Scribe Us The Mountains Are High.

by Alec Ash

What is it like to radically change your life? Writer Alec Ash meets the Chinese who are doing just this, ‘reverse migrating’ from the cities to the remote countryside of southwest China — and joins them himself, in an extraordinary and inspiring journey of self-discovery.


In 2020, Alec Ash left behind his old life as a journalist in buzzy Beijing, and moved to Dali, a rural valley in China’s Yunnan province, centred around a great lake shaped like an ear and overlooked by the Cang mountain range. Here, he hoped to find the space and perspective to mend heartbreak after a broken engagement and escape the trappings of fast-paced, high-pressured city life.

Originally home to the Bai people, Dali has become a richly diverse community of people of all ages and backgrounds, with one shared goal: to reject the worst parts of modernity and live more simply, in tune with the natural world and away from the nexus of authoritarian power. It is into this community that Alec embeds himself, from political dissidents to bohemian hippies, charting his first year of life in Dali among these fascinating neighbours.

The Mountains Are High is a beautifully written, candid memoir about the catalysts for change and personal development that comes from taking a leap of faith, and how remodeling your attitude to conventional success can genuinely transform your life. As one of the ‘new migrants’ tells Alec when he arrives: it is easy to change your environment, far more difficult to change your mind.

Genres: China, Nonfiction, Travel, Memoir, Asia, Biography Memoir

272 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2024

About the author

Alec Ash is a writer and journalist in Beijing, author of Wish Lanterns, literary nonfiction about the lives of six young Chinese published by Picador in 2016.

His articles have appeared in The Economist, Dissent, BBC, Prospect, Foreign Policy and elsewhere. He is a contributor to the book of reportage Chinese Characters and co-editor of the anthology While We're Here.

Born in England, Ash studied English literature at Oxford, where he edited The Isis magazine and hitchiked to Morocco. After graduating he taught in a Tibetan village in west China before moving to Beijing in 2008.

In 2012 he founded a 'writers' colony' of stories from China at the Anthill. He is a regular blogger for the Los Angeles Review of Books and has interviewed over sixty authors about their literary influences at Five Books.

In his free time he enjoys playing piano, doing qigong and writing about himself in the third person.

Reviews

[Fin · Rating 3 out of 5]

(Read this just before and just after I visited Yunnan- writing this in Kunming airport v hurriedly rn so future me don't judge how mid this is.)

There are a lot of fascinating details about Dali here, which is a beautiful place I'd love to spend more time in. The best of this book is in Ash's conversations with the people who live here, and in his overview of the incredibly varied ways in which people find meaning outside of the norm. It also made me really forcefully want to quit my job too, which is absolutely a positive.

These types of book tho... the perfectly-pitched 250page travel/self-discovery memoir-cum-reportage. I know that's how you get published, and I also understand its just as much a neutral literary form that can be good or bad as, idk, a sonnet is. But something about these all too pristine books rubs me the wrong way. The structure is so artificial - the way we have to read about Ash getting therapy to overcome his mental blocks, which the reader glides through on the back of smooth speedy prose with no real issues encountered, feels almost like sidestepping real truth, or maybe boiling it down until any flavour is removed. There's no sense that the therapy won't work perfectly, that this rural life won't help him find an easy new happiness and tempo and outlook. Every little interesting encounter, event, or interview with a local congeals into a cliché one-liner about "finding community in togetherness" or "to let go, we must let it out". I know I sound like the worst kind of pretentious ideologue demanding that every book be as ambitious and strange as ulysses but, idk, I got the feeling from about page 10 the book could have been finished by an AI, with a few gaps of rural colour to be added in by personal experience. Anyway I sound like a twat, it was a good book and I'm glad I read it and I'm sure if I hadn't been reading Kafka at the same time I would have felt a lot less antagonistic to its form/structure/vibe/place in the literary market.

[Tom Pellman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Alec Ash retreats to a village near Dali, Yunnan province, to heal and recharge after years of chaotic urban life in Beijing. His own trajectory mirrors a growing number of disaffected city dwellers who arrive in Dali seeking freedom, escape (some good, some bad), less stress, and a deeper connection to nature. Ash is no hermit. He spends his days roaming the surrounding environs, profiling the quirky personalities and micro communities that thrive in such a beautiful, low-cost, and unbothered place. He takes long walks and writes lovely lyrical descriptions of the landscape, which creates a nice, timeless counterpoint to the novel subcultures that spring up and fade away.

The mountains are high, and the emperor is far away - so the saying goes. This lack of bureaucratic oversight (Dali seemed especially left to its own devices during the COVID Era, when this book is set) lets Ash and his fellow explorers seek personal change/growth from an endless menu of external stimuli. Yet the mountains within are higher still. Personal change, both for Ash and his subjects, seems elusive until they go more deeply (or perhaps climb higher) inward. This process for Ash is uneven, which feels realistic and true. When the dust settles, it is nature, community, and spirituality that provide the most comfort and guidance to Ash. And while these elements may be discovered in places like Dali, they are not physically tied there; we take take them with us when we leave.

Highly recommend this book for anyone curious about odd subcultures in China or anyone who fantasizes about what it would be like to drop of the rat race and take a deep breath of fresh air.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Probably more of a 2.5.

Hmm. This was fine, I guess? Overly descriptive and repetitive for what it is. I guess it’s hard to find community among a bunch of people who are mostly new to the area and searching for a similar thing to you.

[Brecht Reintsema · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very interesting concept that didn't really live up to its ideal but was enjoyable nonetheless.

I encountered this book in the travel section of a bookstore and was intrigued by its premise (and cover): a daily-life memoir of someone who just moved from the city to a small village in China, describing one year following the seasons.

It has profound and poetic passages on loss and growth and isolation and connection. Descriptions of Chinese society with the rat-race of getting richer but not happier, and the interesting characters that Alec meets in this 'recluse' village. All the while not blindly romanticizing the 'reverse migration' from the cities to the countryside, instead emphasizing the problems of gentrification, tourism (selfie farms were a new concept to me) and escapism.

Sadly though, this book was really repetitive. The message, both of the author's personal development as well as the interesting setting of Dali village, could have been better executed in about half of this book even if it's already a short read. That might be slightly exaggerated but you get the point. And while some passages were beautifully written, others were just a little bit cringey. Also, didn't love the role drugs played in this story, although it was an interesting insight into a sort of hippy counterculture which can also exist in China.

All in all, I can still recommend it if you're intrigued by the premise, but don't expect this to be life changing.

[Melanie Glass · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first visited Yunnan province 30 years ago and then returned just over 19 years ago, so I immediately felt a sense of connection to the setting for this book.

The book weaves the story of the author retreating to Dali after heartbreak, with the stories of others who have left their careers, relationships, or circumstances to seek a new way of living in Dali.

All of this is told through the lens of the Chinese calendar, with its many festivals, which i found really enjoyable. As the seasons unfold so we discover more about the characters, the place, the surrounding countryside - and the healing the author discovers through his time 'lying flat' in Dali.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to like this more than I did, and I can’t put my finger on why I didn’t.

I really enjoyed his first book, he’s a great writer, and since part of me also wants to run away to the mountains, I love the topic. I found this to be a little repetitive, and at times I found my attention wandering … it’s hard to combine a deeply personal story with the stories of others and also try to say something about society at large, so maybe the focus of this one needed to be a bit more refined?

[Mbogo J · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was the second time in a short span of time where I have used an author's previous work that I absolutely adored as a yardstick on whether or not to read their current production. I have been dissappointed on both occasions.

While I adored Wish Lanterns: Young Lives in New China and thought it to be one of the best books I had read that year, this book is no Wish Lanterns. My problem with it wasn't the writing, rather the content. Alec recently broke up with his fiance and chose to go to a rural mountanious community in Dali to nurse his sorrows and get away from it all. Not a bad premise but I couldn't relate, maybe people going through a break up will, also it is a well known story line, Eat pray love made a lot of money from this vein and this book was not treading on new ground. It felt a lot like someone telling you of a profound dream they had the other day and while to them it is profound, to you it is just a story. Maybe the potential reader will feel different.

[Rocco craven · Rating 3 out of 5]

The early stages of hit all the escapist desires I was feeling, its explanation of youthful disenchrachisement in China felt so on the pulse. Phrases like ‘post materialist urban malaise’ got me excited for a rock and roll social political critique. I loved the emotionally in tune nature of his writing and the meditative atmosphere but I wish it had more narrative drive. The tangental descriptions of local politics and characters lost me.
Defo could’ve been a 4 star but I want something with more personal style.

[Bailey Brown · Rating 5 out of 5]

First things first with this book: Alec Ash can write. If for no other reason than an appreciation for language, this book is worth the investment of time.

But, of course, it is so much more, as well. This book took me to a place I've never been, had not previously given much thought, even - Yunnan Province, China, and the city of Dali and surrounds. There, amidst picturesque mountains, forests, streams, and ancient villages, cluster refugees from urban malaise, societal pressures, and the creeping dread of existential loss that often attends the urban rat race.

Ash takes us on a tour of the people he met, their beliefs, religions, philosophies, and practices. From the rave parties where people loose themselves in the sensual ecstasy of dance and intoxication to the ascetic monks who's entire existence is like one long, continuous meditation, we explore many paths to truth and serenity.

Ash is deeply self conscious of change, and the role that people like himself play in bringing some of that change, and equally respectful of the cultures and lives he presents.

For many of us in the West, much of what we know of China comes from the actions and messages of the Chinese government. Ash presents us with a view of the Chinese people, who are, perhaps like people everywhere, just people, seeking, and occasionally finding, peace.

[Glen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I initially purchased The Mountains Are High: A Year of Escape and Discovery in Rural China, driven by my unfulfilled desire to visit Dali, a jewel in Yunnan Province's crown that had long eluded my extensive travels across China. However, what I found was a work that far exceeded my expectations.

Set against the vibrant backdrop of a rapidly changing Beijing, the author, with whom I shared a temporal overlap in the city from 2008 to 2020, vividly captures the transformation of the Chinese capital. He chronicles the shift from a dynamic, buzzing metropolis to a politically tightened environment, reflecting the broader changes sweeping across the country.

After a failed engagement, the author seizes the opportunity to follow friends to Dali, affectionately dubbed "Dalifornia." This laid-back town, nestled in the heart of the Bai minority's homeland, offers a stark contrast to the frenetic pace of Beijing. Dali's walled old town is a charming enclave of hippyish cafés and cobbled streets, set against the breathtaking backdrop of the Cangshan mountain range and the expansive Erhai Lake, where locals fish with trained cormorants.

The town's bohemian allure draws an eclectic mix of alternative types from major cities, with writers and musicians seeking creative rejuvenation. Amidst this setting, Chinese dream of opening cafés and learning to fire-juggle, adding to the town's unique charm.

Despite its appeal, Dali remains deeply rooted in its rural traditions. Renmin Lu, the town's main street, epitomizes the imagined Chinese road, with terraced houses, decorative shutters, and minority women in traditional dress selling their produce. Towering over this picturesque scene are the mist-shrouded mountains, imbuing the town with a timeless beauty.

The author's lyrical prose seamlessly weaves together elements of Chinese history, poetry, and culture, creating a rich tapestry of life in Dali. Moving there in 2020, his narrative serves as a poignant time capsule of the Covid-19 pandemic in China. While major cities were engulfed by lockdowns under Xi Jinping's stringent policies, rural Yunnan provided a serene escape from the chaos.

What truly brings this book to life are the vivid portraits of the people the author encounters, each seeking reinvention and escape from the urban rat race. From kombucha makers to bisotti sellers, their stories are interwoven with the author's own journey. Noteworthy among them is Nutshell, an ex-CCTV documentary producer, who embodies the quest for meaning through country living.

Yet, reality inevitably intrudes upon this idyllic setting. Financial worries emerge, and dreams of running a bed and breakfast fade as travel restrictions take their toll. The author's encounters with individuals who grow and enjoy marijuana further highlight Dali's distinct rejection of mainstream Chinese politics and cultural norms.

The author provides fascinating insights into the rural-urban shift in modern China, exemplified by those seeking to convert their urban Chongqing hukou to Dali, reflecting a broader desire for a slower, more meaningful pace of life. He paints a vivid picture of days spent cloud-watching, sipping locally-grown coffee, and learning to bake bread and make jams—a compelling invitation to join this tranquil lifestyle.

Divided into sections by season, The Mountains Are High beautifully illustrates how nature influences life in Dali. While traditional Chinese culture may be fading elsewhere, in Yunnan, it remains firmly rooted. Even seasoned Sinophiles will discover new perspectives in this enchanting narrative.

The book also offers moments of levity, such as a village wedding scene where the groom endures firecrackers and eggs—testaments to the unique customs of the region. Additionally, the author's interactions help dispel stereotypes, showcasing the cultural exchange that occurs when East meets West.

Ultimately, Dali is portrayed as a dreamlike escape, yet grounded in the harsh realities of modern China. The author's reflections on the increasing authoritarianism under the guise of pandemic control are chilling and thought-provoking. Featuring sites like Chicken Foot Mountain and Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, the book is a philosophical exploration of life's bigger questions.

The audiobook version, narrated by the author, adds an extra layer of immersion. His eloquent delivery and dramatic flair bring the narrative to life, making it an unforgettable auditory experience that resonates long after the final chapter.

In summary, The Mountains Are High is an essential addition to any China enthusiast's bookshelf, offering a profound and captivating journey through one of the country's most enchanting regions.

[carolyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

before reading this, if you had told me that dali, a city in rural china, is a psychedelic rave haven that houses the kind of environmentalist collectives, coworking spaces, and web3 conferences that you'd find in SF or toronto...i would never have believed you. this place is home to a cast of very funky people: a prolific amount of chinese stoners dropping acid on the daily, an ex-tiananmen square resistance leader, a christian beekeeper, rockstar-turned-monk, and a banker-turned-jianghu that goes by "the As If Master" and founded Don't Care-ism, his very own school of thought (lol). alec ash somehow found some of the most interesting and wacky people in the entire universe in this one city. these people are so ??? and complicated that they seem made up, but then again, i don't know if anyone could have made up some of these people...

this memoir could be dense at times since it was actually about the writer's own healing journey (but tbh i was reading it solely for china content). however, it was 100% worth reading just to learn about the cultural landscape of this one (1) city... i'm so interested in its frequent comparisons to peach blossom spring (桃花源记) and its historical role in safeguarding political criminals or counterculture rebels that want to resist or escape state surveillance, regulations, societal norms, etc.. i’m really interested in the psychogeography of cities, and i get that dali has been a popular tourist spot for a while and maybe i'm just an uncultured abc, but i had never really heard of dali until recently, and its cultural profile is just insanely cool. i mean dalifornia is fr tang ping 躺平 capital...

other topics about dali that were really interesting: veganism and vegetarianism, environmentalist ventures, marijuana, psychedelics, rave culture, local temples and monasteries, the diversity of religion and thought (taoism, buddhism, islam, zoroastrianism, the baha'i faith, christianity, hinduism, sufism, etc).

-- including these quotes for future me's reference:
the xianxia fan that i am was happy to read about Dream Hermit, the owner of a business that teaches people how to lucid dream. while lucid dreaming, Dream Hermit "has built entire worlds, like a god, returning to them each night, picking up the work as if waking was the interruption. In one dream, he lived in a cave for 300 years as a Taoist eternal, looking down into a pool of water through which he could watch the mortal world... For Dream Hermit, lucid dreaming was his business as well as his passion. One of his private clients was a stock trader in Shanghai, who flew him out to the city for training sessions, in the hope of gaining a fersh perspective on the market during his horizontal hours. Another client was a middle-aged woman with breast cancer who wanted to travel the world in her dreams, holidaying in Paris and Rome at night while her days were filled with chemotherapy. He even offered a couples therapy course, where partners learnt to express their mutual antipathy and suppressed rage in their sleep, instead of fighting in person."

[bookbug · Rating 3 out of 5]

Just as many Chinese harbor a deep-seated fondness for the Peach Blossom Spring, many in the West also hold a special affection for Shangri-La, inspired by Hilton’s novel Lost Horizon, which formed part of Yunnan's initial allure to them.

However, upon arriving in Dali by chance, one quickly realizes that the discrepancies between the novel and reality pale in comparison to the region’s diversity and harmony. Over time, Dali itself becomes another utopia in people's hearts. Whether Chinese or Westerners, many have come here seeking escape and self-discovery: to leave behind an unbearable past, uncover a possible future, and cherish the present they hold.

At the end of 2020, heartbroken and longing to escape the mundane, Alec traveled far to Dali—only to encounter the pandemic. Eventually, he realized that he was, after all, a part of the world, and that isolation from love was not the answer; embracing it again was, much like how seeking an external utopia is less meaningful than returning to inner peace.

Thus, through conversations with Dali’s diverse residents and transient visitors, Alec gained a clear-eyed view of the darker sides of such pursuits: some were escaping not reality, but responsibility; some had found not a utopia, but a business opportunity; and some were chasing not ideals, but a form of freedom defined by going with the flow. In fact, these often became the most entrenched chains and constraints. Alec is not Peter Hessler—his subtle observations about China operate not at the societal level, but in the return to the individual and the inner self.

[Melissa Lim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book at a time when I was also feeling a little lost about life and was hoping that the answers that the author was trying to seek will help me answer mine.

Well. Everyone has different lives. Of course I can’t shift to Dali and go on an adventure and did count on this book to change my life. But reading the book from this perspective definitely increased my rating for the book.

I don’t think I would find the book as interesting or highly rated if I read it at another time in my life. I wouldn’t classify it as a self help book. Neither is this book an expose on Dali. It’s a mix of both, and would likely only satisfy a very specific target group of readers.

Nonetheless, I do think this book is more of way for the author to heal. It’s written more for himself than for the world. And who are we to judge it?

[Yuen Tan · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Dalifornia” is such well-coined term and this book is the experience of one sinophile experience in Dali and the people he met - in search of healing and self-discovery. The writing is honest, non-judgmental, at times a bit self-indulged (of his feelings).

How I wish there is a companion book about living in Chinese urban cities during COVID-19. As in the book, we can see changes in China, including far flung remote areas in Dali. Fleeting and unique records of such moments in personal accounts can be rare.

“For decades I had convinced myself that the solution to pain was always intellectual: if I thought about a problem enough, then I could figure it out; I could fix me… now I was thought to expand into my emotions, and so let them be; to defuse my thoughts and so to let them go.”

[Susie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I actually quite liked this.

Learning about Dalifornia, it's inhabitants and the authors journey, written so beautifully, was a delight. The nature and people descriptions are done with utmost care. It does at times feel more like a personal reflection journal, and his past relationship comes up one too many times for my liking, but overall it was an enjoyable read and I'm surprised to not see it displayed more.

[Min Zha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have been been to Dali three times and am planning to live there for a couple of years with my partner and young daughter in 2026. The book is a great in-depth introduction to what we will find there- I’ve recommended it to my partner as a must read. The personal journey is interesting too, the search for inner peace emblematic of our generation.

[Rong Wu · Rating 5 out of 5]

“At some point, we must all go to the mountains". Heartily and highly I recommend this book. Less for the self-help part (a little bit cliche); but the subject, Dali. If I may, I would recommend a byline for this excellent book: “行到水穷处，坐看云起时” (roughly" by the waters end, sit and watch cloud rising ")

[Mona MO · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is very much like a combination of Peter Hessler and Hermann Hesse: externally, it offers vivid and detailed social observations; internally, it explores a lonely yet rich inner world.

[Caroline Duggan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A lovely and compelling book that combines personal reflection with deep interest in both the people and the landscape that surround the author. I began by, as a reader, being a little irritated by the constant references to self-reinvention, detox and changing your mindset in the first part of the novel, but as the writer changes so too does his language and behaviour, so that by the end of the novel he accidentally or intentionally uses wiser and truer language without the millennial-speak. I really appreciated his vulnerability and how it was this openness to being vulnerable that ultimately transformed him. This book is also a must read for appreciating modern China and how its politics and economics affects the socio-cultural. I look forward to comparing it to his earlier work, Wish Lanterns.

[Bianca Vandenbos · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 2020 Alec Ash left the city life behind as a journalist in the bustling town of Beijing to Dali, a rural valley in China’s Yunan Province. There are mountains and a beautiful lake. Alec had come to Dali to find space and perspective after a heartbreak from a broken engagement & escaping the city life. While in Dali, Alec meets a cast of wonderful characters from political dissidents, those seeking some sort of religious freedom to those living the hippie life. Those in Dali tell Alec, its easy to change your environment but much less easy to change your own mind.


Writing & Important Lessons

Alec has a gift for words. While I was reading this, it flows so beautifully as though it were fiction. I also like how Alec didn’t gloss over that China is a communist country and acknowledged he had to change names of some of the people he met for political and legal reasons. I love the fact that the important lesson is remembering (or perhaps for some learning) that you can change a location, but it’s important not to be running from your problems. Change of scenery is great, but if you don’t work on your mindset, the problems will all remain the same. I also liked how Alec had to learn to love himself instead of depending on others to. If we don’t love ourselves, how do we expect others to love us in return & to love others correctly?


Overall

Overall I’m grateful that I was able to read Alec Ash’s memoir & I can’t wait to read more from him in the future. Thank you Jake Adelstein for introducing us via email and thank you Alec for the pdf copy of your book! I look forward to read more books from you in the future and doing our Q&A!

[Josefa (June.Reads) · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Mountains Are High is a dense and descriptive memoir about rural China. Is one of those countries that I know little about so it was an interesting journey, especially reading the experience throughout the pandemic.

[Duncan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book - I find it moving, genuine and that it took me to another place and experience I’m unlikely to have. This genre is a salve for my soul.