The Fat Years

by Chan Koonchung

TRUTH IS NOT AN OPTION.... Beijing, sometime in the near future: a month has gone missing from official records. No one has any memory of it, and no one can care less. Except for a small circle of friends, who will stop at nothing to get to the bottom of the sinister cheerfulness and amnesia that has possessed the Chinese nation.
When they kidnap a high-ranking official and force him to reveal all, what they learn - not only about their leaders, but also about their own people - stuns them to the core. It is a message that will rock the world.... Terrifying methods of cunning, deception, and terror are unveiled by the truth-seekers in this thriller-expose of the Communist Party's stranglehold on China today.

Genres: Fiction, China, Science Fiction, Dystopia, Politics, Asia, Book Club

299 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 2009

Reviews

[Anabelle Bernard Fournier · Rating 4 out of 5]

In translation theory, there are two main factions: the "naturalizers" and the "foreignizers" The naturalizers think that literature should be translated in a language that feels natural to the reader, as if it had been written originally in their language. The foreignizers, on the other hand, think that the best way to honour a text is to keep the translation as close to the source language as the target language will allow. In other words, the first group would have the English sound English, while the second would have English sound as Chinese as it can.

The Fat Years is definitely a case of foreignization, and I think the bad reviews of this book don't really take into account that this was written in Chinese. Not only is there the strange rhythm and sound of Chinese echoing through the English, but Western readers are probably also unaccustomed to the foreign structure of a Chinese text.

I don't know much about Chinese narrative structure--all that I know is that it's different, very different, from our Western conception of a story. Despite the definite Western influences of this novel (mystery narrative, science-fiction), the novel feels as foreign as, I expect, visiting Beijing would.

Yes, it has a lot of exposition and not much action. Yes, the last part of the novel, the long speech by He Dongsheng, seems to go on forever and ever. But there's a pleasure in reading this--a pleasure of, somehow, listening to another tongue, another culture, and hearing it in English in your head.

The Fat Years is the story of Taiwan-born writer Lo Chen who, one day, sees an old female friend, an ex-judge and now career activist Little Xi, who doesn't seem to be as happy as he is. Because everyone in Beijing is very happy. She, and another old friend, tell him that there's a month missing in China: 28 days in 2011 that disappeared from collective memory, and that only a few of them can remember. Chen's doubts are aroused, and he seems to lose the happiness that he sees all around him. There begins a quest to find the missing month, among political intrigue, elite ultranationalist student shenanigans, underground Christian churches and, eventually, love. It's the conflict between choosing to live "in a counterfeit paradise or a real hell". Which one would you choose?

This is definitely a novel for the intellectual-minded. Koonchung presents a lot of political and economic analysis--either to educate the Western reader or to wake up the Chinese one, I'm not really sure. But, according to the translator, it's not that farfetched, except for a few details. If you know nothing about China, you'll be illuminated. If you know a little, or a lot, you'll probably find the point of view interesting.

The Fat Years asks a lot of difficult questions that even Westerners should grapple with. How much freedom do we really have? Is the government really working in our interest? Is democracy a political system doomed to failure because it cannot achieve anything "big"?

If you like non-stop action, stay away from this book. You'll get bored. However, if you enjoy a text that plays with high political stakes and isn't afraid to call a dog a dog, I strongly suggest you grab a copy.

[Craig · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Between a good hell and a counterfeit paradise, which one will people choose?” is the underlying question in Chan Koonchung’s The Fat Years.

When I started reading The Fat Years I was expecting a dystopian novel and was surprised that the book is actually a critique of contemporary Chinese culture and political system. Luckily, it was an informative and interesting description of the fallings of the Chinese Communist Party, and Chan does a decent job of blending the story’s narrative with the political discussion. The problem I had is Chan tried to include too much. There is a mystery, love story and dystopian element along with his political commentary all in three hundred pages. Instead of doing one or two of these things really well he squished in all 4 and they are just ok. I imagine unless you are familiar with the history of the CCP and its various cover-ups and scandals the book will be boring or confusing. Still, if you are interested in Chinese domestic politics and enjoy “What If” books The Fat Years is worth your time.

The Fat Years takes place in 2013 two years into China’s golden age. The global economic collapse in 2011 left only China unscathed, allowing it to emerge as the world’s economic power. People in China are all benefiting from new economic prosperity, everyone in China is happy and an entire month disappeared from collective memory. Why is every person, with a handful of outliers, in the entire country happy? What happened during that month and why does no one remember it? These questions set the stage for the mystery in the book.


The Fat Years follows a number of characters of various social and economic classes to show how they react to China’s ascendancy. Old Chan, a Taiwanese author, is the protagonist and the character that connects everyone. The book opens when Old Chan’s friend, Fang Caodi, confronts him in public trying to convince him an entire month is missing from the collect memory in a sort of mass amnesia. Chan doesn’t want to listen to his old friend. Like most people in China, he is happy and doesn’t want to bother with this foolishness. He figures his friend is mistaken and there is no way an entire month could disappear. Next he runs into an ex-girlfriend, Little XI, at a bookstore. Little Xi is a former judge who lost her position for failing to follow the Party line and execute enough suspects. She is one of the few sad people in China and when Chan sees her it reignites his love and convinces him to try win her affection. Finally there is Zhang Dou a former child slave and migrant worker who now lives outside Beijing. Like Fao Caodi he remembers the missing month and together they team up to figure out what happened.

Much of the book consists of Old Chan trying to locate Little Xi. She has gone off the grid and spends most of her time hiding and making anonymous posts on the Internet condemning the Community Party. As Chen tries to track her down Fang and Zhang team up and try to piece together information about what happened during the 28 missing days. Xi, Fang, and Zhang eventually team up and kidnap a high-ranking politician and force him to answer their questions.

The kidnapped politician, He Dongsheng, spends about 1/4 of the novel explaining all the evils the CCP has committed in the last 60 years and how they were necessary for China to maintain stability and become a great nation. This section feels more like a laundry list of the atrocities committed by the CCP such as the Cultural Revolution, The Gang of Four, the Tiananmen massacre, Falun Gong massacre and cover-ups by corrupt officials than a novel. Eventually it is reveled that everyone is so happy because the CCP decided to put small amounts of an MDMA (ecstasy) like drug in all water, milk and beverages in the country. This gives everyone a slight high feeling and makes everyone feel relaxed and happy all the time. He likens this to western countries putting fluoride in the water and says since everyone is happy why should it stop? Finally Chan and cohorts let He go knowing they have enough information to cause mass unrest and ruin his career and He knows he could have them killed if any word leaks out. Chan and Little Xi agree to go off and spend their lives together.

The plot is very thin, and we never get a reason for the missing month other than ‘people just forgot’, and the majority of the Fat Years is made up with political commentary. Is easy to see why it is banned in the mainland since it talks about a lot of things the CCP wishes didn’t happen. If you’ve studied Chinese domestic politics nothing in the book will be new but it is presented in an interesting way that makes for a fun read. I can understand how this book could be really thought provoking if you live in China and were unaware that the government did these things but I think a lot of western readers will be less surprised.

The Fat Years was clearly written for a Chinese audience and might have problems gaining traction in the west. The fictional elements: the love story, mystery and dystopian parts aren’t strong enough to make the book worth reading. The political commentary will only appeal to westerners with a background studying Chinese domestic politics. As a critique on Chinese society this book is four stars, as an entertaining work of fiction it is only two.

[Ryandake · Rating 2 out of 5]

this book should come with a warning label.

it's supposed to be a novel, fer chrissakes. not a synopsis of china's political and economic history. if they'd sold is as the latter, i'd give it five stars. but as a novel, it blows.

i bought the audiobook rather than the print version. the narrator does quite a nice job. i listened to it while teaching myself to knit, fortunately. at least something useful came out of the time.

the story's split into two sections--the "story" part, and the epilogue. if you can grit your teeth through all the long political diatribes in the first part, you are rewarded in the epilogue (which is nearly as long as the story part, in terms of audiobook time). i'm certain that the author wrote the first part as a bit of pandering to popular taste--making a (not very convincing) love story in order to drag the reader through the contemporary politics lesson. but it's not a patch on the dullness of the epilogue.

when the epilogue started, i was already quite exhausted from shrieking "get on with it!" to my poor iPod. but the epilogue is a whole new kettle of fish: a long, long, long, long, long monologue by a communist party hack.

it became an endurance test for me. i don't like not finishing books, and since i had at least nine more feet of Dr. Who scarf to knit, i had plenty to keep me distracted. mr. hack began with a five-part lesson in political history, and then moved on to the more thrilling subject of economics, finally ending with a short course in methods of social control. at 3am, i finally crawled across the finish line.

i felt like i'd been held in a chinese political prison, forced to endure re-education.

let it be said that for those who know zip about china's recent history, it can be pretty enlightening. i've no doubt that the very knowledge gap a chinese citizen is likely to have about her own country is the problem the writer was addressing. but if you do know something about contemporary china, it is a painful grind.

however, the entire epilogue was just cruel.

if you'd like to read an actual novel about contemporary china, read Mo Yan. now that man knows how to tell a story, and i do hope in future that mr. chan will undertake some study of the novel form rather than merely lecturing his readers.

[Biblibio · Rating 1 out of 5]

Truthfully, I couldn't finish the book. The Fat Years is badly written and characterized, with only its message going for it. Unfortunately, even 60% into the novel the main plot point had yet to appear - only awkward setup. Coupled with overly blunt writing and severly stilted dialogue, The Fat Years is an utterly unpleasant read.

Is there political, near-future relevance to the book? Maybe. But it's impossible to reach the point through the mess and though the message screams loudly, it isn't really saying much of anything. Perhaps had the characters been better vehicles for the message the novel would have been more bearable, but each narrator and character is as stiff as his/her predecessor and none are particularly sympathetic. They are all cut-outs - convenient for message-writing, but not exactly stellar writing.

The writing style is also difficult to read, but this is partly a stylistic choice. Half of the book is written in a flat blog-style that mimics how people write online, but it fails to evoke any emotion and stumbles in much the same way that the rest of the story does. Nearly everything is exposition - the novel can feel very dully non-fiction at times. There may be some importance to all of Chan Koonchung's setup, but after it didn't develop anywhere more than halfway into the book, I gave up. Perhaps the idea behind The Fat Years was a good one, but it resulted in a bad book.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Once I realised that trying to ease myself back into reading non-fiction after avoiding it since Trumpageddon with a 900 page biography of Mao was ill-advised, I took up a novel about China instead. ‘The Fat Years’ turned up on my dystopia keyword search, although I wouldn’t class it as dystopian. The situation described is only a slight exaggeration of current affairs. 'The Fat Years' was first published in 2009 and is set in 2013, so has an exceedingly contemporary feel. The narrative follows a small group of characters as their unease about life in China grows. They realise that a month has gone missing from official records and their memories, so set out to find out what happened. This is not an idealistic quest, however. Only one character, maybe two, has any hope of changing things. The others just want to know for their own intellectual satisfaction.

I found the story a little slow at first while it followed Old Chen’s daily life. Once he encountered other main characters and some answers to their questions began to emerge, though, it became very compelling. The highlights, to my mind, are effectively lectures on Chinese politics. In a way this is a non-fiction analysis of China’s geopolitical near future, framed by a fictional account of how people in China might experience these trends. The writing style is pleasingly ironic and amusing, for example:

As they were thinking and talking, the four men met at the front gate [of the church]. [...]
“Who’s in charge here?” asked Fang Caodi impatiently.
“God is in charge here,” said Li Tiejan.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Fang Caodi.

The structure of the book is somewhat odd. The denouement and most powerful passages are all in the so-called epilogue, which takes up nearly a third of the book. I won’t soon forget the ‘live together or die together’ dilemma. Also of note is this pitilessly accurate portrait of the US:

America’s elected politicians were beholden to a plethora of interest groups: Wall Street, big business, the arms industry, local power groups, the churches, the labour unions, and various public-relations lobbies; they also had to take care of popular and media opinion. So when it was necessary for them to unite to accomplish something big and important, all they could do was look around, to the left and right, and fight meaningless little battles; they didn’t dare cut to the bone and heal the body politic, and were even less likely to take bold and decisive action. American market fundamentalists and the right wing of the Republican party constantly dragged their feet and added to the confusion; they were completely out of touch with reality and could certainly mess things up, but they could not make any positive contributions. He Dongsheng was completely discouraged with Western democracy.

Aren’t we all. But of course China still has all these interest groups, just differently arranged. As I understand it, all of the above except the churches and PR lobbies are part of the one party state, so wrangles between them take place within the government. While said state can take bold and decisive action, the novel makes clear that such action nearly always takes the form of punitive crackdowns involving imprisoning, torturing, and executing people who are very probably innocent, in order to send a message. One repeated refrain in the text is the choice between ‘a good hell’ and ‘a counterfeit paradise’. In other words, will you accept oppression in return for material comfort, or fight it? At what point is the level of oppression no longer worth the material stability it allows you? Two very difficult questions that are highly relevant to 2016 and the approaching year. The book has no easy answers, but forces you to confront China’s ascendancy and what it means for all of us. It's a fascinating read.

[Felice · Rating 2 out of 5]

The novel The Fat Years by Chan Koonchung has been banned in China. I know this because it says so right on the cover of the book. Big deal right? What isn’t banned in China? Does a book being banned somewhere entice anyone to read it anymore like in the old Legion of Decency days? What possible titillation or thrill from forbidden knowledge could come from a banned book these days when you can go in the internet and see any type of porn you want and/or cats spouting philosophy while dressed as piglets? So the banned in China reason to read The Fat Years is off the table… is there any other reason to read it?



Sometime in the very near future, 2013 in fact, a month has gone missing from the official records in Beijing. Not only that but no one cares and the Chinese people have all gotten a lot more cheerful. Could these two things be connected? The Chinese government is operating its own capitalism success story and it has lulled the citizenry into a stupefying contentment. One such comrade is writer Lao Chen. He is enjoying living off the fat of the land until some friends enlighten him as to what is actually going on. Well then they all have to try and make it right.


Koonchung's dialog in The Fat Years exists solely to preach about politics. The staleness of the characters and the moralizing of the author are death to whatever thriller opportunities The Fat Years might have had. This novel is a 1984 meets The Matrix wannabe. There are a few intriguing ideas (Government controlling memories while it’s using propaganda to brainwash you today and would you rather be unhappy in the real world or happy in a pretend world?) but overall? Can I hear a Ho-Hum?

[Noah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic and engaging premise, and the translation on this reveals a nice edge to the writing, especially for a writer from Asia. The rambling final section was fascinating though a little drawn out. I enjoyed the shifting in perspectives, and also the meta-commentary on the place of coincidence in fiction writing. Chan tries to cover and address just about every social topic in China that he can, and predictably some items are more insightfully discussed than others. Still, as someone who's spent time both being a tourist and doing smidge of business in China, I found I could relate to a lot of what he was pointing out about the direction China is heading in.

[Nicholas Whyte · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/2399046.html


This is a fascinating book, by a writer who was born in Shanghai, educated in Hong Kong and now lives in Beijing. The book itself has been published in Hong Kong and Taiwan, but is not officially available on the mainland (though a fascinating foreword by Julia Lovell refers to Beijing's "chic party-hostesses slipp[ing] copies of the book into guests’ take-home bags"). It came out in 2009 and is set in the very near future of 2013, after a further financial crisis has wrecked the world economy apart from China, which has now become Top Nation, and yet everyone - or all but a very few - appears to have completely forgotten the crucial month of February 2011, in which the world changed.

There's a lot in here, including Christianity as a weird foreign religion, state drugging of the population a la Blake's 7, and using sfnal themes as a metaphor for the erasure of June 1989 from official memory; I can see why official China may feel it cuts a bit close to the bone - the protagonist, contrasting the West and China, suggests that:

"The only disparity is that, theoretically, the power of Western governments is given to them by the people, while in China the people’s freedom is given to them by the government. Is this distinction really that important?"

Readers may give their own answer to the question, taking into account when and where the book was written and published.

Anyway, I now appreciate the depth of my own ignorance about China even more.

[Ernst · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ein ambitionierter Roman, der in die „Zukunft“ verlagert wurde, wobei das alles andere als ein Zukunftsroman ist, eigentlich beschreibt er die Gegenwart, das totalitäre System das sogar in der Lage ist ein ganzes Monat aus dem Gedächtnis seiner Bürger zu tilgen.
Gut geschrieben - einer GR Rezension entnehme ich dass das in der englischen Übersetzung wohl nicht so gut funktioniert wie in der deutschen, spannend, nachdenklich, weise, streckenweise philosophisch, hat mich überzeugt.
Ich muss sogar sagen dass man in dieser Fiktion ziemlich viel über das moderne China lernt. Danach suche ich zwar nicht in Romanen aber ist trotzdem ein Nebeneffekt den ich gerne annehme.

[Phrodrick slowed his growing backlog · Rating 4 out of 5]

Most likely Chan Koonchung’ The Fat Years was written for a Chinese audience. Likely its cadences and modes of expression are closer to Chinese than to English. As such it can seem foreign to an English reader. It should. The cover says it is “The book no one in China dares publish”. I am inclined to believe it is one of many that no one dares publish, In China. Even if it has been published, or circulates on the Mainland; the safe money is that it is hard to find and discussions of it are unlikely to be entirely free, or free of government notice.

I have my POV. China is a threat to its neighbors and to American interests. So far, its actual victims have been Asian fisherman, bullied or disappeared from their normal fishing grounds and an unknown number of native citizens removed from the social networks or otherwise intimidated into silence. For the rest of the planet, it is clear that China seeks the kind of political and economic hegemony previously operated in America’s favor.

China may eventually out compete for western economic dominance or push for more than supreme free market standing. In fairness, predominance in the free market is and should be available to anyone who can earn their way to that position. Exactly how much “earning it” includes bulling and coercion is a more delicate matter. I believe that China has the people and enough of the resources to be a respected world player, but not enough in the way of humanist impulses to keep the rest of us from being worried if not cynical.

For all of this consider what the message is that Fat Years has for its Chinese audience.

Our protagonist is a Taiwanese born journalist living in The People’s Republic in a near and fictional future. He is very content, has no desire to leave the mainland and no driving need to write anything. Everyone he knows is contented and driven to simultaneous expressions of how great it is to be in China. Virtually no one is un happy. Except for the occasional malcontent, seemingly conspiracy minded individuals who appear and act haunted.

Koonchung has built a dystopia on the model of Walden II. People are happy, or at least think they are. There is a suggestion of a drug like Skinner’s Soma, but there is also prosperity and of course privilege. Then again no one remembers a certain month. We know that month is the month of Trenaman Square, but all of that is forgotten and no one thinks to ask why. No one but the possibly watched few.

Fat Years is a well told tale. It ends with a very long lecture and an even longer translator’s note. The ending brings the novel to a tiring halt. But together with the note, the contemporary reality of what Koochung has fictionalized becomes manifest. The immediate situation is that the China’s economic miracle has stalled. Lack of enforced regulation embarrassed China with poor products like their infamous drywall. Failure to improve on top down, favored son’s distribution of economic wealth made for a restive populace. These are temporary conditions and it is on China’s Communist power-brokers to decide if they can best buy time with internal improvements or by creating international crisis.

This is a lot of top hamper for a novel. The reader is advised that, it is possible that The Fat Years is a warning using science fiction as a beard.

[Brian Cowlishaw]

This book offers serious food for thought--both about the socioeconomic realities of China today, and broad philosophical questions. The basic premise feels totally plausible: after the 2008 worldwide depression, there's another worse one in 2011, and out of it China rises the most economically vibrant, and arguably powerful, nation on earth. Also, the actual 28 days that fell between the fall and the rise...just disappear, hardly anyone can remember them, and they're gone from all official records. Highly recommended to any reader willing to entertain the idea that other nations might actually a) not consider themselves not-as-good as, say, the USA, and b) have strategic reasoning behind their policies and actions.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Is science fictiony. Is dystopianesque.

I liked this and every single comment I can come up with threatens to spoil the plot, so I ain't gonna give you substantive commentary. Oh wait, I never give substantive commentary.

I'll...see myself out.

[Vartika · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Fat Years is a piece of non-fictional political critique of the Chinese Communist Party rule set within the covers of dystopian fiction. It is incredibly difficult to review this book without giving away the very components which make it such a fascinating read, but as with all things, an attempt has to be made.

The premise of the book is the exploration of a certain form of collective amnesia that plagues China; the kind that has led to the near-erasure of some of the most traumatic moments in its political history. While the plot is promising, its execution as a mélange of fiction and critique is somewhat drab — this, however, owes itself to the ambitious nature of the project of writing something of this sort more than to a flaw in the writing itself. Thus, while the book's characters and the events concerning them may seem to drag on; often unengagingly so; it is incredible how this book brings together a cross-section of Chinese society and polity together into uncovering a near-futuristic and yet real, existing system.

Everything that seems to be working against this book — the unusual emphasis on character and on factual detail; the structural strangeness with nearly one-thirds of the book comprising of an 'Epilogue'; and the seemingly aimless, multiple-point-perspective narration — comes together in a very rewarding and frankly mind-blowing manner if you happen to put up with it for long enough. The book picks up speed (literally) in the last ten pages or so, and is genius in ways science-fictionesque plots rarely ever are. Through the bizarre and often unconvincing characters one also gets to gauge certain Chinese views on anarchy, happiness, democracy, censorship and sexuality; and while certain explanations (such as the one for the very crux of the mass-amnesiac condition the book sets out to explore) may not be convincing and only pragmatic forms of denouement at best, this is still an extremely interesting book, provided that you finish it and put yourself in a position to analyse it as a whole and not as a sum of all its parts, some of which often come off plainly as badly-written. To be fair, this last bit can be attributed to the inevitable loss of flair in translation.

That The Fat Years is banned in China is understandable given both the book's contents and the degree of state-control and censorship in the country. Author Chan Koonchung's scathing and witty critique of capitalism, consumerism, 'lychee black dragon lattes' and the Chinese economic-political model are both enjoyable and even inimitable.

A more concise summary of the book is impossible to provide given its unusual nature in general, but if you have managed to read this far, you may as well note it: This book makes a case against the current one-party rule in China, as well as a case for microdosing. This book talks about how ignorance becomes happiness (albeit not in such simplistic terms).

The epilogue is truly redemptive of the novel, and the last section thereof, 'Heaven saves the Communist Party' should best be read accompanied by some ambient post-rock.

[Sooz · Rating 3 out of 5]

“No country can afford to be without idealists, especially not contemporary China” The Fat Years

i’ve been reading about the Cold War and how little time there was between the triumphant success of the allied forces -ending w.w. 2- and the return of self-interests that established a huge divide between them .... a divide that would dominate world politics for years to come. i’d read about the Marshall Plan before (American aid that helped rebuild a war-torn Europe) but i had no idea how incredibly calculated it really was. how keenly aware the American government was of this divide, and how nervous it made them. how the Marshall Plan was designed to address THAT situation as much as it was designed to help rebuild homes and schools and roads.

so it was interesting to read (in The Fat Years) of the plan the Chinese government implements in response to the public unrest after the economic collapse ... and it was easy to believe that a government could be that shrewd, that calculating, that manipulative. i think we sometimes forget that a government -as an entity- is following the evolutionary laws that govern all entities: self preservation and propagation. these two laws of nature motivate the decisions a government makes just as much as the well-being and stability of the country they are charged to govern. sometimes more. those in control count on the public’s ignorance and apathy, but when that fails, fear is the most effective tool available to ensure their plans don’t get derailed. but as The Fat Years points out, the people may be afraid of those in power, but the authorities are also afraid of the people, and they are especially afraid of idealists.

political motives provide the structure -the framework -within which the characters of the novel live their lives. most live happily in the state of ignorance and apathy the government has created for them. The Fat Years tells the story of a few who don’t. a few who set out to figure out what is behind this happy façade.

i have to admit the unfamiliarity of the Chinese names were confusing at times, so the handy list of major characters at the beginning of the book was useful -especially if a few days had passed since i'd last picked up the book. and while Koonchung doesn’t seem to spend a lot of time developing these characters, their actions speak for themselves, and the reader does connect with them. in terms of the character's actions, i think the need to have a tribe -even a very small one- comes through loud and clear. in the beginning of the book, Little Xi and Fang Caodi are each alone seeking for someone -anyone- who has not been asimilated into the hive mind. they meet through a mutual friend, Lao Chen, and once they find each other, they find the strength and confidence to act.

while there is a mystery to be solved, and characters coming and going, this is a politically-charged and politically-driven novel. in other words, if you want an action-packed, suspenseful dystopian novel to entertain you … read The Hunger Games

[Ivonne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ich muss zugeben, dass es in erster Linie Schuld des Covers ist, dass ich dieses Buch unbedingt lesen wollte. Ich weiß ehrlich gesagt nicht, ob ich das Cover unheimlich oder einfach nur genial finden soll. Jedenfals hat mich das Cover sofort angesprochen und als ich dann auch den Klappentext gelesen habe, war für mich klar: Du musst dieses Buch haben. Allerdings war das Buch um einiges anders, als ich es mir vorgestellt hatte. Was nicht unbedingt schlecht sein muss ...

Die Geschichte wird aus verschiedenen Sichten erzählt: unter anderem aus der Sicht von Chen, einem ehemaligen, berühmten Schriftsteller, der sich in dem neuen Goldenen Zeitalter Chinas whol fühlt und seinen Wohlstand genießt und aus der Sicht von Xiaoxi, eine Frau, in die Chen vor vielen Jahren einmal verliebt gewesen war und die nun mit einer Verschwörungstheorie wieder aufgetaucht ist und behauptet, ein kompletter Monat sei aus der Geschichte Chinas verschwunden.

Auch gibt es noch diejenigen, die ebenfalls von dem verschwundenen Monat wissen und auf der Suche nach Gleichgesinnten sind. Es gibt einige wenige, die das, was in dieser Zeit geschehen ist, nicht vergessen haben und dafür kämpfen, das große Geheimnis aufzudecken.

Das Buch ist sehr anstrengend zu lesen. Nicht nur, dass der Schreibstil des Autors komplexer ist als der, vieler anderer Autoren, benutzt dieser auch (logischerweise) viele chinesische Worte und Ausdrücke (z. B. Namen, Orte, etc.), die das Lesen einfach erschweren. Die chinesischen Ortschaften und Namen sind einfach ungewohnt und fremd. Mir fiel das Lesen wirklich schwer; an manchen Stellen empfand ich es sogar als so anstrengend und unangenehm, dass ich gar keine richtige Lust darauf hatte, das Buch zu lesen und das obwohl es von der Thematik, der Idee und der Geschichte her, wirklich sehr interessant ist.

Auch die Charaktere haben alle ihren eigenen Charme. Man kann sich sehr gut in sie hineinversetzen und fiebert förmlich mit ihnen mit, wenn sie versuchen, das Geheimnis aufzudecken, andere Menschen davon zu überzeugen, dass dieses gesamte Goldene Zeitalter auf einer Verschwörung der Regierung beruht oder aber auf der Suche sind nach Gleichgesinnten.

Fazit: Die Bewertung für das Buch wäre um einiges besser ausgefallen, wäre das Lesen nicht so anstrengend gewesen. Alles in allem kann ich aber sagen, dass es wirklich interessant ist und jeder, der sich für so etwas interessiert, sollte es nicht an sich vorbei gehen lassen. Ich finde es vor allem interessant, auch mal etwas von Autoren aus Ländern und Teilen unserer Welt zu lesen, von denen man normalerweise nicht so viel sieht, hört oder liest. Ich glaube zu diesem Buch muss sich jeder einen eigenen Eindruck schaffen. Trotz allem bin ich noch immer der Meinung, dass die Idee dieser Geschichte wirklich einzigartig, in manchen Situationen sogar ziemlich lustig und einfach interessant ist.

[Alta]

The Fat Years by Chan Koonchung (Anchor Books, 2013. Trans. from the Chinese by Michael S. Duke)

Chan Koonchung—who was raised in Hong Kong, has studied in Boston, worked for many years as a successful journalist/editor, and now lives in Beijing—knows what Westerners go for, so he has packaged a novel with all the necessary ingredients: references to the Tiananmen Square massacre, a succinct compilation of the most important events in 20th century Chinese history—this alone is evidence of the audience the author had in mind, as one would only do that for a foreign audience—and criticism of China’s “Golden Age of Ascendency.” There isn’t a cheaper way to success than giving people what they want, and Chan Koonchung knows exactly what a Western, in particular an American audience, wants to hear about China.

The novel’s premise isn’t bad, but to compare it with Orwell, as it has been done, or to call it a satire, when you can’t find a grain of wit or irony in it just shows how gullible Western readers are. The translation may be partially responsible for the cardboard atmosphere, but the main culprit is, no doubt, the author. From the get-go this is a book for fast-food lovers (read: lovers of preprocessed cultural experiences), and this is a novel written as if the author had a list with points to check, all based on market research: does he need a reference to English-language literature? Jane Austen. A reference to French culture? [insert name of] French red wine.

I can see why this novel has gotten so much attention: if you are an American businessman or journalist obsessed with the ascendance of China, this novel contains a lot of interesting information about contemporary China, without being too alienating in its cultural references, which are all carefully selected. But if you are actually interested in literature—after all, this book claims to be a novel—look for something else. The worst thing about this book, however, is not its bad writing and preprocessed message, but the fact that a product conceived in the most abject Capitalist style (that is, by conforming to the expectations of the largest possible market) can actually fool people by pretending that it’s the opposite of what it is.

[Melanie · Rating 1 out of 5]

1.5 star. Interesting ideas and observations, told in a very flat and boring way.

The "flow" of the story and the writing are definitely worth only 1 star, it is horribly clunky and wooden throughout. The characters are flat and uninteresting, and the dialogue often feels stilted. I'm not sure how much or even if this is a case of "lost-in-translation" (I read the Dutch translation and there were many moments where I could guess what the original version said and why that wouldn't really work out in translation anyway), but I found that I kept stumbling on awkward sentences and awkward storytelling, which sucked most of the enjoyment from my reading experience.

Having said that I do think this book deserves some credit. The premise is interesting and some of the ideas did get a snigger from me (like the Chinese-Western merged companies), and there were some quite astute observations about China that certainly rang true to me.
It is these observations that caused the controversy around this book (it was banned in China apparently), because they are mostly critical of the current state of affairs and thus pretty daring considering the fact that the authorities still keep a close eye on what gets published in and about China. So kudos to the author for trying something new and just bluntly putting out his not-so-subtle opinion on the current situation in China in the form of a warning about a possible future; and kudos for raising questions and sensitive issues in the minds of the readers, even though his treatment of these issues to me lacked... elegance?

All in all a hard book to rate, I didn't really enjoy reading this book, but it does have its merits, so I can't really hate it with a passion either.
I think I'll settle on 1.5 star: it broke away from the 1 star, but in the end it still falls short of a 2-star "ok".

[Nicole Miles · Rating 3 out of 5]

Really interesting look at Chinese politics through an apparently rather light veil of fiction.
I found that I could better appreciate the first part of the novel after the characters' roles were explained. As a story, it was…not bad. It was interesting to see how the characters' lives intersected here and there, and to see how their lives/society were. But it was not that memorable either…which, I suppose is stylistically similar to Orwell's novel, 1989, (though the world better resembles Brave New World in many ways and this similarity is pointed at in the novel itself at one point).
The epilogue onwards was a much more straightforward discussion of Chinese politics and was the best part of the book for me.
Although I've seen this book put on "sci-fi" shelves, its sci-fi elements are so slight as to not really bare mentioning. Make no mistake, this is a political novel. And it is worth the read.
(3 stars for the main story + 1 star for the epilogue)
3.5 stars

[Rob · Rating 4 out of 5]

...I suppose I can see why the Chinese government would not be thrilled with the publication of The Fat Years. I think the answer to the riddle of the missing month is so over the top however, that nobody would take it too seriously, including the censors in China. It does offer the western readers a glimpse of life in urban China that we don't often get to see. It shows a level criticism of the government, discussions on various historical events that are usually taboo and a number of frank comments of sexuality that from an author living in Beijing rarely encountered by the western reader. It probably lacks something of the excitement of reading a banned book that it would have for someone living in mainland China but it is well worth reading nonetheless. As long as the reader has a little patience with the writing style, that is.

Full Random Comments review

[Tuck · Rating 2 out of 5]

nan talese is usually a stamp of excellence, a sign that the product you are holding is quality, exciting, literature even. this could be an exciting novel of famine, great leaps forward and people's ability to overcome great hardships. but it actually is a poor story written rather badly. see this instead From Wonso Pond: A Korean Novel or this The Orphan Master's Son or this Wolf Totem or this talese imprint The Ginseng Hunter: A Novel

[Catherine Mccormick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I figured it was time for me to start reading some Chinese literature. This is a powerful country which is going to figure largely in our futures. The book is sometimes described as "sci-fi" which I totally disagree with. It's dystopic (is that a word?) but paints a very realistic picture of what little we know about the society. It's a political novel and I like that. People seem to have developed amnesia to the events of 1989 (and other years) - why is this happening? But there are some people who do remember the "lost month". This book has a lot to say about contemporary China and directs us to think about what we do know and what we don't know.

[Qiaoyun.Hu · Rating 5 out of 5]

映射中国所谓“敏感”过往为什么会被集体的选择性失忆。一方面可能是当政者的畏惧与掩饰，另一方面可能是国人在市场经济下忙于生计，活在所谓的“盛世”谎言下自嗨也无暇思考上层建筑的事情了。书中针对未来盛世的系列描述（六四 严打等历史的追忆，极权政体的系列延续），联系现状，无不一语成谶。书中所言的“28天”，是无法忘却也不能忘记的！在这个时代，我们需要时刻保持清醒。不得不承认中国这四十年来在经济改革上取得了巨大成就，但政治改革（宪政民主 言论自由 出版自由 结社自由 人权问题等）在党本位利益或维稳借口下何时&如何向前走，仍是一个迷思。

人民对于政治动荡的反感与对繁荣经济的向往，才使得有社会主义特色的中国资本主义一党专政成为中国当前最好的选择，也被人民一直默许着……

[Sotiris Makrygiannis · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the west the people give the right to politicians, in China is the other way around. A good book to understand Modern China inner political debate and organization

[Milena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ich habe viel gelernt und habe oft das Handy zum Googlen in die Hand genommen.

Einen Stern Abzug gibt es, weil manche Kapitel für meinen Geschmack einfach zu viele Fachbegriffe beinhalteten.

[Aleister:] · Rating 2 out of 5]

At first, I did not see the small sub-title on the cover (the book no one in China dares publish or so in my version), which probably would've prevented me from picking up the book at all. The horrible preface also did its best to stop me from continuing on, and the all-over-the-place set-up (love story with lacking build-up, one-dimensional characters etc.) constituted another obstacle, which I can proudly say I've overcome in my struggle to finish this book. Only the latter third of the book is actually interesting (because it portrays China's economic and political development rather realistically, although one HAS TO remember that this book is still FICTION), but the essence remains problematic: the Chinese people are happy out of irrationality, they have been drugged out of their minds and memories (does that not seem like a standard Western notion of inferiority of other peoples, just better disguised?).

Contrary to the preface, the translator's note is slightly better, although historians might differ in their opinion here. But this does not matter in the slightest for people looking for a book supporting their own negative sentiments towards China, who probably constitute the majority of readers, as the sub-title is evidence enough that the book is marketed mainly towards them. All in all, a waste of my time that I should have invested into a good historical work about modern China.

[Brady Turpin · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have a lot of thoughts on this book--way more that I could put down here. Chan's work is interesting in that I am not sure if he is being critical of the government or merely stating what he sees. Either way, it was pretty clear why this has not been published in mainland China.

I did find the book very relevant to today's PRC, but the writing/story building was not that impressive. Perhaps the Chinese edition is better, as it is not filtered through translation.

[Eva Marijke · Rating 3 out of 5]

Deze roman geeft een interessante kijk op de ontwikkelingen in China, maar leest helaas wel stug.

[Steven Langdon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chan Koonchung has written a remarkable and deeply insightful novel about contemporary China. "The Fat Years" is a "Brave New World" or "News from Nowhere" social commentary on a China-that-might-be, given present trends. It is a book that sits thoughtfully on the critique side of the spectrum between utopia and dystopia -- and does not significantly disguise its focus on the present reality of Chinese society and politics.

Written in 2009, "The Fat Years" describes a 2013 China in economic ascendency, prospering after devaluation and debt lead to collapse in the US and Europe; Taiwanese writer Lao Chen lives in Beijing and finds himself caught up in the widespread euphoria of almost all Chinese, enjoying lives of increasing mass consumption -- he is the protagonist who guides us through the novel. Two old friends challenge his sense of complacency -- Fang Caodi who finds a month in 2011 is missing from official news accounts, and Little Xi who rekindles Lao's past passions for her from the days of dissident 1980's ferment. Lao Chen also finds himself, to his surprise, interacting closely with He Dongsheng, a very senior Communist Party bureaucrat who shares his enthusiasm for old Chinese cinema.

Part love story (between Lao and Little Xi,) part mystery (why is that month missing?) and part thriller (He Dongsheng is a kidnap target,) "The Fat Years" moves from one startling insight to another throughout its 300 pages. I have spent some time in China -- and was especially struck by the following:
* the reports of extensive luxury goods consumption in Beijing and elsewhere. Hong Kong has had this flavour in the past, I found, Beijing not so much so.
* the rise of largescale Protestant Christianity in parts of the countryside -- and the way that the Communist party authorities seemed prepared to deal with it with a reasonable degree of respect. Such a social phenomenon, in the aftermath of Falun Gong, is remarkable.
* discussion of the differing perspectives of Chinese from Hong Kong or Taiwan vis-a-vis mainland China. "The intellectual elites of China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong think about things in completely different ways," says He, "their awareness, discourse, concepts of history, and worldviews are fundamentally different."
* the vision of agreement between China and Japan that the book seems to posit, associated with China's economic ascendancy. This notion is particularly dramatic given the present conflict between the two countries over the Senkaku or Diaoyu islands.

The most fascinating part of the book, however, is the final conversation/confrontation between the Communist He and the dissidents Fang, Little Xi and (in the end) Lao. It is partly a debate about remembering history (especially the 1989 democracy struggles in China;) it is also in part an ambivalent recognition of the strength of the Communist party in protecting against the potential chaos of social collapse; but it is above all a call for democratic freedom and the state to "live together" rather than "die together" via authoritarian repression. Comrade He accepts the idea of "living together," in part because of his memories of past idealism -- and his fear of dangerous fascist elements who could take over the Communist party in a more authoritarian context. But Chan Koonchung has made it clear that he is not certain that a "living together" strategy can endure -- and he is also worried that what he calls "90 percent freedom" is not enough for China to meet its people's full aspirations.

This may not be the best novel you will ever read -- its characters could be developed more deeply and its plot is somewhat sparse. But the insights provided into one of the world's most important societies make "The Fat Years" a superb book. The reasons for Chinese happiness will also leave you amused, and ready to re-read Aldous Huxley's drugged fantasy "Brave New World."

[Roxy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not sure why people rate this so poorly outside of the fact that they aren't happy with all the Chinese political details. I personally loved the challenge of this book to look up the names and events unfamiliar to me. I especially loved getting a crash course in dissident literature in China, and I am still avidly reading through that book list. What makes the politics of this book even better is seeing larger national debates through the gaze of the characters, each of whom is representative of political currents running through the quotidian lives of Chinese people in the past and today (just look at 2014's Hong Kong protests and clashes between Han and Uighur peoples to see how much the ideas presented in this book continue to flow through the culture at large).

The major theme here is the struggle to determine whether being happy inside of a false reality is better than being unhappy in a more true reality. Not only does this theme transcend the mean political message that made this a banned book - it transcends cultures. I was reminded of the 1990s, America's "fat years," when it seemed that we could do no wrong and would be prosperous forever. The reality that many people silently lived through while the larger fiction took hold prospered oppression for the sake of creature comforts and we are still living with the consequences of the symbolic decay that is bound to follow. Chan's characters who remember the lost month share in common something more than the presence of drugs in their system, they share a place as outsiders in Chinese society - some by choice, others by circumstance. And outsiders have no place inside dreams of prosperity, as their very existence exposes the lie.

The way Chan weaves personal love stories in also wrapped this theme into the personal world. How many of us have lived in a false happiness in our personal lives to avoid a more truthful reality? How many of us have spun a sugar fantasy around our memories, erasing and deleting as needed, to be comfortable no matter the cost? Lao Chen as a character represents this most tellingly as the mediator between two worlds - a man forced to relinquish a rather immature fantasy of love for the much more messy reality. Chen also represents the dilemma of many immigrants who attempt to integrate (often times passionately supportive of the process), yet still find themselves alienated by the culture they embrace.

If you are a fan of literature exploring the nature of cognitive dissonance in culture, are interested in Chinese politics (or interested in learning more), and love a good distopian novel, I would highly recommend this book.

[Mircalla · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dalla Dittatura del Proletariato a quella del Partito unico


In Cina nel 2013 alcune persone si accorgono di conservare il ricordo di passati tumulti e di una fase di transizione non proprio pacifica, mentre tutti intorno a loro non se ne ricordano affatto e sembrano incontenibilmente felici.
Ora, in un posto come la Cina contemporanea che una persona comune, non un membro del Partito, possa essere felice è praticamente impossibile, e non perchè chissà cosa gli accada, ma solo perchè, come dice Ai Weiwei, non sono in molti quelli che si oppongono e se uno non ha neanche la libertà di opporsi non è che gli sia rimasto molto altro.
Il racconto pare più una speranza dell'autore che qualcuno si svegli da questa felicità prescritta dal Partito, il quale al momento cruciale ha scelto per tutti e, come pronosticato da Hobbes, non certo per la libertà, ma per una serena dittatura, che toglie i problemi e pensa anche per tutti i cittadini...
L'intera ricostruzione del processo di appropriazione del potere economico da parte di un paese che ha scelto di dare il nuovo modello di telefonino alla popolazione affamata di libertà, stordendone una buona fetta e ottenendo così la sua cieca obbedienza, è la parte più lucida e inquietante.
Quel che si racconta non è un futuro da fantascienza, ma solo la verità di quel che accade in questo momento in Cina, a pochi anni dall'epoca dell'Apertura e delle Riforme voluta da Deng, il quale però ha anche comandato il Massacro di Tiananmen e quel che si evince dalla lettura è che
in realtà i cinesi si sono persi molto più di un mese della loro storia...