Μια ζωή στην Κίνα

Une vie chinoise #1-3

by Li Kunwu (Illustrator), Philippe Ôtié, Αντώνης Μπίκος (Translator)

Παλιά, χωρίζαμε τη μακραίωνη ιστορία της Κίνας σε δυναστείες -μερικές είχαν διάρκεια αιώνων. Στην νεότερη ιστορία όμως, οι δυναστείες συμπυκνώθηκαν σε γενιές, που διαδέχονται η μία την άλλη με ολοένα και πιο γρήγορο ρυθμό.

Το ίδιο ισχύει και για τους πολιτικούς ηγέτες από την εποχή του Μάο Τσε Τουνγκ, του "Μεγάλου Τιμονιέρη", που βρέθηκε στην εξουσία το 1949 και εγκαινίασε την πρώτη γενιά της κομμουνιστικής "δυναστείας". Ο Τενγκ Σιάο Πινγκ ήταν από το 1977 το σημαντικότερο μέλος της ηγετικής γενιάς του ΚΚ Κίνας και πρωτεργάτης οικονομικών μεταρρυθμίσεων, ενώ ο σήμερα ο Χου Ζιντάο αντιπροσωπεύει την τέταρτη γενιά.

Οι άνθρωποι στην κινεζική κοινωνία διαμορφώθηκαν από διαφορετικά είδη παιδείας και από διαφορετικές αντιλήψεις για τον κόσμο, ανάλογα με το έτος της γέννησής τους. Για τον πρωταγωνιστή της ιστορίας μας, που γεννήθηκε στις αρχές της δεκαετίας του 1950, η ζωή του μοιάζει με ανοιχτό βιβλίο ιστορίας: μετά τη μαοϊκή εποχή, που έκλεισε το 1976 με το θάνατο του Μάο, ακολούθησαν τριάντα χρόνια μεγάλων ανατροπών.

Η γενιά αυτή συμμετείχε στα πάντα, στη συλλογική ευτυχία και στις ατομικές απογοητεύσεις, στον ενθουσιασμό αλλά και στην απελπισία. Και έζησε τις αλλαγές της μεταμαοϊκής εποχής, όταν ο Τενγκ Σιάο Πινγκ με το περίφημο "Δε μ’ ενδιαφέρει αν η γάτα είναι μαύρη ή άσπρη, αρκεί να πιάνει ποντίκια" στράφηκε σ’ έναν οικονομικό πραγματισμό.

Η γενιά του πρωταγωνιστή μας είναι σήμερα η "τιμονιέρισσα" που καθοδηγεί την ιστορία της Κίνας.

Genres: Graphic Novels, Comics, China, Nonfiction, History, Memoir, Historical

752 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2012

Reviews

[Anthony · Rating 4 out of 5]

"So yes, of course we are proud of what we've made, even if it's not perfect yet. Especially since it doesn't come from the profits of armed conquest, however legitimate, or from the exploiting of a rich subsoil, or from inherited capital skillfully managed to bear fruit. No - none of these things. You will find nothing but sweat here. From our brows and our children, to whom we bequeath lives that will also will be made of hard work and sacrifice, for we still have a long way to go down the road that will lead us from poverty, the road to development." (690)

Read alone, the closing passage to Li Kunwi's semiautobiographical graphic novel, A Chinese Life, carries an air of pride dusted with an undertone of cross-cultural jabbing, yet presented alongside the artwork of Kunwi portraying himself as an elderly and simple Chinese man, wandering the streets of the rising modern China, this musing is the perfect closing to a rich and beautiful tale of one man's experience through the last 60 years of Chinese history.

Though not perfect as a historical reference - and never intended to stand alone as historical reference - this tale provides an entertaining portrayal of the experiences of common man living through the Chinese struggle to become recognized as a world power in the 2oth and 21st century. Living among the poor village in China's Southwest, Li Kunwu grew up during Mao's revolution of the 1950's, suffered through the disasters of famine that resulted from the poorly managed Great Leap Forward, served in the People's Liberation Army during the expansion of the country's borders, and befriended the social elite during the economic expansion of the 80s-present day.

At times Li's storytelling is humorous, as portrayed by his teenage zealous fervor to promote the party mentality within his village by critiquing restaurant menus for being too bourgeois with high class dinner choices or providing drawings to the illiterate barber to demonstrate the approved and proper haircuts that should be worn by "the people". At times Li's storytelling depicts an unsettling sadness of struggle as his drawings show the emaciated and starving peoples of the famines following the Great Leap Forward. There are memorable moments that depict the cycles of public fervor, such as the melting of ancient relics thought of as "old ways of thinking" in order to promote the country's steel production, or the destruction of thousand year old pagodas to use the wood for cooking and mulch for fertilizer. Li presents these occurrences as expected and part of the Chinese mentality that places unification and development above all in order to promote the movement toward the common good.

No matter what you think of China's history and its current status as a world power this book is successful in depicting the Chinese people for what they are, a people living together through tumultuous and trying times, people afflicted with aspirations and naivete, afflicted with hope and the endurance to continue on and work for something greater for their children. Although this 60 year story largely ignores China's fragile relationship with Taiwan and Tibet and only briefly mentions Tienanmen square, Li acknowledges these weaknesses by openly accepting that this is a story of his life, a single man, and no single man lives through all the history of his entire country (he didn't know anyone affected by Tienanmen and therefore had little to say). Li is upfront about his artistic background as a party propaganda man, and in my reading I was cautious about a slanted tone, but this book is not propaganda, it is utterly honest and human, willing to demonstrate weaknesses and failures alongside triumphs and accomplishments.

[Damon · Rating 4 out of 5]

A sometimes funny, charming biography in graphic form. Nothing major happens, within the context of major events.

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really long and detailed memoir by a leading artist, Li Kunwu, long time proud member of the Chinese Communist Party. Limited, politically, as he is not very critical of serious abuses/atrocities such as Mao's Cultural Revolution and Tianneman Square, the latter which he shrugs off, and the former which he admits was very hard and problematic, and he ignores so many terrible things that were part of it, and overall he adores Mao and China and is a pretty unapologetic patriot who just shrugs and says, well, since my family wasn't affected in terrible ways, you know, we didn't think about it that much, we are stoic, we survived, etc... which makes for a politically limited analysis, obviously, but gives a good glimpse into an every day guy's (and influential cartoonist of a leading newspaper) views. So, given those limitations, we can benefit from a memoir that looks at many decades of struggle for one family, and the struggle with and effects of capitalism and socialism over this time. Pretty impressive. I read a book of oral history, a few novels, and I have seen many films in the past decades that have given us a glimpse into Chinese life, but this was my first graphic memoir/history, and it was pretty compelling. Otie should not actually be listed as the first author as it is not his story, and he did not do the drawing, which is the main engine of the story, though he did help to make the story and dialogue work, and it was he who wanted to help western readers see Chinese history from one Chinese artist's perspective. And there is some critique, as Li does not agree with everything that his Party enforces, and he does not love EVERY leader equally, but still, patriotic pages about Mao proliferate, and it sometimes feels naive to my (Western) eyes and ears... but I thought it was still interesting. I can see why for some readers its limitations might overwhelm anything else, but for me it was still pretty impressive and I learned a lot.

[J. · Rating 2 out of 5]

While the first part of the book is pretty interesting, the last half is sort of a chore to get through--the narrative gets increasingly sporadic and choppy. And the art style is so intense, it makes it hard to read very casually.

But my real problem is with the history presented. I'm sure the author is presenting history as he saw it, but it feels really, really disingenuous. I am far, far from an expert in Chinese history, but having been through grad school, I conversed with quite a few Chinese students visiting America, and I have to say their version of China is drastically different than this author's view. His version of history seems sort of like this version of race relations in America: America spent a few hundred years enslaving Africans and bringing them to America, then another 75 (roughly) systematically disenfranchising them, but then the Civil Rights movement happened, and since then, everything is totally awesome--whites and blacks get along, and all is well. I mean, sure, the general brushstrokes of history are there, but man, that's some seriously glossing over complicated issues. To the point of falsification.

So I can't help but feel that the author is either incredibly naive, or that he's just lying for political purposes. But maybe that's the answer: he's a member of the Communist party, and he works for a newspaper, so given China's rather harsh censorship, maybe I should take this book for what it is: propaganda.

[Bruce · Rating 5 out of 5]

History consists of the lives of many people, and each of us live but one. In A Chinese Life Li Kunwu brings us (with collaborator Philip Otie) the history of Communist China as memoir. It is literally his story, utterly gripping as both contemporary history and narrative, and I can’t extol it too highly.

With one notable exception, Kunwu and Otie lay out the evolution of modern China from a stagnant, near-feudal state to one rising up under a managed economy (read, authoritarian-directed market capitalism). Through the fictionalized eyes of Hsiao (later Lao) Li, are seen southeastern China’s foundations first in communist ideology, idealism, and opportunism (and the catastrophic mismanagement paved by good intentions), through the cult of Mao and the tyranny of the Cultural Revolution, to continuing economic improvement under Deng Xiaoping. The glaring exception to this otherwise apparently even-handed portrayal is the authors’ refusal to take communist China’s brutal suppression of the student-led uprising in 1989 into account. The shorthand visual of that blowback event is the young woman defiantly standing in front of a line of tanks in Tiananmen Square, but the Chinese refer to it as “6/4.”

Here as in the book’s colored-paged prologue, the work is weakest where it breaks the fourth wall. After several pages depicting the co-authors’ struggle to accurately depict this dark side of autocratic rule, here’s what Kunwu chooses to say, set against illustrations of complacent, bourgeois locals enjoying a public park in contemporary, prosperous Kunming (numbers inserted by me).

I know quite well that, internationally, there is a very dark view of 6/4. The terrible images associated with it[1] have left a deep mark on public opinion. I also know that here, in China, those events caused great suffering. Lives were shattered, some even lost. [2] I know all that.

But the truth is, like almost all my countrymen, my mind is occupied with so many other things I find even more important.[3] Partly because all that happened twenty years ago, and I have a habit of putting behind me parts of the past that are liable to make me uncomfortable.[4] Also because I didn’t personally suffer as a result… and partly because I’m convinced that, above all, China needs order and stability to develop. The rest is secondary, in my view.[5]

I know that might seem shocking, especially to Westerners, whose primary discourse is fundamentally different. This isn’t just me taking up some official line on my own.[6] No -- it’s a deeply rooted feeling many Chinese share, I think.[7] A feeling forged in elementary school,[8] where we learned of all the hardships and humiliations our country has had to suffer throughout the 20th Century: invasion, plunder, “unequal treaties,” internal divisions, battles among warlords. A feeling that has only grown stronger as, over the years, I lived history myself: the Cultural Revolution, which I remember so clearly… all my fellow countrymen who, year after year, fled their homeland.[9]

Those who know or can understand our misfortune must also be able to understand my profound desire for order and stability, in which I await our growth and rebirth. That said, everyone’s entitled to an opinion. Some might, for instance, object that human rights come before the need to develop. I’ll leave that debate to the generations to come -- those who won’t have known the indescribable torments we suffered for far too long. [10] (pp. 488-9)

I have quoted this in full to rip the bandage off the only festering sore in the entire work. Consider yourself now inoculated and free to proceed to enjoy the remaining 690 pages, where you will find first-person storytelling taking precedence over direct address to show-and-tell rather than whitewash-and-sidestep China’s remarkable, painful, prideful recent history. (To engage with those who think I doth protest too much, I claim there’s not a single sentence in the above lengthy passage that doesn’t have something glaringly wrong about it – I have marked 10, and hidden my objections under the spoiler box.)

[1] Kunwu trivializes Tiananmen by presenting the problem as a matter of optics, rather than an inherent reminder of the tenuousness of freedom under an authoritarian regime. It’s ironic considering his more objective treatment of the accidental and intentional devastations wrought respectively by Mao and the Gang of Four in the first 25-30 years of China’s revolutionary history.

[2] “Mistakes were made.” But why go into detail or cite examples? These sentences reflect the classic use respectively of passive tense and generalization as distancing mechanisms that preclude acceptance of responsibility, remediation, and reconciliation.

[3] “I’m too busy and distracted to dwell on the past,” is a deeply ironic position for an historian.

[4] Therein lies a key distinction between the historian and the party hack. Grappling with the troubling parts of one’s history facilitates healing and promotes progress free of disfunction.

[5] False dichotomy. Order and stability need not be in opposition to freedom of speech, etc. Social stability can also be encouraged through transparency and the promotion of meaningful civic engagement in law and governance.

[6] In case we were wondering. Is it the official line? If so, perhaps the adoption is not a conscious one? See [8] below.

[7] Self-serving post hoc justification unsupported by evidence. Even if true, it is irrelevant to the question of right and wrong. “All’s well that ends well,” fails to take into account that multiple, different courses of action can nonetheless lead to a similar future. Since circumstances are subject to change, one cannot use the entirety of the present context to judge the propriety of the past. George Clooney’s personal success does not validate the atrocities committed by the Huns.

[8] There’s no brainwashing quite like that received from state-sponsored indoctrination! Resort to an inappropriate authority.

[9] These are reasons that speak in favor of presenting a fact-based depiction of events, not against them.

[10] If not now, when? What would motivate those who have not suffered state violence to change the system? What information would they draw upon to craft an appropriate safeguard or remedy? His inverse straw-person argument is also intended to imply that development should precede human rights rather than the other way around, but as I indicate at [5], it is not a given that the two cannot be undertaken together.

That said, perhaps there’s more than meets the eye to Kunwu’s cowardly omission. At the height of his rationalization, the artist repeats a panel from earlier in the book, an image showing the silhouetted artist in contemplation against the distant backdrop of modern Kunming and mountains. Old Li sits atop a heavily-rooted, almost Banyan-like tree stump, clutching a shard of ancient pottery. This image could be read as repentance given that at its first appearance on page 131, Kunwu is reflecting on his own destructive part in the Cultural Revolution: “Like many others, I try not to look back too often, to let memory tug me down the slope of remorse. But in truth, he who once, with the insouciance of youth, destroyed so many wonders would give so much today to find just a few of those marvelous objects intact, bearers of our history…” Yeah, well, we all have our regrets.

Apart from its conscious avoidance of Tiananmen Square, A Chinese Life lays bare the strengths and weaknesses of autocratic government like no other work I can bring to mind. With the unitary executive that is the Party, the Chinese can muster collective action on a massive scale. Fed up with the foreign exploitation and civil wars that that plagued feudal China, the new government Mao Zedong builds in the wake of WWII makes modernization priority number one. No longer the stagnant, weak also-ran of the Eastern hemisphere, China would make a Great Leap Forward and rival the industrial output of the US and Britain. All that was needed was enough steel.

“Beat the Brits and catch up with the Americans,” that’s the slogan. So with military-style mobilization, the countryside fills with smelting ovens – even down to the least kindergarten – to melt and consolidate all the metals that the Chinese could muster. So many fires to light and keep lit, the Chinese quickly run out of coal. No matter.

Countryside denuded of forests, erosion plays havoc with topsoil. Yet China still has many mouths to feed. What to do? Fertilize, of course. However, absent a functioning chemical industry, China’s only ready source of fertilizer lies in the mortar of ancient buildings. Down go the pagodas, the ancestral temples, the clock towers, all to feed a blighted land. The unanticipated consequences of mass mobilization continue as the desperate drive to restore crop yields swiftly leeches the countryside, first of nutrients, then of insects and rodents, and finally of birds. Now the whole ecosystem collapses. China endures three straight years of famine, an unending series of self-inflicted disasters that could not be extinguished until the Great Leap Forward is finally abandoned.

Autocracy requires fear or fealty, hence the usefulness of Mao Zedong’s cult of personality. The state is highly effective in mustering propaganda to serve its purposes, a circumstance that greatly benefits an artist like Kunwu. It facilitates his belated entry to the Party despite publication of the chequered grand-ancestry that cursed his cadre-level father to a decade of ignominious exile to the Chinese hinterlands at the height of the Cultural Revolution. Always a true believer, party membership grants the author a sense of worth and spares him any further disillusionment with the ultimate wisdom of the powers that be.

But of course Mao was a man, not a god, no matter how his worship was promoted. Each Lunar New Year, the Great Helmsman issued a recorded address that was broadcast nationwide. For the 1976 Lunar New Year, it took the form of a perverse poem (p. 228):

The Question and the Answer of the Bird
The Roc, soaring ninety thousand li,
The blue sky on his back,
His gaze sweeping the ground.
There’s still plenty to eat,
Potatoes piping hot,
We’re adding the beef just now.
No point farting!

Hmmm. Maybe it was better in the original Mandarin? Maybe not. “Lots of us are wondering if he hasn’t lost his marbles!” is the reaction of one comrade (quickly shushed). Yet whether a moment of public clarity or senility, Zedong would be dead within the year. Likewise, the oppressive Cultural Revolution would end shortly after a coup led to the arrest of Mao’s wife (Jiang Qing) and three others for perpetrating the madness. Whether the Gang of Four were scapegoats needed to justify a sea-change in state policy sans apology or legitimately to blame, the impact was immediate and dramatic with loved ones reunited, burgeoning paranoia relaxed, and all of China breathing an enormous sigh of relief. (I’m guessing the Gang bore some legitimate culpability; it takes serious gumption to take on the widow of your holy founder – Jiang Qing could not have been all that beloved.)

Notwithstanding the encouragement and sanction of the state, the transition to a market economy was not without significant internal dissension. Kunwu and Otie illustrate the tension through a series of vox populi vignettes, the most memorable of which I found to be an argument among factory workers at lunchtime. The party had previously promised its constituents an “iron bowl,” guaranteed employment and housing. You went where you were sent, a system which traded productivity and free will for security and stability. The new regime they called the “clay bowl,” and there were presumably many who looked on with more than a little anxiety that they would be left behind.

So the Soviet state collapses, and China survives, and tears down its old buildings, and marches steadily forward with increasing confidence toward an ever-more-prosperous future -- perhaps, with the shadows of Tiananmen Square and the Gang of Four seesawing between ominous portents and useful counterexamples. “We’re proud of what we’ve made,” Kunwu writes at p. 690, “even if it’s not perfect yet. Especially since it doesn’t come from the profits of armed conquest… or the exploiting of a rich subsoil, or from inherited capital skillfully managed.” For Kunwu, I think that’s a naïve, but hard-earned point of view. Irrespective of its ultimate truth, it’s a heck of a story. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

What A Chinese Life does best is to expose that what it means to be a Communist has changed over time. The hyper-conservative, history-negating, and overly-critical and paranoid members of the Chinese Communist Party in the 1950s and 60s is nothing like today’s open-armed, capitalist embracing, Western-admiring CCP of today. On the back sleeve of the book, Li is proudly listed as a CCP member. That certainly explains why he chose merely to display events just as they happened with little commentary of his own. Clearly, this is not a textbook (despite its girth) and shouldn’t be judged as one. While it could have been a masterpiece had it gone deeper and more critically into governmental policies, the fact that Li doesn’t shows the strong-arm the government still has over its people (especially for newspaper writers). While Li does his best to paint as well of a picture of Chinese life that he can, we’ll unfortunately always be left wondering how many other panels of the graphic novel have conveniently been “forgotten” by the author. (continue to full review on Frontier Psychiatrist)

[Val Louis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un témoignage vraiment incroyable, qui a l'air d'être fait avec beaucoup d'honnêté, et surtout aucune recherche de "grossir les faits" pour plaire à notre œil occidental (j'ai vu des commentaires disant qu'il ne se passait pas assez de choses dans le livre compte tenu des événements du siècle... Le but est justement de comprendre ce que ces grands événements qu'on voyait de loin signifiaient à l'échelle du local et du quotidien pour les habitants chinois).

Je ne suis pas une grande lectrice de BDs mais j'ai trouvé les dessins vraiment incroyables et j'étais impressionnée de leur force, compte tenu du fait qu'il n'y a pas toujours énormément de dialogues (surtout dans le 1e tome).

Une découverte incroyable !

[Rêve · Rating 5 out of 5]

" Το αν αποτελούμε ένα τέταρτο του παγκόσμιου πληθυσμού η όχι ήταν τότε εντελώς αδιάφορο, ήμασταν αόρατοι, η γη περιστρεφοταν και χωρίς εμάς, χωρίς τους Κινέζους. Εμάς δεν μας έβλεπες ούτε στα βάθρα των νικητών, ούτε στο Έβερεστ ούτε στο διάστημα. Ουτε έδρα είχαμε στα Ηνωμένα Έθνη και ούτε κανένας λιμός δεν πέρναγε στα δελτία ειδήσεων. Απο αυτή τη χώρα προέρχομαι όχι απο την "made in China", των ουρανοξυστων, των ολυμπιακών αγώνων και της παγκόσμιας έκθεσης...
(...) Υπάρχει μια φράση του Πινγκ που την εκτιμώ πολύ. Είναι απλή κι ωστόσο γεμάτη νόημα 'Η Ανάπτυξη Έχει την Απόλυτη Προτεραιότητα' (...)
Είναι το μοναδικό νόημα που είχε ποτέ η ζωή μου.
Μια απλή κινέζικη ζωή. "

[Isabel · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/5 stars.

This was a really well-written memoir. I don't know much Chinese history at all, but after reading about his experience growing up in China during the '60s and '70s, I want to read more about those time periods. A bit long for a graphic novel, but his illustrations, of which he made a career off of, carry his life story well.

[Daniel Cornwall · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting take on China from the inside. Be prepared for a lot of time jumping.

[Miranda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Amazing artwork. I got lost a bit later on in the story. But I appreciate Li’s love of his country and the perspective that he has.

[Michael Scott · Rating 2 out of 5]

A Chinese Life presents a Chinese perspective on life in China from the 1940s to about 2010. Mr. Li's life is drawn and inked by Philippe Otie. Overall, this is a rather dry book with much information about life under the Maoist regime, but written with a distinct care not to offend (if not to plainly praise) the current powers-that-be.

The book travels through time and space. A remote village, just as the Communists are taking over the country, during the Cultural Revolution and the Great Famine, in the reconstruction from afterwards, and today. A workers' city, through some of the same historical events. The lives of the nouveau riche, but of course of correct origins (manual laborers, hard workers) and with correct intentions (to make the Chinese people well represented in the international spectrum of nations). Such stuff.

What I liked perhaps the most was the unmistakable discourse of the Maoist regime, from the official call-to-arms (literally, or regarding picking potatoes from the fields, reducing the number of flies by swatting, etc.) to the smallest coo of a political acolyte (Romanian "politruc") and to the confused implementation in the field (the image of hoards of know-it-all school children terrorizing ideologically a small backwardish city is hilarious and horrifying at the same time).

[Ardea Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Title / Author / Publication Date: A Chinese Life/Philippe Otie/2012

Genre: Non-Fiction

Format: Paperback

Plot summary: A Chinese Life is an astonishing graphic novel set against the backdrop of the creation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949. This distinctively drawn work chronicles the rise and reign of Chairman Mao Zedong, and his sweeping, often cataclysmic vision for the most populated country on the planet.
Though the storyline is epic, the storytelling is intimate, reflecting the real life of the book’s artist. Li Kunwu spent more than 30 years as a state artist for the Communist Party. He saw firsthand what was happening to his family, his neighbors, and his homeland during this extraordinary time. Working with Philippe Ôtié, the artist has created a memoir of self and state, a rich, very human account of a major historical moment with contemporary consequences. Mao said, “The masses are the real heroes,” but A Chinese Life shows those masses as real people.

Considerations or precautions for readers advisory: Issues of starvation, political oppression, and death.

Review citation: Smart, James. (2012). A Chinese Life. [Book Review]. The Guardian.

Section source used to find the material: Top 10 graphic novels Booklist, March 1, 2013
http://www.booklistonline.com/Top-10-...

Recommended age: 14 and up

[Douwe · Rating 5 out of 5]

After visiting and ordering at multiple physical and online bookshops I think this book is not being produced/sold anymore. I am very eager to read it so I ordered it second hand (way too expensive) from Amazon US. I am now waiting for the book to arrive by the end of the month. Looking forward.

It was worth the effort to get the book. I find the story very interesting as I am trying to learn more about Chinese history. The drawings help in setting the scène for the story.

The book shows and tells you about the revolutions in China through the eyes of a normal Chinese boy from the countryside.

It is great to see the art and artist evolving through the books. There is no opinion nor reflection in the book from the writer which is on the one hand strong but also leaves me with curiousity about his thoughts and feelings since the writer changed perspective and even moved from China.

Would recommend the book. Also if you are new to graphic novels.

[Jeff · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a chore. I wanted to really like this book. It’s a graphic novel memoir, a “worm’s eye view” of China from the Cultural Revolution to 2010. It is illustrated with striking, intense black and white illustrations. In ways, it reminds me of Maus.

However, it is nowhere near the quality of Maus. It’s 690 pages of choppy dialogue and surface-level narrative. I learned a few facts about the Cultural Revolution, but I don’t feel like I got to know any of the characters or had any kind of emotional attachment. This alienated feeling increased the further I got into the book. I admit I did some heavy skimming in the last 100 pages.

[Jenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dense and informative and rather draining to read. But wonderfully depicted.

Some of the panel layouts and speech bubbles were a bit difficult to follow, as the bubbles rarely were attached, or near to the actually people speaking, so you sort of had to follow the flow and assume you knew who was speaking. And then, there were the scenes where there's situational conversation that creates the atmosphere, and I kept on thinking the main characters were buried in there, somewhere.

But an amazingly in-depth journey through the history of modern China and its evolution.

[Storyteller John Weaver · Rating 4 out of 5]

Li Kunwu's account of growing up and participating in China's cultural revolution is both revealing and confusing. It's an insider's account, showing first-hand many of the horrors Li encountered, and it almost entirely eschews analysis or personal opinion. It's left to the reader to react to what went on during the early years of the revolution, and to marvel at the dramatic changes since.

[Ernest · Rating 3 out of 5]

A graphic novel that tells the story of the modern China through the eyes and experiences of the author who is an artist. What's interesting is how much progress that country has went through, and the contrast of the different generations that has gone through in such a short period of time.

[Ariana · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book for my 24 hours project. I thought it would very interesting, which it was, but it was also really confusing. It is about a boys life in China during the revolution. I would recommend this to readers who have a background about China during the revolution.

[C · Rating 5 out of 5]

I stumbled across this in the history section while shelving books for a display and was surprised it wasn't in a graphic novel display downstairs. So I took it home instead.

It was excellent, though I will say around the last 1/3 of the book it gets a little disorienting as he skips forward then back in time again.

The book grants a perspective of China throughout the last 60 or so years, through the account of Communist artist Li Kunwu's life in China beginning shortly after WWII and throughout "The Great Leap Forward," Chairman Mao's reign and death and the re-opening of China to the world and modern day China 2010. Li Kunwu supplies the art for the novel, and Philippe has helped arrange the story.

Overall, I don't have much to say on the accuracy/inaccuracy of what is written - so you'll have to forgive me my ignorance if you know more & see glaring inconsistencies and injustices in the book. What I read between the lines in much of the relation about his childhood & The Great Leap Forward, was a conflicted sense of loyalty and irony.

For example, even though I feel the grief expressed over Mao's death was sincere, he is conflicted about it: "i immersed myself in your words and proclaimed them with pride. i have drawn and painted your face so many times. what have you done to me? to us? The strange feeling i nurtured for you cannot be described, so complex, so contradictory, is it, going back to my first breath and shaped through all the years of my childhood..."

The expression seems to be similar to that of someone raised strictly within a religion - love, loyalty, bitterness, abandonment, questioning, and back around again.

Also, it seems that given his membership in The Party and his career choice, even a slightly critical expression seems risky, if not deadly. The book was published outside of China and written by a French man, and left ambiguous as to how much of it is "really true." That seems to be a protective measure, but perhaps I'm reading more into it than I should.

It does not surprise me that Tiananmen Square was uncomfortably avoided until it had to be addressed, and then still more uncomfortably addressed. What could one in his position say? "Yes, I think it was horrible, but..."? His practical take on it seems like walking a carefully drawn line. IF there is a more conflicting opinion, it is closely held. He is not acting as a spokesperson for anyone but his own experience and he states at some point, in telling someone else's story, that a private life is a happy life.

What he does say:

i know quite well that, internationally, there is a very dark view of 6/4. the terrible images associated with it have left a deep mark on public opinion. i also know that here, in China, those events caused great suffering. lives were shattered, some even lost. i know all that.

but the truth is, like almost all my countrymen, my mind is occupied with so many other things i find even more important.

partly because all that happened twenty years ago, and i have a habit of putting behind me parts of the past that are liable to make me uncomfortable. also because i didn't personally suffer as a result.

...and partly because i'm convinced that above all, china needs order and stability to develop. the rest is secondary, in my view.

i know that might seem shocking, especially to westerners, whose primary discourse is fundamentally different. this isn't just me taking up some official line on my own. no - it's a deeply rooted feeling many chinese share, i think. a feeling forged in elementary school, where we learned of all the hardships and humiliations our country has had to suffer throughout the 20th century: invasion, plunder, "unequal treaties", internal divisions, battles among warlords. a feeling that has only grown stronger as, over the years, i lived history myself: the cultural revolution, which i remember so clearly...the opposing movements, struggles, drought, famine, electricity shortages, penury...all my fellow countrymen who, year after year, fled their homeland.

those who know or can understand our misfortune must also be able to understand my profound desire for order and stability, in which i await our growth and rebirth.

that said, everyone's entitled to an opinion. some might, for instance, object that human rights come before the need to develop. i'll leave that debate to the generations to come - those who won't have known the indescribable torments we suffered for far too long."


Overall, I felt it was a great book. It gave me insight into someone else's life experience and passion, whether or not I "get it." There was much in it that moved me, particularly the national movement during the Great Leap Forward... awe inspiring and horrible. Kill every mosquito, kill rats, kill sparrows... smelt everything metal, cut off your hair for fertilizer... it is amazing how pressure and motivation towards what people thought was the right thing to do to support their country could go so horribly wrong. It reminded me of the British saying during the Blitz of "do your part" and how powerful that ultimately was.

The famine...

The destruction of so much of China's history during that time period...


The closing words of the book were moving, and again make the proclamation that this is one man's experience of his country.


"
how long ago it seems now, that time when my father made me pronounce my first revolutionary words, when he carried me on his broad shoulders and marched in a parade to the glory of china. when my mother would carry me, caught up in a non-stop flood of bicycles, down streets no car had ever driven.

that china - how well i knew and loved it. like proust, with his madeleine, i feel nostalgia and hold it tight against my heart.

but heavens, how unhappiness abounded in that china!

whether or not we make up a quarter of the world's population made no difference then. it was like we weren't there. everything in the world happened without us. no chinese people anywhere. neither on podiums, nor on everest, nor in space.

we'd only just got that hard won seat at the u.n.., and any headlines we made in the world news were for our occasional famines.

that's not the country i come from. not the land of "made in china", skyscrapers, the olympic games and the world expo.

so yes, of course we're proud of what we've made, even if it's not perfect yet.

especially since it doesn't come from the profits of armed conquest, however legitimate, or from the exploiting of a rich subsoil. or from inherited capital skilfully managed to bear fruit. no - none of these things.

you will find nothing but sweat here. from our brows and our children, to whom we bequeath lives that will also be made of hard work and sacrifice, for we still have a long way to go down the road that will lead us from poverty, the road to development.

there's a quote from deng xiaoping that i like better than all the rest. so simple, yet so heavy with meaning: "development is our first priority."

the older i get, the better i understand its deeper meaning. the only meaning my life was ever granted in the end.

a simple chinese life.

this chinese life is also yours, dear parents, friends, comrades, who have shared my life and inspired this work. i will always be with you."



My overall impression I walked away with: With my very limited understanding, I can see a little bit of why the country is in such a flux & at the same time, see what an incredible power it is when united and motivated and driven. It is no surprise to me that the real "great leap forward" is actually happening now, within the last decade. China is incredibly powerful in its ambition.

[Jenni · Rating 5 out of 5]

A tome of a graphic novel, A Chinese Life is a memoir about Li Kunwu growing up in China through the Cultural Revolution, becoming a soldier and a propaganda illustrator, and eventually landing in a modern China of the 2010s as a journalist and illustrator.

The story often gets meta, as the modern day Li struggles with how to portray a Chinese life, particularly to Western audiences, whose understanding of China is so different from his own. A good example of this is the events on the Tiananmen Square: the Western world saw it on TV, when a tank rolled over a young man, but the event barely even registered for Li because there were so many other things going on that the West may not have heard about. But he has to address Tiananmen Square somehow, despite him only having heard about it later. So, how do you reconcile the expectations of your audience while staying true to your own experiences in a memoir?

In the end, Li paints a painful, but what I believe to be true account of how life was (and is?) in China for the common person. He lived through famine while seeing others starve; with shame he writes about how as a kid still in school he and his friends went around denouncing people in the village because he believed it was the right thing to do under Mao, as was destroying art and artifacts that he now dearly misses. Li tries to explain how torn he is: all those things in his past (in China's past) were horrendous, yet he still feels oddly nostalgic about it, simply because it was his life. He cannot, nor does he want to, fully condemn nor fully celebrate the world he lives in. And this is what makes his story so interesting - the push-and-pull of loyalties, the changing values in his life and the lives of those around him, and how he accepts that life and one's relationship with their home country and family and community is complicated.

Although I'm not completely in the dark when it comes to Chinese culture and history, this graphic novel sparked my interest toward various events I know fairly little about beyond just textbook descriptions of political events. Eyewitness accounts like Li's help understand the reality that people had to live in.

[Leonidas Vergos · Rating 4 out of 5]

Μια συγκλονιστική αυτοβιογραφική εξέταση της ζωής ενός κινέζου σκιτσογράφου/μετέπειτα κομίστα, η οποία βαίνει παράλληλα με την ιστορική εξέταση της 60χρονης πορείας της Κίνας από τη νίκη της Επανάστασης μέχρι, συμβολικά ως προς τη νέα της πορεία, τη διοργάνωση των Ολυμπιακών Αγώνων στο Πεκίνο.

Ταυτόχρονα μια μαρτυρία των σημαντικών σταθμών της κινεζικής πολιτικής Ιστορίας του 20ού αι. (Μεγάλο Άλμα προς τα Εμπρός, Μεταρρύθμιση και, κυρίως, Πολιτιστική Επανάσταση), το έργο χαρακτηρίζεται από την προσπάθεια του δημιουργού για μια βιωματική μα ουδέτερη πολιτικά παρουσίαση των γεγονότων: ο αναγνώστης παρακολουθεί την καθημερινότητα των ανθρώπων κατά τα αναφερθέντα γεγονότα-σταθμούς για ολόκληρο τον κόσμο, βλέποντας τη δράση μπροστά του να καθορίζεται από έναν πρωταγωνιστή/νεαρό καλλιτέχνη και μέλος του κόμματος, ένθερμο υποστηρικτή της επανάστασης και του μαρξισμού-λενινισμού ("Είναι δίκαιο να εξεγείρεσαι!"), η οποία όμως επισκιάζεται από τη μελαγχολική για το τότε σύγχρονη ματιά του καλλιτέχνη/αφηγητή της ιστορίας. Εντέλει η προσπάθεια για μια "απολίτικη" ματιά του καλλιτέχνη καταρρέει, όταν ο ίδιος, όπως ομολογεί προς υπεράσπιση του καθεστώτος της "Μεταρρύθμισης" του Τενγκ Σιάοπινγκ, επιλέγει να μη διηγηθεί τίποτα για τη σφαγή των εξεγερμένων από το καθεστώς του τελευταίου στην πλατεία Τιενανμέν το 1989. "Μόνο με τάξη θα μπορέσει η πατρίδα μας να οδηγηθεί προς την ανάπτυξη" είναι αυτό που γλυκόπικρα γράφεται στη θέση μιας αφήγησης του γεγονότος, καθώς άθελά του ο δημιουργός παρουσιάζει και πώς η Κίνα έφτασε να είναι η καπιταλιστική υπερδύναμη του σήμερα.

Ένα κόμικ που εντέλει αποτελεί επίτευγμα για το μέσο. Που θα συναντήσει ενστάσεις από την πλειοψηφία των αναγνωστών ανεξαρτήτως ιδεολογικοπολιτικού φάσματος και που είναι, πάνω απ' όλα, μια μοναδική εμπειρία κι ένα ιδιαίτερα ευχάριστο ανάγνωσμα. Θα εκτιμηθεί ιδιαίτερα από τους λάτρεις της νεότερης Ιστορίας, της λογοτεχνικής μαρτυρίας, τους ενδιαφερόμενους για την Ιστορία του κομμουνιστικού κινήματος αλλά κι όσους αγαπάνε τα κόμιξ με μια πολιτική (;) χροιά.

"Μη φοβάστε την αναταραχή...
Κοιτάμε προς την Ανατολή!"

[Ben Truong · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Chinese Life is a graphic novel co-written by Li Kunwu and Philippe Ôtié, illustrated by Li Kunwu, and translated from the French by Edward Gauvin and collects all three volumes of the series. It is an autobiographical memoir of Kunwu's life during the Cultural Revolution in China.

Li Kunwu is a Chinese cartoonist who created graphic novels published in France.

The graphic novel is a very large autobiography telling the story of both Li and the People's Republic of China in the post-war period and beyond. It is an extensive graphic novel that serves as a powerful and surprising testament to the endurance, struggles, achievements, and troubles of Li, his family, and his neighbors.

Li is and always has been a loyal communist, and goes into details how he saw the world and communism at different stages in his life. He also discusses the various challenges and troubles experienced during his lifetime, ready to honestly express both support and criticism for various moments linked to the politics in his personal history.

A Chinese Life is written and constructed rather well. Li's artwork is quite stylized done almost entirely in black and white. The contrast is stark and the composition is striking with energetic lines that reveal austere landscapes, earthy villages, and chaotic cities.

All in all, A Chinese Life is an ambitious and in-depth autobiographical graphic novel about a man and his life in China through the Cultural Revolution.

[trijnewijn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wat een werk. Ik kan me niet voorstellen hoeveel uren tijd hierin kropen en hoe moeilijk het moet geweest zijn om zoveel te bevatten in één boek. Ondanks de lijvigheid van het boek was het goed om te beseffen dat het onmogelijk alles kan belichten of uitleggen. Soms voelde het bijna als propaganda, maar zoals ze zelf terecht opmerken, van midden erin, in een relatief geprivilegieerde positie, ziet alles er anders uit dan van op een afstand. En voor elke witte mens is de “even ter herinnering” op het einde heel terecht. Wat er ook aan te merken is op China, de gemaakte fouten zijn niet groter dan de wereldwijde uitbuiting die vermomd werd als “beschaving brengen naar de rest van de wereld”…

“So yes, of course we’re proud of what we’ve made, even if it’s not perfect yet.
Especially since it doesn’t come from the profits of armed conflict, however legitimate. Or from the exploiting of a rich subsoil or from inherited capital skilfully managed to bear fruit. No… none of these things.
You will find nothing but sweat here. From our brows and from our children, to whom we bequeath lives that will also be made of hard work and sacrifice, for we still have a long way to go down the road that will lead us from poverty, the road of development.”

[Francis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Composé de trois tomes en un, Une vie chinoise: version intégrale relate le parcours de Li Kunwu, journaliste et caricaturiste chinois, de son enfance à la réalisation de ce projet avec le Français P. Ôtié. À travers quelque 750 pages, le lecteur assiste à la transformation de la Chine traditionnelle et miséreuse à une Chine socialiste, axé sur le développement et le progrès.
L'Histoire de la Chine y est dépeinte sans jugement de valeur, seulement que par les faits d'un simple Chinois (comme l'illustrateur et auteur le proclame), ce qui nous donne tout l'espace pour réfléchir au progrès de ce pays se proclamant nettement en retard du monde. Les illustrations, en noir et blanc, ne mettent pas en valeur, sauf à certaines occasions, les personnages, comme si on voulait les garder neutre pour laisser toute la place à l'histoire. Et, au final, l'on atteint son but: par la vie d'un seul Chinois, l'on voit à peu près celle de plusieurs autres confrontés aux aléas du temps et des changements, s'adaptant sans cesse pour correspondre à la mentalité de l'époque.
Un très bon concept, qui mérite effectivement sa place dans les meilleurs bandes dessinées à lire!

[AJ Payne · Rating 3 out of 5]

A really interesting autobiography in graphic form of a man who has lived through the major events in China over the past 60+ years. He depicted his childhood and adolescence in the Great Leap Forward and the cultural revolution, through his adulthood as China modernized and became what it is today. It doesn't provide a commentary on those events other than depicting them through his own life. It's definitely not critical of China in any way, and it isn't overly supportive, just generally neutral (though as a CCP member, he's probably more positive and forgiving than is necessary).

It's three rather than four stars for me because the second half - or perhaps more like the last 1/3 - of the book was very chaotic and I had a hard time following all the threads of the story. The author becomes much less of a primary character as the book goes on, which was a bit strange.

It was enjoyable to see China's history playing out in the background of one person's life, and I liked the art style though there was a TON to look at on every page.

[Sarah AK · Rating 4 out of 5]

This one is hard to rate. At 700 pages, it is a BEAST of a book, divided into 10 chapters spread across three "books" (within the larger book). I really enjoyed the first two of these "books," which highlighted the Cultural Revolution and its aftermath, but things fell apart for me in the third act. I honestly couldn't tell you what I was reading, who was being featured, or even when it was all taking place (the book hops all over the timeline, sometimes without warning). It was confusing, messy, and completely fell off the rails for me. It's a shame too, because I was pretty taken with the story before that point. The art can be chaotic and hard to read, but I also LOVED it. Just staggering! The amount of time and energy that must have gone into creating this leaves me completely awestruck. It is an impressive feat, but I was nonetheless left disoriented and a bit disappointed by the end of it.

[Robert Day · Rating 4 out of 5]

A nice story, if a little confusing at times. Lots of characters and all with different stories but the text grasshoppered between them too quickly for me to keep track. Still, the central voice: that of the author, was clear and the graphic representation of him was consistent. Putting a distinctive hat on his head certainly helped.

Life in China seemed to have been hard at times but (I think) the message here is that it was worth it in the end because China transformed from a 'backward'l, feadalistic country to one that is modern and forward-facing. Not sure the millions that starved to death in the process would have agreed, but it certainty makes sense from the point of view of a survivor.

The graphics are entertaining, the message dodgy and the book well-meant so read it if you're interested in the subject matter. I wish the Chinese well. Mostly.

[Evan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very thick book, but moves relatively well if one reads it in doses/chapters. I thought the story was engaging and very informative about how China was before it became much more modern, and it seems incredible how fast it changed based on how events unfolded in the book. Though probably not surprising given its length, it did slow down quite a bit in the last few chapters.

There were also a decent amount of times where I had trouble following how the story flowed from one panel to the next. It was as if the authors felt that the gaps in the story could easily be filled with one's imagination, but I didn't find that to be the case. The art style may also be a challenge for some as it could get a little too busy or vague at points.

Overall definitely worth a read but be ready to spend some time with it.

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

A memoir of growing up in Mao's China, and adulthood from Deng Xiaopeng's China to today. The memoir reminds me of Soviet Daughter, in that it's about a person who lived through revolutionary upheaval, and eventually thrived. The last part which covers China's boom times kind of drags, maybe because making a lot of money is less fun and interesting to me than revolutionary socialist constructing, or maybe it was because the revolution had gone on without Kunwu, or perhaps because Kunwu feels limited in the commentary he can make on contemporary politics. A Chinese Life is also interesting because it provides the little guy's perspective & also the Chinese Communist Party's perspective of the disasters and successes of communist China.