4 1/2 stars.
As I noted repeatedly in my status updates while reading this book, I feel like I don't have enough context to judge it knowledgeably (or even fairly). But I'm going to give it a score based purely on my emotional reaction to it. (Friends who read Chinese, please feel free to argue with me.)
This novel is quite different from other works of contemporary Chinese literature I've read recently: it's a predominantly straightforward realistic narrative, with only very minor touches of comedy, fantasy, and allegory leavening an otherwise rather traditional story. The erotic touches that made the novel so scandalous in China seem very tame to a Western reader (and they're intentionally and rather comically censored by the author anyway) and the episodic character of the narrative, which relates one incident after another in linear time, seems almost naive.
Nonetheless, there's something remarkably compelling here. Through meticulous care in setting and character and by focusing on just a few intellectual celebrities as well as their wives, acolytes and enemies, Jia Pingwa builds a city from top to bottom for the reader. We learn its inner workings: its domestic life, bureaucracy, markets, and criminal underworld. From the lowliest junkman to the local mayor, we watch this city and its denizens gradually grow more amoral and more decadent in a short period of time. While greed and venality play a big part in the downfall of many of the characters in the novel, apathy, emotional ambivalence and even sheer laziness also contribute. Almost no one in this novel is a hero or a villain-they're mostly ordinary people trying to get by with the least possible effort for the greatest possible gain. While the reader may not "like" or sympathize with any of these individuals, it's also very hard to hate or judge them-they are too like people we might know (even people we might be).
On a final note: I was impressed by the portrayal of women and women's everyday lives in this novel. No one in the book is a saint, and the women here are generally just as venal, sensual and self-serving as the men, but Jia Pingwa really seems to understand how hard women work in a fairly traditional and patriarchal society like most of modern-day China. Women here don't just have to keep up appearances at home and with extended family, they're also frequently responsible for maintaining their husband's public face, glossing over social faux-pas, making apologies and amends where necessary, even representing their spouse at court. And they get virtually nothing in return. Perhaps the only genuinely sympathetic character in the entire novel is writer-celebrity Zhuang Zhidie's long-suffering wife, Niu Yuequing. Sometimes rigid, even puritanical (she's quick to call other, less fortunate or less monogamous women, whores), she's endlessly strong and supportive when it's most necessary; while quick to anger, she's also reliable, generous, and always looking to do the right thing at the right time. She's not the tragic heroine that Tang Wan'er proves to be (I'm still shattered and unsettled by her fate), but she's someone I liked and cared about as a reader and her final moments in the book, while very true to life, also seem remarkably unjust.