What do you think?
Rate this book
Waiting
"Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu." Like a fairy tale, Ha Jin's masterful novel of love and politics begins with a formula--and like a fairy tale, Waiting uses its slight, deceptively simple framework to encompass a wide range of truths about the human heart. Lin Kong is a Chinese army doctor trapped in an arranged marriage that embarrasses and repels him. (Shuyu has country ways, a withered face, and most humiliating of all, bound feet.) Nevertheless, he's content with his tidy military life, at least until he falls in love with Manna, a nurse at his hospital. Regulations forbid an army officer to divorce without his wife's consent--until 18 years have passed, that is, after which he is free to marry again. So, year after year Lin asks his wife for his freedom, and year after year he returns from the provincial courthouse: still married, still unable to consummate his relationship with Manna. Nothing feeds love like obstacles placed in its way--right? But Jin's novel answers the question of what might have happened to Romeo and Juliet had their romance been stretched out for several decades. In the initial confusion of his chaste love affair, Lin longs for the peace and quiet of his "old rut." Then killing time becomes its own kind of rut, and in the end, he is forced to conclude that he "waited eighteen years just for the sake of waiting."
There's a political allegory here, of course, but it grows naturally from these characters' hearts. Neither Lin nor Manna is especially ideological, and the tumultuous events occurring around them go mostly unnoticed. They meet during a forced military march, and have their first tender moment during an opera about a naval battle. (While the audience shouts, "Down with Japanese Imperialism!" the couple holds hands and gazes dreamily into each other's eyes.) When Lin is in Goose Village one summer, a mutual acquaintance rapes Manna; years later, the rapist appears on a TV report titled "To Get Rich Is Glorious," after having made thousands in construction. Jin resists hammering ideological ironies like these home, but totalitarianism's effects on Lin are clear.
Ha Jin himself served in the People's Liberation Army, and in fact left his native country for the U.S. only in 1985. That a non-native speaker can produce English of such translucence and power is truly remarkable--but really, his prose is the least of the miracles here. Improbably, Jin makes an unconsummated 18-year love affair loom as urgent as political terror or war, while history-changing events gain the immediacy of a domestic dilemma. Gracefully phrased, impeccably paced, Waiting is the kind of realist novel you thought was no longer being written. --Mary Park
328 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1999
705 people are currently reading
15757 people want to read
About the author
Ha Jin
60 books825 followersHa Jin is the pen name of Jin Xuefei, a novelist, poet, short story writer, and Professor of English at Boston University.Ha Jin writes in English about China, a political decision post-Tiananmen Square.
Ha Jin grew up in mainland China and served in the People’s Liberation Army in his teens for five years. After leaving the army, he worked for three years at a railroad company in a remote northeastern city, Jiamusi, and then went to college in Harbin, majoring in English. He has published in English ten novels, four story collections, four volumes of poetry, a book of essays, and a biography of Li Bai. His novel Waiting won the National Book Award for Fiction, the PEN/Faulkner Award, and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. Ha Jin is William Fairfield Warren Distinguished Professor in English and Creative Writing at Boston University, and he has been elected a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His writing has been translated into more than thirty languages. Ha Jin’s novel The Woman Back from Moscow was published by Other Press in 2023.
Ha Jin grew up in mainland China and served in the People’s Liberation Army in his teens for five years. After leaving the army, he worked for three years at a railroad company in a remote northeastern city, Jiamusi, and then went to college in Harbin, majoring in English. He has published in English ten novels, four story collections, four volumes of poetry, a book of essays, and a biography of Li Bai. His novel Waiting won the National Book Award for Fiction, the PEN/Faulkner Award, and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. Ha Jin is William Fairfield Warren Distinguished Professor in English and Creative Writing at Boston University, and he has been elected a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His writing has been translated into more than thirty languages. Ha Jin’s novel The Woman Back from Moscow was published by Other Press in 2023.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,301 reviews
January 18, 2016
This was the first Ha Jin I read. It is hard to imagine that the superb use of language is by someone who learned English, a second language.
What is so special about the writing is its very sparing use of adjectives. It reads clean and tight - each word moves the story and characters along without any padding. Because the writing is so good, the characters and situations are clearly seen and it is the reader's imagination, interpretation, that supplies the descriptions and adjectives.
The lack of adjectives serve another purpose - they depersonalise the characters outwardly, just as the Communist regime reduced everyone to similarly-dressed workers. The only character who is decidedly different and more likeable than the others is the protagonist's peasant wife.
Life in the country was more relaxed all around, the extreme rigidity of the Party not even extending to consistently enforcing the one-child policy. As in the country, plants bloom, and so did Shuyu despite having the, by now, archaic, bound feet. Perhaps they meant that she didn't let things hold her back? But in the hospital, sterility is enforced. And that is the environment of the love affair of Lin Kong and Manna Wu. Anything that is not encouraged or at least condoned by the Party is interpreted as disease and must be cut down at source.
I loved the book. Others have found the characters stilted and the situations unbelievable. I don't think they are looking at it from the perspective of someone who has lived in a society utterly different from our own, I would rather think that the author knew what he was writing about. However, the world I inhabit is the world of the book and it doesn't make it more or less enjoyable whether it gybes with reality or not.
5 stars.
What is so special about the writing is its very sparing use of adjectives. It reads clean and tight - each word moves the story and characters along without any padding. Because the writing is so good, the characters and situations are clearly seen and it is the reader's imagination, interpretation, that supplies the descriptions and adjectives.
The lack of adjectives serve another purpose - they depersonalise the characters outwardly, just as the Communist regime reduced everyone to similarly-dressed workers. The only character who is decidedly different and more likeable than the others is the protagonist's peasant wife.
Life in the country was more relaxed all around, the extreme rigidity of the Party not even extending to consistently enforcing the one-child policy. As in the country, plants bloom, and so did Shuyu despite having the, by now, archaic, bound feet. Perhaps they meant that she didn't let things hold her back? But in the hospital, sterility is enforced. And that is the environment of the love affair of Lin Kong and Manna Wu. Anything that is not encouraged or at least condoned by the Party is interpreted as disease and must be cut down at source.
I loved the book. Others have found the characters stilted and the situations unbelievable. I don't think they are looking at it from the perspective of someone who has lived in a society utterly different from our own, I would rather think that the author knew what he was writing about. However, the world I inhabit is the world of the book and it doesn't make it more or less enjoyable whether it gybes with reality or not.
5 stars.
October 29, 2007
As someone who grew up in China, I found the characters very real. I read many reviews about this book talking about how none of characters are likable, except for the simple peasant ex-wife of Lin's.
But I think that is what the author was trying to tell us-that the system reduced every individual's humanity and individuality to the extent no one was a complete person anymore. The only reason that the simple peasant wife Shuyu seems to be more likable is because she was more human than anyone else. She was more human because her life was much less controlled by the government in the remote countryside, so her humanity is much less distorted.
I think it is a great love story because it shows how fragile human love and decency is and how easy it is to destroy what is beautiful.
But I think that is what the author was trying to tell us-that the system reduced every individual's humanity and individuality to the extent no one was a complete person anymore. The only reason that the simple peasant wife Shuyu seems to be more likable is because she was more human than anyone else. She was more human because her life was much less controlled by the government in the remote countryside, so her humanity is much less distorted.
I think it is a great love story because it shows how fragile human love and decency is and how easy it is to destroy what is beautiful.
September 29, 2017
Devastating & beautiful, the story is nothing if not universal. The Chinese Cultural Revolution is the backdrop & when it surrounds the characters, showing off the beauty & ugliness that is that double-edged sword, it traps them in situations which have seemingly no escape. There is here the spirit of romance which books like "Like Water for Chocolate" adequately display, as well as that overall apocalyptic feel of doom from "Never Let Me Go." Thoroughly splendid: it is one solid, brilliant jewel on the litcrown.
January 28, 2013
This book makes me feel dirty: like I need to scrub myself with Lysol several times over. Is there a term for a Chinese equivalent of an "Uncle Tom"? Because that's the kind of book this is. It's stuffed to bursting with Western stereotypes of Chinese people: the happily subservient, foot-bound woman; the sexually insatiable Asian beauty; the emasculated, impotent male. Ha Jin is deliberately writing a book targeted at a Western audience, designed to provide non-threatening images of China to the Western reader who can take comfort in the stamp of "authenticity" conferred by Ha Jin's Chinese background.
The first few chapters give it away: Shuyu, the protagonist's wife and a farmer's daughter born in 1934, has bound feet. This would have been very very rare by that time especially for a peasant woman. By way of contrast, note that in Tales of Hulan River —a Chinese novel/memoir written by a Chinese woman in Chinese for a Chinese audience and focused on the plight of Chinese women living in a patriarchal, misogynistic society—the writer, the daughter of a rich family and a child around 1900, did not have her feet bound, and such practices were more prevalent in her social class and at that earlier time. In fact, foot binding does not make an appearance at all in her book.
Is there some narrative use made of Shuyu's bound feet that might justify this narrative choice? No, none whatsoever. While it is used as an "explanation" for why Lin Kong is embarrassed by her, there are so many other reasons given for why he is not happy with her that this additional one makes no difference to the novel's dramatic arc. Its presence, however, gives the novel that exotic frisson: "Oh, those barbarous Chinese, torturing their women that way." And this is only one example.
Even if I were not totally turned-off by this Uncle Tong-ism, the leaden writing and one-dimensional characters would sink this book.
A complete and utter waste of time.
The first few chapters give it away: Shuyu, the protagonist's wife and a farmer's daughter born in 1934, has bound feet. This would have been very very rare by that time especially for a peasant woman. By way of contrast, note that in Tales of Hulan River —a Chinese novel/memoir written by a Chinese woman in Chinese for a Chinese audience and focused on the plight of Chinese women living in a patriarchal, misogynistic society—the writer, the daughter of a rich family and a child around 1900, did not have her feet bound, and such practices were more prevalent in her social class and at that earlier time. In fact, foot binding does not make an appearance at all in her book.
Is there some narrative use made of Shuyu's bound feet that might justify this narrative choice? No, none whatsoever. While it is used as an "explanation" for why Lin Kong is embarrassed by her, there are so many other reasons given for why he is not happy with her that this additional one makes no difference to the novel's dramatic arc. Its presence, however, gives the novel that exotic frisson: "Oh, those barbarous Chinese, torturing their women that way." And this is only one example.
Even if I were not totally turned-off by this Uncle Tong-ism, the leaden writing and one-dimensional characters would sink this book.
A complete and utter waste of time.
May 21, 2025
“From inside the bedroom Lake broke out crying, then screamed at the top of his lungs. A few seconds later River started bawling too. Manna hurried back in to calm them. Without tending to the stove or cleaning up, Lin turned and stormed out."I hate her! I hate her!" he said to himself.
As Lin calmed down, a voice rose in his head and said, Do you really hate her? He made no reply. The voice continued, You asked for this mess. Why did you marry her? I love her, he answered. You married her for love? You really loved her? He thought a while, then managed to answer, I think so. We waited eighteen years for each other, didn't we? Doesn't such a long time prove we love each other? No, time may prove nothing. Actually you never loved her. You mistook your crush for love. You didn't know what love was like. You waited eighteen years for the sake of waiting. You could have waited that long for another woman too, couldn't you?
Let's assume you and she loved each other. Were you sure that you both would enjoy living together as husband and wife? Lin's temples were throbbing, and he took off his hat so that the cold air could cool his head. Really? What do you know about love? Did you know her well enough before you married her? Were you sure she was the woman you'd spend the rest of your life with? Be honest now, among all the women you've known, who are you most fond of? Isn't there someone else who is more suitable for you than Manna?
I can't tell. Besides her there's only Shuyu in my life. How could I compare Manna with someone else? I don't know much about women, although I wish I did. Suddenly he felt his head expanding with a shooting pain, with the intuition that this marriage might not be what he had wanted. He sat down on a rock to catch his breath and think more.
The voice went on, Yes, you waited so many years, but for what? He found his mind blank and couldn't answer. The question frightened him, it implied that all those years he had waited for something wrong. Let me tell you what really happened, the voice said. All those years you waited like a sleepwalker, pulled and pushed about by others opinions, by external pressure, by your illusions, by the official rules you internalized. You were misled by your own frustration and passivity, believing you were not allowed to have was what your heart was destined to embrace.
Lin was stunned. For a moment he was at a loss for words. Then he began cursing himself. Eighteen years you waited without knowing for what! The prime of your life, gone, wasted, and it led you to this damn marriage. You're a fool!”
*************
Ha Jin is a naturalized Chinese-American author who has won acclaim and prestigious awards for his writing in English, including for this novel, a recipient of the National Book and PEN/Faulkner awards, shortlisted for a Pulitzer Prize. The doctor Lin Kong has graduated from a military medical school in 1963 and moves to a small city in north eastern China where Wu Manna is enrolled in a nursing program at the hospital. Many of the men from a nearby army base come to find a wife or girlfriend, including the young officer Mai Dong who meets Manna while prowling in the laundry room.
Both are virgins in their twenties, customary for some social groups at the time. They begin to date but she thinks he’s too forward by trying to kiss her and reveals her concern to Dr. Lin. He advises her to stay away from Mai until after graduation in a few months or she could be transferred or expelled. Mai leaves her for Shanghai to marry his cousin and she becomes closer to her professor Lin, who is only five years older than her. At twenty seven women of the era were considered to be approaching old maid status. Lin keeps a large collection of Western books and classic novels at his own personal risk.
Ha Jin continues through the Cultural Revolution beginning in 1966, with hospital staff going on long marches in the countryside. Manna becomes lame on a month long 400 mile trek and Lin takes care of her. Although he is married to a woman from outside of the city and a new father, Manna is grateful and interested in him. She finds other women at the base and in the hospital are attracted to him too. Perplexed she considers joining a nunnery but the Red Guards have smashed temples throughout the country. Lin is in an arranged marriage and he isn’t sure he loves either his country wife or Manna.
Despite his reticence things lead inexorably to an affair. Ha Jin joined the People’s Liberation Army at thirteen in 1969 and left in 1975, shortly before the death of Mao and end of the Cultural Revolution so he has personal experience in the place and time. Lin and Manna attract the attention of their colleagues and Party supervisors, although their relationship is not ‘abnormal’ (i.e. sexual), indicating the high level of scrutiny exerted in everyday life. Both promise the hospital head to remain platonic. She wants him to divorce his wife Shuyu but he is reluctant and can’t resolve to end his co-dependency with Manna.
Lin approaches Shuyu with his intentions and the village is outraged by the betrayal. Manna agrees delay is the best option. Indecision and vacillation are frustratingly conveyed by the author to reader. As the years fly by Lin tries to hook up Manna with friends and family in a half hearted effort to resolve his dilemma. She is aware of the clock ticking and attempts to entertain options for a suitable spouse. Manna meets Commissar Wei, an army commander twenty years older, educated and urbane, but he decides against pursuing a relationship with her. Ha Jin is a perceptive reporter of the emotional distress.
Manna is brutally raped by army officer Geng Yang who has given Lin and her advice on the divorce and marriage. Ha Jin shows women still treated as 2nd class citizens after reforms of the revolution. Shuyu moves to the city in separate army quarters after the divorce. Lin’s daughter Hua, now eighteen years old, joins her and works at an army job he lined up for her. Manna is finally married to Lin, after eighteen years of waiting, and a whole new world of troubles arise. Ha Jin is particularly adept at painting a portrait of the times and timeless aspects of the human condition, forcing one to wonder if it’s worth it.
Manna, a passionate lover, is disappointed in Lin’s sex drive but becomes pregnant, a goal of hers from the beginning. Lin remains remote, insensate to everything but his own introversion and concern for other’s opinions. Ha Jin writes in a way where his characters are exposed in their emotions and the misconceptions of those around them. This would be futile in the hands of a lesser writer, but he injects dramatic tension into the novel and shows how often when people are together even in marriage they are apart in their thoughts and hopes. The home shrinks into a prison of psychological constriction.
Manna is jealous of his perceived freedom while Lin feels suffocated by her. When twins arrive both she and they are endangered by illness. Lin finds himself in a new trap of his own making. He was happier, before he met her and fell in love, with his former wife in the country and his separate life in the city. Deng Xiao Ping’s 1992 adage ‘to get rich is glorious’ is taken up by the masses but holds no allure for Lin. Manna’s rapist Geng is a wealthy developer in Anhui, confirming crime does indeed pay. A bad heart threatens her life, making her bitter. Lin longs for the life he could have led with Shuyu.
While this novel is anchored in a historical time and place and it offers insights between romantic longings and committed relationships this entails working one’s way through thirty long years of emotional entanglements. At times there is an urge shake Lin by the shoulders to take decisive action and do what is right by his wife or begin a new life with his girfriend. The constraints of his career and endless procrastinations leave all of the parties in the love triangle unhappy and conflicted until the stalemate is broken, finally releasing its sufferers from self inflicted torment in old age.
As Lin calmed down, a voice rose in his head and said, Do you really hate her? He made no reply. The voice continued, You asked for this mess. Why did you marry her? I love her, he answered. You married her for love? You really loved her? He thought a while, then managed to answer, I think so. We waited eighteen years for each other, didn't we? Doesn't such a long time prove we love each other? No, time may prove nothing. Actually you never loved her. You mistook your crush for love. You didn't know what love was like. You waited eighteen years for the sake of waiting. You could have waited that long for another woman too, couldn't you?
Let's assume you and she loved each other. Were you sure that you both would enjoy living together as husband and wife? Lin's temples were throbbing, and he took off his hat so that the cold air could cool his head. Really? What do you know about love? Did you know her well enough before you married her? Were you sure she was the woman you'd spend the rest of your life with? Be honest now, among all the women you've known, who are you most fond of? Isn't there someone else who is more suitable for you than Manna?
I can't tell. Besides her there's only Shuyu in my life. How could I compare Manna with someone else? I don't know much about women, although I wish I did. Suddenly he felt his head expanding with a shooting pain, with the intuition that this marriage might not be what he had wanted. He sat down on a rock to catch his breath and think more.
The voice went on, Yes, you waited so many years, but for what? He found his mind blank and couldn't answer. The question frightened him, it implied that all those years he had waited for something wrong. Let me tell you what really happened, the voice said. All those years you waited like a sleepwalker, pulled and pushed about by others opinions, by external pressure, by your illusions, by the official rules you internalized. You were misled by your own frustration and passivity, believing you were not allowed to have was what your heart was destined to embrace.
Lin was stunned. For a moment he was at a loss for words. Then he began cursing himself. Eighteen years you waited without knowing for what! The prime of your life, gone, wasted, and it led you to this damn marriage. You're a fool!”
*************
Ha Jin is a naturalized Chinese-American author who has won acclaim and prestigious awards for his writing in English, including for this novel, a recipient of the National Book and PEN/Faulkner awards, shortlisted for a Pulitzer Prize. The doctor Lin Kong has graduated from a military medical school in 1963 and moves to a small city in north eastern China where Wu Manna is enrolled in a nursing program at the hospital. Many of the men from a nearby army base come to find a wife or girlfriend, including the young officer Mai Dong who meets Manna while prowling in the laundry room.
Both are virgins in their twenties, customary for some social groups at the time. They begin to date but she thinks he’s too forward by trying to kiss her and reveals her concern to Dr. Lin. He advises her to stay away from Mai until after graduation in a few months or she could be transferred or expelled. Mai leaves her for Shanghai to marry his cousin and she becomes closer to her professor Lin, who is only five years older than her. At twenty seven women of the era were considered to be approaching old maid status. Lin keeps a large collection of Western books and classic novels at his own personal risk.
Ha Jin continues through the Cultural Revolution beginning in 1966, with hospital staff going on long marches in the countryside. Manna becomes lame on a month long 400 mile trek and Lin takes care of her. Although he is married to a woman from outside of the city and a new father, Manna is grateful and interested in him. She finds other women at the base and in the hospital are attracted to him too. Perplexed she considers joining a nunnery but the Red Guards have smashed temples throughout the country. Lin is in an arranged marriage and he isn’t sure he loves either his country wife or Manna.
Despite his reticence things lead inexorably to an affair. Ha Jin joined the People’s Liberation Army at thirteen in 1969 and left in 1975, shortly before the death of Mao and end of the Cultural Revolution so he has personal experience in the place and time. Lin and Manna attract the attention of their colleagues and Party supervisors, although their relationship is not ‘abnormal’ (i.e. sexual), indicating the high level of scrutiny exerted in everyday life. Both promise the hospital head to remain platonic. She wants him to divorce his wife Shuyu but he is reluctant and can’t resolve to end his co-dependency with Manna.
Lin approaches Shuyu with his intentions and the village is outraged by the betrayal. Manna agrees delay is the best option. Indecision and vacillation are frustratingly conveyed by the author to reader. As the years fly by Lin tries to hook up Manna with friends and family in a half hearted effort to resolve his dilemma. She is aware of the clock ticking and attempts to entertain options for a suitable spouse. Manna meets Commissar Wei, an army commander twenty years older, educated and urbane, but he decides against pursuing a relationship with her. Ha Jin is a perceptive reporter of the emotional distress.
Manna is brutally raped by army officer Geng Yang who has given Lin and her advice on the divorce and marriage. Ha Jin shows women still treated as 2nd class citizens after reforms of the revolution. Shuyu moves to the city in separate army quarters after the divorce. Lin’s daughter Hua, now eighteen years old, joins her and works at an army job he lined up for her. Manna is finally married to Lin, after eighteen years of waiting, and a whole new world of troubles arise. Ha Jin is particularly adept at painting a portrait of the times and timeless aspects of the human condition, forcing one to wonder if it’s worth it.
Manna, a passionate lover, is disappointed in Lin’s sex drive but becomes pregnant, a goal of hers from the beginning. Lin remains remote, insensate to everything but his own introversion and concern for other’s opinions. Ha Jin writes in a way where his characters are exposed in their emotions and the misconceptions of those around them. This would be futile in the hands of a lesser writer, but he injects dramatic tension into the novel and shows how often when people are together even in marriage they are apart in their thoughts and hopes. The home shrinks into a prison of psychological constriction.
Manna is jealous of his perceived freedom while Lin feels suffocated by her. When twins arrive both she and they are endangered by illness. Lin finds himself in a new trap of his own making. He was happier, before he met her and fell in love, with his former wife in the country and his separate life in the city. Deng Xiao Ping’s 1992 adage ‘to get rich is glorious’ is taken up by the masses but holds no allure for Lin. Manna’s rapist Geng is a wealthy developer in Anhui, confirming crime does indeed pay. A bad heart threatens her life, making her bitter. Lin longs for the life he could have led with Shuyu.
While this novel is anchored in a historical time and place and it offers insights between romantic longings and committed relationships this entails working one’s way through thirty long years of emotional entanglements. At times there is an urge shake Lin by the shoulders to take decisive action and do what is right by his wife or begin a new life with his girfriend. The constraints of his career and endless procrastinations leave all of the parties in the love triangle unhappy and conflicted until the stalemate is broken, finally releasing its sufferers from self inflicted torment in old age.
Read
February 6, 2017ok, so here's how i got rabies. true story.
i'm in thailand. thailand is pretty much awesome, i like going there a lot, as long as you stay away from touristy places like phuket and don't go to bangkok. people get sucked into bangkok and never return.
so, i'm in bangkok (of course) and it's hard not to get sucked into a place like that, you know? fifty bajillion people stacked on top of each other like sardines, zipping around on highly unsafe wheeled vehicles that would never pass california safety emissions test, and not just because their mufflers are made of duct tape. it's fascinating. and scary. you can't survive there long without help. i'm guessing that's why they made khao san road.
khao san road is like... it's like... well, it's "civilization". at least that's what an australian kid once told me over a beer on the street. i think he got it pretty right. it's like a mecca for weary travelers in southeast asia, smack dab in the middle of the city, with hostels every two feet, nice old women offering to do your laundry for ridiculously cheap prices, massage parlors, restaurants with food you can pronounce in your native tongue (they try so hard, but still, what's with the corn on my pizza? no one eats corn on their pizza, guys). it's like "safe bangkok". when you stumble into khao san road after 2 weeks off the map in cambodia, you could almost weep for joy. "civilization", you see? everyone there is on their way to somewhere or recovering from somewhere. khao san isn't a place you go just to visit, it's a place you go after visiting somewhere else.
and it's crazy. especially when things get dark.
black market goods. fake watches. hair braiding. ping pong ball shows? street performers. i mean, you can get all this in other places in asia, probably with more variety and less chance of being kidnapped into slavery. but there's something about the relief in being back in "civilization" that makes people go crazy. it might have something to do with the children running around in the streets, offering to sell you cocktails mixed in beach buckets. no actually it probably has a lot to do with the beach buckets.
see after traveling in crazy places, keeping your guard up, trying not to get malaria, or lost, or eaten by wild animals, it's nice to have a safe zone filled with other tourists. logically, the first thing you do when you get to this zone is find a beer and try to one up someone else with a story of how you almost got malaria, or lost, or eaten by wild animals.
this was my plan, anyway. so i settle down with a pad thai and a watermelon shake, under the glow of the chelsea game (thanks satellite) at a nice little pub. the bar opens out into the street. it's a hot night, but the fans are going. a stream of humanity trickles by me in slow motion. and that's when, out of nowhere, a wild animal actually tried to eat me. yes, at the bar.
it was large and growly, with terrifying eyes that glistened under the table. kind of. i mean it hadn't been cuddled in awhile, so it's hair was kind of tufty. and it WAS on the larger side, for most kittens. i totally made up the part about the eyes.
it thought i was offering it some shrimp. which, i wasn't. i was going to throw the shrimp across the floor of the bar so it could run after it. and stop sitting on my flip flop. unfortunately, the kitty was faster than my puny human reflexes, and whilst nabbing the shrimp from my hand, it also kind of bit me.
when you get bit by a loner cat in thailand, nobody cares. which is cool. turns out, when you get bit by a cat in thailand and then casually mention it to your travel physician in an email, ya know, because you want to make sure the tetanus shot kicked in before you left, well... people go crazy. important people. like county department of health people. they want you to come home so you can do boring stuff like be safe, and get a post-exposure rabies vaccine. blaaaaah. boring.
which is exactly what i was expecting the 16 hour plane flights back home to be. hella boring. so i found this book, "waiting" (you were just WAITING to see what this review had to do with it, huh?! huh?? haha puns!) and tucked it into my bag to stave off the craziness. (not the rabies-crazy, that doesn't kick in for 2 weeks. the "i can't stand to watch another korean soap opera on this 3x3 inch screen while a small japanese child throws hello kitty jelly beans at me for the next 12 hours" crazy).
well, it sucked. the book that is. about three dozen people have said this already, and way more succinctly than me... you spend this book waiting for it to get good. and then it doesn't. i don't need my literature to have a point, an ending, or even, sometimes, a plot. but i do like it to have interesting characters and at least one satisfying moment of decent prose. this novel, i can honestly say, had none.
so i thought, if all these people came to this page on goodreads to read a review of the book, angry that they had wasted their time with such a long and unfufilling narrative like "waiting"... i might as well give them a story that at least TRIES to be 1/10th as good as "waiting". since none of us can get our money back. or the fake silver watch we traded for it. ya know, whatever.
ps. did you know you have to get FOUR freaking shots to stave off the rabies? srsly. i'm not even going to tell you where either.
i'm in thailand. thailand is pretty much awesome, i like going there a lot, as long as you stay away from touristy places like phuket and don't go to bangkok. people get sucked into bangkok and never return.
so, i'm in bangkok (of course) and it's hard not to get sucked into a place like that, you know? fifty bajillion people stacked on top of each other like sardines, zipping around on highly unsafe wheeled vehicles that would never pass california safety emissions test, and not just because their mufflers are made of duct tape. it's fascinating. and scary. you can't survive there long without help. i'm guessing that's why they made khao san road.
khao san road is like... it's like... well, it's "civilization". at least that's what an australian kid once told me over a beer on the street. i think he got it pretty right. it's like a mecca for weary travelers in southeast asia, smack dab in the middle of the city, with hostels every two feet, nice old women offering to do your laundry for ridiculously cheap prices, massage parlors, restaurants with food you can pronounce in your native tongue (they try so hard, but still, what's with the corn on my pizza? no one eats corn on their pizza, guys). it's like "safe bangkok". when you stumble into khao san road after 2 weeks off the map in cambodia, you could almost weep for joy. "civilization", you see? everyone there is on their way to somewhere or recovering from somewhere. khao san isn't a place you go just to visit, it's a place you go after visiting somewhere else.
and it's crazy. especially when things get dark.
black market goods. fake watches. hair braiding. ping pong ball shows? street performers. i mean, you can get all this in other places in asia, probably with more variety and less chance of being kidnapped into slavery. but there's something about the relief in being back in "civilization" that makes people go crazy. it might have something to do with the children running around in the streets, offering to sell you cocktails mixed in beach buckets. no actually it probably has a lot to do with the beach buckets.
see after traveling in crazy places, keeping your guard up, trying not to get malaria, or lost, or eaten by wild animals, it's nice to have a safe zone filled with other tourists. logically, the first thing you do when you get to this zone is find a beer and try to one up someone else with a story of how you almost got malaria, or lost, or eaten by wild animals.
this was my plan, anyway. so i settle down with a pad thai and a watermelon shake, under the glow of the chelsea game (thanks satellite) at a nice little pub. the bar opens out into the street. it's a hot night, but the fans are going. a stream of humanity trickles by me in slow motion. and that's when, out of nowhere, a wild animal actually tried to eat me. yes, at the bar.
it was large and growly, with terrifying eyes that glistened under the table. kind of. i mean it hadn't been cuddled in awhile, so it's hair was kind of tufty. and it WAS on the larger side, for most kittens. i totally made up the part about the eyes.
it thought i was offering it some shrimp. which, i wasn't. i was going to throw the shrimp across the floor of the bar so it could run after it. and stop sitting on my flip flop. unfortunately, the kitty was faster than my puny human reflexes, and whilst nabbing the shrimp from my hand, it also kind of bit me.
when you get bit by a loner cat in thailand, nobody cares. which is cool. turns out, when you get bit by a cat in thailand and then casually mention it to your travel physician in an email, ya know, because you want to make sure the tetanus shot kicked in before you left, well... people go crazy. important people. like county department of health people. they want you to come home so you can do boring stuff like be safe, and get a post-exposure rabies vaccine. blaaaaah. boring.
which is exactly what i was expecting the 16 hour plane flights back home to be. hella boring. so i found this book, "waiting" (you were just WAITING to see what this review had to do with it, huh?! huh?? haha puns!) and tucked it into my bag to stave off the craziness. (not the rabies-crazy, that doesn't kick in for 2 weeks. the "i can't stand to watch another korean soap opera on this 3x3 inch screen while a small japanese child throws hello kitty jelly beans at me for the next 12 hours" crazy).
well, it sucked. the book that is. about three dozen people have said this already, and way more succinctly than me... you spend this book waiting for it to get good. and then it doesn't. i don't need my literature to have a point, an ending, or even, sometimes, a plot. but i do like it to have interesting characters and at least one satisfying moment of decent prose. this novel, i can honestly say, had none.
so i thought, if all these people came to this page on goodreads to read a review of the book, angry that they had wasted their time with such a long and unfufilling narrative like "waiting"... i might as well give them a story that at least TRIES to be 1/10th as good as "waiting". since none of us can get our money back. or the fake silver watch we traded for it. ya know, whatever.
ps. did you know you have to get FOUR freaking shots to stave off the rabies? srsly. i'm not even going to tell you where either.
January 5, 2008
The onslaught of awards and critical acclaim this book has garnered (including the biggie, The National Book Award of 1999) epitomizes the most lamentable trend in such current practices: pandering political correctness.
Despite featuring wooden dialogue spoken by boring characters I could care less about and descriptions that rival phone book listings in their vividness, Waiting DOES conform to pre-existing, fetishized Western notions of Chinese culture. Thus, delighted progressive (probably white, perhaps guilt-ridden) tastemakers were all too eager to reward such an "exotic" tale of unrequited love even though the surface originality of an actual Chinese romance (!) from an actual Chinese guy (!!) written in English (!!!), barely conceals the amateurish, mundane disposability that is the book's true nature.
To its supporters, the spare minimalism of the writing matches generalized perceptions of the Asian aesthetic forging a sort of modern, Eastern Hemingway in which his level of economical depth and insight is matched or, dare I say, even exceeded. And while it is true that sometimes "less is more" (as with Hemingway or, say, William Carlos Williams), sometimes "less is simply less". Waiting is, quite simply, hackneyed drivel that underscores the immutable fact that whether it resides in the sewers of New York City or the fields of a rural Chinese village, crap is still crap.
Despite featuring wooden dialogue spoken by boring characters I could care less about and descriptions that rival phone book listings in their vividness, Waiting DOES conform to pre-existing, fetishized Western notions of Chinese culture. Thus, delighted progressive (probably white, perhaps guilt-ridden) tastemakers were all too eager to reward such an "exotic" tale of unrequited love even though the surface originality of an actual Chinese romance (!) from an actual Chinese guy (!!) written in English (!!!), barely conceals the amateurish, mundane disposability that is the book's true nature.
To its supporters, the spare minimalism of the writing matches generalized perceptions of the Asian aesthetic forging a sort of modern, Eastern Hemingway in which his level of economical depth and insight is matched or, dare I say, even exceeded. And while it is true that sometimes "less is more" (as with Hemingway or, say, William Carlos Williams), sometimes "less is simply less". Waiting is, quite simply, hackneyed drivel that underscores the immutable fact that whether it resides in the sewers of New York City or the fields of a rural Chinese village, crap is still crap.
June 5, 2017
3.5 stars, rounded up.
I am frequently surprised by books that I think will be about one thing and turn out to be about another. This story is set in Communist China, and what I expected was a dissection of that time in history. That was an element, but this book is truly about a man, Lin Kong, who cannot make up his mind how to live his life, and as a result finds himself always waiting for his life to begin.
There is happiness and possibility all around him, but he is never able to grasp any of it. His wife, to whom he has become attached through an arranged marriage, is a peasant woman. She seems too simple, countrified and uneducated for his tastes and position, but his visits home prove to us that he might have been happy in her company had he allowed himself to be. He spurns her company and misses the entire life of his daughter, who might have been a source of joy for his life but was not. His mistress, if you can truly call her that, is a well-educated woman with whom he works, but he can never commit himself to her seriously enough to divorce his wife and begin a true life with her. The result is that all three of these people are waiting, always waiting, for his decision, for him to act, for life to begin.
The story is written in a clipped style that suggests the thoughts and confusion of Lin Kong. I found it appropriate for this story, although it is bleak and almost depressing at times. I felt varying emotional reactions to each of these three people at different times in the story, for like all human beings, they are complex and not always likable. Perhaps the wife is a little cliche, dutiful and self-deprecating, but I do think there would have been women in this situation at the beginning of the transition to Mao’s China. Old worlds do not give way to new worlds without catching some people in the middle.
If nothing else, this book reminds us that our lives are limited things--best to live them while you can.
I am frequently surprised by books that I think will be about one thing and turn out to be about another. This story is set in Communist China, and what I expected was a dissection of that time in history. That was an element, but this book is truly about a man, Lin Kong, who cannot make up his mind how to live his life, and as a result finds himself always waiting for his life to begin.
There is happiness and possibility all around him, but he is never able to grasp any of it. His wife, to whom he has become attached through an arranged marriage, is a peasant woman. She seems too simple, countrified and uneducated for his tastes and position, but his visits home prove to us that he might have been happy in her company had he allowed himself to be. He spurns her company and misses the entire life of his daughter, who might have been a source of joy for his life but was not. His mistress, if you can truly call her that, is a well-educated woman with whom he works, but he can never commit himself to her seriously enough to divorce his wife and begin a true life with her. The result is that all three of these people are waiting, always waiting, for his decision, for him to act, for life to begin.
The story is written in a clipped style that suggests the thoughts and confusion of Lin Kong. I found it appropriate for this story, although it is bleak and almost depressing at times. I felt varying emotional reactions to each of these three people at different times in the story, for like all human beings, they are complex and not always likable. Perhaps the wife is a little cliche, dutiful and self-deprecating, but I do think there would have been women in this situation at the beginning of the transition to Mao’s China. Old worlds do not give way to new worlds without catching some people in the middle.
If nothing else, this book reminds us that our lives are limited things--best to live them while you can.
June 3, 2018
Wooden writing (I can't blame the translation, as it was written in English) and shallow characters, but an interesting story that could only be set in mid/late 20th century China: about discipline, longing coupled with detachment, lost opportunities and more.
Best summed up by Book Wyrm:
"it was like trying to listen to an account of an orgy told by the world's most boring eunuch"
See his review here.
Best summed up by Book Wyrm:
"it was like trying to listen to an account of an orgy told by the world's most boring eunuch"
See his review here.
August 27, 2017
3.5 stars
Damn you, Lin. Damn you for making me cry over what you did to Shuyu. And yet I still worry over you, even though you're just a fictional character in a book. Do you even know what happiness is, Lin? How about what it costs and what it's NOT supposed to cost?
I wasn't expecting the ending to stab my heart the way it did. Just when you think you know where a book is heading...
Damn you, Lin. Damn you for making me cry over what you did to Shuyu. And yet I still worry over you, even though you're just a fictional character in a book. Do you even know what happiness is, Lin? How about what it costs and what it's NOT supposed to cost?
I wasn't expecting the ending to stab my heart the way it did. Just when you think you know where a book is heading...
June 5, 2016
"Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu." Lin had married Shuyu, an uneducated, traditional Chinese woman in an arranged marriage when his father needed someone to take care of Lin's dying mother. But Lin had gone to school to become a doctor and was now living in an urban environment. He wanted to marry Manna, a nurse who was more sophisticated and modern. Shuyu refuses to give him a divorce, and the Communist Party rules say there has to be 18 years of marital separation before Lin can obtain the divorce without the consent of Shuyu.
Lin and Manna wait...and wait...and wait for 18 years. In the 1960s there could be serious political consequences if they are alone together outside the hospital grounds, and Lin is a cautious person. During the two decades that elapse in "Waiting", the political and social climate slowly changes as the three main characters age. The book is mainly a character study of Lin and Manna. How much of their history together was influenced by love, and how much by circumstances? Has Lin truly loved anyone with a deep passion, or is he always the recipient of love? Have their lives passed them by because they are always living for the future and not enjoying the present? "Waiting" is a character-driven, quiet book that won the National Book Award for Fiction in 1999.
Lin and Manna wait...and wait...and wait for 18 years. In the 1960s there could be serious political consequences if they are alone together outside the hospital grounds, and Lin is a cautious person. During the two decades that elapse in "Waiting", the political and social climate slowly changes as the three main characters age. The book is mainly a character study of Lin and Manna. How much of their history together was influenced by love, and how much by circumstances? Has Lin truly loved anyone with a deep passion, or is he always the recipient of love? Have their lives passed them by because they are always living for the future and not enjoying the present? "Waiting" is a character-driven, quiet book that won the National Book Award for Fiction in 1999.
January 14, 2020
*Thanks to "The Book Fairies" and "World of Books" for a copy*
It was such a pleasant reading! But I am not sure what to say. The ending hit me really hard..... I liked the storyline and the reflection of China at that time. I really liked how each character's story was explained individually. But most of all, I liked the writing style. Simple and heart-touching.
This book makes me wanna stop and take a moment to ask myself one question. Am I really waiting for what I think I am waiting for?
#ibelieveinbookfairies
#FairyBookClub
It was such a pleasant reading! But I am not sure what to say. The ending hit me really hard..... I liked the storyline and the reflection of China at that time. I really liked how each character's story was explained individually. But most of all, I liked the writing style. Simple and heart-touching.
This book makes me wanna stop and take a moment to ask myself one question. Am I really waiting for what I think I am waiting for?
#ibelieveinbookfairies
#FairyBookClub
July 28, 2021
From the start I could not put this book down. The story intrigued me and I wanted to know the story behind it all. I can not understand that the rating of this book is low. The story is entertaining and reads fast. It also shows a lot of Chinese culture and how people deal with that. The life choices we make, the waiting we do in life.. 5 points.
August 19, 2021
This was the comical story of life in China during the cultural revolution with a minor official that leaves his wife and child in the countryside to work in the city where he gets involved with a nurse. Unfortunately, he is unable to convince his wife that he wants a divorce, and his life is under constant surveillance by his colleagues and the political police which makes his affair incredibly complicated. There is a lot of humanity here and lots of comedy. Overall, I enjoyed this as a view into life in China during the 60s and 70s and Ha Jin's writing was quite nice as well.
January 7, 2015
i first came across this book in 2004. i have to admit that the politics alluded me, the history of communist china isnt exactly my thing, but what i got out of this book when i read it was the universality of the concept of “waiting”. when you think about it, we are all waiting…for something. we will spend our entire lives waiting for one thing or another, and each time we acquire what we were waiting for, we find something else to be waiting for. we always think that what we are waiting for is that one last thing that will make everything complete—only to find each time that what we wanted isnt exactly all we thought it would be. ironically enough, we spend our entire lives waiting on something that will help us acheive inner peace, only to discover in the end that it was all the waiting that kept us from it the whole time. i think jin does a wonderful job presenting this concept both through the story line and his writing choices.
January 28, 2008
I am not sure why this book won anything - a relay race, a pie-eating contest, let alone a National Book Award. It's got a good theme to it - how the communist Chinese government's totalitarian ways caused great unhappiness - but the writing was so dull that I couldn't deal. I was just Waiting for it to end. It went something like this:
"I had only 12 more years before I could divorce my wife and marry Manna."
A bird flew by the window. A leaf fell from a tree. The clouds were grey.
Snore.
"I had only 12 more years before I could divorce my wife and marry Manna."
A bird flew by the window. A leaf fell from a tree. The clouds were grey.
Snore.
February 24, 2016
The premise of the novel is that waiting is an emotion. By the end of the book, I was ready to concede the point to the author as this was one of the most exasperating stories I've ever read. I really wearied of waiting for the culmination of the story. It's well written, that's not the issue. The story just drove me insane as we waited and waited and waited for Lin to get a spine and marry the woman he claimed to love. And she just dutifully waited and waited and waited....
In all seriousness, the author provided a perfect story to illustrate his point of view. It still drove me crazy.
In all seriousness, the author provided a perfect story to illustrate his point of view. It still drove me crazy.
July 25, 2024
A Bitter Love
Ha Jin's acclaimed novel "Waiting" is set in China during the Cultural Revolution of the late twentieth century. The three main characters are Lin Kong, a doctor in the Chinese Army, Shuyu, his wife through an arranged marriage and the product of a traditionalist upbringing (i.e. with bound feet) and Mannu Wu an educated, modern nurse that Lin plans to marry. Under military law, Lin must wait 18 years before he may secure a divorce without the consent of his wife.
The story operates on multiple levels. It is in part a story which explores the nature of love -- what does it mean to love someone and how does one know when he or she is in love? The story also works as a political allegory of the Communist regime in China. Closely related to the latter, it is a fable about a traditional way of life coming into contact with modernity and industrialization (communist or not).
On all levels, the story shows the ambiguity of the human heart and the difficulty of self-knowledge. These are basic difficulties in being human, and the understanding of these difficulties is basic to human love, politics and change. The story shows both how hard it is for people to know their own hearts and also how difficult it is to pursue any ends without bringing, in some way, harm to another person.
The story is told in an eloquent, minimalist prose. The writing is simple and beautiful. I found the primary characters and a host of secondary characters well, if suggestively and sparely, presented and developed.
This book reminded me of another highly acclaimed book: "Disgrace" by J,M. Coetzee. Both books are written in a restrained prose. Both are about repressive political societies (South Africa and China) in an uncertain state of transition. And both present situations fraught with moral ambiguity which seem to point beyond themselves for understanding.
"Waiting" is a thoughtful and sad story about what a party leader accurately describes at an important moment of the book as "a bitter love".
Robin Friedman
Ha Jin's acclaimed novel "Waiting" is set in China during the Cultural Revolution of the late twentieth century. The three main characters are Lin Kong, a doctor in the Chinese Army, Shuyu, his wife through an arranged marriage and the product of a traditionalist upbringing (i.e. with bound feet) and Mannu Wu an educated, modern nurse that Lin plans to marry. Under military law, Lin must wait 18 years before he may secure a divorce without the consent of his wife.
The story operates on multiple levels. It is in part a story which explores the nature of love -- what does it mean to love someone and how does one know when he or she is in love? The story also works as a political allegory of the Communist regime in China. Closely related to the latter, it is a fable about a traditional way of life coming into contact with modernity and industrialization (communist or not).
On all levels, the story shows the ambiguity of the human heart and the difficulty of self-knowledge. These are basic difficulties in being human, and the understanding of these difficulties is basic to human love, politics and change. The story shows both how hard it is for people to know their own hearts and also how difficult it is to pursue any ends without bringing, in some way, harm to another person.
The story is told in an eloquent, minimalist prose. The writing is simple and beautiful. I found the primary characters and a host of secondary characters well, if suggestively and sparely, presented and developed.
This book reminded me of another highly acclaimed book: "Disgrace" by J,M. Coetzee. Both books are written in a restrained prose. Both are about repressive political societies (South Africa and China) in an uncertain state of transition. And both present situations fraught with moral ambiguity which seem to point beyond themselves for understanding.
"Waiting" is a thoughtful and sad story about what a party leader accurately describes at an important moment of the book as "a bitter love".
Robin Friedman
August 1, 2007
I couldn't decide if I wanted to give this book one or two stars, but ultimately decided to go with two because it kept my attention and was a fast read. That being said however, I hated almost everything about this book, particularly the main characters. There were times when I thought the strength of my burning hatred for the main character would be enough to ignite the book into flames. But if you like books about weak, self absorbed, indecisive, and passionless characters who are not even remotely sympathetic, then this book's for you. I can't even write any more because just thinking about how much I couldn't stand every single person in this book is making me angry again.
November 25, 2016
I enjoyed my second reading of this book by Ha Jin much more than the first. Perhaps it was timing or my still-maturing literary consciousness, but for me, the book has ripened significantly in the 7 or 8 years since my first perusal. While I cannot say that I admire the characters of Lin or Manna any more than I originally did, Shuyu stood out to me as a shining example of "blooming where you're planted". She managed to be happy, productive and capable of growth and forgiveness, in the difficulties of marriage to an absent, ungrateful husband, whose home she ran, child she raised, parents she cared for as they aged and died, farm she maintained. Ultimately, after many years of trying to divorce Shuyu, Lin succeeds and then sells the farm to pay for his second marriage, and we see her transplanted to the big city and thriving there, as well. Meanwhile, Lin and Manna's lives seem to stall; stuck forever in waiting mode, they seem to have lost the ability to love or grow or give.
A good read!
A good read!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 13, 2020
This was a bit of a strange read for me. Ha Jin has given his readers a mixture of Chinese and Western culture.
Lin Kong enters into an arranged marriage to Shuyu, a quiet country girl. As soon as she has their first child Lin goes off tp the Military Medical School in the city. Here he meets Manna Wu and strikes up a friendship. Lin is devoid of any need for physical contact so although Manna has fallen in love Lin is happy for their friendship to remain platonic, citing his marriage as his deterrent for closeness.
The story goes back and forward as Manna waits and Lin asks his wife for a divorce every few years. They go to the courts and each time Shuyu changes her mind. Lin’s life goes on unchanged; he has a wife at home bringing up his daughter and a woman in the city hanging on his every word.
I found there were events in the story I didn’t understand and couldn’t decipher their hidden meaning.
I didn’t like Lin Kong at all and could sum up the book as being about ‘a useless man and the women who love him.’ I did however enjoy Jin’s vivid descriptions.
Thank you to World of Books for my copy to read.
Lin Kong enters into an arranged marriage to Shuyu, a quiet country girl. As soon as she has their first child Lin goes off tp the Military Medical School in the city. Here he meets Manna Wu and strikes up a friendship. Lin is devoid of any need for physical contact so although Manna has fallen in love Lin is happy for their friendship to remain platonic, citing his marriage as his deterrent for closeness.
The story goes back and forward as Manna waits and Lin asks his wife for a divorce every few years. They go to the courts and each time Shuyu changes her mind. Lin’s life goes on unchanged; he has a wife at home bringing up his daughter and a woman in the city hanging on his every word.
I found there were events in the story I didn’t understand and couldn’t decipher their hidden meaning.
I didn’t like Lin Kong at all and could sum up the book as being about ‘a useless man and the women who love him.’ I did however enjoy Jin’s vivid descriptions.
Thank you to World of Books for my copy to read.
December 28, 2020
Set in China during the Cultural Revolution, protagonist Lin Kong is a doctor living and working at a hospital in the city of Mija China. He wants to divorce his wife, who lives apart from him in the countryside with their daughter. China’s laws and customs do not make it easy to obtain a divorce. Lin is thwarted year after year. In the meantime, he has developed a loving, but platonic, relationship a colleague. They wish to marry once he obtains a divorce.
As the title indicates, this book is about waiting. It is as if Lin is continuously waiting for his life to start. To me, this book reads as an excellent example of the phrase “You Only Live Once,” which has become so popular recently. It shows the need to act rather than wait for life to happen to you. It also shows what can happen to someone who is not satisfied with his life, always thinking that life would be better if only circumstances could change (while doing little to effect change or to find a way to enjoy what he currently has).
I particularly enjoyed the glimpse of Chinese life under Mao Tse Tung, where the people appear to be waiting for the benefits of his regime to be made clear. There is one horrific event that came out of the blue, so be prepared for something awful to happen in this otherwise quiet book. I liked it but I felt like I was waiting for a revelation that never occurred.
3.5
As the title indicates, this book is about waiting. It is as if Lin is continuously waiting for his life to start. To me, this book reads as an excellent example of the phrase “You Only Live Once,” which has become so popular recently. It shows the need to act rather than wait for life to happen to you. It also shows what can happen to someone who is not satisfied with his life, always thinking that life would be better if only circumstances could change (while doing little to effect change or to find a way to enjoy what he currently has).
I particularly enjoyed the glimpse of Chinese life under Mao Tse Tung, where the people appear to be waiting for the benefits of his regime to be made clear. There is one horrific event that came out of the blue, so be prepared for something awful to happen in this otherwise quiet book. I liked it but I felt like I was waiting for a revelation that never occurred.
3.5
July 28, 2024
Lin Kong is a doctor in the army. His parents insist on an arranged marriage with a local girl because they need help on their farm and care as they grow older. Shuyu is illiterate and has bound feet which is unusual for the 1960s. Lin is ashamed of her and, although he provides for her and their daughter, he rarely visits and he never brings them into the city.
Manna is a nurse who is getting too old to be single and is fearful of becoming an old maid (the author’s words, not mine!). A relationship develops between her and Lin but the rules on the army base mean that there can be no physical contact between them. As the years pass and Lin’s parents die, Shuyu is no longer needed and so Lin decides to divorce her so that he can marry Manna. He travels back home to apply to the courts but although Shuyu always says beforehand that she will accept his will, her brother accompanies her to court and persuades the judge to rule against the divorce. This continues for years until Lin becomes resigned to the fact that he will have to wait until they’ve been married for 18 years when, according to the law, he can obtain a divorce without his wife’s consent.
Lin’s relationship with Manna is a stormy one. They are both frustrated at not being able to be together. There are ways around the no contact rule but neither will risk their careers for the sake of sex. Manna is a very emotional woman, tending towards dramatic outbursts, while Lin is very reserved with little experience of emotional life or relationships. They both suffer inner turmoil though even this can have a hint of the ridiculous about it at times. There are many comical moments in fact and so when the book takes an unexpectedly dark turn, it comes as a shock to the reader.
Lin is very academic and is always reading. The available material is very restricted however, and he spends much of his time reading propaganda dressed up as political history. When he has the opportunity to read Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, he struggles to understand the meaning of the poems. Interestingly, and demonstrating the restrictions of cultural education in China at the time, the only one he can identify with is A Song for Occupations:
A song for occupations!
In the labor of engines and trades and the labor of fields I find the developments
And find the eternal meanings.
The contrast between life in the country and life in the city is stark and we follow the changes in both societies over three decades, the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. The lives of individuals are so restricted. There is no equality, only power struggles of one kind or another. Bribery is open only to those with money and little more than the basics are achievable without it. It’s no wonder then that this book, written by a Chinese author living in America, was vilified by the Chinese. Although since translated into the Chinese language, I wonder how accurate the translation is as Jin’s portrayal of social and political conditions is unflattering to say the least.
Ha Jin based this book on a true story he had heard but the character and story development are his. Lin is very uptight, introverted and emotionally immature but he is a good man at heart. He comes to understand where his faults lie and to discover what is really important in his life. I enjoyed reading this very much and became emotionally invested in the outcome. The portrayal of social, educational and cultural control in China through the decades was really interesting. The only reservation I have is that the English it is written in is clearly that of someone for whom it’s not their native language. Some of the words and phrases used are quite archaic, even for the times being portrayed. I realise this is not the fault of the author but perhaps his publisher could have provided some guidance. Mainly for that reason, 4.5 stars.
Manna is a nurse who is getting too old to be single and is fearful of becoming an old maid (the author’s words, not mine!). A relationship develops between her and Lin but the rules on the army base mean that there can be no physical contact between them. As the years pass and Lin’s parents die, Shuyu is no longer needed and so Lin decides to divorce her so that he can marry Manna. He travels back home to apply to the courts but although Shuyu always says beforehand that she will accept his will, her brother accompanies her to court and persuades the judge to rule against the divorce. This continues for years until Lin becomes resigned to the fact that he will have to wait until they’ve been married for 18 years when, according to the law, he can obtain a divorce without his wife’s consent.
Lin’s relationship with Manna is a stormy one. They are both frustrated at not being able to be together. There are ways around the no contact rule but neither will risk their careers for the sake of sex. Manna is a very emotional woman, tending towards dramatic outbursts, while Lin is very reserved with little experience of emotional life or relationships. They both suffer inner turmoil though even this can have a hint of the ridiculous about it at times. There are many comical moments in fact and so when the book takes an unexpectedly dark turn, it comes as a shock to the reader.
Lin is very academic and is always reading. The available material is very restricted however, and he spends much of his time reading propaganda dressed up as political history. When he has the opportunity to read Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, he struggles to understand the meaning of the poems. Interestingly, and demonstrating the restrictions of cultural education in China at the time, the only one he can identify with is A Song for Occupations:
A song for occupations!
In the labor of engines and trades and the labor of fields I find the developments
And find the eternal meanings.
The contrast between life in the country and life in the city is stark and we follow the changes in both societies over three decades, the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. The lives of individuals are so restricted. There is no equality, only power struggles of one kind or another. Bribery is open only to those with money and little more than the basics are achievable without it. It’s no wonder then that this book, written by a Chinese author living in America, was vilified by the Chinese. Although since translated into the Chinese language, I wonder how accurate the translation is as Jin’s portrayal of social and political conditions is unflattering to say the least.
Ha Jin based this book on a true story he had heard but the character and story development are his. Lin is very uptight, introverted and emotionally immature but he is a good man at heart. He comes to understand where his faults lie and to discover what is really important in his life. I enjoyed reading this very much and became emotionally invested in the outcome. The portrayal of social, educational and cultural control in China through the decades was really interesting. The only reservation I have is that the English it is written in is clearly that of someone for whom it’s not their native language. Some of the words and phrases used are quite archaic, even for the times being portrayed. I realise this is not the fault of the author but perhaps his publisher could have provided some guidance. Mainly for that reason, 4.5 stars.
October 15, 2024
The Tartar Steppe but for relationships.
As a young man Lin was pushed by his family into a marriage without love to a woman named Shuyu. They had a daughter named Hua but stopped sleeping together and lived separate lives. Lin worked as a doctor in the city while Shuyu stayed at their country home looking after his elderly parents until they eventually died and raising their daughter. Meanwhile, Lin meets a woman at the hospital called Manna and they develop a platonic relationship but want it to become something more. They agree not to sleep together until he can get divorced otherwise, in communist China, there might be serious consequences. Eventually Lin finds the courage to ask Shuyu for a divorce and she agrees but at the last minute, in the courthouse, she changes her mind. This happens again the following year. Then again the following year.
This pattern continues for 18 years (the amount of time that must pass before a man can get a divorce without his wife's agreement). The whole book is about waiting, about placing all your hopes and dreams on an outcome that, should it ever arrive, will finally give your life meaning and purpose. And so they wait. Year after year. Their lives passing them by as they age and lose all their vigour, attractiveness, and youth. And even when Lin finally gets his divorce and marries Manna, he discovers that he's still not happy because the book isn't actually about waiting, it's about love. Specifically, it's about the fact that so many of us (more than we ever want to admit) don't ever experience the kind of passionate sensual, romantic love that we see in movies. Some people never get that far. They develop feelings, attachments, and care about people... but they never experience that epic weight of falling desperately in love. And Lin is one of those people. He loved neither woman. The circumstances of his life simply forced him into these relationships. And after all that waiting, all those years, he realises at the very end that contentment was the only thing he truly wanted.
The waiting was (just like in the Tartar Steppe) all for nothing.
I enjoyed the book overall but it was only a very basic story with very basic writing. For me the book only became interesting as it played with the theme of life passing us by (in more ways than one) and the notion of pointlessly waiting for life to give you a meaning, some happiness, a purpose. The prose was straight-forward and never challenging, and the book essentially gives you all the information you need in the prologue (filling in the blanks as it goes along). It got the job done. And, despite being ultimately rather prosaic, it did successfully get me thinking about my favourite subject again (that we're all wasting our lives). The only part that perplexed me was the rape which frankly didn't seem to add much. I'm not sure what Ha Jin was implying by having that in the story (get married otherwise you're asking for it??) Not sure. Maybe it was simply to force the reader to sympathise with Manna just at a point where we're mostly sympathising with Shuyu. Hard to say.
So yeah, a pretty average and easy to read book. But one that got me thinking all those lovely existential thoughts again.
As a young man Lin was pushed by his family into a marriage without love to a woman named Shuyu. They had a daughter named Hua but stopped sleeping together and lived separate lives. Lin worked as a doctor in the city while Shuyu stayed at their country home looking after his elderly parents until they eventually died and raising their daughter. Meanwhile, Lin meets a woman at the hospital called Manna and they develop a platonic relationship but want it to become something more. They agree not to sleep together until he can get divorced otherwise, in communist China, there might be serious consequences. Eventually Lin finds the courage to ask Shuyu for a divorce and she agrees but at the last minute, in the courthouse, she changes her mind. This happens again the following year. Then again the following year.
This pattern continues for 18 years (the amount of time that must pass before a man can get a divorce without his wife's agreement). The whole book is about waiting, about placing all your hopes and dreams on an outcome that, should it ever arrive, will finally give your life meaning and purpose. And so they wait. Year after year. Their lives passing them by as they age and lose all their vigour, attractiveness, and youth. And even when Lin finally gets his divorce and marries Manna, he discovers that he's still not happy because the book isn't actually about waiting, it's about love. Specifically, it's about the fact that so many of us (more than we ever want to admit) don't ever experience the kind of passionate sensual, romantic love that we see in movies. Some people never get that far. They develop feelings, attachments, and care about people... but they never experience that epic weight of falling desperately in love. And Lin is one of those people. He loved neither woman. The circumstances of his life simply forced him into these relationships. And after all that waiting, all those years, he realises at the very end that contentment was the only thing he truly wanted.
The waiting was (just like in the Tartar Steppe) all for nothing.
I enjoyed the book overall but it was only a very basic story with very basic writing. For me the book only became interesting as it played with the theme of life passing us by (in more ways than one) and the notion of pointlessly waiting for life to give you a meaning, some happiness, a purpose. The prose was straight-forward and never challenging, and the book essentially gives you all the information you need in the prologue (filling in the blanks as it goes along). It got the job done. And, despite being ultimately rather prosaic, it did successfully get me thinking about my favourite subject again (that we're all wasting our lives). The only part that perplexed me was the rape which frankly didn't seem to add much. I'm not sure what Ha Jin was implying by having that in the story (get married otherwise you're asking for it??) Not sure. Maybe it was simply to force the reader to sympathise with Manna just at a point where we're mostly sympathising with Shuyu. Hard to say.
So yeah, a pretty average and easy to read book. But one that got me thinking all those lovely existential thoughts again.
July 12, 2012
What struck me was its honesty. You may downright dislike some of the characters, it’s almost impossible not too as they seem to make such ludicrous life choices. Once I turned off my inclination to judge, to shut down my mind set of always thinking like a westerner, I thoroughly enjoyed this simple, fable-like tale. Ha Jin offers poetic insight into a foreign way of life. I believe I came away from this with a little better understanding of Chinese society. Found it interesting that the author based this on a true story. Winner of The National Book Award of 1999
May 28, 2018
This book had been haunting me for years and now that I've finished--it still haunts me.
From the first page this book is hard to put down. Yet the writing at times feels like watching a foreign film where the drama on screen is over-acted, while the dialogue is understated. That disconnect never let me completely lose myself in the book.
But, that might just be me. (I recently finished The Sympathizer, which swept me away).
The story though and the window into China, post-revolution, is fantastic.
From the first page this book is hard to put down. Yet the writing at times feels like watching a foreign film where the drama on screen is over-acted, while the dialogue is understated. That disconnect never let me completely lose myself in the book.
But, that might just be me. (I recently finished The Sympathizer, which swept me away).
The story though and the window into China, post-revolution, is fantastic.
August 3, 2008
I enjoyed many things about this book: its clear, simple language; its deceptive simplicity (it's got the rhythm of a folk tale or fable but is layered with meaning and feeling); its quiet, deliberate pace; the rich detail, particularly in descriptions of natural settings which shine with poetry.
I have some complaints as well. The dialogue is often stilted and strange ("bye-bye now") or peppered with odd phrases that distract ("by hook or by crook," "shilly shallying," "tut tut"). Also, though the book is written in third person, the author focuses much more attention on Lin than on Manna, gives more insight into his character, emotions and motives. It feels as if the author doesn’t quite understand Manna and therefore limits his attempts to show us her head and heart, glossing over her inner life even in crucial moments, leaving her character flat and underdeveloped.
Despite these points, I don’t hesitate to recommend Waiting. It’s a sad, graceful allegory about how we let outside forces influence us, diminish our chances of happiness; how we’re each isolated in our own suffering, lonely despite close companions. Lin and Manna’s story is complex and ironic — like life — and if the language isn’t always particularly eloquent, its meaning is.
I will also note (because this sort of thing always influences my opinion—I’m such a sucker!) that Ha Jin received the 1999 National Book Award for Waiting.
I have some complaints as well. The dialogue is often stilted and strange ("bye-bye now") or peppered with odd phrases that distract ("by hook or by crook," "shilly shallying," "tut tut"). Also, though the book is written in third person, the author focuses much more attention on Lin than on Manna, gives more insight into his character, emotions and motives. It feels as if the author doesn’t quite understand Manna and therefore limits his attempts to show us her head and heart, glossing over her inner life even in crucial moments, leaving her character flat and underdeveloped.
Despite these points, I don’t hesitate to recommend Waiting. It’s a sad, graceful allegory about how we let outside forces influence us, diminish our chances of happiness; how we’re each isolated in our own suffering, lonely despite close companions. Lin and Manna’s story is complex and ironic — like life — and if the language isn’t always particularly eloquent, its meaning is.
I will also note (because this sort of thing always influences my opinion—I’m such a sucker!) that Ha Jin received the 1999 National Book Award for Waiting.
December 30, 2020
What is the measure of a man?
Waiting tells the tale of a man torn between two worlds: one of tradition and one of modernity. The new China, the Cultural Revolution China, with its rules, its regulations, its Leap Forwards, its hidden moralities and hidden hierarchies and hidden corruptions. And then the other world, a standstill, where little changes, where the food tastes better, and people treat you like family; but also, a world where women still have their bound feet and your neighbours treat your life as though they own it.
Lin Kong navigates these two worlds with a superficial easiness. He accepts tacitly what happens to him in both of them as though it was natural. He accepts to marry a woman he doesn’t love because that’s what his parents wanted. He is pushed around by everyone: from the army to his superiors to his supposed mistress. He cannot make his mind about anything because deep down he doesn’t feel strongly about anything. He doesn’t love his wife, but he is also not particularly in love with Manna Wu either. He is just there, taking things as they come, trying not to hurt anyone, trying not to create problems. But his inactivity itself is a problem. This is a man who wants everything and nothing at all.
I would recommend it. It is a good book about Modern China and even more impressive when you consider that English is the author’s second language.
Waiting tells the tale of a man torn between two worlds: one of tradition and one of modernity. The new China, the Cultural Revolution China, with its rules, its regulations, its Leap Forwards, its hidden moralities and hidden hierarchies and hidden corruptions. And then the other world, a standstill, where little changes, where the food tastes better, and people treat you like family; but also, a world where women still have their bound feet and your neighbours treat your life as though they own it.
Lin Kong navigates these two worlds with a superficial easiness. He accepts tacitly what happens to him in both of them as though it was natural. He accepts to marry a woman he doesn’t love because that’s what his parents wanted. He is pushed around by everyone: from the army to his superiors to his supposed mistress. He cannot make his mind about anything because deep down he doesn’t feel strongly about anything. He doesn’t love his wife, but he is also not particularly in love with Manna Wu either. He is just there, taking things as they come, trying not to hurt anyone, trying not to create problems. But his inactivity itself is a problem. This is a man who wants everything and nothing at all.
I would recommend it. It is a good book about Modern China and even more impressive when you consider that English is the author’s second language.
June 6, 2007
Good winter read. Walks you through the emotional details of a man's life as he struggles with choosing between his life in the rural Chinese countryside and his work at a military base in a large city. He spends 11 years agonizing over whether to leave his simple wife and child behind for a more modern life with a military nurse. Ha Jin is a master at making you feel the magnitude of the decision by building sympathy with each character. At the same time, his detailed account of everyday life makes you cringe with tension and an appreciation of your own ambition to make things happen. In the end, you're left wondering how much of your life is wasted away on decisions that are prolonged by guilt and ambiguity.
April 19, 2008
This book did make me feel like I was waiting, so maybe it did what it set out to do. But it wasn't a good kind of waiting. It was the kind of waiting I used to do when I would have to go to some government office with my parents and they would make me sit still and behave myself, and I would feel a terrible physical ache in unmentionable parts of my body from having to contain so much desire to fidget. Actually, that sounds a lot more exciting than this book was.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,301 reviews