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Encounters with Chinese Writers
Bizarre encounters between Chinese and American writers
Winner of the New England Book Show Award
It's been a pilgrimage for Annie Dillard: from Tinker Creek to the Galapagos Islands, the high Arctic, the Pacific Northwest, the Amazon Jungle―and now, China. This informative narrative is full of fascinating people: Chinese people, mostly writers, who encounter American writers in various bizarre circumstances in both China and the U.S. There is a toasting scene at a Chinese banquet; a portrait of a bitter, flirtatious diplomat at a dance hall; a formal meeting with Chinese writers; a conversation with an American businessman in a hotel lobby; an evening with long-suffering Chinese intellectuals in their house; a scene in the Beijing foreigners' compound with an excited European journalist; and a scene of unwarranted hilarity at the Beijing Library. In the U.S., there is Allen Ginsberg having a bewildering conversation in Disneyland with a Chinese journalist; there is the lovely and controversial writer Zhang Jie suiting abrupt mood changes to a variety of actions; and there is the fiercely spirited Jiange Zilong singing in a Connecticut dining room, eyes closed. These are real stories told with a warm and lively humor, with a keen eye for paradox, and with fresh insight into the human drama.
Winner of the New England Book Show Award
It's been a pilgrimage for Annie Dillard: from Tinker Creek to the Galapagos Islands, the high Arctic, the Pacific Northwest, the Amazon Jungle―and now, China. This informative narrative is full of fascinating people: Chinese people, mostly writers, who encounter American writers in various bizarre circumstances in both China and the U.S. There is a toasting scene at a Chinese banquet; a portrait of a bitter, flirtatious diplomat at a dance hall; a formal meeting with Chinese writers; a conversation with an American businessman in a hotel lobby; an evening with long-suffering Chinese intellectuals in their house; a scene in the Beijing foreigners' compound with an excited European journalist; and a scene of unwarranted hilarity at the Beijing Library. In the U.S., there is Allen Ginsberg having a bewildering conversation in Disneyland with a Chinese journalist; there is the lovely and controversial writer Zhang Jie suiting abrupt mood changes to a variety of actions; and there is the fiercely spirited Jiange Zilong singing in a Connecticut dining room, eyes closed. These are real stories told with a warm and lively humor, with a keen eye for paradox, and with fresh insight into the human drama.
117 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1984
About the author
Annie Dillard
68 books3,127 followersAnnie Dillard was an American author celebrated for her distinctive narrative voice in both fiction and nonfiction, as well as for her work in poetry, essays, literary criticism, novels, and memoir. She gained wide recognition with Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, a meditative exploration of nature and perception that received the Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction and established her as a major literary figure.
Raised in Pittsburgh, her formative years were marked by wide reading, close observation of the natural world, and a family environment that encouraged curiosity and wit, experiences later reflected in her memoir An American Childhood. She studied English, theology, and creative writing at Hollins College, where her academic engagement with writers such as Henry David Thoreau shaped her intellectual direction.
She taught for more than two decades in the English department at Wesleyan University, influencing generations of students before retiring as Professor Emerita. Her work has been translated widely, adapted into other art forms, and honored with numerous awards, including the National Humanities Medal, affirming her lasting impact on American letters.
Raised in Pittsburgh, her formative years were marked by wide reading, close observation of the natural world, and a family environment that encouraged curiosity and wit, experiences later reflected in her memoir An American Childhood. She studied English, theology, and creative writing at Hollins College, where her academic engagement with writers such as Henry David Thoreau shaped her intellectual direction.
She taught for more than two decades in the English department at Wesleyan University, influencing generations of students before retiring as Professor Emerita. Her work has been translated widely, adapted into other art forms, and honored with numerous awards, including the National Humanities Medal, affirming her lasting impact on American letters.
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews
March 2, 2025
Dillard’s writing tends toward the solipsistic so when she tries to write about people/places/things she’s not familiar with, she looses the depth and complexity that make her work special. Her discussions of china and chinese culture felt very entrenched in a touristic, western perspective, which made a lot of the narrative difficult to stomach. Glad this one was short, wouldn’t have wanted to read a page more of it.
March 17, 2024
An entertaining read, but lacking a lot of the depth I've come to love from Dillard's works. I understand why she decided on a neutral approach to the subject matter -- being, as she mentions at the beginning, not an expert on China -- but the lack of a central point made even her vivid descriptions appear dull.
January 15, 2026
alternate title: 'Close Encounters Of The Chinese Kind'
February 8, 2013
This was perhaps the first China-related book I ever read. It was part of our assigned reading in a creative nonfiction class during my college years -- probably two years before I moved to Beijing, where I ended up living for six years. It's a spare volume containing beautiful observations about culture, writing and society.
December 20, 2021
A snapshot into the period of opening up between China and the United States during the 1980's. Dilliard describes her encounters with warmth and humility, and admits to several moments of bafflement without resorting to moralistic judgements. Her writing is personable and engaging, making this short volume a quick and enlightening read.
July 5, 2016
A tiny little book of essays about a time in 1983 when Dillard and other American writers met with Chinese writers in China and the U.S. A funny little glimpse into a cultural exchange, which briefly includes Allen Ginsberg playing a small accordian-like instrument.
November 29, 2009
A wonderful, interesting look at China, writers, and Communism.
December 5, 2018
A book that proves that all literary artists are weird. And it's a good thing.
September 22, 2022
In 1982, Dillard was part of a 6-member delegation of US scholars, writers and publishers that travelled to Beijing, Xian, Hangzhou, Nanjing and Shanghai in China. Later that year, a small group of Chinese writers would visit the US for a US-Chinese writers conference and Dillard was one of the delegates. In the Introduction, Dillard makes clear that this series of essays does not purport to tell "the truth about China". Rather, these are "some small stories...a collection of moments...[that] yield [she hopes], contradictory impressions."
Dillard's accounts of the exchanges between the Chinese and the Americans are pretty entertaining. To some of the older Chinese who have survived the Cultural Revolution, the Americans are a naive lot. Engaging them is "like talking to young children about what you did in the war. Whatever you did, the memory of which might be quite painful to you, will fortunately never be touched on by the children's little questions, always so innocently wide off the mark." In general, the Chinese do not understand how the Americans can write solely for themselves - rather than to serve society. They also cannot fathom what it means to read purely for pleasure and recreation; in China, books are so rare and so precious, when one reads, it is for scholarship, it is to study.
Dillard recounts how she commits a terrible faux pas. Asked how Chinese textbooks compare with American texts, Dillard thinks about how Chinese middle school textbooks cover more advanced concepts in math and science, but doesn't see complex modern literature being covered in the middle school curriculum. She replies that Chinese education seemed to be stronger in the sciences while US education is stronger in the arts. She is puzzled by the reaction of the Chinese and realises belatedly that she's just conveyed that the US, a young upstart nation, is superior in the arts to "the oldest and most refined civilisation on earth." If her Chinese hosts do not think her clueless, then surely they must conclude that she is being deliberately hostile and malicious.
An entertaining enough read.
Dillard's accounts of the exchanges between the Chinese and the Americans are pretty entertaining. To some of the older Chinese who have survived the Cultural Revolution, the Americans are a naive lot. Engaging them is "like talking to young children about what you did in the war. Whatever you did, the memory of which might be quite painful to you, will fortunately never be touched on by the children's little questions, always so innocently wide off the mark." In general, the Chinese do not understand how the Americans can write solely for themselves - rather than to serve society. They also cannot fathom what it means to read purely for pleasure and recreation; in China, books are so rare and so precious, when one reads, it is for scholarship, it is to study.
Dillard recounts how she commits a terrible faux pas. Asked how Chinese textbooks compare with American texts, Dillard thinks about how Chinese middle school textbooks cover more advanced concepts in math and science, but doesn't see complex modern literature being covered in the middle school curriculum. She replies that Chinese education seemed to be stronger in the sciences while US education is stronger in the arts. She is puzzled by the reaction of the Chinese and realises belatedly that she's just conveyed that the US, a young upstart nation, is superior in the arts to "the oldest and most refined civilisation on earth." If her Chinese hosts do not think her clueless, then surely they must conclude that she is being deliberately hostile and malicious.
An entertaining enough read.
December 18, 2025
a lovely little book of clever and insightful essays. about encounters in 1982.
“now at the meeting, our chinese colleagues have a question for us. … whose fiction should we translate for china? …
the work of china is to irrigate land, control floods, make the rivers navigable, distribute grain, lay railroad track, pave highways, electrify the countryside, get more machines.
in the cities, where incomes are five times those in the country, families are saving industrial coupons for years on end to buy a bicycle, or to buy a sewing machine with which to fashion both clothes and bedding from their cotton allotment of six yards per person per year. the family lives in its one or two cement rooms. the wife washes the twigs and stones from the rationed rice and cooks some cabbage on a shared stove. six days a week the husband and wife put in long hours in their production units; the wife spends two hours a day buying food. …
when we entered this building from the street earlier this morning, we saw a remarkable sight. bent over the building’s stone steps were four women of various ages, wearing head scarves. we walked around them. they were crouching, one to a step. they were scratching dust from crevices between the steps’ stone blocks. to accomplish this task, they were using toothpicks, and moving only their fingers.
our interpreter turned, indicated them with a proud wave, and said, ‘do you know how those women got their jobs?’
no, we didn’t. (was it something they said?)
‘they knew somebody!’ …
some men in the street are working with astonishing concentration at an astonishing task: they are lifting twelve-foot slabs of concrete. each slab is fifteen inches across, four inches thick. the four men raise each slab without breathing; they carry it by bamboo poles on their bare shoulders. several of us americans see these concentrating men lift the concrete; we each let out a private, stricken ‘oh, god.’ there must be forklifts in china, but we never happened to see one.
what novels have we got that will encourage these people not to throw in the towel? horatio alger? the grapes of wrath?”
“now at the meeting, our chinese colleagues have a question for us. … whose fiction should we translate for china? …
the work of china is to irrigate land, control floods, make the rivers navigable, distribute grain, lay railroad track, pave highways, electrify the countryside, get more machines.
in the cities, where incomes are five times those in the country, families are saving industrial coupons for years on end to buy a bicycle, or to buy a sewing machine with which to fashion both clothes and bedding from their cotton allotment of six yards per person per year. the family lives in its one or two cement rooms. the wife washes the twigs and stones from the rationed rice and cooks some cabbage on a shared stove. six days a week the husband and wife put in long hours in their production units; the wife spends two hours a day buying food. …
when we entered this building from the street earlier this morning, we saw a remarkable sight. bent over the building’s stone steps were four women of various ages, wearing head scarves. we walked around them. they were crouching, one to a step. they were scratching dust from crevices between the steps’ stone blocks. to accomplish this task, they were using toothpicks, and moving only their fingers.
our interpreter turned, indicated them with a proud wave, and said, ‘do you know how those women got their jobs?’
no, we didn’t. (was it something they said?)
‘they knew somebody!’ …
some men in the street are working with astonishing concentration at an astonishing task: they are lifting twelve-foot slabs of concrete. each slab is fifteen inches across, four inches thick. the four men raise each slab without breathing; they carry it by bamboo poles on their bare shoulders. several of us americans see these concentrating men lift the concrete; we each let out a private, stricken ‘oh, god.’ there must be forklifts in china, but we never happened to see one.
what novels have we got that will encourage these people not to throw in the towel? horatio alger? the grapes of wrath?”
January 10, 2026
"He is going into my soul with calipers. He is entering my eyes as if they were a mineshaft; he is testing my spirit with a plumb line... He is examining something inside me; he gauges my 'strength' as if he were counting the coils of a loaded spring".
I'm nearly to the end of reading Annie Dillards complete published works and am in awe of the consistency of her craft. I'm also terrified at the very real and impending issue of "having used Dillard all up" and not having any more of her books to have the pleasure of reading for the first time in the near future. But then I can always anticipate "the return." The return to the luminosity she has gifted all those blessed to encounter her. An encounter, or rather, encounters which have more deep fathoms and mystery than the serene and unpretentious surface can tell, similar to the exquisitely rendered encounters in this particular book of hers. There is always something underneath and it's name is life. She doesn't always call it by its name but she gives it leave to introduce itself and astonish all with it's pronunciation.
I'm nearly to the end of reading Annie Dillards complete published works and am in awe of the consistency of her craft. I'm also terrified at the very real and impending issue of "having used Dillard all up" and not having any more of her books to have the pleasure of reading for the first time in the near future. But then I can always anticipate "the return." The return to the luminosity she has gifted all those blessed to encounter her. An encounter, or rather, encounters which have more deep fathoms and mystery than the serene and unpretentious surface can tell, similar to the exquisitely rendered encounters in this particular book of hers. There is always something underneath and it's name is life. She doesn't always call it by its name but she gives it leave to introduce itself and astonish all with it's pronunciation.
August 31, 2026
I appreciate the lack of orientalism/exoticization of the east (which is not in fact any grand feat).
And really i’m hungry for any glimpse of china in the 80s—to know, for instance, that chinese writers think woman warrior is a mash-up, i.e. an inaccurate picture of china.
This reminds me of that Minae Mizumura book which starts off with her grim critical analysis of real live human beings she is at a conference with—ultimately so little to go on, or to write much about, especially since every interchange is filtered through an interpreter (Dillard’s characterizations are more flattering though).
Did love this bit though: “In Los Angeles I talked to a Chinese student living in the United States. He had driven across the country with friends, poking around, and had seen something that reminded him of home: a Western desert Indian reservation. ‘Except for the alcoholism, it was just like China,’ he remembered warmly.”
And really i’m hungry for any glimpse of china in the 80s—to know, for instance, that chinese writers think woman warrior is a mash-up, i.e. an inaccurate picture of china.
This reminds me of that Minae Mizumura book which starts off with her grim critical analysis of real live human beings she is at a conference with—ultimately so little to go on, or to write much about, especially since every interchange is filtered through an interpreter (Dillard’s characterizations are more flattering though).
Did love this bit though: “In Los Angeles I talked to a Chinese student living in the United States. He had driven across the country with friends, poking around, and had seen something that reminded him of home: a Western desert Indian reservation. ‘Except for the alcoholism, it was just like China,’ he remembered warmly.”
May 1, 2024
This is a lovely and quirky little book that I happened across at my local used books bookstore. It made for perfect bedtime reading by flashlight, allowing me and my mind to ponder various intercultural interactions before I nodded off, some suprising, some comic, some awkward, some insightful. Dillard's writing is crisp, masterful, and accessible, as always. Interacting with people from different cultures is one of the great joys and thrills of being a human on this planet.
December 6, 2023
absolutely loved the premise of the book but the writing was such a big hinderance to relaying the cross-cultural understandings annie experienced. the book largely lacked insight -- i know she wanted it to just be observational but it was too surface-level
April 12, 2024
why have i never heard of this before, why was this so .. sweet?
December 25, 2012
As other reviewers have remarked, not her best work, but nonetheless thought provoking and enjoyable. She cautions the reader that she is not an expert on China, which is wise, because many of her experiences provoke the need for conclusions. Since this book is more about her interactions with Chinese literati, the Cultural Revolution (and by extension, Maoism) is essentially the topic of this book. One interesting account follows an Italian-born journalist for Der Spiegal who remarks on how very bad communism is - though he simultaneously advocated for communism in India - simply because of the repression of journalists. He was deported for a critical review of Beijing architecture, though he suspected there were other reasons.
After reading this book, I began to wonder about the current state of free speech in China; it certainly seems better, but from time to time we hear about various acts of repression that remain troubling. This book connects to an earlier time when there was no doubt that individuals were being beaten and imprisoned solely for their views.
After reading this book, I began to wonder about the current state of free speech in China; it certainly seems better, but from time to time we hear about various acts of repression that remain troubling. This book connects to an earlier time when there was no doubt that individuals were being beaten and imprisoned solely for their views.
February 18, 2015
AnnieDillard hung out with some Chinese literary writers. This book is a collection of anecdotes about moments of cultural conflict related to nationalism, filial piety, individualism, communism, perceptions of Americans, and the political functions (and failures) of literature. It's funny and though provoking and short. I liked it.
Quotes:
"In the fall of 1983, the winds will shift again; the Party will launch a new rectification campaign to rid Chinese literature of three evils: humanism, existentialism, and modernism."
"She believes what she is saying. I have no way of knowing what is true; it makes sense to listen carefully to what people say and to look carefully at the people who say it."
Quotes:
"In the fall of 1983, the winds will shift again; the Party will launch a new rectification campaign to rid Chinese literature of three evils: humanism, existentialism, and modernism."
"She believes what she is saying. I have no way of knowing what is true; it makes sense to listen carefully to what people say and to look carefully at the people who say it."
July 30, 2010
I've really enjoyed this author in the past, but this book was a disappointment. Although in her introduction the author acknowledges that the book is not meant to be an in-depth treatment of the subject, its lack of insight was notable enough to make me wonder why she bothered publishing it.
June 28, 2016
This is a short book, relatively narrow in its scope, and it does not have the obvious brilliance of 'Pilgrim at Tinker Creek' or "Holy The Firm.' But I didn't know Annie Dillard could be so straight forward. Delightful.
Want to Read
December 2, 2008I think I've read bits of this... maybe at a bookstore. God bless the comfy chairs at Barnes & Noble.
April 20, 2009
Anything Annie Dillard writes tends to fascinate and challenge me. I'm really glad I stumbled on this book in the back stacks of the library.
December 8, 2009
Short essays in Dillard's inimitable style about travels to China by American authors, Dillard included, and to America by Chinese authors.
January 21, 2011
Quick read, VERY interesting view of Chinese and American writers. A bit dated, I'm sure, since it was published in 1984, but lively and enjoyable.
April 7, 2011
My bias, but I like how she described the Chinese culture without being judgmental.
Very funny and memorable episodes.
Is it me or she seemed to have a crush on a female writer?
Very funny and memorable episodes.
Is it me or she seemed to have a crush on a female writer?
August 9, 2012
Painless learning about China, with illumination of our own culture at a particular point in time. I'm crazy about Dillard's writing and this did not disappoint.
July 14, 2013
Lovely read.
September 18, 2015
I love Annie Dillard's writing, and her perceptions about first, her trip to China in the 1970s, and then the visits of Chinese writers to the USA later was enlightening.
July 3, 2008
thanks Ariane ;)
April 3, 2017
Slim series of sketches about Dillard’s delegation visit to China, and a corresponding visit by a group of Chinese writers back to America, where they visit Disneyland (with a particularly aggravating Alan Ginsberg in tow) and haltingly touch on various cultural pressure points. Generally curious and lucid, although sporadically falls back on stereotypes about the supposed wizened remoteness of the Eastern Scholar, and is otherwise a bit to ready to ascribe cross-cultural static to the utter absurdity of the country’s Maoist political structure.
Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews