I've been here for about a year, now, and this is the first work of Chinese prose that's really moved me, from Taiwanese writer Miou Si, by way of Danwei.
It's hard to see new things, but easy to have your own prejudices confirmed, and I think Miou captures something of the privation-born nastiness that I constantly encounter in Beijing. Plus, Miou has the gift for unusual detail that I really like in Chinese prose-
"If I had a choice, I would willingly become a native Hawaiian."
I've just inadvertently immersed myself in a series of books concerned with ethnic identity; more than any sane man could take, honestly. Red Sorghum, Operation Shylock, the execrable The Elementary Particles, and the wonderful Enemies, A Love Story. So perhaps I've sensitized myself to the whole issue, an appeal to the ugliness of your own people.
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