Mao's Last Dancer

Mao's Last Dancer

By Li Cunxin

Whenever I read a book blurb that describes a book as "an extraordinary adventure," or a "captivating journey." I am immediately skeptical. These sorts of catch-all descriptions are so commonplace that they have become trite. They are simply rote platitudes used to get something (anything!) that someone (anyone!) said about the book on the front or back cover in an effort to move stock.

Of particular note is the word "captivating." In the world of literary review it has become the ubiquitous term for anyone determined to get their name on the jacket of a book. It has gotten so bad that I will not read a book if it has the word "captivating" anywhere on the cover (I'll excuse its use on the back, otherwise I'd never read any books at all). I have read enough crappy books deemed "captivating" I could fill a truck. Critics and reviewers have rendered the word entirely obsolete.

Well, almost.

Mao's Last Dancer, is the autobiography of Chinese born ballet dancer Li Cunxin. The first half of the book chronicles his childhood living on a peasant commune in China during the reign of Chairman Mao. The story tells of how he was selected (quite possibly at random) at age eleven from a group of local students to study dance at Madame Mao's Arts Academy in Beijing. It recounts his gradual awakening into the world of dance and his indoctrination into the communist system. The second half of the book recounts events that lead to his defection to the west in 1981, his rise to the top of the world of dance and the fallout of the defection on him, his relationships and his family in China. It's a great book, no doubt. But more than anything, this book reaffirmed my faith in the word "captivating."

To me, a captivating book evokes a sleepless night, stealing seconds, not minutes, to read just a few more paragraphs, creating reasons to sit down in waiting areas in order to read a few pages, endangering my relationships with my wife and daughter, reading while walking and all sorts of other pathological behavior that I do not exhibit while reading other books. A captivating book denotes an almost hysterical compulsion to finish the book. It doesn't necessarily mean the book is good, it's just captivating. That describes Mao's Last Dancer perfectly. I desperately needed to know how things turned out. Whether he would ever see his niang and dia again. Whether he would be allowed back into China.

I admit it, I simply could not put this book down. Part of the reason is that Li Cunxin comes across as a genuine, humble man who truly loves his family and is devoted to his career. He seems like the sort of person you'd like to know and the book is written as if he's already met you and is telling you a story over dinner. His story has the ability to make you cry no matter how it is written, and it does, in many places. I admit it.

Also, it's unique. It's one thing to read about life in Maoist China, its another to read one person's account of life inside a commune during the Cultural Revolution. It is quite another to read an account of someone growing up under such oppressive conditions to become one of the world's most famous people in a particular discipline. When you get down to it, Li Cunxin's story is literally one in a billion. To escape Maoist China and become one of the world's great ballet dancers is a astounding. Following his story as he slowly discovered the truth about his own country is fascinating (and at times hilarious).

Don't get me wrong, it's not the best book ever written. I couldn't care less about ballet and I found that when his narrative shifted back to his dancing I couldn't read fast enough to get back to the interesting parts. While ballet is a necessary backdrop to the overall narrative, I think the majority of readers are invested in the story of his upbringing, training, initial impressions of the West and the defection. The consistent talk of his career seemed to betray the spirit of the book as a whole. It was never about the ballet. It was about perseverance and dedication and the ability to get out of an oppressive situation to allow a talent to flourish. I didn't much care whether he left the Houston dance company to join the Australian company. It's inconsequential to the main narrative. But what do I know? I'm an uncultured boor.

But regardless of your views on ballet, Mao's Last Dancer is the very definition of the word captivating. It's the sort of book whose unrelenting narrative begs you to read one more chapter before going to bed. Even if you, like me, don't know the different between ballet and the circus, I dare you to put this book down once you begin.

Or maybe, I dunno, maybe I'm just getting sentimental in my old age.

Note: The word "captivating" does not appear on the cover.

Other books about China:

A Traveler in China
Why China Will Never Rule The World

Why China Will Never Rule the World: Travels in the Two Chinas

Why China Will Never Rule The World: Travels in the Two Chinas

By Troy Parfitt

This is actually two books in one.

Good and bad.

At its best, Parfitt has written a readable, often witty account of his travels through China and Taiwan. His prose is decidedly readable and I found the book difficult to put down once I settled in. Each chapter catalogues a particular leg of the journey and provides fascinating historical subtext that fits the narrative. Some of the highlights include profiles of both Chiang Kai-Chek and Mao Zedong, a riveting account of cannibalism during the cultural revolution and the revolting account of Chen Chin-hsing, Taiwan's most notorious criminal. His travels include stops in Hong Kong, Macao, Lhasa, Shanghai, Harbin, Beijing, Chongqing, Kunming and Xiamen in china and virtually everywhere (except, mysteriously, Kaohsiung) in Taiwan over a span of a few years. The breadth of travel gives Parfitt a unique perspective on the wider Chinese world.

Parfitt pulls absolutely no punches when it comes to what he sees as the deficiencies inherent in Chinese culture. He refuses to accept the "you just don't understand the Chinese way of life" argument that gets bandied about by Sino-apologists (both Chinese and Western). He seems little interested in accepting Confucian ideals, communist rhetoric and the over-used "5000 years of tradition can't be wrong" argument. Instead, he attacks it head on and often comes to very erudite conclusions, many of which I have arrived as well (especially on the third of the book that pertains to Taiwan). I appreciate the no-holds-barred approach to writing and I got the feeling that if this book had been about 100 pages shorter, it would have been a really good book.

Unfortunately it's not....

Well, not entirely....

At its worst, Parfitt has written a nit-picky tract that seems to hold no real purpose beyond vilifying two nations of people. I felt like he could have written a similar book about Canadians or Finnish people or the Masai tribe. It's easy (if not cathartic) to be critical. If he had stuck to his larger, more sweeping conclusions and left his day-to-day irritants out it would have struck a grander chord. The ninth time he complains about being solicited for a massage in the middle of the night I just wanted to grab him and tell him to unplug his damned phone and quit complaining about non-issues. It lessened the impact of his valid conclusions.

Indeed, much of his writing comes across as an exhaustive rant against China (and sometimes Taiwan) which left a slightly foul taste in the my mouth. I understand that it is difficult to write a book such as this without falling foul of the politically correct crowd (of which I am not a member). But there are moments in this book where I found Parfitt flirting far too close to the line of what is acceptable to print and what should be better left unsaid. Parfitt is a classic example of an author lacking in subtlety. I realize that this book was aiming for the jugular, but there are a few instances that felt as if he was hitting below the belt.

Ofttimes, I found that Parfitt allowed his subject matter to get away from him and he allowed far too much emotion to seep into his narrative. As someone who, in a former life, worked in the publishing industry, I wonder about his editorial process. His editor was either unqualified or entirely unfamiliar with the subject matter. A good editor would have checked his emotional tirades and reigned in his rants (sorry if you read this Troy Parfitt's editor).

Overall, I recommend this book, but with a caveat. If you only plan to ever read one book about traveling through China and Taiwan, don't bother with this one. It's hardly objective. But if the subjects of China and Taiwan are of particular interest to you, it's worth the read. As an example of one man's journey through this part of the world and his frustration, it deserves a place among the growing bibliography of travel literature on the subject of the Chinese world.

In the beginning Parfitt implies that because he has no vested interest in China, his take on the subject would not be skewed by agenda. He's but a simple English teacher who lived and worked in Taipei who wanted to see for himself the rise of a global player. As a long-time resident of Taiwan I must challenge this notion. It is really difficult to live in Taiwan for an extended period of time (and be as well read as Parfitt seems to be) without having some preconceived notions about the Mainland. It's simply not possible.

In the end, I didn't expect any clear answer as to why China will never rule the world and I didn't get one. You won't get one either, but you'll probably enjoy a lot of the stories along the way. For anyone who has spent any time living inside the Chinese world, there will be much in this book to make you nod in agreement, and just as much that will make you furrow your brow in consternation.