Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress: Part II

I've recently finished reading this novel, by Dai Sijie, translated by Rilke, and can recommend it enthusiastically. The story has something for everyone: history, humor, adventure, suspense; heroes, villains, a beautiful girl; warmth, despair, anger. On top of that, it's short, which makes it accessible to young adults, busy grown-ups, and the literature-wary. And thankfully, it's well-written and beautifully translated.

Since my last post, I've blazed through my favorite scene in the novel: Luo and the protagonist working together with a needle, a sewing machine, and some tin to drill and fill the rotten tooth of the village's Communist-party leader. The protagonist finds he enjoys inflicting a bit of physical pain on this man, who serves as a symbol of the political ideology that's forced the protagonist and his friend away from their families and into the countryside in the first place.

Now that I've finished the novel, I can say with full confidence that the sex scenes in this story are mild, innocent, and lovely, and so I'm further baffled by the mother-and-son team in Tacoma, Washington that first recommended their school district ban the book. (Sadly, incredibly, they prevailed. I imagine the English teachers in the district are disgusted with their superintendent's decision.) Furthermore, the irony of censoring a book about censorship is too much to bear. What message does that send the students? It's absurd.

Anyway, this novel is colorful, magical, and absorbing. The ending is a bit cryptic in a way that I appreciate. I don't like a tidy ending. I want to finish reading a story feeling a bit miffed, a bit unsure. Life is messy and complicated, and I like literature to reflect that.

I suppose if I were to offer one critique of Sijie's story, it would be that we don't see the boys suffer enough during their exile to the remote mountain village. We do get one potent peek at their having to haul human and animal feces in pails on their backs, but much of their experience comes across as almost---almost---idyllic. They are, of course, away from their homes and their families and art and culture, which is indeed punishment and abuse. But so much attention is placed on the boys' outings to Yong Jing to view movies and their visits to the little seamstress, we tend to feel a bit detached from the stark tragedy of the situation.

I feels a bit blasphemous, however, to offer such a criticism of a story that is so rich and moving. Besides, the author himself experienced re-education first hand. Who am I to judge his retelling of it?

Suffice it to say that one good thing came out of the Tacoma-censorship situation: I got curious, picked up the targeted novel, and enjoyed an exhilarating, satisfying read.