Lijia Zhang's Blog, page 6

Adelphi

My Talk at Adelphi University
Let’s be honest—getting paid for a talk is always nice. But with payment comes pressure: you simply cannot bomb. So, I always feel a little more nervous when delivering a paid lecture.
That’s why I was immensely relieved (and frankly, quite pleased with myself) when my talk at Adelphi University—a lovely private institution in Garden City, New York—went down brilliantly. Hosted by the Bhse Center for Global Understanding, the event drew students from multiple departments, along with faculty members. I shared my life story, my journey to becoming a writer, and delved into gender-related issues. The audience was wonderfully engaged, asking thoughtful and challenging questions. The best part? A trip to NYC!

Friends

I am incredibly fortunate to have wonderful friends across the world, as one of my Facebook friends recently reminded me. Staying with them offers not only warmth and companionship but also the chance to know them more deeply.
The other day, I prepared a meal and invited Luca—the younger son of my dear friend Joe, an aspiring actor who is studying drama —to join us at my host Don Frantz’s home. As we shared stories of our lives and careers, I discovered that Don is not only a distinguished theatre director but also the mastermind behind the Amazing Maize Maze and a three-time Guinness World Record holder for the world’s largest maze. What an extraordinary revelation!

The outsiders

I’m staying with my friend Don Frantz, a director and producer with an impressive portfolio of Broadway shows. Naturally, he took me to see one.
Last night, we watched The Outsiders, a new Broadway musical adapted from S.E. Hinton’s novel. Many might be familiar with the film, but on stage, the story unfolds with a raw, visceral energy—a coming-of-age tale that feels like a cross between West Side Story and Grease, yet entirely its own.
What a show! Visually stunning, aided by modern technology—the burning of the old church was breathtaking in its realism. But even more striking was the performance itself. Sitting in the front row, I saw tears and snot fly from the actors’ faces, felt the intensity of their emotions, and marveled at the skillful storytelling. And, of course, being a musical, I must mention the lyrics—lyrical, poignant, unforgettable.
If there’s one criticism, it’s that some character development felt a little rushed, likely an inevitable challenge when juggling so many characters in a single production.
Still, I was enthralled. More than just the show, I loved the whole experience: dressing up (though, to my disappointment, not everyone did), dining at a lovely restaurant beforehand, and later, walking through the restless energy of Broadway, snow falling around me. A night to remember.

Mental health in China

China faces a significant mental health crisis. A 2019 study published in The Lancet Psychiatry estimated that 16.6% of Chinese adults—approximately 231 million people—have experienced a mental disorder at some point in their lives. Yet, mental health services remain severely underdeveloped, struggling to meet the country’s growing needs. I’ve written about this pressing issue—read my piece here:
Zhao Lusi shines a needed light on China’s treatment of mental health

NYC

**Central Park**

A visit to Central Park is always a walk through memory’s corridors. I had planned to stay with a generous friend in his elegant Manhattan home, but fate intervened—a fire rendered his building uninhabitable. In a gesture of kindness, he arranged for me to stay at his exclusive club, right by Central Park South. Not wanting to take undue advantage, but eager to embrace this unexpected experience, I decided to stay for two nights.

This morning, I swam laps in the Olympic-sized pool, then wandered through the park, letting the crisp air and familiar paths work their quiet magic.

America may have drifted back into Trumpland, but Central Park remains untouched in its timeless charm. This vast green heart of the city, where I have strolled countless times before, welcomes me once again.

A perfect beginning to my trip.

Fulfilling life

A Life Measured in Riches
For many years, I have believed myself to be a rich woman—not in wealth, but in something far more enduring. If richness were measured in experiences or social capital, I would count myself among the most fortunate. I have roamed the world, collecting memories like treasures, and I am blessed with a vast constellation of friends across continents.
It was with fascination that I read a recent Guardian article by Japanese social psychologist Shigehiro Oishi, who proposes a third path to fulfillment—a psychologically rich life—one that complements, yet transcends, the traditional pursuits of happiness and meaning. Oishi challenges the limitations of seeking happiness, often tied to fleeting pleasures, and meaning, which can sometimes become a burdensome quest. Instead, he advocates for a life brimming with diverse, complex, and transformative experiences—ones that expand perspectives and fortify resilience. He begins his piece with a striking proposition:
“What if I told you that we could all be rich? Not in dollars or pounds, yen or rupees, but in a completely different type of currency—a currency measured in experiences, adventures, lessons learned, and stories told?”
Without realizing it, I have been walking this path all along. And now, as we step into the Year of the Snake, it seems a good moment to reflect.
Until my marriage collapsed nearly twenty years ago, I rarely pondered the great existential questions—happiness, purpose, fulfillment. Then, at 40, I was blindsided. The man I had once considered the great love of my life left me, leaving me devastated. I no longer knew who I was. In my search for meaning, I turned to psychology books, hoping to decipher the elusive formula for happiness. That journey of inquiry has never really ended.
Looking back, I have indeed lived an eventful life. I was born into poverty, and at 16, I was pulled out of school and sent to toil in a rocket factory. Those years were neither fragrant nor golden, but they forged my resilience.
My divorce remains the most painful experience I have ever endured (thankfully, we had no financial battles). Yet meeting my ex, loving him, and marrying him were among the most rewarding and transformative experiences of my life. For that, I am grateful.
Beyond my personal struggles, I have faced countless professional setbacks. Yet, despite the rejections and frustrations, I have managed to carve out a space for myself, publishing books, telling stories that matter. Writing is always a struggle, but it is a struggle I embrace. I am determined to keep going, to keep experimenting, to keep stretching beyond my limits.
Then, there is travel—my lifelong passion. I have journeyed to more than 100 countries, met extraordinary people, and immersed myself in worlds vastly different from my own. Each place, each encounter, has left an indelible mark.
So, when I think of my life in these terms, how could I not feel rich? Not merely in moments of joy, but in the full spectrum of experience—the triumphs, the heartbreaks, the detours that led to unexpected discoveries.
Oishi’s article uplifted me, for it validated what I have long instinctively believed: that a fulfilling life is not about the relentless pursuit of happiness, nor about the weighty burden of meaning. Rather, it is about embracing the richness of experience, with all its unpredictability, all its depth. And in that sense, I am wealthier than I ever could have imagined. My friends: do let me know your view of a fulfilling life.
Here’s to the Guardian piece:
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/jan/27/the-big-idea-whats-the-real-key-to-a-fulfilling-life

Warwick Castle

Nestled along the River Avon in Warwickshire, Warwick Castle stands as one of England’s most iconic medieval fortresses, its storied past stretching back over eleven centuries. My first visit to the castle was thirty years ago, not long after I arrived in England. I remember it as grand and picturesque, though I confess I paid little heed to its history at the time.
Now, with the passing years, I have come to know my adopted country better and to appreciate its layers of history more deeply. Warwick Castle was originally commissioned by William the Conqueror in 1068, a wooden motte-and-bailey structure designed to consolidate Norman power. By the 12th century, it had been rebuilt in stone, its walls fortified to withstand the ever-present threat of attack. During the tumultuous Wars of the Roses, it served as the stronghold of Richard Neville, the formidable 16th Earl of Warwick—known to history as the “Kingmaker.”
This time, I explored the castle in the company of my old friend Louise, who had grown up in the area and spoke of it with a local’s affection. What made the visit unforgettable, however, was a guided tour led by a historian named Andrew. With the flair of a seasoned stage actor, Andrew brought the castle’s perilous past to life, illustrating with expansive gestures and vivid detail the grisly realities of medieval warfare. He painted scenes of attackers scalded by boiling oil or drenched in foul human waste!
The castle, one of the best-preserved in England, is undeniably an imposing sight—its towers and battlements a testament to centuries of power and resilience. Yet I must admit, the experience does not come cheap. At £39 for admission—and additional charges to enter the dungeon—it is too expensive. Still, for those who can linger and immerse themselves fully, a day spent wandering these ancient grounds might well justify the expense.

Chinese Global Orders

Conference on Chinese Global Orders
I just attended a fascinating conference at the British Academy, a collaboration between the academy and an academic group called Chinese Global Orders, dedicated to exploring China’s burgeoning influence on global stage. Today, China is widely recognized as a global norm-maker—a phenomenon both unprecedented and, curiously, undertheorized when juxtaposed against the long-standing paradigms of Euro-American dominance.
Spanning two days, the conference featured seven panel discussions, delving into a broad array of topics: from the Global China Initiative to foreign policy and the art of curating “global China.”
Our session, titled China in Britain: National/Personal Chaos, brought together Xiaolu Guo, the prolific and talented writer, and Enver Thoti, a Uyghur surgeon whose haunting testimony included harvesting organs from prisoners. Compared to the weighty academic presentations, our panel might have seemed lighter—though “light” feels like a misnomer. Thoti’s account was both extraordinary and profoundly unsettling. Xiaolu spoke eloquently about her forthcoming novel, a reimagining of Moby-Dick, while I shared my own journey as a writer navigating a time of global uncertainty and Xi Jinping’s Tell China’s Story Well campaign. It seemed to resonate with the audience—or so I hope. I did make people laugh.
The conference was a delight, not only for its intellectual depth but also for the opportunity to meet an array of remarkable individuals, each immersed in varied pursuits.

The sacred clan

Review of The Sacred Clan by Liang Hong
The Sacred Clan is a collection of twelve independent yet inter-connected short stories by Liang Hong. The narratives delve into the lives of residents in Wuzheng (吴镇), a rural community in Henan province, Central China, where the author herself hails from. Like many villages and small towns across China, Wuzheng is grappling with the challenges of modernization. Many young and capable residents have left, leaving behind the elderly, women, and children.
I first encountered Liang Hong through her 2010 nonfiction work, China in Liang Village, which documented the rapid social transformations in her home village. The book won several awards and brought her to prominence in China’s literary scene. I found it to be one of the better nonfiction books from China, offering an incisive look at rural life.
Now, Liang Hong, a professor of literature at Renmin University, has ventured into fiction with this collection. The stories blend detailed realism with elements of the supernatural and magical realism. For example, in the opening story, “A Glowing Cloud Is Floating Across Wuzheng,” a boy named Aqing protests the cutting down of an ancient tree by sitting on its branches. By the story’s end, the tree’s branches sprout from his body, merging him with the tree itself.
In a YouTube interview, Liang Hong remarked that “the town and its people are so real to her that they become surreal.” While this perspective is intriguing, I remain uncertain about the use of magical elements in the stories.
Overall, I enjoyed the book, though with some reservations. Liang Hong’s intimate knowledge of Wuzheng shines through. The characters feel authentic, and certain scenes are vivid and memorable. For instance, in one story, a woman attempting suicide by jumping into a river meets others with the same intent. However, instead of a river, they find themselves in a muddy, slushy area, their despair mingling with a touch of absurdity.
One of the standout stories is Xu Jialiang Builds a House. The titular character, an elderly bachelor labeled a “bare branch,” is entitled to benefits as a wubaohuo (a “five-protected individual”). When the Party Secretary denies him this status, Xu travels to Beijing to petition (shangfang). Though he is brought back, the secretary eventually relents, granting him funds to build a house. However, Xu constructs an underground house, complete with a shrine to Chairman Mao. The story brims with dark humor, particularly when Xu invites the Party Secretary to bow before the shrine. The secretary refuses, dismissing it as superstition, to which Xu retorts by pointing out the Mao Mausoleum: “Is that superstition?”
While the collection offers rich humor and fascinating glimpses into rural life, it rarely delves deeply into the inner lives of its characters. It feels as though I’ve toured Wuzheng but remain a stranger to its people. For instance, in Xu’s story, the narrative opens with three people discussing a 12-year-old boy’s adulthood ceremony at a clinic, but these characters never reappear. Perhaps I missed the connection, but this left me feeling somewhat detached.
Collections of interconnected short stories are a well-established subgenre, with notable examples like James Joyce’s Dubliners and Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge. Liang Hong’s The Sacred Clan (神圣家族) metaphorically represents the close-knit community of Wuzheng, emphasizing the familial bonds and shared cultural heritage among its residents. However, as the township faces the encroachment of urbanization, these sacred ties are tested, highlighting the tension between tradition and modernity.
Liang Hong’s portrayal of rural China’s transformation is both interesting and original, but it ultimately fails to fully draw me in. While the book offers a nuanced exploration of its themes, it leaves me wanting a deeper emotional connection to its characters and stories.

Review of Bob Dylan Biopic

Review of Bob Dylan Biopic: A Completely Unknown
It’s hard not to enjoy a film brimming with Bob Dylan’s iconic songs, melodies that resonate deeply with me and, judging by the hum of recognition in the audience, with many others as well. Yet, for all its musical richness, the film left me underwhelmed. It feels formulaic, a predictable Hollywood-style biopic that lacks the originality and spirit of rebellion that Dylan himself embodies.
Timothée Chalamet, currently one of the brightest stars in the cinematic firmament, delivers a commendable performance, but he feels miscast. He is too pretty and too polished for a role that demands someone with a bit more grit, someone rougher around the edges to capture Dylan’s raw essence.
At 2 hours and 20 minutes, the film overstays its welcome, dragging in places yet failing to penetrate the enigma of Dylan. By the end, I still didn’t understand how he became the man he is or what truly drives him. The narrative skirts the surface, offering glimpses but never delving into the soul of the music legend.
While I acknowledge the film has garnered much praise, I can’t share in the enthusiasm. I give it three out of five stars—a respectable score but one tinged with disappointment. For a film about a figure as groundbreaking as Dylan, I expected more daring, more depth, and above all, more authenticity.