to lash and scourge the supine form of China’s past.”

In this quote, Yu Hua employs a metaphor, comparing Lu Xun’s critical works to “whips” used to “lash and scourge” China’s past. The imagery of a “supine” (lying face upward) form of China’s past being brutally punished emphasizes the intensity and severity with which the Communist Party condemned the old society. The juxtaposition of the Party’s claim of inaugurating a new society with the demand to relentlessly condemn the old one highlights the contradictory nature of their actions. The use of strong verbs like “lash” and “scourge” intensifies the tone, conveying the harshness and violence of the Party’s approach to dealing with China’s history.

“The fate of Lu Xun in China—going from being an author to being a catchphrase and then back again—reflects the fate of China itself, and in Lu Xun we can trace the zigzags of history and detect the imprints of our social upheavals.”

Yu Hua draws a parallel between the changing perception of Lu Xun and the history of China. The use of the word “fate” suggests a sense of inevitability and powerlessness, as both Lu Xun and China are subject to the whims of history. The transformation of Lu Xun from an author to a catchphrase and back again serves as a metaphor for China’s own journey through various social and political changes. The “zigzags of history” is a visual metaphor that emphasizes the unpredictable and erratic nature of China’s past.

“It made me think back to those books of his under the table in the cultural center, and it seemed to me now that they had been trying to tell me something. When they tripped me up as I went in and out of my office, they were actually dropping a hint, quietly but insistently signaling the presence of a powerful voice within the dusty tomes.”

In this quote, Yu Hua personifies Lu Xun’s books, attributing to them the ability to communicate and convey a message. The books “trying to tell me something” and “dropping a hint” suggest an attempt to draw Yu Hua’s attention to the value of Lu Xun’s writing. The physical act of the books tripping him up as he moves in and out of his office serves as a metaphor for the way in which Lu Xun’s works, even when neglected and gathering dust, continue to exert an influence and demand recognition. The “powerful voice within the dusty tomes” is a metaphor for the enduring significance and impact of Lu Xun’s writing, despite being overlooked or forgotten. The tone is introspective and revelatory, as Yu Hua acknowledges the importance of Lu Xun’s works and the way in which they have shaped his own understanding of literature and history.

“Later, when China reintroduced itself to the world in the guise of a freewheeling, market-driven economy, revolution appeared to have vanished. But in our economic miracle since 1978, revolution never disappeared but simply donned a different costume.”

Yu Hua frequently discusses costumes and disguises in the book to explore the performative nature of social and political change. In this instance, he personifies “revolution” itself and suggests that the act of revolution is performative since it wears different costumes.

“The Great Leap Forward of 1958 began, in a sense, as a comedy—a romantic and absurd comedy. Fakery, exaggeration, and bombast were the order of the day.”

Yu Hua utilizes irony and juxtaposition in this quote to highlight the discrepancy between the initial optimism of the Great Leap Forward and its eventual tragic consequences. By describing the campaign as a “romantic and absurd comedy,” he employs dramatic irony since a widespread famine and suffering followed. The use of the words “fakery,” “exaggeration,” and “bombast” underscores the hollow and deceptive nature of the campaign’s promises and propaganda. Yu Hua’s tone is sardonic and critical, as he exposes the folly and hubris that characterized the early stages of the Great Leap Forward.

“As he spoke, he rummaged around in the desk until he found a piece of chalk. He raised his arm and let fly. The teacher saw it coming and ducked out of the way, then carried on explaining the laws of physics, as though it was perfectly normal for pupils to target him for missile practice. What is revolution? Now at last we knew.”

In this passage, Yu Hua uses imagery and situational irony to illustrate the chaotic and subversive nature of the revolutionary spirit in schools during the Cultural Revolution. The act of a student throwing chalk at a teacher is described in dramatic terms, with the phrase “raised his arm and let fly” evoking a sense of aggression and defiance. The teacher’s nonchalant reaction underscores the absurdity of the situation and the powerlessness of authority figures in the face of revolutionary fervor. Yu Hua’s tone is a mix of bemusement and sarcasm, as he presents this incident as a revelation for him and his classmates, who finally grasp the true meaning of revolution through this act of rebellion.

“One point, however, is clear: when society undergoes a drastic shift, an extremely repressed era soon becomes a very lax one. It’s like being on a swing: the higher you soar on one side, the higher you rise on the other.”

Yu Hua utilizes a simile to illustrate the dramatic societal changes that occur when a nation transitions from one extreme to another. The image of a swing conveys the idea that the height of repression in one era directly correlates to the degree of laxity in the subsequent period. The use of the second-person pronoun “you” in the metaphor creates a sense of immediacy and involvement, inviting the reader to imagine themselves experiencing the sensation of swinging higher and higher on each side. This rhetorical choice aims to engage the reader more deeply in the concept being presented.

“In China’s overheated political campaigns, revolution was just a short step away from counterrevolution. In popular idiom it was a matter of ‘flipping pancakes’: everyone was just a pancake sizzling on the griddle, flipped from side to side by the hand of fate. Yesterday’s revolutionary became today’s counterrevolutionary, just as today’s counterrevolutionary would become tomorrow’s revolutionary.”

Yu Hua uses the quotidian image of the pancake to undermine the seriousness of revolution and hence explore Irreverence Amid Oppression. He also employs chiasm (“revolutionary […] counterrevolutionary […] counterrevolutionary […] revolutionary”) to reinforce the notion of something flipping back on itself.

“The ubiquity and sharpness of social contradictions have provoked a confusion in people’s value systems and worldview, thus giving birth to the copycat effect, when all kinds of social emotions accumulate over time and find only limited channels of release, transmuted constantly into seemingly farcical acts of rebellion that have certain anti-authoritarian, anti-mainstream, and anti-monopoly elements. The force and scale of copycatting demonstrate that the whole nation has taken to it as a form of performance art.”

Yu Hua uses a metaphor, comparing the accumulation of “social emotions” to a pressure cooker, with “limited channels of release.” This underscores the sense of pent-up frustration and discontent that finds expression through the copycat phenomenon. The use of the word “transmuted” implies a kind of alchemical transformation, as these emotions are channeled into “seemingly farcical acts of rebellion.” The juxtaposition of “farcical” with “rebellion” creates a tone of irony, suggesting that while these acts may appear absurd or trivial, they carry a deeper significance as expressions of anti-authoritarian sentiment. Finally, Yu Hua employs hyperbole, stating that “the whole nation has taken to it as a form of performance art.” This exaggeration emphasizes the scale and impact of the copycat effect, while also introducing a satirical edge, as if the entire country has become a stage for this subversive “performance.”

“As copycat aristocrats proliferate, so too do the social institutions catering to their needs: aristocratic schools and aristocratic kindergartens, aristocratic stores and aristocratic restaurants, aristocratic apartments and aristocratic furniture, aristocratic entertainments and aristocratic magazines…In China there is no end of things claiming an association with aristocracy.”

Yu Hua uses repetition and irony to critique the rise of a “copycat aristocracy” in China. The repeated use of the word “aristocratic” in front of various nouns (schools, kindergartens, stores, restaurants) creates a sense of absurdity and excess. By applying the term “aristocratic” to such a wide range of institutions and products, Yu Hua suggests that the concept has become meaningless–a mere marketing ploy or status symbol. The overall tone is one of critique, as Yu Hua mocks the shallow and superficial nature of this “copycat aristocracy.”