The Last Days of Old Beijing: Life in the Vanishing Backstreets of a City Transformed

by Michael Meyer

A fascinating, intimate portrait of Beijing through the lens of its oldest neighborhood, facing destruction as the city, and China, relentlessly modernizes. Soon we will be able to say about old Beijing that what emperors, warlords, Japanese invaders, and Communist planners couldn’t eradicate, the market economy has. Nobody has been more aware of this than Michael Meyer. A long-time resident, Meyer has, for the past two years, lived as no other Westerner—in a shared courtyard home in Beijing’s oldest neighborhood, Dazhalan, on one of its famed hutong (lanes). There he volunteers to teach English at the local grade school and immerses himself in the community, recording with affection the life stories of the Widow, who shares his courtyard; coteacher Miss Zhu and student Little Liu; and the migrants Recycler Wang and Soldier Liu; among the many others who, despite great differences in age and profession, make up the fabric of this unique neighborhood. Their bond is rapidly being torn, however, by forced evictions as century-old houses and ways of life are increasingly destroyed to make way for shopping malls, the capital’s first Wal-Mart, high-rise buildings, and widened streets for cars replacing bicycles. Beijing has gone through this cycle many times, as Meyer reveals, but never with the kind of dislocation and overturning of its storied culture now occurring as the city prepares to host the 2008 Summer Olympics. Weaving historical vignettes of Beijing and China over a thousand years through his narrative, Meyer captures the city’s deep past as he illuminates its present. With the kind of insight only someone on the inside can provide, The Last Days of Old Beijing brings this moment and the ebb and flow of daily lives on the other side of the planet into shining focus.

Genres: China, Nonfiction, History, Travel, Asia, Memoir, Politics

355 pages, Hardcover

First published June 24, 2008

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Michael Meyer is an American travel writer and the author of In Manchuria: A Village Called Wasteland and the Transformation of Rural China and The Last Days of Old Beijing: Life in the Vanishing Backstreets of a City Transformed. He graduated from University of Wisconsin–Madison. He first went to China in 1995 with the Peace Corps. Following Peace Corps, he graduated from the University of California, Berkeley, where he studied writing under Adam Hochschild and Maxine Hong Kingston.

His work has appeared in The New York Times, Time, Smithsonian, the New York Times Book Review, the Financial Times, Reader’s Digest, the Los Angeles Times, the Chicago Tribune, The Iowa Review, and on This American Life.

In China, he has represented the National Geographic Society’s Center for Sustainable Destinations, training China’s UNESCO World Heritage Site managers in preservation practices.

He lives in Singapore and Pittsburgh, where he is an Assistant Professor of English at the University of Pittsburgh, teaching Nonfiction writing.

After a five year clearance delay, his book The Last Days of Old Beijing was published in mainland China.

Reviews

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although I took forever to read “The Last Days of Old Beijing” I enjoyed the book (the lengthy read was entirely my fault, not the author’s.) It gets three and ½ (3.5) stars. Or as Dan would have it, 3 stars and a smiley face: *** :-)

I’ve been to Beijing twice, but only flying in & out to get to Tianjin. I never got to see anything of the city (and in the mid 90’s the airport was pretty dismal, although I was happily able to find some dolls requested by one of my Taiwanese friends.) I had, but declined, another chance to visit before the Three Gorges Dam was completed. By which chance I got to watch live the reentry and loss of Columbia on Feb 1st 2003.

On the other hand I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the back lanes of some other older Asian cities. So, while I don’t have any direct knowledge of the area that existed before the Front Gate, I am attuned to the living conditions and how people interact.

I do and I don’t envy the author. I do envy his far greater skill in spoken and written Mandarin. I also envy his ability to eat authentic cuisine pretty much any hour of any day. And I also envy his working with students teaching English. At the same time, I generally like the challenges of “engineering”. Discovering or defining problems and coming up with appropriate and often creative solutions is something I would rather do. I’m also enough of a materialist that indoor plumbing is hard to give up.

But in the end I would have liked to immerse myself as he did in a place that I could call home instead of constantly living out of a bag. I never shied away from going out on my own to explore (often on foot), I was also never in one place for longer than 3-4 weeks. But If I changed jobs and had to travel more frequently again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

My experience in China was long before they were awarded the 2008 Summer Olympics. I went there for a couple of weeks in December to oversee the installation of some equipment in a customer’s new factory (a Motorola plant in a new science/industrial park outside if Tianjin.) I had just been over in Taiwan (Chung Li) in a different Motorola plant (one I had visited many times). It was interesting to observe how similar the workers were in both places. Given that only a fraction of China’s population is members of the CCC, it wasn’t too surprising. But above all, the people are people – just like everywhere. And that is what I took away from this book.

Yes, it is all about the “improvement” that Beijing’s faceless authority was inflicting on itself and how it created a soulless, me-too, urban center of traffic jams (get in line with Bangkok, Manila, Kuala Lumpur, Taipei, and Singapore) and high-rises. But it is also about the people who were the city that Mao had desired, but were now being cast aside for “modernization” and greed. (The book correctly points out that the majority of public official corruption cases are tied to real estate development.)

When deciding to “clean up” these people were shunted off into remote, sterile housing communities (hi-rises) that stacked them vertically instead of horizontally as in the hutongs. The book details how a number of neighbors and friends were affected by this transformation and how surprisingly some (for the duration of the narrative) were not. It is these people that keep the story fresh as similar incidents are played out over a few years.

Since the destruction of an area is seemingly capricious and can occur with little warning, the residents act and talk as if they are under siege. And in a very real sense they are. One thing can be interpreted as indicative of their state of mind is the almost constant litany of “do you know when they are…” they are asked. When I was reading the book (in very small snatches) I kept thinking that the author was being asked this more often than most, because as a foreigner he must have some special knowledge or insight. Now, after reflection, I think it was just a stylistic thing and that the question was probably asked of everyone just as “Chi Fan” would be.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

This brings together a number of topics I have a personal interest in (and professional connection to): China, architecture, city planning and history. I was almost certain I’d enjoy a book that mused on all these different areas, and I found it to largely be an engaging read.

Meyer moved to China in the mid 90s with the Peace Corps in rural Sichuan, later moving to Beijing to teach and pursue his interest in the destruction of the city as a sort of side endeavour. The book is mostly successful in its execution - tracking the demolition and redevelopment of the 胡同 (hutong: lane or alley particularly distinctive to Beijing) in the build up to the 2008 Olympics in China. Meyer lived in a subdivided courtyard home in one of these hutongs in the centre of the city alongside locals and migrants and taught at a local primary school. He meets locals and historians who help him learn about the history of the area and the long history of destruction of different areas of Beijing and eras of architecture, as well as providing some historical context on urban planning in China.

Meyer’s book covers the period before I first visited China (up to 2007/early 2008) so it was fascinating to gain an impression of - and insight into - how much of the older parts of Beijing had been lost even before I first visited. I witnessed the end product of the reconstruction of Qianmen Street, and had no idea of the background to its redevelopment. Living in Nanjing and visiting Shanghai regularly I witnessed with my own eyes the destruction of the only remaining traditional neighbourhoods in central Nanjing and Xiaonanmen in Shanghai. The heartbreaking part is (and this is a focus of Meyer’s book) it’s not just the loss of unique and historic architecture but the loss of a way of life - those who leave these neighbourhoods end up in tower blocks on the edge of the city where they live in secluded apartments far from services. The trade off is that they have a more comfortable place to live, but what is lost is irretrievable.

My only real criticism was that the book felt a little bit too long and that some of the chapters could have been cut out or better edited. A fault of many “westerner writes about China” books (in my view) is how the author inserts themselves into too much of the narrative or recounts generic/uninteresting “foreigner abroad” details, but fortunately this wasn’t the case here.

Recommended! I’ll definitely check out more of Meyer’s writing.

[Sue · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michael Meyer lived in one of Beijing’s hutong neighborhoods and came to know it in the most personal ways, as a living, organic entity. When he decided to move there, the old courtyard residences of Beijing were already being torn down at a rapid rate, a rate that was accelerating in anticipation of the Beijing Olympics.

A person could awake one morning and find the dreaded character painted on his house that indicated it was slated for demolition. No one ever saw “The Hand” come to paint the character, but the occupant usually was given two weeks to vacate. Usually the compensation would be inadequate to find acceptable housing except deep in the suburbs, assuring that the person would now have a brutal commute, in addition to losing his past and his neighborhood.

Said one conservationist, reflecting on the legacy of the Cultural Revolution, "In the 1960s and '70s, we destroyed our culture angrily. In the 1980s to now, we're destroying ur culture happily." The new mantra in China is modernization, no matter the cost.

Hutong destruction was disparaged by preservations and intellectuals, but such people were always on the outside, regarded as the impractical elite and hence discounted. Meyer wanted to see for himself. So in 2005, three years before the Olympics were to begin, Meyer moved to the hutong, where he had a room on a courtyard, cold in winter, broiling in summer, and with access to a latrine somewhere nearby. But he reveled in the warm friendships, the local shops and cafes, the nearby lakes, and the local school, where he taught English as a volunteer. He reveled. There can be no other word.

Those local and personal stories are all here. As well as stories of preservation struggles elsewhere in China and abroad. And histories of Beijing’s architecture through dynasties, invasions, and Maoism. And anecdotes of brave individuals who fought to save parts of Beijing. There’s reflection on the nature of progress versus preservation. Really, there’s a lot here. A lot.

If you are planning to visit Beijing, I strongly recommend this book. It will cause you to look around the city and understand it and question it more than you can possibly imagine. But be aware that the book does leap among the various threads I’ve mentioned. It often feels splintered, and I struggled with continuity. I often felt that Meyer had so much he wanted to include that the book’s organization and story line suffered.

I waffled on the stars for this book. I wanted 3.5.

In his embrace of his subject and in his thoroughness of research, Meyer is exemplary. The most important ingredients are already there. I’ll make a prediction: This is a young man’s book, and he’ll get better at putting it all together. I look forward to reading later books.

[Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

As China hosts the Olympics, stories abound about the transformation of the Chinese capital into a modern, efficient city. High rises, shopping centers and eight lane boulevards are rising out of a fictive nowhere. In Michael Meyer’s wonderful new book, this transformation by bureaucratic fiat has very real consequences on the residents of the old hutong (narrow lane) neighborhoods that are the traditional core of Beijing. Meyer, who lives in a crumbling hutong southwest of Tiananmen Square, is a witness to the encroaching destruction of his surrounding neighborhoods. Literally overnight, chai (“to be razed”) notices put up by a nameless/faceless system work their way through the old districts like an out of control oil spill. This is not a carefully planned Hausmannian makeover, but a hodge-podge scramble for development rights and quick profits. Meyer doesn’t romanticize the hutong housing; four pit toilets for over 1000 residents, no hot water and coal braziers for heating. Even the residents complain. It is the “…intangible social patterns” that make the hutong unique and so different from the high rise apartment blocks. “They did not…witness how even small fissures – a new road; the eviction of a few families – led to irreparable fractures.” By introducing us to his neighbors and daily encounters Meyer humanizes this enormous upheaval that has already displaced more than 500,000 people in Beijing.

[Sam Gilbert · Rating 3 out of 5]

While by most standards this is a pretty good book—vivid characters, interesting topic diligently pursued, and so on—at a certain point the reader confronts Meyer's writing, his basic use of English, and that is where the book collapses. Here are a few of the worst examples, collected mostly from a span of twelve pages.

"In Chinese, the still ubiquitous phrase is weifang gaizao, appended [he meant "abbreviated"] to weigai" (38–39)

" . . . adding new luster to a city whose economy was already surging as the capital of the fastest growing economy in the world" (54–55)

"Hot pot is known as a Beijing cuisine [he meant "dish"]" (62)

"Winter was my favorite season in Beijing, despite that our breath froze even inside the house" (62)

"skates made by sliding a blade into a grooved shoe soul" (66)

Meyer's syntax is tedious. His sentences almost invariably begin with "The" or "In." On page 55 are five paragraphs. Numbers 2, 3, and 5 begin with "The Investigation"; number 4 begins with "The report."

The book reads like a hastily written first draft.

[Cynthia · Rating 5 out of 5]

When we went to Beijing in March 2008, we were lucky to stay in a hotel where we could walk directly into a traditional hutong neighborhood. The old buildings were beautiful, and we quickly found a favorite breakfast shop, drinks shop, and small park with water and bridges nearby. What I remember most, beyond the hutong buildings, was the friendliness of the people who lived there. Though one of the largest shopping malls in Beijing and the Forbidden City were both just a couple of blocks away, we still felt like we had experienced a small piece of the traditional China. A few months later, watching the 2008 summer Olympics on television, I wondered how much of "our" hutong remained, and if it did, how long it would survive.

Michael Meyer's book is a wonderfully detailed memoir of his time as a hutong resident and English teacher in Beijing during a time of significant change as the city prepared to host the Olympics.

[Daniel Kukwa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sometimes, it's a history book...then it's an urban design analysis...then it's a personal memoir...and often that can be frustrating. Luckily, it doesn't impact too much on its enjoyability, and it doesn't mitigate the sadness behind progress being another word for annihilation of the past. I would be willing to bet that most of what is presented in this book is, a decade plus since publication, all but extinct.

[Lorna · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Last Days of Old Beijing by author Michael Meyer was a very interesting account of his personal experiences when he decided to remain in Beijing after a stint in the Peace Corps. Meyer applied as a volunteer, teaching English in the local elementary school and choosing to live in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Beijing, the hutong, Dazhalan.

Woven into his personal experiences of teaching and living in the hutong was how he explored one thousand years of Chinese history in the book as well as the present struggles of his neighbors, fellow teachers and students as the government was condemning much of the hutongs as the revitalization process was taking over old Beijing, particularly in advance of the World Olympics in 2008.

Having spent an afternoon in the hutong Dazhalan on a recent visit to China, it was particularly heartening to read of the struggle of the people to maintain their way of life in the face of "progress" as they were condemning century old homes and their way of life, many of them having to eventually relocate to one of the modern high-rise apartment buildings.

Of particular interest was Meyer's relationship with the Widow. "She wears a fleece vest and forearm mufflers that match the vermilion and crimson wood beams of our courtyard home. When I picture my neighbor the Widow, I see these colors--dull whites and grays, lustrous yellows, imperial reds--and smell ashes and age. She is the shade and scent of our hutong, one of the lanes that lattice the heart of Beijing."

[Karlan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author spent time in China in the Peace Corps and then stayed on to study and work as a volunteer English teacher for 4th graders and for senior citizens. The book includes interesting chapters of history interspersed with Meyer's own experiences. His living accommodations were primitive, but he felt privileged to live in an old part of Beijing which was rapidly being torn down. The tradition of tearing down the old to build anew is an ancient one in China, and it was fascinating to read about what has happened. Teens might enjoy this, too.

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting contrast to "Beijing Welcomes You," which focused on changes in the city more specifically through the lens of the Olympics. Meyer writes more broadly about living in Beijing and working as a teacher. His experiences at his school, and in the hutong, traditional courtyard housing in which he found community, are appealing. His preservationist bent is a blessing and a curse. For me, the book started to slump under the weight of its details, and as a more casual reader about Chinese culture, I had trouble finishing it.

[A. · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book meandered a bit, but it was otherwise an interesting read about a fascinating part of Beijing and about pre-Olympics life there. I am very excited to see the hutong now when we visit.

[Riflebird M · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is more than a book on Chinese urban history, or a story of a Westerner gone native in an impoverished area. It proceeds from the clear remit of wanting to find out whether beyond the voices of Westerners and the upper-class Chinese, the inhabitants of the old hutong districts in Beijing themselves are invested in maintaining the labyrinthine streets, with their lack of creature comforts. Interspersed with segments of the history of Beijing, the state of heritage protection in other parts of China and interviews with architects and urban developers are accounts of the lives of Michael Meyer's neighbours, hutong dwellers of differing ages and social positions. For such a short book, it packs a lot of content that could in other hands have become dragging or preachy, but Last Days is a well-paced, delightful, sometimes-humorous, often-melancholy and always poignant account of the past and present of the Beijing hutongs.

[Steven Yenzer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm normally skeptical about white people's guides to foreign countries, but Meyer avoids some of the pitfalls that normally plague this genre. He immersed himself in hutong life, did plenty of research, and approaches his subject with sensitivity and completely lacking in condescension. The Last Days of Old Beijing is a terrific look into a very specific part of Beijing culture.

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was planning to read Rob Gifford's 'China Road' and this book in May, before leaving for my month-long trip to China. Realizing I just didn't have the time to read both, I stopped reading 'China Road' and switched to reading this since Beijing was one of the places I planned to visit. I'm glad I made that decision, and the decision to buy the Kindle book to continue reading on my phone into the trip.

I was about 60% of the way through the book when I arrived in Beijing. It's a surreal experience to come across places that you've just been reading about, especially when you're not expecting it. My brother had booked our Beijing accommodation for us after I had already started my trip, so I hadn't researched the area we'd be staying in beforehand. Our hostel was on 大栅栏 (Dazhalan West Street). While walking to the hostel that first day, it crossed my mind that the name Dazhalan sounded like the area Meyer lived in and described in the book. But what I saw was not what I had imagined from his descriptions. It was the 'New Beijing' -- old buildings razed, streets widened, new buildings constructed in the old style.

I finally finished the book on the train from Beijing to Shanghai and that's when I was able to make more connections. Meyer has translated the Chinese names into English, using those English names throughout the book. He has an English name to original Chinese mapping in the book's appendix, but the downside to reading an e-book is the difficulty of just flipping and browsing the book while you're reading, so I didn't actually get to that appendix until after I finished the book.

Under that personal experience of reading the book, visiting Beijing, staying in and exploring Dazhalan without having finished the book, this book gets 5 stars. Everything Meyer writes about is all the more relevant when you actually visit and see it with your own eyes. I liked his writing style, the flow of the book, and his approach in writing about the quickly-disappearing hutongs of Beijing. My only regret is not finishing the book before actually leaving Beijing.

[Kuang Ting · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first book on China of Mr. Meyer. I read his second book 'In Manchuria' a few weeks ago. I find his writing becoming more mature in the later book, where he demonstrates deeper understanding of China. Meyer spent two years living in the alley streets of Beijing and teaching English in the primary school of that area. He writes down the approaching demolition for upcoming Beijing Olympics.

Chinese government believed these alleys were outdated and ugly. A program for renewing these alleys was underway furiously. To many, it means the disappearance of traditions. These structures could be traced back hundreds of years. The people there have this kind of living for generations. Many, especially elders, didn't want to leave 'home'.

After all, the place was the whole world they knew. Unfortunately, old things needed to be removed because they were in the way of modern economic development. This book discuss many aspects of the old life in the alleys. It also gives history on the urban development of the Chinese capital.

The book introduces readers to the world of common people less known to intellectuals. We tend to romanticize the old worlds. However to some residents, they were happy to move into new apartments because they could finally enjoy basic utilities. On contrary, some residents were angry for the sudden 'purge' as it was sometimes merciless.

It was about 900 days away from Beijing Olympics. The government thought it was the first time for over one hundred years to show the world the power and beauty of China. Several measures were taken to 'enhance' the civil quality of everyone. For example, officials were required to take English courses for greeting foreign tourists.

Mr. Meyer also shows us some basic logic of urban planning. I find these knowledge interesting because it teaches me how to appreciate a city. Meyer writes stories from architects, conservation activists, and many more related figures as well. It's an enjoyable read. This book is particularly insightful for someone eager to learn more about Beijing.

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Abso-stinkin-lutely fascinating. I may be biased because I think I was Chinese in a former life. And I wish I was Chinese in this life. Either way, I think China is so interesting. Also, I like Chinese food a lot. When I was in China I had a bacon/cabbage dish that was so good. The bacon was in cubes, not strips. And it was covered in an amazing sauce, perhaps soy sauce based. If you ask people in China a 'yes or no' question, they always say 'yes'. So frustrating. Also, if you ask a non-yes/no question, they simply tell you what they think you want to hear and whatever words they know in English. Hence, I never could figure out what the sauce was made out of. Probably dog blood or something. In that case, I LOVE dog blood.

This book made me sad to think about all the people that are losing their homes because the Chinese government decides that there are better things for them. The Chinese government just does stuff, stuff that doesn't always benefit actual people, but often just benefits the image of China. Very weird. Also, the Chinese government is/was so obsessed with the Olympics. I would love to read a sequel to this book about Beijing after the Olympics are over and what they do with all the stuff that was built just for the games. Prior to the games, there was so much build-up that I can't imagine where so many resources could be reallocated afterwards.

Anyway, if you read this book, you should also check out the movie 'Boomtown Beijing' on snagfilms.com. It fit in beautifully with this book.

[Asta · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me three attempts to finish this book, but don't count that against the author or the book. First I thought this was an easier read, say, more like Peter Hessler's excellent books about China, and I set it aside for another time. Then.. I started reading it again.. and needed a break from it, the destruction of the traditional neighborhoods and the futile resistance against this destruction is hard to read about. This time around I finally finished it, and I feel a bit abandoned. I would like to spend more time with the author in his hutong neighborhood, meeting all these interesting characters and learning about life in Beijing. This is not a book to take to the beach, rather this is a book to read slowly in order to digest all the information within. You learn about the destructive policies that made 1,5 million people homeless in preparation for the Beijing Olympics. You also learn about the history of Beijing, and how depriving people of their homes has a long history in China. All is enormously interesting, but my favorite chapters were the ones about daily life in Beijing, where the author takes you along and shows you how his day-to-day life was while he lived in Beijing just before the Olympics. Michael Meyer has a great eye for detail, and makes the city, its people, and in particular his own neighborhood come alive. If you have any interest in China, read this book. It may take you a while, but you'll be glad you did.

[Mark · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you go to Beijing, take a Lonely Planet guide for the maps, but if you really want to understand the city--its past, present, future, its real people and their character--read Mike Meyer's "Last Days." Meyer lived and worked for several years in the Dazhalan neighborhood he describes, in a traditional hutong courtyard house in Old Beijing. He taught English in a small public school there and got to know his neighbors, mostly poor people living under the constant threat of losing their homes to urban renewal. Any morning they could wake to find a symbol meaning "to be razed" painted by an unseen Hand on their wall. An inadequate buyout and a relocation to a suburban highrise far from their work and friends would follow. The development and real estate speculation boom of the last 15 years used the pretext of the 2008 Olympics to "modernize" the old city for foreign eyes, pitting historical character against enormous profits and prestige. Meyer is a great storyteller, plus he alternates his stories of ordinary Beijingers with excellent investigative journalism, history, and balanced observation and commentary. Even if you don't get to visit Beijing, read this book to understand better what's happening in China now, in the early years of its likely ascension to the status of world's foremost economic power.

[Phil · Rating 3 out of 5]

Based on our trip to Beijing last year, the author seems to portray life in Beijing's Dazhalan hutong accurately - close community, simple lifestyle, etc. He also describes the government's almost ruthless effort to eradicate the old hutong in favor of new, efficient (if soulless) highrises. Dazhalan was his home for several years as an English teacher in Beijing.

Whta he couldn't explain, though, is why the government (or the people, for that matter) don't seem to be able to reach a middle ground - maintain the structure and lifestyle of the hutong, but with 21st century amenities. Most younger residents have left the hutong for the high rises, because they want indoor plumbing. The old folks stay on, because thats what they know, and continue to use the communal facilities on each block. Noone seems to be capable of sensitve renovation/restoration. New Orleans' French Quarter's still old and quaint, but it functions in today's lifestyle, so people want to stay.

The book's well written, with interesting stories of his neigbors, but the author rambles a bit - could be a bit tighter.

[Bonnie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Meyer provides a fascinating insight into life in China's old neighborhoods, the hutongs. He writes about his own experience teaching English while living in a hutong as well as explaining their history and the destruction of classic architecture in favor of "modernity" in both China and other countries.

While hutong life is not perfect - it definitely could use better utilities - it has a true community feel. If money had gone into providing improvements for the residents, it could have been the best of both worlds, modernity and tradition. Unfortunately, the powers that be chose to shuttle hutong residents into isolating and sterile apartment buildings far from the city center and across multiple highways.

I always mourn when beautiful historical architecture and lovely communities are destroyed. I'm glad that Meyer was able to capture the hutong's essence even as they disappear.

[Danica · Rating 3 out of 5]

- dry historical recounting of demolition in beijing = major snooze

+ against all expectations: cute?

- meandering narrative with nowhere to go = more zzz's

[Qiaoyun.Hu · Rating 5 out of 5]

蕴含历史韵味的建筑及其承载的生活方式逐渐消失，老北京渐行渐远，很明显地看出作者对北京胡同等建筑与市井生活的热爱，看出他为过往特色的消失而伤感，书中也暗含对“无形巨手”的讽刺与失落。历史和特色在这只手面前将何去何从……感慨作者对于老北京的探寻与思索，所谓的“现代化”是真的与过去一刀切吗？！

[Richard Sjoquist · Rating 5 out of 5]

Peter Hessler, the author of "River Town: Two Years on the Yangtze," describes Meyer as the emergent but leading authority writing in English on Beijing's architectural history and that he is. Meyer has crafted a piece of writing as masterful as much of the plan for the Old City. One does not need to be a student of architecture, however, to appreciate what he conveys, for with every foray into the past he returns to the present, fleshing out his neighbors in the hutong in Dazhalan where he lived for two years. The intercalary chapters, reminiscent of Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath," serve a useful function, juxtaposing what was with what is, and what will be in the near future. His tone, although unsentimental by his own admission, is nonetheless genuinely concerned. He cares about these people: the Widow, recycler, the shop owner, the noodle-maker, the primary school teacher.

Having lived in Beijing on and off for more than a decade, and having a wife whose family used to reside in this neighborhood, I can vouch for its authenticity. Meyer is dead on the mark in his observations of contemporary hutong life, and in his grasp of the local politics that now threatens it. Not content to rely upon his own observations and research, he seeks out Chinese architects and cultural preservationists, including the noted writer Feng Jicai, whose efforts to protect an ancient street in Tianjin are as poignant as they are admirable.

Meyer's writing is the real deal. It is far more than a travelogue. So if you're interested in more than a tour guide tidbit of commentary, or the uninformed and therefore superficial reporting of most journalists who happen by these backstreets, then this book is for you. In reading it you will not only gain a deep appreciation for a vanishing way of life but set your hands on the pulse of a great city--one which can remain greater if only Dazhalan and other neighborhoods like it are spared and renovated rather than razed to secure fake culture and economic gain.

I applaud Meyer on his achievement; his tenacity and devotion to detail, in "sifting and winnowing," (as is inscribed on a plaque on Bascom Hill at the UW-Madison, our alma mater), and his display of what the Chinese refer to as "ren qing." Both the people who populate his narrative and the field of comparative ethnography are well served by his commitment to the subject of this book. It is bound to become a classic in the field.

[Peter Vegel · Rating 4 out of 5]

After having lived in Beijing for three years now, and having gotten used to the "Beijing soul", to the point that going through the hutongs all the time and seeing a combination of pretty preservation and careless neglect and demolition (I don't live in, but next to the hutong. Actually, despite that I live in an apartment building, the address is still called "hutong x", revealing this also were hutong houses before), reading Meyer's book gave me a wonderful look into this distant past that is still very much with the people here: the daily struggles of migrant workers to earn enough of a livelihood to be able to stay another week, month, ... within the Second or Third Ring, the invisible eternal tussles between "the Hand" and people living in the hutong, all the bustle, sounds, and layers on top of layers of activity.

Much has changed since 2008 and the Olympics that put "New China" back on the map. Some, such as the activity I described, have not. Therefore I think it's easy for people to keep a very romantic idea about Beijing and hutong culture especially. Sure, there's still much to be found for those that look for it: cozy cafes and restaurants, fancy renovated houses for those with a bigger wallet, scenic spots that draw a lot of amateur photographers, ... But after having lived here for a long time and after having read this book, I think it's also necessary to realize that Beijing has kept on destroying much of its material heritage and replacing it with tasteless fakes (this happens in many historical places that draw tourists). Unfortunately, that still seems to be the reality today. And with China's hunger for "progress", it doesn't look like that's going to change fast, despite there being plenty of romantics walking around in the hutong.

In any case, reading this book was a beautiful testament to a past lost to unstoppable forces.

When I finally leave my hutong apartment, I won't miss it for the ramshackle mess it is. But I will miss it for the great memories that I had here, and thanks Meyer for making me realize that.

[Lara · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. After having spent time myself wandering the streets (could have been the old streets he mentioned), it was enjoyable seeing Beijing through another person's eyes. After having worked in China myself, in other cities, I to a certain extent pick up the desire most foreigners have after living in China, to eat non-Chinese food (i.e. those good random fusion resturants, decent western food, and the endless parade of Starbucks and Subway.) I unlike other foreigners still like poking in the old Beijing found wandering in those little mom and pop galleries and markets, as much as I like picking up western books and food.

The book itself was well researched, on a topic that I'm sure at times was difficult to find anything, and be able to portray it in an authentic way without being kicked out of the country.

It's a book that I would certainly suggest to those who will be going to Beijing, have an interest in Beijing, or have already been.

I enjoyed many of his little vinghnets of the city and experiences within the city.

I loved how one of his students commented on how they wanted to be a foreigner. The descriptions of the family who raised pigeons as a hobby were fascinating, as pigeons are viewed as such a dirty critter here. The widow's story was heart wrenching. I was curious to know more and more about her as the book progressed, and it was well worth the wait when I got to her chapter. Reading about her made me think whistfully of some of the older Chinese women I had come across in my time in China, being the mothers of some of my Chinese friends.

Some one-to-two-line zingers that I enjoyed from the book:

"I often say that on the eintire earth, there isn't a nation that could, in the name of the Olympics, destroy its own cities, and its own history. Beijing needs people who love to talk less and love to do more. They are just changing the appearance of Dazhalan, but that's not real, that's just fake antique. They don't want genuine history, but a pretend history." (p. 255) I find that this wasn't just true in Beijing, though. Certainly the idea of the Olympics did one up this in Beijing, but it's true through much of China. You look at Shanghai, a city that no longer has the real parts of China (aside from maybe the slums). When I lived in the middle of the country, my apartment buliding was updated by first knocking out all the windows from the top floor down, putting styrofoam over the existing brick, a thin layer of cement stucco, and then painted and fake bricks put on the bottom, then replacing the windows. China, and very evidently so, in Beijing, is all about the illusion of grandure.

Further in this page, Meyer is having a disscussion with a friend: "There is no such thing as a development company loosing tens of thousands by protecting a building. You can't say you're not profiting tens of thousands additionally. Earning less does not equal losing money." p 225-2556. Again, it's interesting to see that I'm not the only one who understands the overall lust that drives forth in the Chinese economy.

"The pond where Lao She (a Chinese architecht during the Great Leap Forward) was filled in with soil the razed city wall. Today, the site is a subway station." The sad thing, with much of the development of any country, not just China, is that historically important sites are becoming so meaningless, or rather a side bar to development. Lao She had written at this spot, "Facing it, with the city wall at my back, sitting atop a stone and watching the tadpoles on the water and the tender dragonflies atop the reeds, I could happily pass a day, my heart is completely at ease, without demands or fears, like a baby sleeping peacefully in a crib." (both quotes are from p. 289.)

There were students from Beijing Number 4 middle school, that wrote a letter to the mayor asking "If a city does not have its own culture and its own history, what makes it different from any other city? The skyscrappers we build in Beijing are commonplace, while our courtyards and hutong are unique in the world. Why in the name of following a trend, should we destroy this priceless treasure? We do not want to carry the stigma of being known as the people who destroyed Beijing's culture nor the last generation that witnessed its past-- but what can we do? What is in our power is so much less than what you can do." (p. 293)

Meyer had gone to a conference in Berlin as part of the research of this book. He was talking to an ambassador about the city, maintaning the history better than the city of Beijing. His comment had been, "The presenece of Berlin as a city represents and reflects the taste of its residents." Meyer followed up with If that's true, I really feel embarrased because the presence of Beijing thus also reflects the taste of it's residents. (p. 293)

He also brings up the valid point, of how with the idea of China wants to develop into the lifestyle of the western countries. "It's getting harder to protect the environment after China entered the World Trade Organization. The economy is growing so fast, and everyone is trying to get rich in the shortest time. If 1.3 billion want to get rich, just imagine the pressure-- it's enormous upon natural resources. Arable land, forest, grassland, water, all divided between 1.3 billion shares. Chinese want to live the life Americans have. The energy consumption of the U.S. is fourteen time that of the per capata consumption of a Chinese person. America has two hundred sixty million people, and one hundred thirty million cars. Chinese see this, they know this. And they want it. But if China wants to reach that way of life, then we need seven earths to support them. This i the darkest side of China. We want to imitate everything from the West."

He tends to favor the aspect of wanting to maintain old Beijing, which is very much the charm of the city. Saying that I myself have also spent some time in the city (no where near the amount of time that he has spent there), I tend to agree with the argument that he fronts in the book. It's harder to judge overall concepts saying that I went into it knowing that we had similar beliefs on this front.

[WashU Libraries]

Reading about a place is the second-best thing to packing your bags and moving there, and I’ve recently become fascinated with China. The Last Days of Old Beijing by Michael Meyer is one of those wonderful books that combine travel, history, and current events with first-rate reporting and personal anecdotes.

A former Peace Corps volunteer, Michael Meyer chose to return to China and move into an old-style courtyard house in a hutong—a traditional street neighborhood—in central Beijing in the years prior to the 2008 Olympics. The only Westerner in the neighborhood, Meyer uses his reporter’s eye for detail and ability to converse with people from all walks of life to chronicle the gradual destruction of these traditional neighborhoods to make way for modern developments such as high-rise apartments and international franchises like Wal-Mart and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Filled with unique insights not only on China but on the price of modernity, The Last Days of Old Beijing is a fascinating and personal account of how the struggles of people on the other side of the world aren’t that different from our own.

Reviewed by E-Learning Librarian Eliot Boden

[Nora · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5. It’s okay, but not impressive, compared with some other non-fiction I’ve read on the same topic (i.e., traveling in China, preserving history, etc.) In the beginning I thought the author only intended to talk about his own experiences in hutong and his own perspectives. But later on with a few chapters dedicated to the history of Beijing, I realized the book was much more ambitious than I thought, which was fine, except for it did not meet its ambition. The structure was there, the multiple narratives were there, but the writing really wasn’t there. And after reading through the entire book, I can say the issue isn’t in vocabulary, but in the flow. Many times I felt I did want to continue reading this book since the topic was so interesting, while I also sensed that the book itself — due to how the sentences were constructed — was almost preventing me from going on. I want to enjoy and love this book as I enjoy Peter Hessler’s books, but I simply can’t. Well, but the bright side is probably that the author still has much room for growth.

[Matt Nyman · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of those books that is really really excellent for its attention to detail and descriptives. While the author spends a ton of time making a more political / cultural point about historic preservation, the truly interesting part of the book is the exposition of Chinese culture and some light history. The author lived in central Beijing for at least two years and obviously immersed himself in the locale and the environment far more than most foreigners would. And his engagement was with regular people to some extent, not just elite academics and professionals, because he moved into a small poor neighborhood just as before it was gentrified. This book is an outstanding example of making the world a smaller place by making it more mutually intelligible, which ironically is arguably the exact opposite of what the author is trying to say about preserving culture. Totally worth reading.

[Ellen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wasn’t entirely sure I still wanted to read this memoir, given that it’s now a decade old, but - whether or not the hutongs still stand - the book prompts some interesting questions and reflection that are cosmopolitan, despite the Beijing focus here: How does a community handle change? What is government’s role? Who counts as a native?

Three stars because I did learn new information about Beijing culture and history, which made it worth the read. But it is a nostalgic memoir, written by a white foreigner, looking at his adopted community through pretty rose-colored and I’d say one-sided glasses, sometimes forgetting (or ignoring) the significance that he is free to leave at any time.

Structurally, the book jumps around chronologically and between (cherry picked?) factual history and the author’s (cherry picked) personal experience in a way that I didn’t find to be particularly effective. But was written well enough to make it through.

[Natalie · Rating 4 out of 5]

The life in a hutong by an english teacher in China before the olympics in 2008. The daily life, struggles, tribulations of people who want community and stability and communal living, but then the decay and rot does eventually need to be excised and people relocated, and they relocate to sterile apartments with running water and their own space. Hard to blame people choosing that life. Lots of similarities to Russian villages.

The ever-present propaganda about the Olympics and being good citizens is kind of insane.

People truly feel powerless against ‘The Hand’, the faceless government that can do as it pleases to its citizens as individuals because they don’t have an individual voice. Truly terrifying. Doing things for the good of the people, but there must be other ways.