Cultural Revolution, Red guards, Triads, jaded film stars and crumbling mansions, backstreets, noodle shops, old ramshackle streets contrasting with the new Shanghai. A society that, on the surface, appears to be undergoing great changes, an apparent liberation. People relax and swim in their illusions - the yellow brick road leads to tanks on Tianaman Square and to the gulag.
Now, I may be overdressing the cake a bit too much but I cannot help the thoughts this book inspired. It is full of people going about their lives in what looks like a degree of freedom and normality but the truth is that their stomachs are clenched in anxiety as they dance round each other. The shadows hang over them - unnoticed but present and no cliché.
A society full of fear, caution, of looking over your shoulder, talking in whispers in the dark. A society where one bit of information gleaned from reliable sources can still lead to your destruction. And then you have to think about the hero, the policeman who has to carry out his task, his investigation, trapped between Charybdis and Scylla; what is permitted and what is necessary.
Inspector Chen is instructed to investigate the granddaughter of a former film star and “dancing-partner” of Chairman Mao. There are suspicions that the girl may be in possession of something that could be compromising to his reputation and hence harmful to the State. The investigation turns up a strange group of characters; there is a sense of alienation, decadence and artificiality in their relationships as if they are suspended in honey. About halfway through there is a murder... a young girl.
And how strange a culture, so unlike our own. Where else would you get a lovely tale about a man’s food obsession with crabs tied in with an analysis of Mao’s poetry? Almost all conversations have multiple meanings as if the characters are talking in code - or rather could be talking in code. Literary quotations are used to punctuate the conversations so that it is hardly surprising that other meanings are sought in the most banal discussion.
All the lead characters are constantly analysing the situation they’re in; it’s like a game of chess where you have to consider the move your opponent has just made, then think about the possibilities before you and then the possible responses they might elicit. It is all very considered - there seems to be no spontaneity at all. In a society where once every move, every word could be interpreted in a way that would have grave ramifications for you and your family, perhaps this considered game-playing is a sound defensive tactic. I know the feeling to some extent because I had a job once that was full of internal political battles, with its spies and levels of correct behaviour that just had to be followed - to the letter! But it’s still difficult to imagine living in a whole society where you are constantly in danger of stepping on broken glass, when you are always treading on eggshells.
The thought has just struck me that if this book had been published as a Science Fiction novel set in dystopic future or on some distant planet, with its almost-corny place-names (the Glamorous Bar, the Central Yellow Sea) strange artefacts ( the clock that strikes “the East is Red”) and even stranger food (duck’s tongue...) we would totally accept it - it’s that strange. And now the thought strikes me how strange it is that the aliens are actually here amongst us, sharing our planet. Is it really like this? The word “exotic” springs to mind but not luxurious or elegant or even romantic... This is a “foreign” society made more confusing because these are human beings like us. Mankind alienates itself from the rest of humanity through its culture.
The strength of this book lies in the windows it opens onto this alien world, enabling us to glimpse it in little snatches. It is like some dysfunctional dream... If life is all there is then some people have so much to answer for - and never will. The long shadow of Chairman Mao haunts each life, having touched and tainted all involved.