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Wang in Love and Bondage: Three Novellas by Wang Xiaobo
Acclaimed as one of the most important writers of twentieth-century China, the late Wang Xiaobo (1952-1997) is known for his frank, often antic treatment of sex and his gift for reveling in human absurdity and provoking laughter from horror. Comprised of three novellas, "The Golden Age," "East Palace, West Palace," and "2015," this book is the first English translation of his work.
"East Palace, West Palace," one of the first contemporary Chinese fictional works dealing with male homosexuality, is an S/M-oriented love story between a masochistic gay writer and a handsome policeman unaware of his sadistic tendencies. In "The Golden Age," for which Wang Xiaobo is perhaps best known, the protagonist, Wang Er (literally, Wang number two) is a city student sent to the countryside for rustification during the Cultural Revolution. There he meets a lovely young doctor whom he encourages to live up to her undeserved reputation as "damaged goods." In "2015," another Wang Er, after being put into a labor camp for practicing painting without a license, becomes the love object of a sadistic policewoman.
Although the sexual and social roles of Wang Xiaobo's characters intertwine, sexuality functions not as protest but as an absurd metaphor for state power and the voluntary, even enthusiastic, collaboration of those subject to it. Full of deadpan humor and oddball sex, Wang Xiaobo's novellas allow us to see, through a subtly shifting kaleidoscope, scenes from the elaborate dance the individual must do with the state in twentieth-century China.
"East Palace, West Palace," one of the first contemporary Chinese fictional works dealing with male homosexuality, is an S/M-oriented love story between a masochistic gay writer and a handsome policeman unaware of his sadistic tendencies. In "The Golden Age," for which Wang Xiaobo is perhaps best known, the protagonist, Wang Er (literally, Wang number two) is a city student sent to the countryside for rustification during the Cultural Revolution. There he meets a lovely young doctor whom he encourages to live up to her undeserved reputation as "damaged goods." In "2015," another Wang Er, after being put into a labor camp for practicing painting without a license, becomes the love object of a sadistic policewoman.
Although the sexual and social roles of Wang Xiaobo's characters intertwine, sexuality functions not as protest but as an absurd metaphor for state power and the voluntary, even enthusiastic, collaboration of those subject to it. Full of deadpan humor and oddball sex, Wang Xiaobo's novellas allow us to see, through a subtly shifting kaleidoscope, scenes from the elaborate dance the individual must do with the state in twentieth-century China.
155 pages, Hardcover
First published March 8, 2007
19 people are currently reading
580 people want to read
About the author
Wang Xiaobo
104 books160 followersWang Xiaobo (Chinese: 王小波) was a Chinese writer who became famous after his death.
Wang Xiaobo on paper-republic.org.
Wang was born in an intellectual family in Beijing in 1952. He was sent to a farm in Yunnan province as an "intellectual youth" at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution in 1968. In 1971, he was sent to the countryside of Shandong province, and became a teacher. In 1972, he was allowed to return to Beijing, and he got a job as a working in a local factory. He met Li Yinhe in 1977, who was working as an editor for "Guangming Daily", and she later became his wife. He was accepted by Renmin University of China in 1978 where he studied economics and trade and got his Bachelor's Degree. He received his Master's Degree at the University of Pittsburgh in 1988. After he returned to China, he began to teach at Peking University and Renmin University of China. He quit his job as a college lecturer in 1992, and became a freelance writer. On April 11, 1997 he died suddenly of heart disease at his apartment.
Wang Xiaobo on paper-republic.org.
Wang was born in an intellectual family in Beijing in 1952. He was sent to a farm in Yunnan province as an "intellectual youth" at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution in 1968. In 1971, he was sent to the countryside of Shandong province, and became a teacher. In 1972, he was allowed to return to Beijing, and he got a job as a working in a local factory. He met Li Yinhe in 1977, who was working as an editor for "Guangming Daily", and she later became his wife. He was accepted by Renmin University of China in 1978 where he studied economics and trade and got his Bachelor's Degree. He received his Master's Degree at the University of Pittsburgh in 1988. After he returned to China, he began to teach at Peking University and Renmin University of China. He quit his job as a college lecturer in 1992, and became a freelance writer. On April 11, 1997 he died suddenly of heart disease at his apartment.
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
May 3, 2009
Even though this book is messy, it is amazing.
This left me with the impression that artists were something like sacks. The only difference between the two is that when you get tangled up with a sack, you have to move it away with your hands; when you stumble over an artist, you kick him and he will move off by himself.
We all know that in the past, when people killed a hog, they always inflated it first, and then used a primitive technique to remove its hair. There is also a saying that a dead hog is not afraid to be scalded by boiling water, which indicated stoicism. My uncle puffed himself up in order to show that he was a dead hog, unafraid of boiling water.
When we really had nothing to say, we would talk about how the crickets from Wan An public cemetery were pretty good at fighting because they fed on dead people's flesh. I said, of course, crickets couldn't be tougher than rats no matter how good they were at fighting. The policeman said it's illegal to fight rats because they spread plague. Well, since it was illegal to fight rats, I shut my mouth.
The moral of the story is: if you fear being killed, you can't be an artist. You can only be a physicist. As you know, I'm a novelist now, which is also considered a type of artist. But it's not that I'm no longer afraid of being killed--my mother has passed away and no one is threatening to kill me anymore.
To be more specific, the garbage consisted of onionskins, eggshells, and all kinds of plastic bags, which smelled terrible. Everyone wanted it clean but felt whoever did the cleaning would be a sucker.
I stopped thinking of her, except for occasionally thinking that she might still be thinking of me.
Only when I got up the bank did I start pulling them off one by one and burning them. They turned soft and blistery in the fire. All of a sudden, I felt very frustrated and tired, nothing like a twenty-one-year-old. I realized I would get old quickly if things continued like this.
The woman tied her up, starting from her hands and then running the rope over her neck and arms to make a knot. She apologized, I'm just hopeless at tying people up.
A person had to accomplish a few things in life and this was one of them. After that she didn't have deep relationships with other people. It's no fun doing the same things over and over.
Things that really happen have incomparable charm.
Time stops right at the instant that he is about to start reading but hasn't.
He didn't especially dislike women, nor did he especially like men. He just hated ugly things and liked beautiful things.
When you want to give love, you're a man; when you want to receive love, you're a woman. There is nothing more unimportant than whether you're a man or woman.
He said, as long and you yearn to be loved, beauty will come when you beckon.
This left me with the impression that artists were something like sacks. The only difference between the two is that when you get tangled up with a sack, you have to move it away with your hands; when you stumble over an artist, you kick him and he will move off by himself.
We all know that in the past, when people killed a hog, they always inflated it first, and then used a primitive technique to remove its hair. There is also a saying that a dead hog is not afraid to be scalded by boiling water, which indicated stoicism. My uncle puffed himself up in order to show that he was a dead hog, unafraid of boiling water.
When we really had nothing to say, we would talk about how the crickets from Wan An public cemetery were pretty good at fighting because they fed on dead people's flesh. I said, of course, crickets couldn't be tougher than rats no matter how good they were at fighting. The policeman said it's illegal to fight rats because they spread plague. Well, since it was illegal to fight rats, I shut my mouth.
The moral of the story is: if you fear being killed, you can't be an artist. You can only be a physicist. As you know, I'm a novelist now, which is also considered a type of artist. But it's not that I'm no longer afraid of being killed--my mother has passed away and no one is threatening to kill me anymore.
To be more specific, the garbage consisted of onionskins, eggshells, and all kinds of plastic bags, which smelled terrible. Everyone wanted it clean but felt whoever did the cleaning would be a sucker.
I stopped thinking of her, except for occasionally thinking that she might still be thinking of me.
Only when I got up the bank did I start pulling them off one by one and burning them. They turned soft and blistery in the fire. All of a sudden, I felt very frustrated and tired, nothing like a twenty-one-year-old. I realized I would get old quickly if things continued like this.
The woman tied her up, starting from her hands and then running the rope over her neck and arms to make a knot. She apologized, I'm just hopeless at tying people up.
A person had to accomplish a few things in life and this was one of them. After that she didn't have deep relationships with other people. It's no fun doing the same things over and over.
Things that really happen have incomparable charm.
Time stops right at the instant that he is about to start reading but hasn't.
He didn't especially dislike women, nor did he especially like men. He just hated ugly things and liked beautiful things.
When you want to give love, you're a man; when you want to receive love, you're a woman. There is nothing more unimportant than whether you're a man or woman.
He said, as long and you yearn to be loved, beauty will come when you beckon.
January 1, 2021
Psst, over here!....I love this and I need a cigarette.
It has been so long since I've read something so energetic and just a tad perverted. I want to share this with friends and leave the pdf on public bathroom floors. It's so good that it makes me sad it took so long for Wang Xiaobo and me to make each other's acquaintance.
"2015" by itself won me over. A slightly 1984-style dystopia where a painter loses his permit because the authorities ask him what his weird paintings mean, and he says "I dunno." Oh, and they make his gun-toting wife horny. Somewhere, Kafka, Orwell, Lu Xun, and Oscar Wilde are rolling around in their graves wishing they had wrote this.
The big problem though is "Golden Age" and "East Palace, West Palace" are really, really good too. ("Golden Age" itself has one of the best endings I've read). Wang takes an Italian Boccaccio-sense of humor and turns a sex comedy into a thoughtful reflection on the Chinese Cultural Revolution and Chinese culture overall. Whether it's loose women or gay men, Wang's protagonists aren't exactly anarchists. In fact, they're about the only one's willing to admit in their world of humiliation and subjugation that...it kinda gets em off.
Wang's nonlinear repetitive storytelling may turn off quite a few people. But if you are patient with him, his meanings unfurl and bloom. With an elegant touch he can create a wonderfully sad story from a simple silly premise:
It has been so long since I've read something so energetic and just a tad perverted. I want to share this with friends and leave the pdf on public bathroom floors. It's so good that it makes me sad it took so long for Wang Xiaobo and me to make each other's acquaintance.
Incidentally, my young aunt enjoyed making love to my uncle very much. She would get very excited and cry out every time. Then she would handcuff her left hand to my uncle, hold the pistol in her right hand, pointing it at my uncle’s head
[...]
By the time they were sufficiently well acquainted, he learned that the gun didn’t have any bullets, which really pissed him off: he would rather have gotten killed by an accidentally discharged bullet than worry for no reason.
"2015" by itself won me over. A slightly 1984-style dystopia where a painter loses his permit because the authorities ask him what his weird paintings mean, and he says "I dunno." Oh, and they make his gun-toting wife horny. Somewhere, Kafka, Orwell, Lu Xun, and Oscar Wilde are rolling around in their graves wishing they had wrote this.
The big problem though is "Golden Age" and "East Palace, West Palace" are really, really good too. ("Golden Age" itself has one of the best endings I've read). Wang takes an Italian Boccaccio-sense of humor and turns a sex comedy into a thoughtful reflection on the Chinese Cultural Revolution and Chinese culture overall. Whether it's loose women or gay men, Wang's protagonists aren't exactly anarchists. In fact, they're about the only one's willing to admit in their world of humiliation and subjugation that...it kinda gets em off.
When she dressed neatly and richly, she was waiting for sex; when she left her hair uncombed and her face unwashed, it meant she would reject sex. This was the complete opposite of other people. In this way, she was as eccentric as Madonna, who liked to wear her underwear on the outside.
Wang's nonlinear repetitive storytelling may turn off quite a few people. But if you are patient with him, his meanings unfurl and bloom. With an elegant touch he can create a wonderfully sad story from a simple silly premise:
As for the young policeman, we know that every time he worked the night shift, he would arrest a gay man to keep him company.
April 25, 2018
Review of East Palace, West Palace, 1 out of 3 novellas in this book.
From a reading-for-entertainment point of view, I can't say that I liked this story. The plot is developed in a convoluted manner, without chronology. There's also a story inside the story that serves as a metaphor. Then, there's the content that is really quite disturbing and sad, all wrapped in some positivity and enticement that I find unbefitting.
Trigger warnings for homophobia, misogyny, rape, torture, captivity.
Good thing, I didn't read this for pleasure, then. For my bachelor thesis on relations between gender and homosexual practices in Chinese fiction, I am still looking for more stories to analyse, and this story is worth a second look at least.
Um, cannot recommend. Well, only if you want to read this for scientific or educational reasons ;-)
From a reading-for-entertainment point of view, I can't say that I liked this story. The plot is developed in a convoluted manner, without chronology. There's also a story inside the story that serves as a metaphor. Then, there's the content that is really quite disturbing and sad, all wrapped in some positivity and enticement that I find unbefitting.
Trigger warnings for homophobia, misogyny, rape, torture, captivity.
Good thing, I didn't read this for pleasure, then. For my bachelor thesis on relations between gender and homosexual practices in Chinese fiction, I am still looking for more stories to analyse, and this story is worth a second look at least.
Um, cannot recommend. Well, only if you want to read this for scientific or educational reasons ;-)
August 30, 2019
not so sure about this translation
April 27, 2020
Scandalous, hilarious, but at the same time tragic stories from a modern Chinese master narrator.
June 6, 2023
WANG IN LOVE AND BONDAGE—three novellas by Wang Xiaobo (1952-1997)
One of China’s most intriguing and popular writers of the 20th century, Wang lived to defy rules. By all accounts happily heterosexual, his Foucault-inspired “Sentiments Like Water” became a gay film classic, East Palace, West Palace, about an S/M relationship between a closeted policeman and the young gay man he arrests for lewd behaviour. That story is included here, along with the wickedly subversive black comedy 2015, featuring an artist who is imprisoned for making and selling art that confuses his viewers. Kafkaesque, and with the subversive role reversals we see in Genet, this story puts everything absurdly irrational about institutionalized Chinese communism on the chopping block. A final story, The Golden Age, is a meditation on sex, love and gender, when two lovers go on a journey of self-discovery after the woman is wrongly accused of indecent behaviour and the man convinces her to live up to her reputation as “damaged goods” rather than deny it. Powerful and profound, it reminds me of Marguerite Duras’s The Lover.
One of China’s most intriguing and popular writers of the 20th century, Wang lived to defy rules. By all accounts happily heterosexual, his Foucault-inspired “Sentiments Like Water” became a gay film classic, East Palace, West Palace, about an S/M relationship between a closeted policeman and the young gay man he arrests for lewd behaviour. That story is included here, along with the wickedly subversive black comedy 2015, featuring an artist who is imprisoned for making and selling art that confuses his viewers. Kafkaesque, and with the subversive role reversals we see in Genet, this story puts everything absurdly irrational about institutionalized Chinese communism on the chopping block. A final story, The Golden Age, is a meditation on sex, love and gender, when two lovers go on a journey of self-discovery after the woman is wrongly accused of indecent behaviour and the man convinces her to live up to her reputation as “damaged goods” rather than deny it. Powerful and profound, it reminds me of Marguerite Duras’s The Lover.
September 21, 2017
if you meet a little buddha, re-educate him
July 18, 2018
Unbelievably good. I wonder why I waited so many years to read his books. If you can, please read his books in Chinese.
June 17, 2020
Fantastic read. A great translation that (presumably) carries over the author's writing style.
February 14, 2021
Disgusting. I love it
January 24, 2023
Vulgär och ganska obscen novellsamling. Har hört om Wang Xiaobo och ville läsa något av honom men måste ha fått tag på en av hans sämre böcker. Tvungen att läsa ut för att se om jag missade något.
March 26, 2024
2,5 ou 3... não sei ainda
bdsm (bom demais ser monogamico)
bdsm (bom demais ser monogamico)
December 17, 2016
This translated book is completely absurd, and wildly entertaining. There is an underlying cultural repression, and sexual deviants that inspires the characters all the novellas. Nothing makes much sense, which is why this is a fun read.
May 4, 2008
All three of these novellas explore questions of art and sex in the context of a totalitarian state (specifically, the Cultural Revolution) with that sad-funny irony that I guess we call post-modern: Kafka + Catch 22 + Kundera + Maoist China. Of course, sex is a metaphor; and, of course, the state is a metaphor. Art may be a metaphor, too; but there are also human beings trying to live with the weight of such metaphors, accidental rebels who are also accidental collaborators. "2015" is the funniest of the stories, perhaps at times too caught up in its own cleverness, but in all a charming dose of darkness. I prefer "The Golden Age," however, for its weird nostalgia, its sad recognition of the way the absurd logic of the reeducation camps and the casual rebellion of a pair of lovers actually create each other, feed off of and reinforce one another in such a way that love, if there is such a thing, is contingent upon the very opposition it tries to escape. And what are we when the coercion by our resistence to which we have have become ourselves collapses?
July 11, 2016
How do you art in the totalitarian state?
How do you sex in the totalitarian state?
How do you love in the totalitarian state?
Xiaobo explores these questions through three novellas of men painting, lusting and tentatively loving in Communist China. Often--no, always, creating art, sex and love chaotically overlapped and antagonized the totalitarian state, plunging Xiaobo's protagonists into an absurd hole I couldn't always follow down into, but it was interesting to pace the periphery and look in.
How do you sex in the totalitarian state?
How do you love in the totalitarian state?
Xiaobo explores these questions through three novellas of men painting, lusting and tentatively loving in Communist China. Often--no, always, creating art, sex and love chaotically overlapped and antagonized the totalitarian state, plunging Xiaobo's protagonists into an absurd hole I couldn't always follow down into, but it was interesting to pace the periphery and look in.
April 2, 2016
I am technically still reading this book but want to note here that if you're going to China this is a good book to read before you go. I am reading it having just returned. Wang Xiaobo is funny & sharp. Hard to know how much we miss in the translation. The language is low key. The man who recommended this writer to me described rhymes in his work that aren't in these novellas (so far anyway). Perhaps this features in another of his works.
October 9, 2015
Wang is a childish philosopher. His words is beautiful. But i think the most romantic thing is his love story with yinhe li. He said in one of his love letters to yin that" i got the writing paper by accident which is just like the unexpected mention between you and i. So i hope our story can be an endless song..."
August 19, 2015
The book starts a little slow and strange towards the end it's weird and cute .... exposes a very different lifestyle and culture... interesting and sad makes you wanna just ask the author if he really refers to his manhood as the "Little Buddha ??"
October 2, 2015
An incredibly rewarding, challenging read about the challenges of living within Communist China. A lot of sex, but also one of the most thought provoking looks at love that I've read in a long time.
January 26, 2014
No comments, he is just my favorite writer.
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews