Eileen Chang is the English name for Chinese author 張愛玲, who was born to a prominent family in Shanghai (one of her great-grandfathers was Li Hongzhang) in 1920.
She went to a prestigious girls' school in Shanghai, where she changed her name from Chang Ying to Chang Ai-ling to match her English name, Eileen. Afterwards, she attended the University of Hong Kong, but had to go back to Shanghai when Hong Kong fell to Japan during WWII. While in Shanghai, she was briefly married to Hu Lancheng, the notorious Japanese collaborator, but later got a divorce.
After WWII ended, she returned to Hong Kong and later immigrated to the United States in 1955. She married a scriptwriter in 1956 and worked as a screenwriter herself for a Hong Kong film studio for a number of years, before her husband's death in 1967. She moved from New York to Los Angeles in 1972 and became a hermit of sorts during her last years. She passed away alone in her apartment in 1995.
The writing in Eileen Chang's Love in a Fallen City is poetic, symbolic, mysterious. There is much to like in this later novel, Naked Earth. It is, first, a good story, with many searing, memorable vignettes. And there are a handful of wonderfully shaped characters, including Ko Shan, described as a "tubercular nymphomaniac," whom I found especially endearing.
But something has changed. The War that billowed outside the Fallen City is over. Now it is Korea, seemingly. Or, maybe the battleground, instead, is the Chinese people; and the armies are political systems; the weapons, propaganda. You know, Fake News.
What Chang wrote here, we were taught. So no judgement, no horror, sounded false.
Yet, what gnaws at me is that this novel (and others) of Chang was commissioned by the United States Information Service as anti-Communist propaganda. Every word might be true. Chang insisted every word was true. It is nevertheless undeniable that the U.S. spooks got what they paid for.
Perry Link, a self-described China scholar, concedes the point that Chang was paid - a "grant" he calls it - by the United States government to write this but says the significance of the purchase has been exaggerated. In an Introduction to this book, he says it is "far-fetched" to think it distorted her writing because "she is too powerful a writer for that." He seems to be suggesting that E.L. James might be bought off, but not William Gass.
Sorry. The Russians took out ads in Facebook; it doesn't matter if that influenced a single vote. And Shoeless Joe Jackson pocketed the $10,000 from gamblers; and so it shouldn't matter that he batted .375 and didn't commit an error in the 1919 World Series.
So, I struggle with the fact that Chang wrote a novel about Chinese propagandists while she was paid to do so by American propagandists. I found that more than a little ironical.
Near the end of this book, the chief protagonist, Liu, wonders what will happen to him as a prisoner of war. Will he be repatriated to China? Permitted to go to Taiwan? Maybe India?
. . . actually, he thought, who can tell about nations?
I tried to not like this novel. I didn't even want to read it. But I did read it, and I did like it. A lot. I'd started Naked Earth once before, probably a couple of years ago. But I'd lost interest right away when I read in the "Introduction" by Perry Link that the novel had been one of Chang's novels commissioned with a grant from the United States Information Service and intended to describe the mercilessly oppressive face of Mao's China. Link goes on to write that Chang is too good a writer to let her fiction be "distorted" for political reasons. However firmly I agree with that now, at the time I plunged into the first chapters of the novel to be greeted with a portrait of, as I expected, mechanical obedience, rote thinking, and dogmatic manipulation during the land reform movement in China's rural areas, I'd decided I didn't want to read what I thought was a polemic. I set the novel aside. Earlier this year I'd read one of Chang's later novels, the autobiographical Little Reunions. It presented different challenges, a narrative shifting back and forth across decades and one populated by a cast of over a hundred characters, many known by more than one name or title. I never really engaged with Little Reunions--held at arm's length by its tangle of characters--and I didn't want to read Naked Earth.
But you understand how it is. We're obligated to the books we own. They want to be read. They expect to be read and wait shelved or piled on table or floor for their time to come. They want to be used, they wait for the opportunity to tell us what they know. So I came back to Naked Earth. I'd finished a novel--I forget which--and casting around for what to read next I was confronted for the umpteenth time with Naked Earth and felt that tug of guilt again. And dating as it did from sometime in 2015, it was the oldest unread book I had. So I began it again but skipped Perry Link's "Introduction." I dove right into the first chapter.
I liked the novel and admire it. It's a novel of revolutionary China in the years 1949 to 1953, during the period of the communist consolidation of power. I did struggle a bit in the opening chapters dealing with rural land reform and such anticipated ideas as self-criticisms, cadres, and struggle sessions, but, their work completed in the tiny village, Chang quickly shifts her characters to propaganda work on newspapers in Peking and Shanghai. The same personal dangers always threaten wherever they are. They're subjected to constant scrutiny and evaluation, and they attend many meetings aimed at strengthening political devotion and correcting any deviations of behavior. Chang carefully writes each character tiptoeing through mine fields of how to act and mind what you say, all part of playing "chess moves aimed at minimizing punishment." It's a harsh, rigid life. But what I like best about the novel is that it's not political. Chang wrote a novel which puts a human face on people caught in the inhumanity of Chinese revolutionary political struggles. To me it's much more a novel of personal interactions within a sterile system. Maybe what the USIS wanted was a polemic. That what they got is more like a tragic romance or a romantic tragedy caused by conditions of state may say all it needs to about political perceptions. What I got was a novel set alight by love. The final groundswells are energized by love, not revolution.
At the beginning, I thought this might be an easygoing novel of pastoral life in China. But this is Mao's China, so it turned nasty real quick, what with all the torturing of landlords and then the bizarro world red scare, where you are kidnapped and imprisoned for not being a Communist. I didn't know much about Mao's takeover of China, and this book, along with subsequent Wikipedia meanderings was a good introduction to the perversity of his misguided revolution.
It's a really sad book, but that sadness is mitigated by a rather dispassionate narrative style and (possibly) the lack of immediacy inherent in translated works. It's a good book, but not terribly exciting and I found myself more intellectually piqued due to my unfamiliarity with the subject matter than I was emotionally moved by the story.
"Naked Earth" suffers only from two flaws, one good, the other iffy. The good flaw is that the several denouements, the several endings that keep coming at you are infuriating. They made me mad. They made me want to toss the novel down and go saw away at a bunion or hemorrhoid (not recommended!). This is a good thing because, like any good story, it proves you wrong. That's one of the great powers of storytelling and Chang uses it to such incredible effect that you'll keep reading a few paragraphs beyond the surprise before you realize what just happened. The not-so-good flaw is that the book, far from alone, tends to get lost in itself. There is a love story and then there is a story about one of those people in love negotiating the zany political scene of China in the early 1950s, but you're never really quite sure which one matters more. I know there's a lot of chatter in the lit crit world about Chang, her loyalties, and "how can she write about this if she wasn't there". Whatever. Readers in China, some of whom must've lived through this period read this and love it. Plus, it's fiction. It can only be so real. No, the only issue I had with this often loving and quiet novel is its schizophrenia when it comes to its two main themes. It resolves itself in favor of the political approach (I think). Or maybe it doesn't. Anyway--read it!
pacing-wise, this definitely does not beat love in a fallen city. but it’s very interesting to see how the historical context plays a much more prominent role in this one because of who was commissioning it! bit of politics, bit of love, bit of sadness, bit of war … haunting stuff but there just is something so calming for me in reading chinese fiction
For some reason I keep opening books by Eileen Chang and expecting a happy ending. Don’t do that unless you want your heart broken.
The tone and writing style of Naked Earth is very similar to Half a Lifelong Romance. Whereas Half a Lifelong Romance is more of a family saga and a story of young love, Naked Earth is a story of young love and a totalitarian state. The two are interdependent though and Chang weaves them together in order to examine the brutality of the Chinese cultural revolution.
I found Naked Earth a much more difficult read and more along the lines of Human Acts by Han Kang in how Chang depicts state brutality and control. In Half a Lifelong Romance, tensions centre around family and work, the differences between personal and familial desires, and the difficulty of working in state controlled industries. The title Naked Earth is incredibly apt as Chang strips open the mundane violence of the everyday. This is a story of the decisions people make, willingly as they preach the powers of the regime, and passively as they try to get through life without winding up in prison or executed. The violence is even more shocking by the banality of it. And in the centre of this is a story of young love between Liu Ch’uen and Su Nan, two young students who are sent to the countryside as part of land reform.
The opening of the book with Liu Ch’uen and Su Nan’s relationship on their way out to the countryside and their arrival in a small village, almost imbues the book with a small sense of hope and optimism. I knew what was going to happen, but Chang’s writing of the tenderness of relationships lulled me into a sense of false security. It’s the juxtaposition between Liu Ch’uen and Su Nan’s budding relationship and the actions of the Communist government that allows the blooming brutality to dig deeper into the reader. It’s a slow moving blight across the fields and an illness through the streets of the city. You don’t expect it but suddenly it’s everywhere, a fevered adoration of the regime and passive acceptance in order to stay alive. And slowly, Chang allows the regime to separate and wound the young lovers.
Again, this is not a happy ending. All the promises of young love don’t actually mean that the flower gets to fully mature. Eileen Chang is an author I keep coming back to and plan on reading all of her work one day, even though each book emotionally hurts me. This is one of her major strengths though, the ability to score a story open and reveal what lies beneath the earth.
Young lovers navigate the beginning of Mao's revolution in China.
Book Review:Naked Earth is beautifully and superbly written. Every page has some small brilliancy, a turn of phrase, a description realer than reality, a moment of wisdom, a piercing insight into human nature, psychology, behavior. Eileen Chang is a virtuoso and her work is a graduate seminar in writing. But there is some small something missing here, not quite there, lurking at the shadowy fringes. I know from the book's history that this was a commissioned work of propaganda, though except for a time or two I never thought "propaganda." It seemed grabbed from life, as authentic as Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, which also seemed genuine. What keeps it from being "mere" propaganda is both the verisimilitude and the individuality of human experiences, the true-to-life details of human existence. If anything, the doomed dystopian love story reminded me of Orwell's 1984, but given its reality, Naked Earth was better. What's missing, I'm guessing is that this was not the story Chang would have chosen to tell -- beautifully, brilliantly written, but she would've put it some place else and taken a different path. So while each page is worth the price of admission, as a whole the book may be less compelling for readers without some knowledge of Chinese history. Naked Earth, in sum, attests to Chang's brilliance as a writer. Gorgeous, genius, gentle, but missing just a sliver of the writer's heart. [3½★]
The book is good, but loses its way in the last few chapters. The author knew where the story was going, but I think she wasn't sure how to get there. Still a good read though.
de intelligente en ambitieuze Liu hoopt het te maken tot de top vlakbij de Communistische Partij, net als miljoenen anderen. hij wordt al vroeg geconfronteerd met de realiteit van de politiek die gelijkwaardigheid als standaard preekt naar de buitenwereld toe, maar ondertussen de excessen van de revolutionaire moraal van dichtbij meemaakt. Liu werkt mee aan de draconische landhervormingen ten koste van het feodale stelsel in het agrarische Noord-China, waarin hij al gauw doorheeft welke twijfelachtige bevelen van bovenaf gemaakt worden, die vaak eindigen in mensonterende gruwelen die het daglicht niet kunnen verdragen. rebelleren, met alle gevolgen van dien, is hoe dan ook geen duurzaam alternatief- om die reden ploetert de jongeman door en wordt hij verder geabsorbeerd in het systeem; het constant op eierschalen lopen door de propaganda, censuur, onvrijheid en bijkomende misere. tijdens het hoogtepunt van de Three Anti-campagne waarin gepoogd wordt alle onreine communisten in hoge rangen te achterhalen en straffen voor hun daden, worden ook verschillende mensen in zijn werkomgeving geraakt, evenals zijn vriendin Su en hijzelf. tegen alle verwachtingen in komt hij levend uit alle kritische overhoringen en de wekenlange opsluiting, eenmaal buiten wordt hij direct overdonderd met slecht nieuws over Su. uitzichtloosheid in China en het verlies van zijn status en lietde dwingen hem tot het opgeven van het huidige leven en het leger te dienen in de strijd tegen de imperialisten in Korea. hier onkomt hij maar niet aan de heersende, binaire wereld die is gecreëerd: China en de Sovietunie tegen het Westen, met amper ruimte voor nuance of identiteiten daartussenin. ondanks het feit dat Liu aanvankelijk overweegt zijn thuisland te verlaten, kiest hij er op het allerlaatste moment toch voor om terug te keren: op andere plekken zal hij zich ontheemd voelen, niet thuishoren, doelloos door het nieuwe leven dwalen. en ondanks alles, zo redeneert hij, is het ook zíjn China, dat van miljarden anderen, en niet uitsluitend bestemd voor de heersende macht: je proeft vertrouwen en hoop, het vooruitzicht dat er, ookal is de tijd nu nog niet rijp, het op den duur toch kan transformeren in een natie waar hij trots op kan zijn.
Excellent book and much more impactful than Lust, Caution. Set against Mao's cultural revolution, the characters set out with idealistic aims of where China should be, but along the way become disillusioned by their own repression.
Incorporating elements of authority, friendships and love, this book not only gives a greater insight into the times that the Chinese youth faced during these difficult moments.
I was surprised to find that this 1956 book by a respected Chinese author was sponsored by the US "Information Service" - and doubly surprised in the light of the fact that I bought it from a prominent display in a large Shanghai bookstore this year. It certainly doesn't leave Mao's Land Reform movement smelling of roses, but on the other hand it doesn't read as simple propaganda. Yet if China is so full of thought control, I wouldn't have thought it would be available in China at all.
It seems to be more complex than simple anti-communist propaganda. I learned a lot.
In its complexity, this story of passion in support and betrayal of radical social and economic change resonates with the events unfolding locally and globally in 2017. The crude brutality of torture and killing of people fingered as anti-revolutionary is awful, and yet this is not a simple critique. Chang digs much deeper than Mao's injunction that "excesses are a necessary part of the revolutionary process" and also much deeper than simply condemning the communist revolution.
There is real passion for change, real awareness that it no longer fits our values for some people to be condemned to rural poverty just because of the births of their ancestors. There is also real grappling with the way revolutionary fervour can be deeply corrupted by people using it to settle personal scores and advance sectarian agendas. In the end, in this book, there is no completely solid ground from which to judge the complex and tragic process of change.
Along the way there are many useful indicators of what happens when things go wrong - familiar and relevant today in countries with leadership of the sort of Donald Trump or Jacob Zuma. One of the scary ones is about guilt by association - for example loved ones of somebody grabbed by the political police hastening the death of their beloved by making a noise about their unfair incarceration, and then themselves being arrested too.
Ooooh! A masterful, sprawling epic somehow condensed into about 300 pages, Chang's depiction of an idealist Commissar (that's not quite the right term but here we go) trying to survive Land Reform, the 3 anti campaign and then the Korean war manages to be vast in scope and also beautiful line to line.Stylistically, Chang's particular genius lies in her depiction of erotic romance (I think gun to my head I might have enjoyed Love in a Fallen City, which deals with this subject primarily, slightly more), but there are some really fabulously clever plot choices here which allow for a depiction of the horrors of Mao's China while still allowing for some rough glimmer of optimism. Keep. Chang is a rare talent.
Very, very good, for the most part. The last 5 chapters, however, were a bit of a letdown. Chang created some interesting characters, and then allowed them to fade away. Liu was a bit of a cipher compared to characters like Ko Shan and Su Nan. I would have rather the story conclude with him working to figure out what happened to Su Nan, or avenge her, or whatever. The war scenes and POW storyline seemed to be part of an entirely different book (which would have been interesting as well, had they been expanded on).
Chang's more famous works like "The Golden Cangue" and "Love in a Fallen City" and "Lust, Caution" don't prepare the reader for the mastery of language she uses to illustrate life for ambitious young minds in China during the early Mao years. To prepare for her talents, it were best to read George Orwell. Carefully. Thanks to City Weekend Beijing for giving me a chance to publish a review (the book is not readily available in China, but that's just another reason we call it a country of contradictions):
(3.5 stars.) While one could argue that the general storyline in Naked Earth flirts with cliché and predictability, there's no denying the stark power in its specifics. At the halfway point meet up of my book club, I predicted Chang’s book would end in tears and I wasn’t far off. If Naked Earth isn’t a home run example of poetic literature, it’s still an eye-opening history lesson and cautionary tale of leftist overreach that we’re still seeing the effects of 60+ years on in present day China.
Takes place in China. Mao's China is in transition. Young students volunteer to go the countryside to indoctrinate farmers about the governments plans for land reform. It's during this process that two young students fall in love. The government is in complete control of everyday life. They meet again in Shanghai where life is hectic and closed to any freedoms, and are watched and informed on. Insightful and tragic.
To me, Naked Earth is an example of realist literature. She brought the reality through fine details of what war was/is really like for those who have never experienced being in such a situation. The premise and style that depicted the daily culture and life is a familiar theme found in other Chinese/Japanese literature, which can feel cumbersome, at times. This book is great to read and to discuss with others on its parallels and relations to current societal times.
Absolutely beautiful and poetic writing in service of a heartbreakingly tragic story. The love story between two idealistic young students in Mao’s China quickly becomes a tale of sorrow, torture, and fear. It’s a gorgeous book in many respects. Chang’s detailed descriptions of people and landscapes feels deeply personal, but witnessing the violent abuse of power and the abject surrender of human decency over 500 pages proves hard going.
At p 25, worth reading, written by former China citizen and writer, for the U.S. gov't in the 50's, good to help understand China in the early days of the revolutionary gov't and various "leaps", and the language of survival. Reissued, and still important. Retuning to library, will re-request another time.
I'm into Chang's Naked Earth for its historical significance and relevance in deciphering the warning signs of authoritarianism in the present. The narrative arc leaves a bit to be desired, though.
This book was a recommendation from Jenn. I really enjoyed it once I got into it. Not knowing a lot about Chinese history, this book definitely helped to paint a picture of the times for me.