Yu Hua (simplified Chinese: 余华; traditional Chinese: 余華; pinyin: Yú Huá) is a Chinese author, born April 3, 1960 in Hangzhou, Zhejiang province. He practiced dentistry for five years and later turned to fiction writing in 1983 because he didn't like "looking into people’s mouths the whole day." Writing allowed him to be more creative and flexible.[citation needed] He grew up during the Cultural Revolution and many of his stories and novels are marked by this experience. One of the distinctive characteristics of his work is his penchant for detailed descriptions of brutal violence.
Yu Hua has written four novels, six collections of stories, and three collections of essays. His most important novels are Chronicle of a Blood Merchant and To Live. The latter novel was adapted for film by Zhang Yimou. Because the film was banned in China, it instantly made the novel a bestseller and Yu Hua a worldwide celebrity. His novels have been translated into English, French, German, Italian, Dutch, Persian, Polish, Spanish, Swedish, Hungarian, Serbian, Hebrew, Japanese, Korean, Malayalam and Turkish.
Niezwykle rozbudowana i zawiła książka. Pod względem literackim ma w sobie coś intrygującego, ponieważ czułam, że cała historia wręcz mnie przesiąka, a wcale nie byłam fanką fabuły. Ciekawe doświadczenie czytelnicze, na pewno jeśli chodzi o literaturę chińską jest to pozytywne zaskoczenie.
Che dire, io ho amato questo romanzo dall’inizio alla fine. È avvincente, pieno di storia e di sentimento. Questo romanzo offre uno spaccato degli inizi del Novecento in Cina, che guarda sì alla modernità, ma si sofferma sopratutto sulla vita dei centri rurali lontano dalle grandi città. Il periodo crudo e cupo delle lotte intestine e del feroce e disumano brigantaggio, viene accostato alla vita tranquilla e pacifica dei villaggi e delle piccole città, dove tutti si conoscono e tutti si sorridono per strada. La storia si incentra sul viaggio intrapreso dal protagonista con la sua bambina per amore, un viaggio volto a ritrovare una sposa e una madre, e abbraccia nel frattempo tutte le sfumature di cui l’animo umano si può colorare affrontando gioie e difficoltà. È una storia che parla della vita, del suo procedere inesorabile a prescindere dalle nostre scelte, è una storia che parla dei rapporti umani, di quanto possono essere duri e allo stesso tempo fragili, di come l’amore ci spinge oltre i nostri limiti. Nel corso del racconto, intorno al protagonista si srotolano le vicende di tutti quelli che incontra e con cui stringe rapporti, ognuno con la propria storia, ognuno al centro della propria vita. Il racconto, caratterizzato da una scrittura realista e profondamente descrittiva, trasporta il lettore in ogni ambientazione come se la stesse vivendo leggendola. Mi sono arrabbiata leggendolo, poi ho pianto, mi sono ritrovata a sorridere, e poi a provare sgomento. Questa è una delle più grandi caratteristiche di Yu Hua, che io personalmente ho amato da sempre in tutte le sue opere: il saper raccontare con estrema sincerità la realtà, anche quando è cruda e fa soffrire, ma riuscendo comunque a farci commuovere davanti a questa durezza, mostrandoci la bellezza che alberga ovunque se si sa guardare con attenzione. Vi consiglio dal profondo del cuore di leggerlo, e di darvi la possibilità di rivivere una storia che sembra tanto lontana da noi, ma che alla fine potrebbe essere la storia di chiunque, a prescindere dal tempo e dallo spazio. - What can I say, I loved this novel from start to finish. It's gripping, full of history and feeling. This novel offers a glimpse of the beginning of the twentieth century in China, which indeed looks to modernity, but focuses above all on the life of rural centers far from the big cities. The crude and dark period of internal strife and ferocious and inhuman brigandage is compared to the quiet and peaceful life of villages and small towns, where everyone knows each other and everyone smiles at each other in the street. The story focuses on the journey undertaken by the protagonist with his little girl for love, a journey aimed at finding a wife and a mother, and in the meantime embraces all the nuances that the human soul can be colored by when facing joys and difficulties. It is a story that talks about life, its inexorable progress regardless of our choices, it is a story that talks about human relationships, how hard and at the same time fragile they can be, how love pushes us beyond our limits. Over the course of the story, the stories of everyone he meets and with whom he forms relationships unfold around the protagonist, each with their own story, each at the center of their own life. The story, characterized by realistic and deeply descriptive writing, transports the reader to each setting as if he were experiencing it by reading it. I got angry reading it, then I cried, I found myself smiling, and then feeling dismayed. This is one of the greatest characteristics of Yu Hua, which I personally have always loved in all his works: knowing how to tell reality with extreme sincerity, even when it is raw and painful, but still managing to make us move in front of this hardness, showing us the beauty that dwells everywhere if you know how to look carefully. I recommend you from the bottom of my heart to read it, and to give yourself the chance to relive a story that seems so far away from us, but which in the end could be anyone's story, regardless of time and space.
《活着》好像是余华偶然的成功作,《文城》虽然讲述的是差不多时代的另一系列故事,但其内容没有思想,没有分量。《活着》看完像是一块石头落在心上,慢慢被时间冲击才得以消化,是一部耐人回味的好作品。《文成》像是吹起一把散沙的微风,书合了风也就散了,没有分量,没有痕迹,也没有任何打动人的地方。无厘头的故事,最后还带个越描越黑的后序,无用地形容一个无关紧要人物还有她无关紧要的经历。很多时候总觉得故事要到转折点,事情头绪总是被故事情形的转变草草了解或拿出一笔钱财来化解,情节的悬念也一笔勾销了。我可能不会再看余华的其他作品,让一本好书成为一本好书,不与作者有关联罢了。 HuoZhe seems to be an accidental success of YuHua. Even though this book, WenCheng, seems to be another story set during a similar time, the narrative lacked thought and substance. The story of HuoZhe rests on your mind like a stone, the lapping of time is the only thing slowly eroding and digesting the story. WenCheng is like a breeze that stirs up a handful of sand. The puff of wind dissipates when you close the book, leaving no trace or impression, and evokes no thoughts or feelings. The story is absurd, and part two is a weird addendum telling the inconsequential side of the story from the perspective of an inconsequential character. A lot of times in the story you feel the tension build up, only to be relieved by a set of serendipitous circumstances or solved with money, dissolving any sense of plot consequence. I'm probably never going to read another book by YuHua. Let HuoZhe remain a good standalone work in my mind, without any association to the author or tainted by his other writing.
How to condense such a thick book into this one review? As thick as this book is, I was very invested in the story, on these endearing characters in a city of fiction. A city called Xizhen, amidst the harrowing attacks from bandits, wars and rebellions, this city stands on its ground with their citizens. Yu Hua crafted a sweeping tale of a man, oprhaned since small, with a penchant for woodworking. Lin Xiangfu was a rich young master, respected in his hometown and worked to help and retain his wealth by harvest & invest in golds. Matchmakers tried to find a partner for him to continue the household's legacy but a missed opportunity for an engagement with a beautiful noble lady, there came an unexpected visit from a pair of brother & sister, Aqiang & XiaoMei. Aqiang went away to find their parents and Xiaomei ended up living in Lin Xiangfu's house & soon married him bearin his child. When one day, Xiaomei disappeared for the 2nd time leaving the young baby girl & her husband, Xiangfu determined to find the woman he loved. Thus, he sets off in a journey moving from one town to another, finally arriving at Xizhen and stayed for more than ten years building his life with his daughter, Lin Baijia
This is a story of perseverance, on love & loss, there were dark humors and sort of classical tales narrative to it as we are mostly reading on the events that happened revolving Lin Xiangfu and this city Xizhen. With epic, sweeping tale of the adventure, plights, suffering and hilarious tales of their situation, it was both enjoyable and devastating at times. I was caught up in the violence of the hostages scenes as the tortures were very brutal but this was written in such dark humor way, you are unable to decipher whether to laugh on absurdity or saddened by the tragedy. Rather than character driven, this story is more of plot driven as we see the evolved ways of relationship & trust formed between Lin Xiangfu & Chen Yongliang then Gu Yimin as the governor of the city. The second half focused on POV from Xiaomei herself & what drove her to go the way she did
As much I was engrossed in this story, there were things that I found very distressing particularly on the scenes of prostitutes being ravaged by the group of armies & how their bodies were treated like a place for lust & satisfaction till they were barely alive. The one on the young boys with weird fetish for doing it with up to 4 women at the same time turned me off & I wonder whats the purpose of putting them into a story, only for the fact to shock the readers.
A breathtaking book about rural China at the turn of the 20th century, which offers a peak into how life was back then. The beautiful yet simplistic writing style reflects the livelihood of the characters, who are gouverned by tradition, custom, religion and hard work, as well as by love and devotion. I really enjoyed the story, and the ending was beautiful as it tied everything together.
Still, I do wonder why the book describes at length woodworking customs and other habits, while food and cooking are only scarcely mentioned? The names of various dishes are but briefly mentioned in passing, before the characters quickly gulp them down and move on. On the contrary, the book “Pachinko” by Min Jin Lee, (which to me is similar to “City of fiction” as it also follows a family from the beginning of the 20th of century and across many decades - albeit it takes place in Korea and Japan) describes at length how the women prepare food - why is it not the case here? Of course, this could be due to a different attitude in Korean and Chinese cultures towards the ritual of preparing food and eating (which, as a lowly European, I am not schooled enough about). But I can’t help but wonder - as this book is written by a man, and the other by a woman - is this not a case of patriarchal bias from Yu Hua’s side? Is that not why he spends so many words on “manly” customs such as woodworking, and only a few on the tasks that were back then reserved for women?
3.5 Lin Xiangfu is a highly skilled and respected woodworker living alone in northern China, grieving his mother's death when a couple arrive at his door - Aqiang and Xiaomei, who claim to be siblings and ask for shelter during their travels. Soon, Aqiang leaves and Xiaomei remains with Lin Xiangfu, eventually bearing him a child before disappearing.
We follow Lin Xiangfu as he travels and settles in southern China where he believes Xiaomei is from, travelling with his infant daughter and settling in, searching for the child's mother while running his woodworking business.
I found the premise really interesting, and the translation was very good. A large part of the book (the middle) is about a group of bandits who come to their town to abduct people for a ransom, and I found that plotline less interesting, and hard to stomach at times - the book contains a lot of graphic violence, murder, torture, rape, etc. The last part of the book is about Xiaomei and I found that part really well written and moving.
Nie wiem, co i jak zaskoczyło po prawie 200 stronach, ale od połowy czyta się to jak raźną przygodówkę, która przy okazji pokazuje, jak duże postępy zrobił Yu Hua w pokazywaniu świata przedstawionego – tu jest wielki i otwarty, nawet gdy wciąż pisany prostym stylem.
Yu Hua’s City of Fiction is a remarkable feat — a novel that reads like a living memory, shaped as much by yearning and heartbreak as by history and myth. Set in early 20th-century China — an empire in decay, a nation on the cusp of modernity — it follows a quiet northern man, Lin Xiangfu, who journeys south during a brutal snowstorm, carrying a newborn and chasing the ghost of a city that might not even exist.
In the hands of a lesser writer, this could have been a simple tale of survival. But in Yu Hua’s world, the real landscape isn’t the battered villages or the forgotten cities — it’s the shifting, unreliable terrain of human emotion: hope, grief, betrayal, and resilience.
Yu Hua, known for acclaimed works like To Live and China in Ten Words, once again proves himself a master of blending personal tragedy with broader social upheaval. In City of Fiction, however, he experiments even further — leaning into a dreamlike, almost fable-like storytelling that feels both familiar and disorienting.
Plot Overview: The Story of Loss Disguised as a Story of Seeking
At its core, City of Fiction is a deceptively simple story:
- Lin Xiangfu, a widowed woodworker from the north, arrives in a southern town seeking a woman who abandoned him, with a child in tow.
- He builds a new life, finding brief joy with Xiaomei, a mysterious young woman who brings warmth and domesticity back to his barren world.
- But the happiness is fleeting; betrayal, loss, and the harsh realities of survival soon erode the fragile world he tries to construct.
Unlike traditional historical fiction, Yu Hua is less interested in political events and more invested in how ordinary lives are swept away by forces they can neither understand nor control.
Through Lin’s quest, Yu Hua paints a ghost story without ghosts, a romance without lasting love, and a hero’s journey where the destination is absence.
Main Character Analysis: Lin Xiangfu and the Portrait of a Dispossessed Man
Lin Xiangfu is a quietly devastating character — one of Yu Hua’s finest creations.
- Resilient but passive: Lin adapts to crushing loneliness and betrayal, yet rarely asserts his own desires or confronts those who wrong him.
- Deeply human: His naivety and hope are painfully relatable. When he loves, he loves completely; when he trusts, he trusts blindly.
- Shaped by memory and obligation: Haunted by the deaths of his parents, Lin clings to the rituals and traditions they taught him, even when the world around him makes them irrelevant.
Yu Hua sketches Lin not as a traditional tragic hero, but as something more fragile and realistic: an everyman swallowed by forces larger than himself, surviving not because he triumphs, but because he endures.
"Even if you have all the money in the world," his mother once told him, "it's not as good as having a skill."
This single line perfectly captures Lin’s — and the novel’s — emotional core.
Yu Hua’s Writing Style: Simplicity with Devastating Underpinnings
In City of Fiction, Yu Hua’s prose (beautifully translated by Todd Foley) is:
- Spare yet luminous: Sentences are short and straightforward, but they ripple with emotional weight.
- Dreamlike structure: Events often feel suspended in time, blending realism with mythic undertones.
- Deeply sensory: Smells, textures, and sounds (especially weaving, footsteps, and storms) saturate the text.
Despite the profound sadness threading the novel, Yu Hua’s tone remains remarkably restrained. He trusts the reader to feel the weight without being told, a signature trait shared with To Live and even the nonfiction essays of China in Ten Words.
Todd Foley’s translation deserves praise: it preserves Yu Hua’s delicate balance of sorrow and lyricism, allowing English-speaking readers to experience the novel’s quiet devastation without a single note feeling false.
Themes: Storytelling, Survival, and the Vanishing of Traditions
Yu Hua weaves multiple themes with astonishing subtlety:
1. The Fragility of Human Bonds
Lin’s relationship with Xiaomei is touching but ultimately hollow — a survival instinct mistaken for love. Trust becomes a currency as precious — and as fragile — as gold.
2. The Collapse of Traditions
Lin clings to rituals — saving gold, weaving, farming — but the world around him has moved on. His inherited customs are like fading echoes in a world of brutal modern realities.
3. Storytelling as Survival
The entire novel feels like a tapestry of half-remembered tales: some true, some invented, all essential. Storytelling is the only way Lin — and perhaps all of us — make sense of loss and chaos.
Yu Hua doesn’t just tell a story; he shows why we must keep telling stories, even when they betray us.
Strengths of City of Fiction
- Elegant simplicity: The writing carries profound emotional depth without ever feeling overwrought.
- Evocative atmosphere: Snowstorms, ruined villages, the sharp clang of wooden clogs — these details are almost cinematic in their vividness.
- Deep empathy: Even minor characters are drawn with sympathy and complexity, no matter how flawed they are.
Critiques and Limitations
While City of Fiction is an extraordinary achievement, it’s not without minor faults:
- Occasional narrative distance: Some readers might find the emotional detachment frustrating, particularly compared to Yu Hua’s more visceral novels like To Live.
- Pacing issues: Midway through, the story risks feeling repetitive, especially during Lin’s slow realization of betrayal.
- Minimal plot progression: Those seeking high drama or conventional historical fiction beats might find the story too subdued or meandering.
However, these are deliberate stylistic choices — fitting for a novel about futility, change, and forgotten dreams.
Final Verdict: A Quiet Masterpiece of Endurance and Loss
City of Fiction is not a novel that shouts. It mourns, it remembers, it dreams. It’s a book that invites readers to sit with it — to feel the slow ache of memory, the bitter taste of trust misplaced, the faint warmth of stories told on cold nights.
If you seek a literary journey that honors the heartbreak of ordinary lives, City of Fiction is a destination worth reaching — even if, like Lin Xiangfu’s quest, it leaves you wondering whether the city was ever there at all.
This is a book that reminded me exactly why I love historical and literary fiction as a whole, it’s that relatability to realistic human characters wrapped in easy to navigate language and story-telling.
The book reminded me a lot of East of Eden, especially Lin Xiangfu’s character and how similar it was to Adam’s, both being sincere people who loved fully and trusted wholly. At times, Lin Xiangfu was so heartbreakingly naïve in his loving trust and forgiveness. And despite the troubles he endured heartache, I would say he was compensated in his found family. Some of the human relations portrayed in this book were so beautiful that they made up for some of the tragedy, loss, and gore.
The writing-style at times felt very detached, especially when recounting some particularly gory scenes. Reading some passages, I completely blacked out and had to reread to be able to absorb what was happening on the page. There wasn’t much to the plot, but I didn’t mind that much.
I must confess this was my first time reading this author, so I didn’t really know what to expect. But when I saw City of Fiction in a bookstore in Brussels, I knew I had to read it. Set at the end of the Qing dynasty, in the early 20th century, it portrays a chaotic and violent time in Chinese history—full of bandits, armies, death, robbery and suffering.
What struck me most was how vividly the author brings that era to life. The novel is detailed, sometimes uncomfortable, but deeply immersive. I loved how it's told in two parts, each offering a different perspective on the same events. Over the course of several decades, I grew very attached to the characters and even wished the story had gone on longer.
It’s a beautifully written (or rather, translated) book, and my only regret is that is not available in Spanish, so I can't recommend it to my dad 😢.
This one is full of emotions, just wow. I love Lin Xiangfu's story and his close friendship with Chen Yongliang 🥺 There were a lotttt of graphic scenes which took me by surprise and I do think some of them can be excluded as they did not contribute anything to the plot.
I do wish, however, the author would expand the story a bit to include what happened to Lin Baijia, but I understood his intention to aim the spotlight to Lin Xiangfu and Xiaomei.
Nevertheless I enjoyed this book very much and look forward to reading other books by Yu Hua.
Questa è stata una lettura estremamente piacevole, che mi ha suscitato una varietà di sensazioni in un ampio spettro. Alcuni passaggi nella prima parte sono stati particolarmente ripetitivi e lenti, ma nel complesso del racconto sono riuscita ad apprezzarli lo stesso. Ogni volta che veniva descritto il rapporto padre figlia mi si inumidivano gli occhi; sono parole che raccontano una dolcezza infinita.
Je ne m’attendais pas à ce que la partie sur la violence et le brigandage prennent autant de place au milieu du livre. Ça a fortement ralenti ma lecture. Mais heureusement le destin croisé et tragique des personnages relève le niveau !
yu hua’s writing is phenomenal and silvia pozzi’s translation is impeccable. this novel is full of characters, so many things are happening at the same time, but it’s never confusing or boring - i was in for the ride until the very last page! i felt so many emotions while reading this, yu hua captures the harsh reality without sugar-coating it (at times it was a heavy read). the historical background was well done. definitely would recommend if you’re a fan of stories centered around families and people trying to find each-other.
"La Ville introuvable" de Yu Hua est bien plus qu'un roman : c'est une fresque poignante et immersive de la Chine du début du XXe siècle, une période de profonds bouleversements sociaux et politiques. L'œuvre exige une lecture attentive, récompensée par une plongée viscérale dans un monde peint avec un réalisme cru et un lyrisme touchant. Le récit s'ouvre sur l'arrivée énigmatique de Lin Xiangfu dans la ville enneigée de Xizhen, portant un enfant et un profond sentiment de perte. Cette entrée énigmatique installe un questionnement persistant, moteur du récit. La quête de Lin Xiangfu pour retrouver Xiaomei, la femme disparue, devient un voyage symbolique, une recherche de quelque chose de perdu, une recherche d'appartenance dans un monde fracturé. Conçu avant "Brothers", ce roman historique se déroule de la fin de la dynastie Qing à la fin des années 30, sous la Chine républicaine, une époque de violence, de seigneurs de guerre et de brigandage, thèmes chers à Yu Hua. Yu Hua tisse ces événements dans la trame narrative, montrant comment ils façonnent la vie des personnages, comment ils dictent leurs choix et comment ils définissent finalement leurs destinées. Au cœur de cette toile de fond brutale se tisse une belle histoire d'amour : un homme du nord recueille un couple accidenté. Une relation naît avec la jeune femme, qui disparaît puis revient enceinte avant de le quitter à nouveau, lui laissant son enfant. Sa descente vers le sud à sa recherche est vaine, leurs chemins se croisant sans qu'ils ne le sachent, une ironie déchirante. Les descriptions vives et sensorielles transportent le lecteur dans un univers à la fois étranger et familier. La prose précise et évocatrice capture la beauté austère des paysages, la rudesse des villes et les émotions brutes des personnages. On perçoit le froid hivernal, l'odeur âcre des marchés, la cacophonie des rues. Les personnages eux-mêmes sont complexes et ambigus. Lin Xiangfu, d'abord obsédé par sa recherche, révèle vulnérabilité et résilience. Il n'est pas un héros conventionnel, mais un homme imparfait cherchant un sens dans un monde instable. Xiaomei, l'objet de sa quête, est encore plus énigmatique. Son histoire, racontée de son point de vue dans la seconde partie du roman, est une révélation, remettant en question les perceptions initiales, révélant une femme tiraillée par des loyautés conflictuelles, entre son amour pour Lin et son devoir envers un autre. Ses actions, parfois contradictoires, sont finalement motivées par un profond sens du sacrifice, une volonté d'endurer la douleur pour ceux qu'elle aime.
Le concept de Wencheng, la ville insaisissable, symbolise le désir des personnages pour un au-delà, leurs espoirs d'un avenir meilleur, un lieu de réconfort. La quête de Wencheng devient une métaphore de la condition humaine, la recherche universelle de sens. La structure narrative de Yu Hua, avec ses changements de perspective et son caractère épisodique, lui permet d'explorer les complexités de ses personnages et le contexte historique dans lequel ils vivent. Il n'hésite pas à dépeindre la violence et la brutalité de l'époque, mais il capture également les moments de tendresse et de compassion qui existent à leurs côtés. Le rythme du roman est délibéré, permettant au lecteur de s'immerger pleinement dans le monde qu'il a créé, de savourer les détails et de contempler les questions profondes qu'il soulève. "La Ville introuvable" n'est pas un roman qui offre des réponses faciles ou des jugements moraux simplistes. C'est une œuvre d'une profondeur et d'une complexité profondes, une méditation sur l'amour, la perte, la mémoire et le pouvoir durable de l'esprit humain face à une adversité écrasante. C'est un roman qui persiste dans l'esprit longtemps après que la dernière page a été tournée, incitant à la réflexion sur la nature insaisissable du bonheur et la recherche durable de sens dans un monde qui semble souvent défier la compréhension. C'est un chef-d'œuvre qui consolide la place de Yu Hua comme l'une des voix les plus importantes de la littérature contemporaine.
Sembrano tanti piccoli racconti, come un mosaico che crea una narrazione più vasta che avvolge non solo i personaggi ma anche la Cina stessa e la sua storia.
"La città che non c'è" è una storia che attraversa vari decenni: dalla fine della dinastia Ching (1911-1912) alla nascita della Repubblica popolare cinese (1927), dalla situazione politica al brigantaggio, dalla povertà alla guerra civile, dalla vita bucolica alle scene di crudeltà e violenza descritte con maestria. Vediamo una nazione che nelle sue zone più rurali resta legata alle tradizioni mentre nelle città si avvia alla modernizzazione. In tutto questo ci accompagna il racconto di un amore che rimane incompiuto, e forse destinato ad un'altra vita, e il rammarico di un abbraccio mai dato alla propria figlia.
Questa è la storia di Li Xianliang: giovane uomo laborioso, ottimo artigiano, benestante e arrivato a Xizhen bel mezzo di una forte nevicata, con una neonata addietro. Lui viene da Shendian, un piccolo villaggio a Nord, e la sua storia inizia con l'incontro della giovane Xiaomei e del fratello Qiang. Qiang va alla ricerca di un parente, o così dice, e Xiaomei resta nella casa di Li Xianliang. Si innamorano e si sposano, ma poi Xiaomei sparisce con tutti i soldi messi da parte, fino a quel momento, da Li Xianliang. Ritorna dopo qualche mese incinta e, nonostante la ritrosia iniziale, Li Xianliang la riaccoglie credendo che questo sia il loro lieto fine, ma Xiaomeisparisce di nuovo dopo il parto lasciandogli una bambina senza nome.
È un viaggio d'amore volto a ritrovare una sposa e una madre, in cui vengono analizzate tutte le sfumature dell'animo umano grazie ai vari incontri e ai rapporti che stringe il protagonista. È un viaggio alla ricerca di una città, Wencheng, la città che non c'è, che è stata inventata da Xiaomei e Qiang quando si erano presentati da Lin Xiangfu.
Ma è anche la storia di Xiaomei e della sua doppia vita. Nonostante nella prima parte possa risultare disonestà, è una persona dal cuore buono che mette gli altri prima di se stessa. In questa parte leggiamo la storia dalla sua prospettiva: già moglie di Quiang, che conosce fin dall'infanzia e a cui resta legata per senso del dovere, si innamora del secondo marito, Lin Xiangfu, spera di poter vivere quest'amore nella loro prossima vita così come spera di riabbracciare la figlia che non riesce a dimenticare, per loro sacrifica tutto, anche se stessa.
Due metà diseguali, entrambe nominate Wenchang, entrambe che sembrano un romanzo autonomo, in cui i protagonisti si trovano e si perdono a più riprese fino ad un finale tragico, intenso, ma magnifico ed emozionante. Parla dell'inesorabilità della vita, dei rapporti umani nelle loro gioie e nelle loro difficoltà, dell'amore e di quello che si è disposti a fare in nome di esso.
Yu Hua narra con una penna versatile, compassionevole, realista e sincera nelle descrizioni più crude e dure. Ma ad essere davvero indimenticabili sono i personaggi: credibili e vividi. I suoi personaggi non sono cattivi e mostrano quanto possa essere difficile essere una brava persona quando tutti si aggrappano ostinatamente a qualcosa.
A haunting literary experience, following the lives of a group of people brought together by random events in early 20th century China. At one level, the story follows a young man who meets a young woman, has a baby daughter with her only to see the woman disappear. The story then follows this young man's travels to try and find and her, before settling in a remote town (which he believes is where the woman is from). On this level, this is a slice-of-life bitter-sweet love story, which allows the novel to talk about family values, life in rural China, the beauty and horror of tradition, etc. On another level, the story of our protagonists also shows the brutality of life in China in those years, against the background of the social and political upheavals that ravaged the countryside, and caused innumerable deaths and suffering.
I really liked the book, and I especially appreciated the style. I'm not totally sure whether it was the translator or the original text, but it left an impression. The style itself is rather dry and somewhat telegraphic - there isn't much description or flowery prose. This style, however, contributes directly to the experience - the haunting nature of the text is amplified due to the dry delivery, which leaves the richness (and horror) of some events to itself, not requiring a lot of narration. It activates the imagination and creates an immersive experience that really affected me.
I also learned a lot from the book - being angry at times, frustrated at others, and moved at yet others. The author seems to want to convey what lives of simple people felt like in those years, without defaulting to tropes that other authors often employ to over-dramatise the situation.
I think I also need some more time to digest the feelings that echo in me as a result of this book. This, in itself, is a sign of its greatness.
My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an early copy of this book in return for an honest review.
Set in rural China, City of Fiction follows Lin Xiangfu, a solitary woodworker with a painful past and a deep devotion to family legacy. When a mysterious pair - Xiaomei and her “brother” Aqiang arrive at his door, Lin’s quiet, orderly life begins to unravel. What unfolds is a slow, devastating story of love, deception, and survival.
I honestly didn’t expect City of Fiction (originally Wencheng) to move me the way it did.
Xiaomei is one of the most complicated characters I’ve read in a while. I went from hating her, feeling sorry for her, to deeply questioning her. By the time you understand her full story, it hurts in a different way.
What really struck me was how Yu Hua builds emotional devastation not through big drama, but through absence. People disappear, homes empty, lives shift and yet, somehow, you’re still deeply tethered to the characters. Especially Lin Xiangfu’s arc. He carries an unspoken loneliness, the way he tries to carry on afterward. The way he turns back to his craft as a way to survive the sense of time stretching and looping through land, labor, and loss.
It’s not a book I’ll recommend to everyone, it’s melancholy and not much happens in a traditional sense. But if you enjoy literary fiction that leans into mood, place, and the complexities of human trust… this one will stay with you.
⚠️ I will say: there are some parts in this book which includes prostitution, banditry, and violence against civilians during periods of social unrest that was really hard to read. It felt bleak and cruel and reminded me how unkind the world of this book can be. Scenes of natural disaster, hunger, and communal trauma are also present throughout.
Inizia come un racconto fiabesco e prosegue con tragedie, disgrazie, ferocia e brutalità. Inizia con la storia di un amore - e di un inganno - e prosegue con una sfilza di descrizioni raccapriccianti di torture e omicidi. Mentre ci racconta la storia degli scontri tra partito popolare e partito nazionalista cinese, Yu Hua ci parla di singole vite, di personaggi a cui ci fa affezionare e che avranno però ben poca gioia nella loro vita: ogni momento di vera felicità è ammantato di una patina opprimente di malinconia, e il lettore è consapevole che questa non sarà una storia a lieto fine. Pur svelandoci nel finale il mistero più grande del romanzo, la sensazione di inconcludenza provata al termine della lettura è stata forte: troppi personaggi raccontati e poi lasciati da parte, troppe divagazioni che a fini narrativi non avevano davvero senso e che infatti non portano a nulla, troppa dispersione rispetto a quello che era il centro del racconto. Niente a che vedere con i fasti di Brothers, se chiedete a me.
From literature perspective, it's a great book, lots of places where Yu Hua literally painted the picture right in front of me with a few words. When he describes the sorrow Fuxiang had when he grew up, he didn't say a word about sorrow, but he delivered that subtly well.
But I really can't like the story per se. I thought that's a disruptive era, the time and "bigger things" that's going on led to each "small person"'s bitter life. They didn't have a choice. Xiaomei was illiterate, not educated, she has no foundation or possibly the idea for revolt. Women's life are miserable in that era, on top of the general misery that everybody had. The long lasted patriotism and the turmoil at the time all casted shadows on how women could uprise for their own rightful rights. I guess I didn't live in that era and have seen a better world (if it truly is better) so that I'm "judging" and "disliking" the content of this book.