A profoundly moving, thoughtful, sad, and curious account of the people and places that the author once never questioned - her childhood village in rural China - now seen through her adult eyes on a return trip in the early 2000s.
This book brings to the personal level for everyday people the impact of China's policies through the 1960s to today. It isn't critical; it is hardly political in the common sense of the term. Instead, Hong allows the people from her village and her family to speak their own stories and perceptions onto the page. This isn't a novel, it's not journalism, and it's definitely not sociology. What is it?
It's really beautiful and really eerie. It's really wonderful and painful to hear people tell their life stories, in the context of changes happening around them set in to motion years or months ago by a distant government.
I love how each story stands on its own and the author never judges. There is commentary and even a bit of longing for the way things used to be. But it's all done so well. Thoroughly enjoyed the book, and I feel I have a better sense of what life in rural China was, and is, like.
The lack of any written reviews on this platform is shocking to me! “China in One Village” is one of the most dynamic and thoughtful works of narrative nonfiction I’ve ever read. Liang approaches the nation’s most pressing of political quandaries not as one to be explained away through sociological and logistical means. Rather, by “shedding light on individual lives,” and approaching the transformation of “the Chinese village” as a fate which is directly tied to the country’s social and spiritual health, this book exposes a depth and vitality to the issue in a way which has eluded scholarship for decades.
The plain-faced and candid transcripts of conversations had with villagers present an immensely compelling and tangible insight into the lived realities of those whose words have historically been interpreted beyond recognition, caricatured, or perhaps worst of all, neglected entirely. In massive contrast to other works on the topic, the focal point is not Liang’s analysis of the villager’s stories, but the villager’s stories themselves. They stand on their own and act as the novel’s central, authoritative voice.
Furthermore, the sensitivity of Liang’s prose does not just merely complement what could otherwise exist alone, but masterfully elevates the whole of the piece. At points, she reads like Annie Dillard with lines like, “In the autumn, I would lie on the golden-yellow knotweed, thick and strong. I would roll in it, breathing, silent, watching a fire-red cloud in the western sky, imagining it was a horse coming to carry me to distant places.”
At other times, I’m reminded that this is serious, pressing academic literature such as when Liang conducts an interview with the highly regarded Rang County Committee Secretary or when discussing “the general disregard for the sexuality of peasants.” The literary interest to be found in the book’s varying styles and forms is dizzying in the most enthralling of ways.
While I haven’t read the original Chinese, I can say that the result of the translation is superb. It reads as fluidly as any book originally written in English and captures a natural beauty and flow which I feel is too often lost when translating from Chinese (with its a deeply descriptive, metaphorically rich character system) into English.
Obviously, I cannot say enough good things about “China in One Village”
The author returns to her rural village after a long absence to find that life there has changed for the worse. Much of the book features the point of view of various villagers and what would typically be a strength was instead monotonously tedious. It read like a collection of bitter liars contemptuous of all of the other bitter liars in the village. On a few occasions the author interpreted the meanings and motivations of some of the villagers and that was very helpful and interesting but not often enough to prevent the rest of the material from sounding like a typical bad day on social media.
Normally I'd recommend the most recent version of a book for the updates. Not in this case. Here it just means more of this same stuff to read. And here's a spoiler .
I could see the appeal in the book's home country - it lends a voice to the many downtrodden in China - but it just didn't work for me.
Quite a long and detailed look at life in a remote country village, by a former resident. Lots of interviews about past experiences. Pretty terrible life to my eyes. China likes it, has put it on reading list for young. There’s some sense of happy community life, tempered by stories of how they treated one another so brutally in the cultural revolution days.
Great sociological text full of rural Chinese stories. Influenced several filmmakers and authors in China by interviewing rural villagers and presenting their stories with minimal interjection. It really paints a bleak picture at first, polluted towns and local disputes, both that lead to death and despair. At the same time, there's a thread of interdependence and love that ties all of these stories together. The young men go to the big cities so that they can support their poor families. The educated children respect old superstitions in the presence of their elders, like not cremating them, hurting them in the afterlife. It's a nice text with a lot of depth. Would recommend for the person like me who gets confused about bizarre cultural norms in Asia. I feel like there's a lot of overlap with other traditional Asian cultures, despite the highly specific town that the book remains in for 95% of the book.
The book provides a super interesting review of contemporary social issues in China, while narrating the story of a city woman returning to her home village.
Why read this book? Definitely if you are a bit interested in China. Even though it was written over a decade ago and has only just been translated into English, I think it is an illuminating set of insights into rural China. And oddly enough into rural life anywhere. I grew up in country Victoria and on the surface there is practically nothing that you could say is or was similar to life in a central Chinese province. What resonated though was that both Liang and I have “moved away’, become urbanised, been educated, but still have ties back into the communities that we grew up in. This is the village of Liang’s family and forebears. So she might be deemed an “insider” but she’s not. She has that awkward “insider/outsider” status that I also feel when I return to the village (town) of my childhood. At one stage in the narrative she writes about this; about being recognised but not quite trusted, not longer at home in the village despite the fact that her father and many relatives live there and her mother is buried there.
In this book, Liang is exploring the impact of change on a village. Towards the end of the book, she writes: ”We, who represent the national ideology and the intelligentsia, are always using the word “transformation” to describe this rupture [of culture], but in so doing, we neglect the immense damage caused by the “black hole” of this transformation. What I mean by “culture” is not only traditional concepts, morality, and customs; it is also the practical reality of their lives.” I once heard an Australian journo talking about his time as a correspondent there and he said "You need to imagine the country as being like a school - they are simultaneously building the school from scratch but also running a full education program while they build - the speed of change and how people are expected to adapt is extraordinary!"
This is an account of the practical reality of the lives of the villagers including the kind of environmental upheavals caused by development, the flight of young people from the village to big cities, the work of grandparents as they care for grandchildren who can’t be raised in the cities, and decreased engagement in education. It’s about poverty and wealth and how it is created and the internecine politics of local government, of neighbours, and of warring families. Liang interviews many villagers – and much of the narrative is carried by first person stories.
It’s a disturbing read. There is massive disruption of life and of traditional expectations of how society might function. The things I found most disturbing included the lack of support for old people as they retired; that in the past they would have been looked after by one or more of their children (usually the oldest son), but this is happening less and less. The sort of filial piety that used to be the underpinning of this society is shredding. (Though I have to acknowledge that not all aspects of this value system were beneficial – especially in terms of the place of women and women’s rights.) The state provides very limited support for old people. There is a whole cohort of “rear-guard” or left-behind children (liúshǒu értóng), kids left with their grandparents while their parents work in the cities. These kids are often are not engaged in school and not as responsive to parents and grandparents. A country that used to revere education (through Confucianism) has this phenomenon!
The environment is a mess. It’s not surprising given the population pressures. Liang writes very movingly about the poisoning of river systems, and/or the misuse of water, the disappearance of rivers. She writes: “Rivers are the lifelines of a country’s ecology; the guarantee of a nation’s future. Yet, over the past ten years, we have brought them to an early end. We live among riverbeds that are dried up and foul smelling, terrifying and dark. If this doesn’t change, catastrophe is nigh.” On the flip side, more people have access to sewerage systems. They eat better than they used to. I kept thinking of the need for food in such a populated society – and I wanted to know more about what was happening to the amount of food being produced, as people left for the cities. This UN-based site says: “China has succeeded in producing one fourth of world’s grain and feeding one fifth of world’s population with less than 10 percent of world arable land.”
It’s worth quoting this from a reviewer: “Over the past 40 years, China has urbanised at a faster rate than any country in history. By 2035, the government estimates that 70 per cent of the country’s population – around a billion people – will be living in cities. Astonishing, if uneven, economic growth has attended China’s reinvention, but in the decades since the process of reform and opening began, in 1978, the Communist Party has largely failed to address an inconvenient question: if most of China’s people are moving to cities, what happens to those left behind?” (https://www.scmp.com/magazines/post-m...)
It's a question that is also pertinent in Australia as the politics of people who feel left out (often those in rural areas) or powerless, begin to have an effect on how political parties manoeuvre. How do you manage uneven growth – and deal with the feelings of those who have been left behind? It seems like this is less of an issue in China, given the political system there. As Liang puts it, villages like hers feel “no true sense of participation” in the government decisions that are destroying them.
This book has been a best-seller there. “In China the result was a true literary sensation. It sold hundreds of thousands of copies, won many of China’s top literary prizes, spurred imitations and caused a national discussion about the costs of modernization. Liang’s book reflected what she calls a national sense of “psychological homelessness” — a feeling that change has overwhelmed institutions that for millenniums had been the bedrock of Chinese society, especially the family and the village.” (https://www.nytimes.com/2021/06/22/bo...)
That’s an interesting phrase isn’t it - “psychological homelessness”. Many people (millions) don’t feel at home in the cities, and yet they may only return to the village for a few days a year. They often build a house there and leave it unlived in for most of the time. They are disconnected from any community.
The book has been criticised on a couple of fronts. “Liang tells her stories empathetically, saying in the preface that her book “is literature, first and foremost.” At times it reaches that goal. Still, at other times the chapters feel a bit like a laundry list of issues: the environment, children, mental health, crime, politics.” (https://www.nytimes.com/2021/06/22/bo...) Another reviewer felt that she had not adequately described the larger context for decision-making; the impact of central government decisions on village life, the lack of government responsiveness to real problems. It would have been hard to do this (given the nature of publishing in China) and also shifted the focus a little from that intense beam on village life. One reviewer notes: “They’re depressing, these old village stories that repeat over and over again.” No matter how repetitive the themes of these stories may be, the many perspectives make these topics feel fleshed out and allow readers to come to a deeper understanding for what life may be like in rural China. Everyone that Hong interviews has a distinctive perspective, which humanizes these large and complex issues. What were once fragmented statistics, now represents the lived experiences of real people in rural China. Humanization is the true power of this book.” (https://asiamedia.lmu.edu/2021/10/12/...)
And another: “What China in One Village does well, however, is to give voice to the unvoiced — the ghosted villages, the overburdened grandparents, the children who don’t see their parents from year-end to year-end, the crippled survivors of the Cultural Revolution, and the workers straining to make a living in cities that do everything to shut them out.” (https://supchina.com/2021/07/16/china...)
It’s not the best-written book – a little repetitive and would have benefitted a bit by breaking up the text a bit more. Sometimes over-flowery. But really interesting to read these insights into almost (it was written ten years ago and things change fast) contemporary China.
Een boek waar ik echt van genoten heb. Liang Hong beschrijft op diep doorvoelde manier het leven in haar geboortedorp in een veranderend China. Ze doet dit aan de hand van verhalen van dorpsbewoners zelf. Terwijl ik aan het lezen was, had ik steeds voor ogen de dorpen waar ik geweest ben in China, die van familieleden in het Wudanggebergte, dorpen in Zhejiang province of in de omgeving van Shenzhen, en vooral het geboortedorp van mijn echtgenote nabij Wuhan. Wat Liang Hong schrijft is zeer herkenbaar en roept heel terechte vragen op over hoe het leven van die honderden miljoenen mensen op het platteland verder zal evolueren in dit land dat aan een razend tempo blijft evolueren.
Outstanding and in depth work done here. She has really made her village come to life on these pages. She’s critical, sympathetic, understanding and inquisitive. For someone like myself that’s more obsessed with Chinese culture and history by the day, this is a must read.
Fantastic use of primary source interviews, well thought out observations on a subject that even she admits can be very elusive and close-doored. These interviews are so entertaining, delightful and even sorrowful, but always back up her observations and criticisms on a myriad of issues that impact rural life in China’s countryside.
I’ve been moved by the sheer tenacity and strength of the people of her hometown. How they continue to endure and navigate an encroaching city lifestyle, continuously changing government plans and reforms that, while attempting to be beneficial, often lead to isolating many of the individuals it’s set out to assist. It was a joy to read about the successes and failures of how the villagers adapted, or didn’t, to such massive cultural shifts over the decades that were discussed. The village and its residents have lived through so much change; from the days of the cultural revolution of the 60s and 70s, to the reforms and opening up during the 1980s and 90s, right into the 21st century.
I feel that the book ended in the same way it progressed, bitter sweet. The inevitability of an ever encroaching city life, financial burdens, disconnection from traditional home life, the loss of rural values, migrating to the city for work at a younger and younger age, lack of interest in education, the hyper focus on making money, etc. It seems like the government sees the value of the rural population and is trying to prove so by implementing more and more social programs to save it. Yet it still misses the mark. These programs don’t help everyone and can’t help everyone in the current circumstances. If anything, these policies over the years have proven to drive a wedge deeper and deeper between the clans that have been there for generations, ie: the elderly that remain at home in the village and the young that have to migrate to work to send money back. Who are these policies benefitting? There are some of course. But it seems like the vast majority remain stymied and caught in a cycle of working to stay poor. Not being able to succeed in either the city (because of hukou, cultural reasons) as someone from the countryside, or now the countryside itself because of the reasons above. Financial instability, whether by design or circumstance is wiping out the rural way of life. What’s left is a romantic notion of what once was.
This book is, at times, so grim in its content, that I almost gave it up more than once. However, it pays to persevere in spite of the grimness, since the book gives such an insight into the life of rural villages in China as they were around ten years ago. This is a part of China we hear little about in the West, and it's a world we can barely imagine. Even with all the changes and 'modernisations' this world remains something of a mystery; perhaps more so to people used to cities than to rural living, but I think even the latter would find that parts of the book are like reading about something from the middle ages. One of the things I found hardest to take was the aggression that's so much part of the village life: aggression against families who don't belong to your clan, against someone who steps out of line, against someone who disagrees with you, against mothers, fathers, and most especially, daughters-in-law. And aggression by daughters-in-law against everyone. That may be an exaggeration, but in spite of Liang Hong's view of the people she knows, and the warmth that appears at times, it has to be admitted there's a considerable lack of compassion shown for others. Liang brings a relatively dispassionate view to her writing, but not fully so: she's related to many of the people she mentions so that naturally colours her feelings towards them. But equally she's not backward about letting them reveal themselves in all their sordidness. Many things may contribute to this: the increasing tearing away from the land, the way in which the adult children tend to go off and leave their offspring with their grandparents for years at a time, the downgrading of religion as of any importance, the lack of schools, the lack of culture, the sense of being ignored by the Government, or treated badly by it. Certainly the book gives you an insight into a world most of us know little about, and sadly, it seems to be that this world will continue on and continue worsening; hope isn't something that appears much here.
Rural China is described and its people, although generally poor, are much like humans everywhere. The author shares a quote, “Modernization is a classic tragedy. For every benefit it brings, it asks the people to pay with all they hold of value.”
Après un début difficile, le livre commence à se révéler aux alentours de la 100ème page aux travers des histoires de vie (très) souvent tragiques des habitants de Liangzhuang. Un beau portrait de la ruralité chinoise et de ses challenges!
Author returns to her rural village in China and documents through interviews the collapsing rural structures and the movement of young people to cities in search of work.
J'ai vraiment été surpris d'aimer autant cette lecture qui m'a bien tenu compagnie pendant un vol transatlantique! Le livre était assez abordable pour quelqu'un qui ne connaît pas si bien l'histoire chinoise.
J'ai vraiment été surprise par les fortes transformations sociales engendrées par l'industrialisation des dernières décennies décrites dans ce livre. La description du démantèlement des familles causé par les migrations vers les villes et le fait que les paysans qui s'installent dans les villes n'ont pas les mêmes droits que les autre parce qu'il n'ont pas ce qu'on appelle un citoyenneté urbaine (je devrais faire plus de recherche là dessus je ne comprends pas trop), l'application très variable de la loi de l'enfant unique, les politiques qui visent à aider les fermiers mais rendent le travail de la terre non rentable et la fin de l'éducation comme pouvoir de mobilité social m'ont particulièrement choqué. Mais ce que je retiens le plus de cette lecture c'est la grande importance des personnes âgées qui doivent rester dans le village pour cultiver la terre et élever les enfants dont les parents sont partis travailler en ville.
Le livre fait son âge (2010) et parfois l'autrice donne l'impression que le livre est encore plus vieux. Elle note que les jeunes jouent beaucoup en ligne mais maintient fermement que ce sont les DVD qui ruinent la jeunesse. Elle énumère les vices que cause la séparation des couples par les migrations comme étant l'adultère, l'homosexualité, et l'incest... Il me semble que ces trois choses ne devraient pas se trouver sur un pied d'égalité! Aussi bien que l'autrice montre clairement aussi le point de vue des femmes, elle les efface aussi parfois de sa narration. Elle décrit longuement ce qu'elle appelle ''L'attaque de M. Wong contre M. Lang'' et après 3 paragraphes mentionne à la va vite que l'épouse de M. Lang s'est fait couper les doigts. Ça aurait pas mérité de s'appeler l'attaque de M. Lang ET Mme Lang? Elle me semble quand même bien impliquée dans le truc.
Le livre à un côté un peu pessimiste et, même si l'autrice rappelle quand même que tous les changements ne sont pas mauvais, j'ai été en colère contre les mauvaises conditions de vie des gens à de nombreuses reprises. Cette lecture était très informative et assez plaisante, je comprends la popularité de ce livre!
This book offers insights into the environment, families, economics and culture of one village in rural China via interviews with its inhabitants. About 15 years ago, I traveled to Beijing but did not go far out of the city; this book deepened my understanding of the rural people, some of whom I encountered as vacationers at my hotel. (While in Beijing, I bought a folk art 'farmer's painting', a pictorial of farmers harvesting wheat, a soulful piece I love which has hung in my kitchen nook ever since.) Fully understanding the way things work in China is difficult for me, the mix of capitalism with 'Chinese characteristics." I never quite got my head around the frequent military presence, verbal restraint among the people, and yet the 798 arts zone existing as a space of free expression. Same with this book. It has won awards and been a best seller in China. And yet it is critical/candid in describing conditions and systems in the rural villages. Another review explained that the book stops short of detailing and criticizing the policies at the root of disintegrating life in China's rural villages. The Cultural Revolution is mentioned but there's a line there somewhere, one, that as a layperson I don't fully understand, but am interested in. This story shares the changing ecology of the rural landscape, the holes and poor earth due to soil removal for bricks, the dried and decimated natural streams and waterways. It talks of economic realities of poverty, of parents leaving their children with the grandparents in the village as they go off to the city for jobs, returning maybe once a year. It shares impacts of older citizens in the village, older teachers, older administrators and the disconnect with the young. It shares the impacts of Christianity among some families, the challenge of who will care for elders, who will inherit the family land or house and if they want it as daughters-in-law voice other preferences. It talks of the complexity of the layers of life in the village, all of the knots and holes and the everyone out for themselves kind of outlook. Even the author talks of it being hard to understand how things work in the villages, and she grew up there. So that was comforting in a way and yet not! All in all, an interesting read.
An interesting book, full of interesting details. The approach to the material is refreshing and the method of examining one case and extrapolating the findings out to rural China as a whole is an intriguing, if not entirely sound, methodology.
Personal anecdotes and long passages of quotes from interviews were a nice touch, and it made the book feel very personal despite its making far-reaching implications.
I will be looking at reading Leaving Liang Village for the complete picture, as it often felt like stories were incomplete without the narratives of city-dwelling inhabitants. These stories were often only brushed over and parts of the book felt a bit stilted without them.
Liang Hong is an academic living in Beijing who returns to her rural village home for several months in 2009 to write an ethnography. I struggled with this book because while the intro and conclusion make brilliant arguments about rural development and the tragedy of hypercapitalism, the vast middle portion of this book is mostly long, ambling conversations with villagers and occasionally hypocritical commentary from Liang. In short, I found this book to be skimmable and tedious. However, it was worth the read because this is a valuable collection and defense of rural life in an age of increasing urbanization.
A depiction of life in a rural Chinese village from an author who grew up there. Liang Hong shows and tells us how rural roots persist, both emotionally in terms of villagers' sense of belonging and local customs and practically in regard to land rights and services like education. An excellent book for anyone interested in the human side of rural China, Chinese development policy and the issues it has had to address, and the benefits and costs of reform-era Chinese urbanization.