A barbarian in China
Reviewed by Ben Antao
If you’ve ever wondered how a father’s views can influence his son, you only need to read Barbarian LOST by Alexandre Trudeau about his travels in China in 1990, 2006 and 2008. This informative and insightful travelogue takes a penetrating look at new China, its emergence as an economic powerhouse, shaped by political control of the communist party, with interesting historical nuggets interspersed no doubt for the edification of the philistines. Trudeau, 42, a documentary filmmaker and journalist, splices the narrative with novelistic techniques, like creating conflicts, to engage the reader.
The younger brother of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau tells the reader that he and his brother were first visiting China with their illustrious father Pierre Trudeau in 1990 when Dad told them, “Boys, you must not forget, the Chinese have often perceived westerners as barbarians. Think carefully about those occasions when you might be giving them good reason to do so.”
The son, fondly known as Sacha, obviously took his father’s advice to heart, judging not only from his book’s title but also from his meticulous commentary suggesting that “I’ll always be a little lost in China, that the endless banquet and smoky firmament are a reminder that a part of me never made it out.”
Barbarian LOST published by HarperCollins (2016) is a 288-page narrative set in 14pt (for easy on the eyes) contains nine chapters covering almost like a blanket the large sprawling land mass of China from north to south and east to west along the Yangtze River. For his trip Trudeau hires the services of a female Chinese translator Vivien, 35, also a journalist who has studied in America, and another young Chinese journalist named Sue during their travels in the south. This was a smart move, I thought, to engage a translator for help to understand the complex cultural nuances of the Chinese customs, even granting that some subtle sense might be lost in translation.
I’ve read travel books by Paul Theroux, the American novelist, and his journeys in India, England, Spain, Africa and South America and what excited me the most was to understand the travel writer and his perspectives. Similarly, in this book I found the character and personality of Trudeau even more revealing than his peregrinations in China.
“China can be frustratingly opaque, a most inwardly directed place,” he writes. “It moves fast and furiously. Hardly stopping for the Chinese, it certainly doesn’t stop for foreigners. Although not dangerous, China is still overwhelming.”
This is how he chose Vivien. “After exchanging brief emails with her, my instincts told me that she had some understanding of the Western mind---a must if she was going to deal with the likes of me. I feared my own disposition. I still felt myself something of a barbarian, a boisterous and judgmental type, the boy who injured himself by moving too fast and lightly through the sacred landscape, never noticing the stone stairs upon which he jumped, blind to the work that went into them, deaf to the prayers they were meant to carry.”
Upon Trudeau’s landing in Beijing in September 2006, he discovers Vivien who is from Shandong, south of Beijing but north of Shanghai, “as highly opinionated as I am. She freelances as a print journalist and is ready to defend her opinions in good English.”
He’s on a month-long trip. After the first night’s sleep, he tells her, “I’m here to figure things out. I want to see as many things and meet as many people as possible---journalists, intellectuals. But also farmers and workers, as well as activists, artists, prostitutes and business people.”
And so he tours around the old hutongs (slums) of Beijing, now redeveloped into skyscrapers. During the tour, Vivien asks, “So how do you feel about Tiananmen?”
“I would like to think that if I were Chinese, I would have been on the square, facing down the tanks for my freedom. But at the same time, I’m not blind to the benefits that stability has brought China since Tiananmen.”
“Sacha, trust me, I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m familiar with this government and its ways. I don’t see any good coming from corruption and injustice,” she replies.
Beijing is built on a great plain surrounded on all sides by mountains, he writes. To the north is the Great Wall and beyond the mountains towards the west lies a vast wasteland of dusty, rocky landscapes and shifting sands.
“The city sprawls almost to the mountains. Smog makes them invisible until we are very close. At their foot, the urban areas give way to the countryside, sprinkled with a few apple and peach orchards. The Ming emperors are buried in these foothills. Their tombs remain an attraction for tourists on their way to the Great Wall.”
The Ming emperors ruled from 1368-1644, after which came the Manchu rule (1644-1912), called the Qing dynasty.
They travel to Jinan where the main north-south axis from Beijing to Shanghai and the old east-west bloc of the Yellow River converge. Here Trudeau has an interview with Wu Fei, the scholar of the new Confucianism movement.
“Whatever our divergences, all New Confucianists are outside the system. We all want to take responsibility as Chinese men and women to pass on our culture to the next generation,” Wu says.
Trudeau summarizes Confucianism thus: “A popular interpretation of Confucius is that, to be happy and respected, we need to all behave in harmonious accord. All dress in the same way, in acknowledgement of our service to common ideals. All make the same oaths.”
In Qingdao, Vivien has set up a meeting with a young engineer Gan who studied at Tsinghua University. Gan is disappointed with the pursuit of real science in China, and instead is in export business.
“How can you have a legitimate pursuit of science when the leaders of the university are first and foremost politicians, not scientists? Even the professors are ranked according to their political power, not the quality of their work,” says Gan. “I witnessed professors selling their students’ research projects as their own. I got disgusted.”
Gan with a dash of fire in his eyes continues, “Politics are still involved in everything here. They’re exerting an irrational influence on things. This has to stop if China wants to be a serious country, scientifically and technically.”
Responding to Trudeau’s wish to visit a real village, Vivien takes him to Chongqing, deep in China in the west. Travel in Chongqing can be done in two ways, he writes, by automobiles through tortuous and traffic-choked streets or on foot. The city once used manpower to carry goods between the Yangtze and the city above the river.
Here he meets Li Gang, a lawyer for migrant workers. Li takes them to his village. “His home is a hovel, an ancient one-room, thatched roof habitation built of stone. Li’s wife is a very young and sweet-faced. In the tiny dark room, she quietly tends to the couple’s one-year-old daughter.”
Soon Trudeau realizes that the village is devoid of young people who were working outside as Li once did. Across the rolling hills, as far as he can see, are farms and fields, with groupings of houses like Li’s village. The village is connected to the rest of China in a variety of ways, both wired and wireless.
In the late Qing dynasty much of the Chinese countryside was owned by large landholders who relied on impoverished peasants to farm the land. It’s here that Mao Zedong, himself born of a rich peasant father, started his peasant revolution that culminated into the Great Leap Forward in the late 1950s and the subsequent Cultural Revolution. After Mao came Deng Xiaoping, the second emperor of the Communist dynasty.
The characterization of the Communist rule as “dynasty” by Trudeau shocked me at first, but then after due reflection it seems dynastic rule is what the Chinese people have been used to since 3000 B.C. Time may flow like the eternal river but the spirit of the ruled does not. They seek authority as though it was always ordained to be so.
Vivien and Trudeau take a four-day cruise on the Yangtze. “By the looks of it, I would say that this boat isn’t just for tourists,” she tells him. “I don’t think the third-or fourth-class passengers are on this boat for fun. It must be a cheap way to get somewhere if you have the time.”
During the cruise they have time to talk at length and make observations. “China is a country of mountains,” he says, “an uphill country. From the shores of the Pacific in the east, it rises progressively as one moves westward. Along its southwest border is Earth’s highest mountain, Mount Everest, at 8,848 metres.”
“One of the greatest of Chinese classics, Journey to the West, is about a journey into the mountains,” Vivien replies. “It’s a story of a physical ascension but also implies a Buddhist spiritual ascension toward enlightenment. But the connections there now seem quaint ---literary and historical.”
Travelling through Shanghai they stay at a cheap hotel. “Anywhere in China, Shanghai included,” writes Trudeau, “thirty dollars or less gets you a room with a private bathroom and clean sheets.”
With his friend Deryk who has married a Chinese woman, Trudeau visits a nightclub. “Travelling alone and too shy to reach out in any other way, for me, the dance floor has often been a way to commune if not communicate with the locals. A kind of complicity is established among dancers without a need for words. For a moment, dazzled by the rhythm, I might feel myself a part of the place. I mighty feel myself known and loved by the beautiful strangers round me.”
While in the city he meets a Chinese teacher named John, who tells him about the Song dynasty, apparently an important period in Chinese history.
In Suzhou he visits a silk manufacturing facility and the reader gets a full lowdown on the silk fabric and its prestige. “Wearing silk was long a sign of status and sophistication,” he writes. “When lords met, the one in silk looked down on the others.”
Later, while in a restaurant Vivien explains that too much hot food is bad for health. “Eating is a kind of balancing act,” she says.
This gives Trudeau another chance to observe: “The Chinese believe that the forces of yin (feminine) and yang (masculine) exist in all things, including us humans. Imbalances can exist in the world, in the body or in the soul; they are causes of misfortune and ailment. So one is constantly seeking to manage these forces in one’s behaviour and surroundings.”
In Guangzhou (once known as Canton) in the south Trudeau wants to visit a masseuse in the red light district where massage parlours and brothels are plentiful. Here Sue accompanies them. The reader gets a good description of the area, its highlights and flesh spots.
“As I stand before the staircase,” he writes, “my own puritanism comes crashing down upon me. I’m suddenly uncomfortable to be thinking all this sexuality through, or at least saddened by the thought of intimately engaging a young woman about her sexual existence. I conclude that our approach is all wrong.”
Later they travel through Shenzhen to check out some manufacturing companies, and then go to Hong Kong where Trudeau interviews the editor of South China Morning Post, the English daily. Milton Chang asks him how he would deal with the China story.
Trudeau replies, “As a travel writer, an extension of the travel filmmaking that I’ve been doing. My mission is to track glimpses, chosen moments that might reveal the grand affairs that lie beneath. Then to sew them all together into something that’s fun and easy to read.”
Well, Barbarian LOST has been an interesting read. If there is one lesson this book has confirmed for me, it is this: Make all the money you want in China but keep out of politics. And to western critics who cry foul at the abuse of human rights in China, the Chinese say that human rights for the masses means basic rights for food, clothing and shelter.
Oct 08/16
Words: 2040