The China Lover

by Ian Buruma

From Shanghai before and during the Second World War to U.S.-occupied Tokyo, and, finally, to the Middle East in the early 1970s, Ian Buruma's masterful new novel about the intoxicating power of collective fantasy follows three star-struck men driven to extraordinary acts by their devotion to the same legendary woman. A beautiful Japanese girl born in Manchuria, Yamaguchi Yoshiko is known as Ri Koran in Japan, Li Xianglan in China, and Shirley Yamaguchi in the U.S.-and her past is a closely guarded secret. In Buruma's reimagining of the life of Yamaguchi Yoshiko, a Japanese girl torn between patriotism for her parents' homeland, worldly ambition, and sympathy for the Chinese, she will reflect almost exactly the twists and turns in the history of modern Japan. The China Lover is both luminously written and imbued with the insights and erudition that have made Ian Buruma one of the most respected writers on modern Asia.

Genres: Historical Fiction, China, Fiction, Japan, War, Asia, Historical

320 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2008

About the author

Ian Buruma is a British-Dutch writer and academic, much of whose work focuses on the culture of Asia, particularly that of 20th-century Japan, where he lived and worked for many years.

Reviews

[Whitaker · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found it hard to decide what to make of The China Lover. Largely because, I feel, it can't decide what to make of itself.

As a biographical novel of Yoshiko Yamaguchi, it is not a great success. The novel is written as three separate stories of three different lives: Sato Daisuke, a Japanese man in 1940s Manuchuria whose work for the government film studio allows him to promote Yoshiko's first career as Ri Koran; Sidney Vanoven, a gay American working in Japan in the 1950s whose work for the US military film censors brings him into contact with Yoshiko; and finally Sato Kenkichi, a young Japanese man in the 1970s who writes the scripts for Yoshiko's current affairs programmes.

We see Yoshiko through their eyes, and follow her story as they report it to us, filtered through their perceptions and encounters with her. This third-hand approach gives us very little insight into the real Yoshiko Yamaguchi. What we learn about her is likely little more than what you would find in a Wikipedia account of her career.

Insofar as Yoshiko interacts with these characters, any interaction has to be taken with a pinch of salt. Since these are fictional characters, none of these meetings and conversations actually took place. This is all the more disturbing since Buruma highlights certain character traits of Yoshiko through these interactions as if they are her real traits. The form of the work—melding as it does the real with the imaginary with no clear demarcation in between—compels a dangerous belief that the Yoshiko Yamaguchi Buruma presents here is the real Yoshiko. But, whether the picture he paints is an accurate representation of the real Yoshiko Yamaguchi, we cannot truly assess from these fictitious accounts. And bereft as we are of any internal guideposts to make this assessment, we can (and should) only conclude we cannot rely at all on this portrait: surely a fairly damning assessment of something that purports to be at least semi-biographical.

As a novel to be taken on its own merit, it is also not a great success. The three narrators are essentially mouthpieces for Buruma's account of Yoshiko Yamaguchi's life. You are not going to read this novel for insight into the lives of well-delineated characters. Indeed, you can barely tell these characters apart from the language he uses in these first-person narratives. Can you tell from these five extracts which of the three narrators is speaking? Bear in mind that these are three very different people: Older Japanese propagandist in 1940s Manchuria, young American gay censor in 1950s Tokyo, and young alienated Japanese man in 1970s Tokyo. Answers are at the bottom of this review.

Extract A: Confronted with people of flesh and blood, I was hopelessly tongue-tied, and around the age of five or six I developed a stammer. I imagined that everyone around me, apart from my mother, was a faker of some kind, a hypocrite, wearing a mask.

Extract B: They went through the scene several more times, the young man stooping to take her into his arms, and the girl closing her eyes in blissful anticipation, though always stopping short of actual contact. I was trying to think where I had seen her face before.

Extract C: I immediately recognised Kawamura as the older man at the film premiere. Something about him, the elegance of his tweed suit, the sheen on his silver hair, the way he discreetly sized me up though his large tortoiseshell glasses, made me feel a little shabby in his presence, as if I were wearing the wrong kind of shoes.

Extract D: I finally took Yoshiko round to meet Okuni. We went to see his latest play in the great yellow tent, pitched on a vacant spot beside the lily pond in Ueno. It was on one of those humid summer nights when the cicadas rasp and the fireflies set the pond alight. The tent was full, with no standing room left.

Extract E: I could no longer stand being around the movie set. I hated the whole enterprise with a passion. But it was my duty to be there. So I watched without really taking anything in.

Finally, as a political novel, there isn't enough heft to the themes of changing the world or the injustices of imperial domination. Each are touched on but, given the form used to raise these issues, only in the most superficial way.

Nevertheless, there are some impressively memorable scenes. Of these I'd like to mention three. One involves film buff Vanoven searching out old Japanese film classics only to be shown bonfires where the celluloid reels are being burnt under orders of the American military censorship office as offensive remnants of Japan's imperialist past; another involves a head scratching public display of square dancing put up by the head of the American military censorship office at the film premiere of Sounds of Spring as a means of inculcating good American values in the Japanese. Another particularly good one involves the staging of a modernist play, The Ri Koran Story, by a Japanese theatre troupe in occupied Palestine. This is how it goes:

A slight afternoon breeze took the edge off the daytime heat when the play began inside the tent, which was packed with people of all ages, people who had never seen a play before, let alone a Japanese one. They seemed to enjoy the music, and the lighting effects. At least some of the words must have got through, and even if they didn't, the actors hammed it up so much that they made the Palestinians laugh anyway. They laughed and they laughed, more than I'd ever seen a Japanese audience laugh, as though these Arabs had been starved of laughter, and their natural joy came gushing back through a broken dam.

I didn't recognise much from the original Ri Koran Story. The play had been changed almost beyond recognition. Ri Koran went looking for the key to unlock her amnesia in a Palestinian refugee camp, instead of Asakusa. The evil puppetmaster, Amakasu, played by Shina Tora, wore an eyepatch, like Moshe Dayan's, and a star of David was pinned to his chest. When the evil puppetmaster is overthrown, the actors sing the Palestinian guerrilla anthem, with Ri in the middle, dressed as a Palestinian commando, brandishing a gun.

All went well until about halfway through the last act. No one who was there will ever forget it. Okuni couldn't have staged a more dramatic effect if he had tried. The stage went dark. A sinister blue spotlight was switched on to the tune of the Israeli anthem; Shina Tora, as Moshe Dayan, stepped onto the stage holding Ri as a puppet on his string. The arch enemy had entered the camp. First the children screamed, then they pelted poor Shina Tora with gravel and stones picked up from the ground. Yo, as Ri, tried her best to stay cool, but I could see panic in her eyes. Shina Tora ducked, while pulling evil faces at the audience, which agitated them even more. Near the edge of the stage was Abu Wahid, waving his big hairy arms, trying the calm people down, telling them it was just a play. But the crowd was far too excited for such niceties. They were ready to lynch the Jewish villain with the David star. This was the moment when Okuni showed his genius for improvisation. Standing behind Shina Tora, as one of his henchmen, he ordered the actors to duck behind the scenery. The stage went dark once more, and a minute or two later Yo reappeared, dressed as a Palestinian commando, holding the villain's star in one hard and a Kalashnikov in the other, while the cast sang the Palestinian anthem.

It was a master stroke. Every man, woman, and child in the tent joined in, some of them crying their hearts out.

As good as these are, they don't, unfortunately, add up to a strong coherent novel. I enjoyed the reading of it well enough, but I can't say I'd really recommend it.

Answers:
A: Young alienated Japanese man in 1970s Tokyo
B: Young gay American censor in 1950s Tokyo
C: Young gay American censor in 1950s Tokyo
D: Young alienated Japanese man in 1970s Tokyo
E: Older Japanese propagandist in 1940s Manchuria

[Patrick McCoy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ian Buruma is one of the last of a dying breed, the public intellectual in the tradition of thinkers like George Orwell, H. L. Mencken, and Edmund Wilson. Buruma is fluent in Dutch, English, German, Chinese, and Japanese. He has a wide range of interests like literature, film, history, and politics. He has written books with subjects as diverse as Japanese history, Chinese dissidents, Dutch Muslims, Japanese and German postwar guilt, an appreciation of English culture, and the conflict between the Occident and the Orient among others. In his most recent novel, The China Lover, he is able to indulge in all of these interests as back story in the fictional recounting of the life of Li Xianglan, Ri Koran, Shirley Yamaguchi—the Japanese girl born Yamaguchi Yoshiko in Manchuria.

There are three sections, and the first section is narrated by the decadent and worldly Daisuke Sato, who has recruited Ri Koran for propaganda dissemination. He has a great love for China and a misguided belief in the idea of a unified Asia through the benevolence of Japan. I think that Buruma shows his affection/interest for China. When Japan loses Manchuria and the war the novel shifts to Tokyo.

The next section takes place in Tokyo and is narrated by a thinly veiled Donald Richie, as a gay movie critic named Sidney Vanoven from Ohio who is obsessed with Japan and film. He is a fan of the former Ri Koran and befriends her. At his stage she takes on a new image as “Shirley” Yamaguchi doing propaganda for the invading army to doing films approved by the occupation in postwar Japan realistically rendered with all the specific details. She also marries a Japanese-American artist Isamu Noguchi, and this give Burma opportunities to wax on about the differences between “pure” Japanese and foreigners who will never be fully accepted into the culture. Her next move is to Hollywood where she ends her film career as a failure.

In the last section, a student writer Kenichi Sato lands a job as journalist Yoshiko (Shirley) Yamaguchi’s head writer. He has formerly worked in pink films that had a political bent and was friends with a member of an avant-garde theater troupe (much like Burma himself in his youth). The new career as a journalist allows Buruma to bring the characters into the Middle East among true believer terrorists in Lebanon.

The novel is a summation of Buruma’s life, intellectual specialties, and interests artistically rendered in a fascinating story of a woman who witnessed many significant events in her lifetime. I really enjoyed the novel and was impressed by the fact-base details of each section.

[Tocotin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh my, this was fun. I read it some time ago. I don’t really buy paper novels anymore, just nonfiction books that I intend to keep – novels I read on Kindle – so this was probably one of the last books I bought in BookOff. I put it on the shelf and forgot about it. Good that I finally got to read it!

I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know anything about Yamaguchi Yoshiko. I thought this book was going to be about Kawashima Yoshiko, hehe. But it was really interesting, packed with details and facts and people – I felt the wind of history on my face, so to speak. I liked the middle part best, maybe because I recognized Donald Richie – also, hey! Who was that horrible painter dude who lived in Kamakura? Was it Kaburagi Kiyokata? Tell me it ain’t so… but… shh… I wouldn’t be surprised if it were… I was so angry with his useless ass! I’m talking about the book character, not the real guy. Oh, I dislike traditionalists so much! Let’s all wear only kimonos, put the women back in the kitchen, pray in Latin and shit on the grass!

What was I about… ah. The conclusion is, the ideologies screw everyone, so let us screw them too.

[Sooma Ahmad · Rating 4 out of 5]

جميله وغنيه بالاحداث وكتابتها رصينه وفيها الكثير عن سحر اليابان والصين ... الروايه مقسمه الى ٣ اقسام كل جزء يتكلم عن شخصيه مختلفه القاسم المشترك الي بينهم هي ري كوران او ياماغوتشي يوشيكو والسينما .

[Ushan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yamaguchi Yoshiko was born in 1920 in Manchuria to Japanese parents. She grew up bilingual in Japanese and Mandarin and at ease with Chinese culture, taking Chinese name Li Xianglan (I must say that pinyin looks weird to my eye when the 1930s and the 1940s are being discussed; Google Books led me to a 1943 article from The Shanghai Times, a 1944 article from Nippon Times Weekly etc. that all call her Li Hsian-lan, according to the then-standard Wade-Giles romanization system). At age 13 she started taking singing lessons with a White Russian emigre opera singer, and started singing in Mandarin on the radio. As Yamaguchi's native Manchuria was occupied by Japan in one of the local wars that later merged into the global conflagration called World War II, it occurred to the occupiers that they must be winning not only military battles, but also the hearts and minds of the occupied. What better way to do it than to build a movie studio making films about Chinese women falling for Japanese men? What better actress to play these Chinese women than young Li Xianglan, or Ri Koran, as the Chinese characters that make up her name are read in Japanese? She became a huge star, and her songs were listened to on the radio all over China: Japanese-occupied, Nationalist-controlled and Communist-controlled.

Come Japan's defeat in World War II, and Yamaguchi was imprisoned for treason, and was about to be executed when a White Russian emigre friend smuggled a birth certificate that proved that she was a Japanese national and could not have been a traitor to the Chinese nation. She went to Japan, and played in a few films, including the first Japanese film ever that showed a man and a woman kissing. However, because of her Manchurian background Yamaguchi was consigned to play exotics: a Chinese nurse, a Korean prostitute, a Taiwanese aboriginal woman instead of ordinary Japanese women. Poor postwar Japan was too small for her ambitions, so Yamaguchi went to Hollywood, where she played the Japanese war bride of a Korean War veteran from rural California and the like roles. Yamaguchi was married to American-born half-Japanese half-American sculptor and landscape architect Isamu Noguchi for some 5 years, but the marriage ended in divorce. When she was at her weakest, a young Japanese diplomat proposed to the aging star, and they stayed together until he died. Retired from acting, Yamaguchi produced a TV show about world affairs, reporting on the Vietnam War and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Yamaguchi was the first Japanese TV reporter to interview Kim Il Sung, a onetime guerrilla who fought Japanese occupiers of Korea like the Chinese guerrilla who fought Japanese occupiers of Manchuria she saw whipped from the window of her boarding school dormitory as a child. Mao Zedong granted her an interview on one condition: that in the banquet hall she sing a hit song from one of her wartime films.

Usually a novel has only one narrator, but since no one person could have followed Yamaguchi through her strange career, Buruma breaks up the narration by giving it to three fictional men: a Japanese svengali who launches Yamaguchi's film career in occupied Manchuria, a gay American Japanophile film critic who becomes Yamaguchi's best friend, since she knows that he is not interested in her as a woman, and witnesses both her first meeting with Noguchi and the breakdown of their marriage, and a Japanese scriptwriter for Yamaguchi's world affairs TV show who becomes so disgusted with capitalism and American world domination that he joins the Japanese Red Army in Lebanon and takes part in the terrorist attack on Israel's Lod Airport (now the Ben Gurion International Airport), which killed 26 people, most of them Christian pilgrims from Puerto Rico. For someone like me whose knowledge of modern Japanese history is superficial, the scenes from the stories of each of these narrators' lives are totally captivating: the island of opulent decadence in an ocean of threadbare misery in occupied Manchuria, supported by the violence of the Imperial Japanese Army; the splendors of (pre-AIDS) gay scene in bombed-out postwar Japan; the humiliation of the Japanese by their American occupiers that made the scriptwriter from rural Japan want to "[take] on the Western world and the capitalist imperialist system", which in practice meant killing Puerto Ricans who came to Israel to walk in Jesus' footsteps.

[Dawn Lennon · Rating 3 out of 5]

For all the promise of this book, there were so many drawbacks. On the upside, the story line gave a glimpse into Japan before its turn to democracy. It was then that I realized I knew very little about feudal Japan and the confluence of hundreds of years of tumultuous history, especially its relationship with China with all it violence, dominance, and misery inflicted on both sides. Along with Buruma's weaving of history into the story line, there was some fascinating insight into the culture, collective and individualistic thinking of the Japanese and Chinese, including its roots into ever-shifting controlling politics, mores, and morality. Even though the reader has to piece these insights together and often read between the lines, it was one of the redeeming aspects of the book. Yes, I learned a lot.

On the downside, the story line was immensely intricate and too often confusing. It was difficult to keep characters straight because of their Asian names and also because Buruma introduces so many tangential figures. An underlying catalyst of the book is the making of movies, a variety of kinds, for the purposes of political change, hence the inclusion of lots of detail about movies and actors with Asian names.

What was most troublesome was the fact that each of the three parts of the book was a separate story line by different characters who had either direct or oblique connections to the lives of each other. The problem was that each central character was written with the same voice, using the same storytelling structure, and became clearly the voice of the author. Consequently, the story line lost impact, clarity, and energy.

The prose was a bit turgid, dense, and cluttered. Since the author is a professor of journalism, I can understand how he would have chosen to intertwine a the life of Ri Koran, the famous Japanese actress, with his knowledge and views of the time and the period. Somehow the beautify of a well-written historical novel got short shrift.

[Keith Alverson · Rating 2 out of 5]

The wonderful thing about this book is the intricate and erudite knowledge of the period. The knowledge and opinion of the author comes out strongly in each of the three protagonists. Indeed, because of this, they all sound the same in the end. The fact that they are all interested in frequent meaningless sex and not romantic relationships is another common feature. The author's commentary on Japanese society and recent history spoken through these three characters is interesting and illuminating. This said, as either a fictionalized quasi-biography of Yamaguchi, or a novel, both of which it the book seems to wish to be, it does not really work. I gained little insight into Yamaguchi, other than some trivial things like where she was located and what she was employed doing at various phases in her life, and that the author feels she was a bit vapid, but attractive, ambitious and lucky. Calling this a novel is the real problem. The three segments don't fit together at all. There are some tantalizing possible connecting threads but they fizzle out in strange ways (sato san, the 'I' from part one reappearing in part 2 only to be eaten by a dog immediately, Vandoever the 'I' from part two reappearing in part three, only to be strangely nonexistent in Yamaguchi's memory). Towards the end it gets quite tedious to read, as by then you are aware that it is not a novel. That the stories and insights, do not link together, and just sort of peter out rather than ending in a way to leave the reader with any kind of overall insight or question.

[Stephen Rowland · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating. I haven't read anything with as much glee and enthusiasm in a long time. Buruma is primarily a nonfiction writer, so honestly I had low expectations for this novel. As far as the first two parts go, it's almost as if it were written for me personally. Everything I am currently obsessed with is covered -- Japanese cinema, Manchukuo, pre-communist Shanghai, post-WWII American Occupation of Japan, and so on. Most of the events dramatized here actually happened, many characters really existed, and it's easy to figure out who other characters are based on. Though the third section is a bit uninspired and the novel sort of just peters out at the end, finding such an amalgamation of my passions in a single compelling volume made me very happy.

[Ruba AlTurki · Rating 5 out of 5]

"هذه الرواية خيالية مرتكزة على أساس من أحداث تاريخية.بعضها مختلق،وبعضها الآخر قد جرى فعلًا.مع أنها لم تحدث بالضبط بالطريقة التي تظهر بها في هذا الكتاب.وإنني مدين بالكثير إلى أوتاكا يوشيكو،المعروفة سابقًا باسم يوشيكو ياماغوتشي،التي تكرمت بالسماح لي بإجراء أحاديث معها في مناسبات متعدّدة.فسيرتها الذاتية التي صدرت في كتاب بعنوان :ري كوران،واتاشي نو هاناساي(نصف عمري تحت إسم ري كوران)،منشورات شيشتو بونكا1987،كان مصدرًا لايقدر بثمن للمعلومات حول حياتها غير الاعتيادية في الصين.وهنالك مصدر آخر هو أحاديثي مع شريكها الرائع في تأليف الكتاب فوتوجيورا ساكويا الذي كانت سيرته الذاتية الخاصة التي صدرت في كتاب بعنوان:"مانشو نو كاز"(الرياح النشورية)،منشورات شويشا،طوكيو1996،مصدراً آخر جزيل الأهمية بالنسبة لي،إذ أنه كان قد غرس البذرة الأولى لهذه الرواية في رأسي.وإني مدين له من أجل ذلك بخالص شكري.
أما دونالد ريتشي،الروائي والناقد والكاتب الأجنبي الأكثر شهرة،في شؤون السينما اليابانية فكان قد عايش،لشطر كبير من حياته،إحتلال الحلفاء لليابان.ويقدم كتابه الذي هو بعنوان:"يوميات اليابان:1947-2004"المنشور في مطابع ستون بريدج2004،أفضل رواية شخصية حول تلك الفترة.فكونه معلمي الخاص،وصديقي المحب لعدة سنوات،تمكن من أن يعلمني الكثير من الأمور التي صرت أعرفها عن اليابان.
ويذهب الشكر أيضًا إلى التوجيه الرائع الذي لقيته من مراجعي كتابي:فانيسا موبلي،في نيويورك،وتوبي مانداي في لندن-ولقد كان صديقي جون رايل قارئاًحاذقاً لمخطوطة الكتاب ،وقد منعت قرءاته ظهور العديد من العبارات غير الموفقة من الذهاب إلى المطبعة."

رواية عاشق الصين كما يتضح من كلمة الشكر السابقة حملت العديد من وجهات النظر المختلفة حول اليابان ،الصين وآسيا بشكل عام.. أثناء ،قبل وبعد الحرب العالمية .
تقع الرواية في ثلاثة فصول لكل فصل شخصية رئيسية مختلفة عن الفصول الاخرى ،تجمع بين هذه الشخصيات الممثلة صاحبة الشخصية الرئيسية للرواية ري كوران أو يوشيكو ياماغوتشي الفتاة يابانية الأصل التي أجبرتها الظروف على العيش في الصين حيث تبنتها عائلة صينية صديقة لعائلتها اليابانية التي أفقدها إدمان والدها واستهتاره كل أمل في العيش حياة كريمة.
الفصل الأول يتحدث عن ساتو سان..فتى الريف الياباني وعاشق الصين العظيم حكاية عشقه للصين منذ طفولته وحتى خروجه الكبير إليها علاقته بالصين وحياته فيها مشاعره تجاه وطنه الأصل ومعشوقته خلال الحرب الآسيوية العظيمة والإحتلال الأجنبي ثم الحرب المدمرة .. وخلال ذلك ولادة الممثلة الأسطورة ري كوران على يديه .
الفصل الثاني مع سيد-سان أو سيدني ..البائس الريفي الأمريكي الذي وجد الأمل في الفرار من بؤسه في اليابان إفتتانه باليابان واستماتته في البقاء هناك ومحاولاته ليكون شيئاً ما برغم معرفته أنه لا ينتمي إلى هؤلاء ولا إلى هؤلاء.
الفصل الاخير ساتو سان ..ريفي ياباني ترعرع في قريته الصغيرة بالقرب من قاعدة أمريكية عسكرية ..بقي مترددًا حول من يكون وماذا يفعل فترة طويلة لم يعرف خلالها اي استقرار في محاولة مستميتة كي لايكون الضفدع الذي يعيش في البئر .إلى أن وصل بطريقة أو بأخرى إلى قلب المخيمات الفلسطينية ومن ثم إلى قلب المعتقلات الإسرائيلية.
رواية رائعة ترينا أوجه مختلفة للفترة حروب معظمنا يجهل الكثير عنها،ليس فقط الأوجه السياسية والانسانية والاقتصادية بل حتى أوجه فلسفية فكريّة مثيرة جداً للإهتمام.

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'd much rather have read a straight biography.

Reviews which I liked:
"The fundamental problem is a lack of structure and focus. Although Yamaguchi features in each of the three sections, she's too weakly characterised to give the divided narrative the coherence it requires, while the cinematic allusions, which initially offer a useful thematic thread, come to seem increasingly contrived and inessential as the novel progresses. The problem is further compounded by Buruma's tendency to give bit parts or guest-list mentions to a host of characters who play no significant role in the drama."
The Guardian

"The problem with the novel is not that the narrative is fragmented but that it is inchoate. For all Buruma's grasp of his subject, he has failed to forge it into a compelling fiction. The first part is bewildering for anyone without a solid grounding in the history of Sino-Japanese relations. Characters such as the sexually ambiguous and politically treacherous Manchurian princess, Eastern Jewel, are introduced and then dropped. Truman Capote pops up for an irrelevant chapter."
The Telegraph

=======
Good lines:
"Part of the problem was our textbook, which was of a somewhat specialized nature, since it was designed for intelligence officers during the war. I can still tell you exactly what a howitzer gun is in Japanese, or a sergeant second class in the Kanto army. Typical textbook sentences like 'Father has been shipped out to Manchukuo to join the Kanto Army as a lieutenant' held no mysteries for me, but were of limited use."

On Japanese society: "The obsessive politeness was really a form of social hemophilia, the terror of pricking a person's self-esteem lest he or she bleed to death."

"People say my native country is beautiful. I suppose it is. We have plenty of lakes and snowy mountains and rice fields. But natural beauty still leaves me cold. I prefer neon to sunlight, concrete to wood, plastic to rock."
NB: Many Japanese people seem to like concrete.

"Okuni felt a deep nostalgia for the city of ruins. Tokyo used to be a fantastic playground, he said. Since everything was wrecked, the city has infinite possibilities. He remembered how you could see all the way from Asakusa to Mount Fuji."
NB: I've seen all the way from Asakusa to Mount Fuji! It was from the bar at the top of the Asahi Building.

"the main reason for male impotence (to do with the extraordinary size of our prostate glands apparently, unique to the Japanese race)."

"Good theater shouldn't be comfortable."

"If Tennessee Williams came to Tokyo, do you think he’d go sightseeing?"

[Marie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have finally given up on this book, 3/4 of the way through, which is highly unusual for me.

I really wanted to like it--the plot sounded interesting, about a Japanese woman who grew up in China and became a successful actor there during the war, and then reinvented herself in Japan and also in the U.S. with different identities throughout her life. The story is based on the life of the real-life Ri Koran.

However. The author, famous Japan expert Ian Buruma, uses three different male narrators to tell her story. The effect is that the reader never really gets very close to Yamaguchi Yoshiko...because of the distance created by this type of narration. Buruma also throws in tons of minor characters, and frankly, I just had a hard time staying interested toward the end.

The novel is divided into three parts, and I read through the first two and began scanning through the third one when I finally decided to give up.

I did leave it with two stars, however, because I'm interested in almost anything about Japan and China...and I found it intriguing to read about life in Japan during the occupation.

But this could have been done so much better. I agree with Japan resident and author Suzanne Kamata's review of this book...the only reason I took a chance on it was because of my interest in Japan and China. Unfortunately, I regret that I wasn't reading something more captivating!

[Misha Kendis · Rating 2 out of 5]

After investing three days in to reading this book, I can truly say that the idea of the book was quite interesting and good. However, Buruma failed to convey a powerful message throughout the story. The beginning third was indeed well written and hooked the reader immensely. The second third I believe was quite good, and gave a different perspective on American foreigners entering in to Japan. The beginning of the third section started okay and then it flew down to rock bottom from there. I don't know what happened, but this one section was impossible for me to read and took an enormous amount of concentration and force to stumble through. The text introduced multiple irrelevant factors, bouncing around a multitude of points, and not emphasizing the most significant segments of the story. The whole title of "The China Lover" stopped making sense and just lingered on like a badly supported thesis statement for a research paper. It would have sufficed for the first section, but from there on it was a completely trivial title. Nevertheless, incredibly disappointed by the ending, I rate this with two stars as I can not judge the story overall by my final impression but by my overall experience with this novel.

[Katherine Zeis · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was less about Ri Koran than it was about several men whose lives she touched. The book is told from the point of view of three men, two Japanese and one American. I learned so much about my culture, my country's history, and Japanese culture. The book made me question the foundations of my culture and beliefs that I've held forever. This without fawning over Japanese culture or implying that Eastern or Western culture is superior. It taught me so much, and I didn't even like any of the main characters. I definitely recommend it, and I actually can't wait to read it again.

[عائشة عبد الله · Rating 4 out of 5]

رواية جميلة تدور في أجواء حرب وتتحدث بشكل عام عن علاقة السينما بالحرب والتأثير المتبادل، فلسفة 3 رجال كلٍ من منظوره الخاص، في القسم الثاني من الرواية شعرت ببعض الملل بسبب تكرار بعض الأفكار ولكن فلسفة الكتاب وتأملات الرجال الثلاثة تستحق التفكر والقراءة.
هل الإنتماء للبلد الذي ولدت فيه؟ أم للبلد الذي رفع اسمي عاليا؟
أسئلة كثيرة تدور في البال جراء قراءة هذه الرواية، والجميل فيها والمميز أنك تقرأها من وجهة نظر عدة أشخاص ومنظور مختلف لأحداث متتالية.

[automidori · Rating 4 out of 5]

My number one expectation of reading this book was to know about Yoshiko Yamaguchi, be it true or fictional or both. However, even the first chapters didn't seem so. Yet, I enjoyed it. Okay, this is about China, as the title suggests, I told myself. Going on further, oh no, it is not the love of China or a Chinese lover. Yet, I was captivated by the way the author described the occasions. I had been kept wondering how brilliantly Ian Buruma combined fact and fiction. What an art! I no longer cared about my first intention reading this book. I read every word until the end of Part Two. Until then, it had been five stars for me.

Part Three was like lining up on a long queue to the exit gate after getting off from a roller coaster or a merry-go-round. I kept on checking my Kindle for how many percent left was there.

I also wonder why sometimes it's written "Yamaguchi-san", sometimes "Yamaguchisan"; Sometimes "Banchan", but most of the time "Ban-chan"? There can be Yamaguchi-san and Yamaguchisan within a single paragraph. In spite of being in the midst of rushing to the exit, I read those parts over, trying to figure out the author's implication of making the differences. Yet, I have not succeeded.

Why did I bother about that? First, because there should be a standard of writing romaji. But on top of that, I had been having fun with the twisted words and expressions. These different writings of "san", "chan", "sensei", might be part of that, too. Also, why there's no "san" for the other Japanese names?

The narrator of Part Two is pictured as an American but seems to see Yoshiko or Yamaguchi-san later in Part Three, from the perspective of a native Japanese which explains why he is said to be Japanophile. On the contrary, in Part Three, I had to remind myself from page to page, that the narrator here is (supposed to be) a native Japanese, born in Japan, brought up in Japan, studied in Japan. It feels so much like a non-Japanese telling about "Yamaguchi-san". Feels weird. Remind me a hundred times this is fiction. Yet, a native stays a "native", I bet. The narrator's background of Part Three is pictured the total opposite of Yoshiko Yamaguchi's. I wonder whether the author is aware of this. Sato is not Yamaguchi.

[Antonia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cu o abilitate extraordinară, autorul navighează prin decenii de istorie, amintind, în această carte, de războaie, de puterea mafiei chineze, de crimele organizate, de consumul drogurilor. Totodată, se pune un mare accent pe dorința câtorva oameni de a aduce pacea între China și Japonia, aceștia făcând numeroase eforturi pentru ca Asia să devină un continent pașnic. Cele două state se luptau pentru cucerirea regiunii Manciuria.
Pe acest fundal, apare Yoshiko Yamaguchi, o japoneză extrem de frumoasă, talentată, inocentă. Cântăreață și actriță fiind, ea se vede nevoită să se transforme într-o chinezoaică, astfel încât filmele în care joacă să fie puntea de legătură între cele două mari state. Va fi cunoscută ca Ri Koran, iar datorită muncii ei, China a devenit, în ochii japonezilor, o țară fermecătoare.
Devine clar faptul că despre ea va fi vorba în toată cartea, viața ei fiind povestită din perspectiva a trei bărbați: un japonez, Sato Daisuke, un american, Sydney, și un alt japonez, Sato Kenkichi.

Deși tânără, talentată și având o carieră strălucitoare în domeniul cinematografic, mie Yoshiko îmi inspiră compasiune. Mi se pare că nu mai știe cine este. Mi se pare că, odată adoptate numele de Ri Koran (chinezesc) și Shirley Yamaguchi (american), își reneagă originea și numele japoneze. Se pierde.

Cred că ultima parte mi-a plăcut cel mai mult. Întâlnirea dintre Yoshiko și Sato Kenkichi a fost revelatoare pentru amândoi. Relația profesională dintre ei este uimitoare. Cred că abia acum Yoshiko și-a găsit cu adevărat vocea.

Ofer 4⭐️ cărții. A nu se înțelege că nu este o lectură de 5⭐️, doar că, pe alocuri, am simțit-o greoaie, stufoasă, poate oferind mult prea multe detalii de care m-aș fi putut lipsi cu ușurință, apăsătoare.

[تهاني حمد · Rating 4 out of 5]

إلى كل شخص مهتم بالثقافة الأسيوية وخاصة في اليابان والصين
إلى عشاق السينما من هوليود إلى الصين العظيمة واليابان


إليكم هذه الرواية الخارجة عن المألوف ...

هذه الرواية المليئة بالأحداث المقسمة إلى ثلاث أقسام

القسم الأول تقع أحداثة في فترة غزو اليابان واحتلالها للصين 1940
تقع أحداث القسم الأول في الصين ومنشوريا

أما القسم الثاني تقع أحداثة في فترة الحرب العالمية الثانية وهزيمة اليابان وسقوطها تحت أيدي الجيش الأمريكي بالقنبلتين النوويتين في التاريخ


والقسم الأخير تقع أحداثه في بيروت مابين سجن رومية وبين مخيم اللاجئين الفلسطينين في بيروت وبين طوكيو

أعتقد بعد قراءتي للكتاب أن بطلة القصة هي ري كوران ، أو شارلي ياماغوتشي أو يوشيكو ياماغوتشي التي هي فعلاً شخصية حقيقة في التاريخ

يقول الكاتب في نهاية الكتاب ، أن هذه رواية خيالية مرتكزة على أساس من أحداث تاريخية ، بعضها مختلق وبعضها الآخر قد جرى فعلا .


أعتقد أن وجود التاريخ في الرواية هو ما جعل منها رواية أشبه بالسيرة الذاتية أو كمرجع لفترة زمنية من التاريخ ، وهو ما جعل الرواية قوية ومبنية على أساس متين،إحاطت الكاتب العميقة الوجدانية بالبلدان والثقافات الآسيوية ، تجعل من هذه الرواية متعة خالصة . والجميل أيضاً أني تعرفت كثيراً عن الثقافة السينمائية عن المخرجين والممثلين وكيفية أداء الأدوار وطريقة صناعة الأفلام في تلك الفترة ، على الرغم من الكاتب قد أوضح وبين أن هذه رواية خيالية ولكنني وجدتها خالية من الخيال وكلها حقيقة ، تأثرت بهم كثيرا وتمنيت لو أنني كنت موجودة معهم خلال مغامراتهم ، أكثر شخصية وددت مشاهدتها هي النجمة السنمائي العالمية ري كوران .




" لو كنت للحظة ، يا صديقي العزيز
استطعت القيام بالتّطلع معك
إلى أزاهير الكرز البري
على الجبل الرفيق الرواسي
لما كنت في ما أنا فيه من الشعور بالضيق هكذا "


#مانايوشّو

[Cititoare Calatoare · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ian Buruma incearca sa redea o biografie fictiva a unei actrite reala si cred ca ii reuseste intr-un fel.
Yoshiko Otaka ( Yamaguchi ) originara din Japonia, ajunge sa fie cunoscuta ca Ri Koran si joaca in filme de propaganda in timpul celui de-al doilea razboi Chino-Japonez (1937-1945). Evolutia acesteia si viata actritei, luxul si celebritatea, detalii politice sau culturale din China si Japonia, lupta pentru supravietuire, toate sunt redate cu lux de amanunte.
O carte buna dar care devine obositoare, fiind sufocata de prea multe detalii despre absolut orice. Chiar daca totul este bine documentat, risti sa pierzi firul actiunii in cazul in care nu esti foarte atent. Un roman cu un subiect interesant dar scris intr-un mod greoi si uneori plictisitor.

[Bea · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had to abandon this book. The author is clearly enamored of his own prose and observations about life in China during the Japanese occupation. I stopped in the middle of the first section, I believe other sections are set in different times and places so I can't comment - though I can easily imagine more of the same. There was no real story line. There was simply the narrator commenting on what was happening in his life and making very detailed descriptions of stereotypical other characters. The descriptions of female characters finally grossed me out so much I had to quit. Body parts and sexual objects. Barf.

[Charlie Canning · Rating 4 out of 5]

With few exceptions, people who write great fiction do not write good non-fiction. And the converse is also true: people who write great non-fiction do not usually write good novels. As Ian Buruma is a great writer of non-fiction with a special talent for imposing order on extremely complex subjects, one turns to his fiction with a certain amount of hesitation. Will he be able to pull it off?

The China Lover is set in the familiar territory of China and Japan. Since Buruma knows both places well and, as always, has done his research, the doubts that arise are largely technical ones: Will the characters come off as editorial mouthpieces or human beings? Will Buruma try to recreate the past as accurately as possible or just tell a good story?

The first problem that becomes apparent is the limitation of the first-person narrator. The guy that Buruma has chosen to open the novel can't write as well as Buruma can. This sounds like a logical impossibility, but it isn't. And although the use of a limited narrator does help to flesh out the character of impresario Sato Daisuke, it hardly compensates for the loss of Buruma.

The China Lover is a fictionalized account of the life of actress and singer Yamaguchi Yoshiko. Although Yamaguchi was born to Japanese parents in Manchuria in 1920, she went by the name Li Xianglan (pronounced Ri Koran in Japanese) and many people both in China and abroad assumed that she was Chinese. Her early films were mostly propaganda vehicles to promote the virtues of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. Ri Koran soon became the poster girl for Japan-Manchuria friendship and her films and songs were immensely popular in China and Japan.

Throughout the first part of the book there are frequent references to Japan's mission to liberate Asia from Western imperialism. Fortunately, the narrator is cynical enough to see that the colonization of Manchuria and the occupation of Shanghai are just another form of domination. It was thought that with other Asians as the masters, the whole mercantile business of trade and development would be more palatable to the Chinese. Unfortunately, most of the Chinese didn't see it that way. If anything, they grew to resent Japan far more than they had the British a hundred years earlier.

The narrator of Part Two is based on Donald Richie and here Buruma is on much surer ground. The voice is more confident and the style - like the style of Richie's Japan Journals: 1947-2004 - is pithy and assured.

Narrator Sidney Vanoven comes to Japan from Bowling Green, Ohio to work in the Information Bureau at the General Headquarters of SCAP in Tokyo right after the war. Once again, the mission is one of propaganda and the American version is every bit as heavy-handed as the Japanese one had been. Vanoven works as a film censor whose instructions are to see to it that the ideals of democracy are promoted in Japanese films. But Vanoven is too interested in Japanese films as they are to want to ruin them with formulaic Hollywood story lines and "brass brand materialism." He is soon fired.

Now that the war is over, Ri Koran has returned to the land of her parents and begun her second incarnation as Yamaguchi Yoshiko. Yamaguchi meets Vanoven and they develop a friendship. As with the first part of the book, the Vanoven narrative focuses on what is happening in Yamaguchi's life. Her career and personal life are chronicled. We read of her films, adoring fans, marriage to Japanese American sculptor Isamu Noguchi, and of her third incarnation as Hollywood actress Shirley Yamaguchi.

Part Three begins with yet another narrator, a young Marxist filmmaker named Sato Kenkichi who was raised by his mother in Misawa, a small town in Aomori Prefecture that hosts a U.S. military base. His mother runs a small movie theater there that caters to the U.S. military and Sato is uncomfortable with both the town's provincialism and the indignities associated with hosting a foreign power. When he leaves Misawa for Tokyo to attend university in the years following the student riots of 1960, Sato has all the makings of a young radical.

In Tokyo, Sato takes up with an interesting group of people. One friend named Okuni is involved with staging highly imaginative dramatic productions all over Tokyo. Another friend produces soft porn films that combine social and political commentary with exactly six-minute segments of sex. The idea is that the political - rather than the sexual - becomes subliminal.

Sato begins working with Yamaguchi Yoshiko to write and produce some television programs on Viet Nam and the Palestinians for Japanese housewives. While the programs are successful, Sato's time in Beirut and his radical sympathies soon lead him to join the Japanese United Red Army with rather predictable consequences. Yamaguchi goes on to yet another career - this time as a member of the Japanese Diet.

In an attempt to draw all of the threads of the novel together, Buruma closes with a rumination on the power of images - especially the images in films - to take on a life of their own. For the main character of The China Lover and the three narrators, the act of making and watching films is both creative and destructive. Like propaganda, films can be used to sell many things. But they can also be used for art. And in The China Lover Buruma the non-fiction writer shows that he can write a very good novel.

[Mark Havenhand · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent - an amazing story entwined with real events - had me searching google for the places and people involved. Took a bit of perseverance and its not always an easy read but what fascinating lives and loves. Ian B must be a genius to have put this together.

[Trudy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked the 1st 2 thirds of this book, which is written in 3 parts, but the 3rd part was too political for my taste.
However it is well written, and is fiction based on historical facts.

[maddie · Rating 3 out of 5]

i wasn’t a fan of the narrator in this book, i didn’t like the way he spoke about certain characters
the structure was also a bit odd

[Karen Kao · Rating 2 out of 5]

Buruma is a better historian than fiction writer.

[Juha · Rating 4 out of 5]

A work of fiction, this interesting novel follows the real-life Japanese star Yoshiko Yamaguchi through the eyes of three men who are all captivated by her. The first part of the book takes place in China during the Japanese occupation before and during the Pacific War. Born in 1920 in the Japanese puppet state, Manchukuo, Yamaguchi is fluent in both her native language and Chinese. Blessed with exotic beauty and a lovely singing voice, she is soon to be used by the Japanese military propaganda machinery as a singer and actor in movies propagating the benevolence of the occupation to the occupied lands. By design of her militaristic masters she is required to hide her Japanese origins and ends up playing the part of a Chinese woman falling in love with handsome and good Japanese officers over and over again. Her rising star and success in Mukden and Shanghai under the name Ri Koran is witnessed by a kindly Japanese man working as producer in the film industry who knows her real identity. Highly critical of his militaristic compatriots, Mr. Sato’s fortunes wax and wane in the treacherous wartime China but he remains always protective of Ri Koran who herself grows used to her own power over men of many walks of life.

Once the war is over, the heroine returns to Japan with dreams of hitting the big time in USA. She reinvents herself as Shirley Yamaguchi, playing the role of a beautiful Japanese woman this time falling in love with American soldiers in the movies. Her transformation is observed by a young homosexual fan from Ohio serving in the film censorship department of General MacArthur’s occupation forces. He watches Shirley’s debut on the Ed Sullivan show in a New York apartment in a party where the famous Japanese-American sculptor Isamu Noguchi is present. In real life, Noguchi and Yamaguchi fell for each other and were married in 1951. The second part of the book circles around Yamaguchi’s American ambitions, her tumultuous marriage with Noguchi in the coastal former capital of Kamakura, and the decadent world of occupation Tokyo where the often moronic American officers try to change the country’s culture in their own moralistic ways (one can’t help noting a certain resemblance to later doomed projects to democraticise Iraq and the rest of the Middle East).

In the third and final part of the book, Yoshiko Yamaguchi has again transformed herself. Having married an up-and-coming diplomat, Yamaguchi renewed her commitment to the plight of the developing countries and oppressed people around the world turning herself into a popular TV journalist. Her intentions as pure as always and her heart in the right place, she again naively allowed powerful men to manipulate herself. She was charmed by men like Yasser Arafat, Kim Il Sung, Colonel Gaddafi, even Idi Amin, whom she met through her wide travels as a journalist. This time her story is related through a Japanese Red Army member lingering in a Lebanese jail.

Ian Buruma, a professor at New York’s Bard College and a renowned scholar of Japanese and Chinese cultural history, has crafted a very interesting story that weaves fact and fiction into a seamless whole. He manages to relate the story to the big historical narrative of Japan from the 1930s to the 1970s, incorporating much of fascinating detail and real-life events (the iconic Noguchi comes across as a self-centred idealist). One of the themes of the book relates to movies, a topic that Buruma knows intimately. Apart from the protagonist being an actress in her first career, all three men whose stories the fiction part of the book tells are movie buffs. Each one of them makes clever cameo appearances in the section that follows their story, but never again do they meet with Yamaguchi: she is done with them by that time. The book also has a constant erotic overtone, without ever becoming overtly explicit (well, not too crudely explicit at least).

Yoshiko Yamaguchi’s life has been a long and eventful one. She reinvented herself several times, from a Chinese singer and actress to a Japanese-American one, to a TV journalist and, finally, to a national politician in Japan. In 1974 she ran successfully for the Japanese Diet, where she was initially sponsored by the notoriously corrupt prime minister and money politician Kakuei Tanaka. The question whether she was indeed always manipulated by powerful men or whether she used them for her own purposes is probably moot. Most likely, both are true. She is still alive and living in Tokyo at the age of 89.

[Meagan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is certainly not a book for the faint of heart or the thriller genre addicts. Found in an unlikely place,this novel intrigued the eye with a detailed cover and a simple title. Upon greater scrutiny and under the criticism of an aspiring book editor, mwah, this book achieved an unlikely hodgepodge balance of scatterbrained political propaganda and a thoughtful historical account. While there are many a scenes of starving children, raving sexual encounters, and everything in between, the stable, steady pacing might put some to sleep. The novel portrays the changing careers and hurtles of a Japanese actress, turned journalist, turned politician.

Divided into three parts, the “China Lover” by Ian Buruma spins a tale of three men, of different origins and lives, but all with a sex addiction and an obsession with Asian films, who stumble upon Yoshiko Yamaguchi. Known in Japan as the movie star Ri Koran and Shirley Yamaguchi in America, the woman hides behind false names and a list of political film screens to better relations between the “Rising Sun” and China. Her life twists and turns in unexpected ways through unexpected encounters with these three men and ongoing letters between them throughout her life. Between her story, the men weave their own tale among hers. While thoughtful, the perverts give a healthy supply of detail on their own love lives, both straight and gay, which never fortunately coincide with Ri Koran. It reads like a mess between porn and a strong political agenda from left and right wings with a dash of police, gang, and terrorist violence just for fun.

The real China lover, Yoshiko’s gentle and well-meaning nature with a voice like Snow White, is put in a disheartening juxtaposition with the perverts who hogged the spotlight with their cynicism, self-pity, and litany of one night stands. In the beginning the first narrator, a down-to-earth Japanese man who loved China more, spoke of misguided but well-intentioned greatness for Japan. The second narrator, a gay American who felt more comfortable inside kimonos than US jeans, lost touch with reality, but gave a fresh perspective on US and Japanese relations. The third narrative, a self-pitying and aggressive Japanese man turned Palestinian terrorist in the end, forgot the art of subtly and vomited hatred and political extremism onto each page until the very end.
While the points of views come across at times as grinding, the imagery that each narrator makes is exquisite and precise. “A frog in a well” is the endless Japanese state of mind and I can’t help but feel, and I imagine other Americans would agree, that Americans are also guilty of such narrow-mindedness. There is a delicate art between the pages of this book that has to be savored slowly. Even those five words evoke emotion and context that yearn to be mulled over and perhaps expanded upon in later thought. Like the art of haikus, the language is commonplace for the Japanese to be concrete, which is foreign but well received in the US. The appetizers of thought from the three narrators have something to contribute not only to US and Japanese relations, but also to individuals. There is a profound sense of weight with each intertwining story that comes across in these bits of written beauty.

While perhaps Yoshiko’s story, the only real historical one, was drenched in Buruma’s unconsciousness, the author’s dynamic characters made up for the lack of finesse that could have sent this historical fiction to the top. The depth of flavor and different world views makes this read worthy of praise, but could use a heavy hand in tidying up a bit for the mass audience. Buruma’s purpose for the piece is muddled by his own shortfall of creating too many individuals with their own separate agendas. While they’re entirely believable, the true essence of the novel, the dynamic life of a real Japanese woman, comes off as a second-rate afterthought. Perhaps the author wished it to be so. He had greater enjoyment creating these faux encounters with the real movie star that her tale read more like a history book rather than historical fiction. Putting that aside, I crave to listen to Ri Koran’s “China Nights” that was cherished by several nations for decades.

[Aiyana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Truly a fascinating novel. Told in 3 parts, with 3 different narrators, this book explores various social and political perspectives in Asia in the mid 20th century. As these very different men tell their tales, the only things they have in common are their search for authenticity/truth and the fact that their lives interacted with the career of Yoshiko Yamaguchi (also known by many other names at different points in her life).

It was strange for me, as an American, to see the perspectives of the two Japanese men-- their beliefs and interpretation of history so very different from history as I have learned it. I found some aspects of their viewpoints deeply distressing, others intriguing, and still others made compelling arguments. I can't say that I found any of the characters entirely sympathetic, but I do feel that I learned from them all.

Quotes of note:

From Sato Daisuke's narrative-

"...civilization can only come as the result of education, and softhearted educators are seldom effective." p 42

" Trying to change China seemed as futile as attempting to push an ocean liner off course with one's bare hands. Any such endeavor is bound to end in failure. That is the grandeur of China; and the terrible burden of five thousand years of history." p 84

On the attack on Pearl Harbor: "The arrogant white man had been given a bloody nose at last. Now we were fighting the war we should have been fighting from the beginning. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I felt sure that victory would be ours in the end, for we were fighting for justice and freedom, while the imperialists were just defending their selfish interests, like thieves trespassing on a continent that wasn't theirs." p 90

From Sidney Vanoven's narrative--

"Since the concept of sin simply doesn't exist in the Japanese mind, it is, in a profound sense, innocent. It was appropriate to die for the Emperor before 1945, and it was just as appropriate to believe in democracy after the war. One form of behavior is no more or less sincere than the other. In this floating world of illusions, everything depends on the circumstances. You might see this as a philosophy of deceit. I prefer to call it wisdom." p 168

"Everything shifts, everything changes. To accept that is to be enlightened. I cannot claim to have reached that stage of wisdom. I still craved permanence of some kind." p 170

From Sato Kenkichi's narrative --

"I needed to do something, make my mark, leave a dent in the world so people would know I'd been around. But what?" p 314

"In fact, resistance breaks down quite quickly in the face of power and money, which comes down to the same thing of course. Japanese love to submit to power. Only when they can claim to be overwhelmed do they feel free to do as they like." p 316

"This was a society addicted to security, where the salaried rabbits had learned to stop thinking; a society that prized mediocrity, without a sense of honor or higher purpose; a society grown soft and selfish..." p 350

"...the way Japanese minds had been colonized by the authorities was interesting: it was done by turning news into spectacle." p 351

In a letter written by Ms. Yamaguchi (possibly drawn from primary source material??)
"If I were still a journalist, without any responsibility for the politics of our country, I would be as critical of our government as you are. Thinking freely is the writer's prerogative....
"However, now that I am a politician I have to think more about the consequences of my words. People's lives may depend on it. As a politician, it is no good just to be critical from the sidelines; we have to deal with real problems in the real world and come up with solutions. I can no longer afford to be carried away by my heart." p 381-2

"The modern Japanese is nothing but a blind consumer of goods he doesn't need. In the consumer society, even death loses its redemptive force. The death of a consumer is as meaningless as his life." p 387-8

[Adamsd18 · Rating 4 out of 5]

I stumbled upon this book while in the midst of a Japanese-film exploration. I had never read anything by Buruma before, but I think I will in the future. I am fascinated with the second-person POV style. It's difficult to achieve that balance of someone who is both there and not there in the narrative--if that makes sense--and it was fantastic. The narration is what makes this novel so good, I think. The three narrators are all so different but tied together through a few motifs that makes them all flow as one. The China Lover is defiantly complex and thought provoking. That being said, for as interesting as this book was, the instances of sexual-violence, however "minor" they may be written, bother me--which is why it is only a 4-star book for me.

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was most interested in this book because a lot of it takes place in Manchukuo, the pre WW2 Japanese colony in China, i.e., Manchuria. (A lot of Murakami's The Windup Bird Chronicle, also I think Wild Sheep Chase, takes place there, hence my interest.) I will do some investigation to find out more about the real Ri Koran, but I found the first two parts of the book particularly interesting because I found out a lot about Japanese cinema and about the Japanese perception of themselves as pioneers, not conquerors, in China. This does make me want to try to see more Japanese films, of which I have seen virtually none.

The final third of the book seemed contrived to present Yamaguchi's role as a television journalist, but presented both her and international politics as so simplistic that it did not hold up well, and seemed to just be preachy for no good reason.

May 2010 Post Script - Just saw Kurasawa's Scandal, which stars Yamaguchi and Toshiro Mifune. She is quite good in it, also it was great to see her - very pretty, with huge doe eyes, and I realized partway through the movie that she as much as any actress may have been the visual inspiration for Jessica Rabbit.

[Crystal · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is fiction, but proof that truth is stranger than fiction because much of it is based on the life of Yoshiko Yamaguchi. I had seen her movie "China Nights" 支那の夜 in John Dower's film class, and so I had actually written a paper about the "slap scene" that is described here. This novel would have been a great accompaniment to that course!
The book has three narrators, each of whom adds his own interpretation to real historical events, from Japanese-occupied Manchuria through to post-war Tokyo and even 1990s Beirut. I spent a lot of time on the net looking up which events were real and which were pure fiction, and was disturbed to find how many war criminals were key in building modern Japan. Some characters have had their names changed, but if you know a little Japanese history you can tell who they are supposed to be. Isamu Noguchi does not come off too well.
The characters overlap and often have similar names, so I ended up rereading a large part and keeping a list - but maybe that's because I care to much about the history side of it.