Rich with details of everyday life, this multifaceted social and cultural history of China's leading metropolis in the twentieth century offers a kaleidoscopic view of Shanghai as the major site of Chinese modernization. Engaging the entire span of Shanghai's modern history from the Opium War to the eve of the Communist takeover in 1949, Wen-hsin Yeh traces the evolution of a dazzling urban culture that became alternately isolated from and intertwined with China's tumultuous history. Looking in particular at Shanghai's leading banks, publishing enterprises, and department stores, she sketches the rise of a new maritime and capitalist economic culture among the city's middle class. Making extensive use of urban tales and visual representations, the book captures urbanite voices as it uncovers the sociocultural dynamics that shaped the people and their politics.
I enjoyed this book a fair amount. The concept of economism and the replacement of the imperial exam system with the capitalist xiaoshimin is a fairly interesting idea that connects the flow of Confucianism through China's turbulent 20th century history. However, one slight critique is that the book does not seem to find an easy way of introducing how Shanghai was affected by this. It ultimately does the task, but I thought the introduction lacked a certain amount of explanation over Shanghai's specific and unique connections.
While a delight to read, in some respects Shanghai Splendor is also a representative example of the worst tendencies of cultural history - which marries a relentless avoidance of anything resembling organized, analytical thought with a tenacious grasp on some of the most frustrating jargon known to academia ("discursive framework," "perceptual construction," "commodification," and *bonus* adding a new -ism to the pantheon: "economism") mixed scattershot with semi-lyrical prose dedicated to a paean of cultural objects and forms of ambiguous significance. This might well be taken in stride were it not for the stark ignorance of basic economics, the almost willful naivete (uncritically analyzing a magazine explicitly run by the CCP for propaganda purposes, as though it was a valid reflection of the urban experience), and the sort of semi-socialist sentimentality that hands to readers a carefully circumscribed list of insights from the period for the sake of a thinly veiled stab at modern anti-globalism and anti-capitalism.