polymorphism

“Beijing Memories” is a documentary series produced by BTV, the city’s local station. It tells a lot of tales of the ‘80s, the dawn of economic reform. It celebrates the country’s achievement in the past three decades with pride, joy and nostalgia.

I’m mainly attracted to the retrospective elements of the documentary. It brings back many warm and sweet memories when life was simple and poor. I lived in Beijing for 20 years. I love the city and its people.

The series has 15 episodes and covers many aspects of urban life, including food, commerce, art, private and public transportation, road construction, telecom, new immigrants, housing and architecture, etc. In the ‘80s, many families lived in dormitory-like apartments, with shared kitchens and restrooms. Several buildings shared one telephone. Beijingers didn’t have many vegetables to eat in winters other than cabbage. There were not many restaurants and taxis. But today, people around the world go to China to see the future. It’s not only amazing but utterly shocking to see how much people can accomplish in a few decades.

It was sweet to see Zhongguancun in its early stage again in one of the episodes. I was very familiar with the area, but eventually a district of 127 acres was completely wiped out and then rebuilt, leaving few places recognizable to me. The episode makes an interesting comparison between the city’s east side and west side. The east side is purely business and is much internationalized. The west side is more about culture, art, technology and intellect, because it has the country’s best universities, institutes and think tanks, including Tsinghua University, Peking University, Chinese Academy of Sciences, National Library of China, Beijing Film Academy, Central Academy of Fine Art, Central Academy of Drama, and on and on.

I consider the program the best documentary series of the year. Of course, that’s totally personal. I’d like to quote a British shop owner who has lived in Beijing for 15 years. His shop has a lot of old everyday items. He said in the program in Mandarin, “…Things like a washbasin, or a subway ticket — others may not care — but in my eyes, they’re as important (as) the Temple of Heaven. So I print them on T-shirts, as a celebration, because I love Beijing. I want to show people my Beijing, the Beijing in my eyes, the Beijing in this laowai (a slang for foreigners)’s eyes.”

He said it very well. This is all about MY town, my life, and my story. The stories of the interviewees are collective memories, but are also very personal.

However, I must say, not everything is becoming better. The first thing that comes to mind is pollution. The last time  I landed in Beijing and walked out of the plane, I saw air. It was not fog but just highly polluted air that I could literally see. The gigantic new airport terminal that was under construction not far away was looming in the thick air.

Then one day, I was sitting in a cab on my way to a newly developed suburban neighborhood. I recalled that when I was in school, our transportation was bikes. We biked to places like the Summer Palace during holidays and summer breaks. Those places sounded so far away. It took a long time to get there. But we were happy, biking and chatting with friends. At that time, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. Now many places that were not within the city range are connected by highways. I was amazed by the convenience of the modern invention. Then, I saw a familiar building profile a few miles away, enshrouded in traffic haze. In a few seconds, it disappeared behind nearby buildings. It took me a while to realize that the building was Fo Xiang Ge, the Pavilion of the Fragrance of Buddha. It was a bit hard for me to realize it, because I didn’t expect to see the pavilion at all, in a cab, on a city highway. That pavilion was among my memories of summer days, when I was young and innocent. It was so elegant, so beautiful, and so heavenly. Now it is dirty, obscure, and encroached by ever expanding pollution.

What have we done?

And now, children no longer play. They have more toys but less time to play. They’re busier than their parents. Years ago, when the average salary was less than US$100 per month, the Chinese bought pianos and let their children learn and practice in their small apartments. That was a social phenomenon called “Piano Fever.” At that time, I thought that was normal and was just what people do. Now I think of it in
retrospect and compare it with other countries, the investment and value stressing on education in Asia seems incredible. To some extent, it’s fearsome.

I’m not against progress. But I see costs as well. Now that I live in the U.S., I’m not sure if we have the right to demand people in China to do things better and fix all problems. It was, however, a heart breaking moment to see how Fo Xiang Ge revealed itself in front of me.

Xidan Book Building, one of the largest bookstores of Beijing, is quite a sight. The four-floor building has endless shelves and aisles packed with books and readers. It can easily keep one awestruck. Just imagine the work behind every book. Every book takes its author several years to finish and then takes editors several months, if not years, to edit and publish. This book superstore displays hundreds of thousands of books, which is only a small fraction of new books published every year in this country. I feel humbled and awed every time I walked into the vast space of this bookstore.

But, for book lovers, there are many different choices beside superstores. Large bookstores are located in commercial districts. They are often too crowded, and despite their huge collections of popular books, they cannot meet everyone’s needs.

On the northwest side of Beijing reside the best colleges and universities of China. There are some distinguished bookstores near the campuses. Two of my favorites are Fengrusong and Wansheng (or All Sages).

They don’t seem distinguished from the outside at all. Fengrusong is located on the underground level of an office building outside of Peking University. Conversely, to enter All Sages, customers have to climb up narrow and steep stairs. It’s the books that make the stores different. Like I said, an average book, perhaps, takes its author several years to complete. But here, many books took a scholar’s lifetime to accomplish. These bookstores are quiet. Their visitors are students and scholars. I once saw a student who was the most shortsighted person I have ever seen in my life. He literally put the book on his nose to read the page, like smelling it. The gesture was imprinted in my memory.

The bonds between the bookstores and their customers are uncommonly strong, which can be reflected in an interesting story I overheard in the dialogue between Liu Suli, the owner of All Sages, and a Japanese publisher,  Kato Keiji.  There was a rumor going around that Mr. Liu was about to close down All Sages and move to the United States. A great uproar ensued. Customers angrily accosted him. “You think,” exclaimed one, “that you can open this store, then close it down whenever you feel like it?” It is exactly that deep connection that encourages Liu. He said, “Clearly, All Sages has become something much bigger than the enterprise of just one individual.”

Fengrusong and All Sages are specialized in certain fields. For those who are not serious readers, there are small bookstores and stands for casual reading. When I was in middle school, the city’s streets had a lot of stalls selling clothes, small electronics, and foods. Book stalls were plenty too. I supposed the owners were not highly educated people, but their collections were decent, from comic books and wuxia novels (a type of fantasy fiction about kung fu society) to poems and economics and stock market analysis. About  10 years ago, those stalls were eliminated from the streets, giving space to sidewalks and lawns. Markets were converted to shopping malls. I can’t say I miss those stalls, but I miss those old days very much. Toward the year’s end, I would go to those stalls with friends to select holiday cards for classmates, in the cold winter winds of Beijing, with a baked sweet potato in my hand.

My nostalgia aside, no one really wants to read books outside in wintertime with numb fingers. However, there are exceptions. Book markets are a good place to get discounted books! Parks have regular book markets for readers. They often happen once a season, and last for one or two weeks. They are not arranged by bookstores, but by publishers, which is one of the reasons for lower prices. On weekends, these markets can be a festival to book lovers. Shopping for books in parks is no doubt a pleasant experience.

There are also some bars called “book bars” that have opened in recent years, which I haven’t visited yet.

I don’t know what will happen to all these places when Internet book sellers arise to dominance. I hope they won’t disappear. I believe readers need bookstores.

May 12, 2008, Sichuan. It was a common Monday just like any other day. In an elementary school, teacher Wu was conducting a class. In a resident apartment, Mr. Wang and his wife were watching a DVD. He just returned from work in another province. The couple were enjoying the precious moment of being together. In streets, cab drivers were complaining about the traffic. Somewhere in the city, a young mom was looking at her newborn baby. The baby was only 4 months old, as tender as dew in the morning.

They didn’t know their lives would be forever changed, and that many of them would never see the blue sky again.

At 2:28 p.m., a magnitude 8 earthquake struck Wenchuan county of Sichuan …

Tens of thousands perished in the catastrophe. I have seen heart-wrenching pictures from Sichuan. I saw so many that I decided I could not see any more. The sorrow had somehow sunk in, and has become not only a part of my news reading, but a part of my life. Every day I woke up, I would feel that day as different from yesterday. And there are some other pictures haunting my mind, the pictures of the moment before the earthquake, of the ordinary folks we see every day. The disaster changed their lives, and it changed me too. It made me believe in people. I didn’t know these people were heroes inside. They are the people I can count on, they will come to save me when I am in danger, even at the risk of their own lives, and I would do the same for them.

When the earthquake struck, teacher Wu carried his students from the classroom to the ground. But when he realized that a few students had been left behind, he rushed back without hesitation. He sacrificed his life to save his students. Many teachers made the same choice. Rescuers found students under the protection of their teacher’s body. The teachers were Tan Qianqiu, Zhang Miya, Yuan Wenting …

Mr. and Ms. Wang were buried under rubble. In tremendous pain and desperation, the couple supported each other. They whispered about their life and their daughter, about the moment when they first met, and what they would do when they got out alive. The only thing giving them hope to hang on in the endless darkness was love. They were rescued the next day.

The mom of the four-month old was buried with her baby. She shielded him with her own body. When they were discovered by rescuers, she had died while her baby survived. People found a message to the child in the mom’s cell phone. It read, “If you can survive, always remember that I love you.”

Her love, and the love of many who died or survived, will be remembered. On May 19, a week after the earthquake, the whole country of China held a moment of silence. Time seemed frozen. Cars came to a halt. A billion people stood silent for three minutes, while the only sound in the air was sirens. The citizens gathered in the square of Sichuan capital were holding hands. After the mourning, however, they rallied, “Be strong! Go, China, Go!” Witnessing the solidarity, unyielding spirit, and commonly seen altruism, a reporter wrote, “The earth broke open, but rifts between hearts are healed.”

Within two hours after the earthquake, Prime Minister Wen Jiabao had arrived in Chengdu from Beijing. During the days and nights of the crisis, he proved to be the best prime minister since Zhou Enlai. More than 100,000 soldiers were mobilized, including parachute troopers who entered the towns in mountain areas that were completely cut off from rescue due to landslides. At the end of a CNN interview with a village’s local authority, the reporter asked the official if his own family was okay. He shook his head, weeping, and then returned to his work. Many local firefighters, police, doctors and nurses who had lost their own family worked around the clock to help others. They didn’t have time to mourn, to rest, or even to think about what had happened. The only thing on their minds was to save lives and fulfill their duties.

Disaster relief is always a duty of the government and sometimes of the army too. But this time, the entire nation joined the effort. According to eyewitnesses, “Within hours, people rushed to rescue. Blood donation lines ran for a hundred yards, and people waited hours to donate blood. Within 24 hours, all major blood banks ran out of storage space. The highway to the earthquake-struck city of Dujiangyan was almost jammed one hour after the quake; not by people fleeing the aftershocks, but by volunteers, led by over a thousand taxi drivers, who came from Chengdu to rescue.” In an online discussion, when asked by anxious people whether they needed more hands, a volunteer actually politely refused, “We have enough people. Please do not come if you are not a trained rescuer, because volunteers, too, will consume water, which is in shortage now.”

China was not alone in the disaster relief efforts after the quake.The seismic waves was literally felt as far as Thailand and Russia. People across the globe provided great help to China, including monetary donation and other forms of aid. Taiwan, a longtime political rival of China, promised a heartwarmingly huge donation of $65,000,000. South Korea, Russia and other countries sent in rescue teams. Australia, Finland, India, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Norway, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and many other countries sent significant donations for disaster relief. Many of them are not rich countries, and many are far away from Asia, but they all extended helping hands. The U.S., too, offered a $500,000 donation.

The month was a very difficult and painful time for every Chinese. We saw flattened cities, ruined homes, heartbreaking sacrifices, and lost lives. The earthquake was a trauma for the nation. When Premier Wen visited surviving students, he wrote a Chinese classic teaching on the chalkboard, “Distress rejuvenates a nation.” That is the spirit needed to rebuild our homes.

About 30 years ago, finding a foreigner who spoke Chinese was akin to a miracle. Now, the number of foreigners speaking Chinese is growing, as many people venture to China for study, work, or travel. Nearly 50 million tourists visit China every year. More than 50,000 Koreans live Beijing. In a small commodity-wholesale city Yiwu, about 10 thousand foreigners are doing business. Half of them are from the Middle East. I am not sure of the exact number of foreigners living in China. However, from figures mentioned above, the total number is conceivably large.

These people come to China for various reasons and have been a positive and constructive part of the society. I always feel grateful for their contribution. They are curious about the country, its history, and its people. In like manner, the Chinese are curious about them, too.

I’ll talk about two such people. Coincidently, they are both Australians.

People call the two best cinematographers “Northern Gu and Southern Du”. Northern Gu is Gu Changwei, who lives in Beijing and is a long time partner of Zhang Yimou. Southern Du is Du Kefeng of Hong Kong, who has worked on a wide range of films and is most famous for his contribution to films directed by Wong Kar-wai, my most favorite Hong Kong director. Du Kefeng, which means “like the wind” (I wish I had a name like that), is the Chinese name of Christopher Doyle.

I have long known Du Kefeng because I often saw his name listed as a cinematographer in movies. But I didn’t know he is White until I saw “Comrades, Almost a Love Story”, a movie in which he played a small role as a drunken English teacher. When I saw him on the screen, I was totally confused. “So, Du Kefeng is not Chinese?” Maybe Doyle himself is puzzled by his identity too. He once joked about himself being “a Chinese with some skin disease” (referring to his white skin).

Doyle spent much of his youth travelling the world. He was a cowherd in Israel, a well-digger in Indian, a doctor of Chinese medicine in Thailand. He studied at the University of Hong Kong and then joined the art sphere. The shining list of directors he has worked with is enviable to any cinematographer: Edward Yang in Taiwan, Wong Kar-wai in Hong Kong, Zhang Yimou, Chen Kaige, and Zhang Yuan in Beijing. He partially defined, and is partially defined by, the films of Wong Kar-wai, which are distinguished for vanguard camera angles and movements, stylish colors, and manipulation of film speed . In Doyle’s camera, the city and people of Hong Kong, from the sixties to the nineties, are so charming and unforgettable.

Another Australian who speaks fluent Chinese and caught my interest recently is the Prime Minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd. An interesting exchange took place during the Boao Forum for Asia, a world leader and entrepreneur summit held annually in Boao. After the President of Kazakhstan gave a surprise speech in Chinese, the host of the meeting thanked him for the great speech. He then turned to Rudd, who had been an active and popular speaker because of his proficient Chinese. “Kevin, you’ve got a serious challenger this year,” The host warned.

Rudd majored in Chinese language and history. Using Chinese concepts and vocabulary makes his speeches more influential among a Chinese audience. In his speech to students at Beijing University in April, Rudd suggested building a relationship of “zheng-you” between Australia and China.  He said,
A true friend is one who can be a “zhengyou”, that is a partner who sees beyond immediate benefit to the broader and firm basis for continuing, profound and sincere friendship. In other words, a true friendship which “offers unflinching advice and counsels restraint” to engage in principled dialogue about matters of contention. It is the kind of friendship that I know is treasured in China’s political tradition. It is the kind of friendship that I also offer China today.

People often judge outsiders with the question “Are you with us or against us?” They are unlikely to compromise under realistic or perceived pressures and threats. A genuine behavior change can only be achieved through reason from within, rather than dictation from the outside. What Rudd meant was, “We’re with you in principle, but may disagree with you on many specific matters.” He appeared as a partner and a helper, not a lecturer. China needs help and has a lot to learn from other countries, especially developed countries. Rudd’s words, citing the tradition of zhengyou, are easier for his audience to understand, and help remove the doubts about the motives of criticisms from the West. Rudd’s effort to lay a foundation of mutual understanding and trust is a good step toward building a long-term, healthy relationship. The change may not be immediate. But his genuine tone of his speech will be remembered by officials and the public.

Prior to 2008, China had 10 national holidays, including one day for New Year, and three days each for Lunar New Year, Labor Day, and National Day. China has some peculiar arrangement of these holidays. Adjacent weekends are often changed to work days, so people can have a whole week of vacation. For example, if Oct. 1 is on Monday, people will work on Sept. 29 and 30, the weekend before National Day, and back to work on Oct. 8. This seven-day vacation is called “Golden Week.”

Golden Weeks were started in 1997, the year of the Asian Financial Crisis. During the crisis, the demand from the international market was dampened. The economy had to put more weight on domestic consumption. The idea behind Golden Weeks was to encourage people to travel, shop and spend. It has been successful. Even merchants in Southeast Asia and Europe, which are popular overseas travel destinations, know about Golden Weeks and have special programs for them. However, Golden Weeks may have been too successful. The most recent sent 90 million people out traveling. But people soon lost interest in traveling, because all the parks were crowded and no one could really enjoy. Businesses made good money but were stressed out.

This year, China will change the holiday schedule. The government reduced Labor Day to one-day holiday, but made three traditional holidays national holidays: Qing Ming, Duan Wu, and Mid-Autumn.

The Chinese calendar has 24 special days with Solar Terms. Qing Ming, which literally means “clear and bright,” is one of them. It’s the day to tend ancestral graves.

Mid-Autumn festival is on the second full moon of autumn. It’s the day to spend time with your family, enjoy moon cakes and the moonlight. Mid-Autumn is a very important day, a symbol of family values. Even before, many companies gave employees a half-day off work on this day.

The origin of Duan Wu is complex. It is a memorial to Qu Yuan (340-278 B.C.) who lived in the Kingdom of Chu. At that time, there were seven kingdoms in the known civilized world. Chu was one of them. It was the time of Warring States. These kingdoms often formed short-lived allies to fight against each other. The balance of power continuously shifted among them. A kingdom  became strong when an ambitious and wise king appeared, and often fell behind if its rulers became corrupt and resistant to change.

Qu Yuan was an aristocrat and close advisor of Chu King. During his time, the Kingdom of Qin had emerged as a super power. Many conflicts occurred between Qin and the other six kingdoms. Qu Yuan believed Chu should form an alliance with other kingdoms to defend itself. But Chu King was manipulated by Qin’s persuasive diplomats and short-sighted officials in his kingdom. Instead of adopting Qu Yuan’s advice, the king sent him into exile twice.

Qin’s scheme worked out smoothly. It conquered Chu. On the day Qu Yuan heard that the Chu Capital had fallen, he walked to the riverside. There, according to legend, he met a fisherman. The fisherman inquired why he was so sad. Qu Yuan responded, “In the drunken world I am the only one conscious, so that I’m anguished.” He drowned himself in the river. (*)

Qu Yuan’s story offers a moral lesson  in Chinese culture. He was a wise and noble man dedicated to his people and country. He was also a great poet, actually the first noted poet in Chinese history. Before him, poems were written by anonymous persons.

Other than the three holidays earlier mentioned, another important traditional holiday is Lantern Festival. It features lantern puzzles, and food called Yuan Xiao. It’s only 15 days following New Year; so that may be the reason it wasn’t made a national holiday.

The beginning of the year always features a lot of holidays. This year, the Chinese will have one less Golden Week but one more holiday in total. I wish everyone happy holidays!

* The history of Warring States is very intriguing. Many American audiences have watched the movie “Hero.” The movie tells the story of an attempted assassination of the King of Qin, which is based on a true event.

Qin seemed unstoppable. The Qin King unified the land and became the first Emperor. However, in the years of the Qin Dynasty, there was a saying, “Even if there were only three households left in Chu’s ruins, it must be a Chu who would annihilate Qin.” Later, it became a reality. So Qu Yuan’s people, after all, regained their spirit.

Traveling around the world is an enlightening experience. But travel itself can be uncomfortable at times. You live in a hotel; maybe you can’t speak the country’s language; and if you lose your luggage, that would be a miserable day indeed. I felt very lucky when I went back to my hometown, Beijing, this past September. My parents arranged everything for me. Going back to Beijing is like going home. Meanwhile, because the city is changing so fast, I felt like a tourist in a different culture. This was a very strange and exciting feeling.

Beijing has a very long history. Its many historical sites attracts tourists: the Forbidden City, the Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall, the Summer Palace, and the Temple Of Heaven. They are ancient wonders that represent the highest achievements of traditional architecture.  Nowadays, several new world-class buildings are under construction. The most famous ones are the National Grand Theatre, the Olympic Stadium, and CCTV towers.

All three buildings are massive structures, and, to my eyes, in odd shapes. The National Theatre looks like a gigantic egg or a UFO floating on a water surface. The Olympic Stadium’s nick name is the “Bird’s Nest”. It indeed look like a nest wrapped in wild steel. The CCTV Towers are two leaning towers connected high in the sky without any supporting structure. They’re not like anything I’ve ever seen.

Another interesting place I visited was 798 Art Zone. It used to be an outdated military factory whose code name was 798. But some artists started setting up their galleries here in recent years, probably due to its low rental cost and ample space. The artists brought modernity to the space while preserving the industrial feeling of the old factory. Old workshops are transformed into exhibition halls. But you can still see huge red slogans painted on the ceiling: Long Life Chairman Mao! Don’t be fooled by its appearance. The art factory has actually gained serious reputation and won official support. When I was there, Sino-Japan Culture Exchange Exhibition, a quite high level international program, was taking place.

Not only the cityscape has changed. The economy is upgrading. The speed of wealth accumulation is astonishing. But I was more pleased to see that some corporations and people have developed a sense of social responsibility. One of China’s prominent social issues is the huge gap between cities and countryside, and between coastal and inland provinces. In China, you can see the most beautiful urban skylines in the world, but on the other hand, you can easily find obvious poverty in many villages. I was glad to see some examples of how people are helping the rural poor.

The new middle class likes hiking to the countryside in their leisure time. A program called “Carry 1 more KG” is born. In addition to their travel equipment, the program’s participants carry one kilogram of books in their backpacks, give the books to schools on their way, and spend some time with country kids.

Another example of help is something I saw advertised on TV. Some remote counties that produce healthy fruits are looking for business partners to set up food processing plants to add more value to their agriculture products. But how come these counties can pay for the expensive airtime on TV? The cost is paid by Sinopec, a big oil company, as charity. Here I see the shrewdness of the company. First, setting up business to let villagers improve their lives by their own hands is definitely better in long term than donating money and clothes directly. Second, the company obviously gets more public attention and appreciation by these ads than writing a check that few people know about.

 The feeling of living in a constantly changing country is hard to explain. There was a movie called Sweetheart that best explains my reaction. In the movie’s beginning, a girl was standing in a gray city and was screaming. The camera started to swirl around her. Behind her, things started to evolve. Skyscrapers popped up from the ground. Highways extended to the horizon. Banks were dropped from the sky. The camera swirled faster and faster, and suddenly, it stopped. The girl stopped screaming too. She had become a beautiful young woman, standing in the middle of a prosperous metropolis, feeling totally lost. Then, her story began.

The scene from the movie explains my feeling precisely. I often feel lost and confused. Nevertheless, I believe this is a happy story.

It all started by a casual click on the Net a few years ago. A hyperlink brought me to a blog owned by a Chinese living in Paris. From the blog, I randomly picked up one of her linked blogs, and then from there I jumped to even more sites. The world of Chinese bloggers revealed itself in front of me.

Now reading blogs is a part of my daily life. I’m always amazed by the variety of people’s lives and perspectives. A former Microsoft employee sharing his thoughts about the new trends of the internet industry, a British living in Beijing taking photos of every restaurant he goes, and an artist drawing pictures to tell the traditions of his beloved hometown Chendu, they are all members of the blogger community.

Different forms of online diary could be tracked back to the early age of internet, though it’s until 1997 when the blog we see today came into shape. The early adopters in China were IT professionals. And then journalists joined the army. The blogging service is so easy to use that everyone starts to write their random thoughts or share photos with friends online. Some may loss their interests in a few months and stop updating their blogs, but more will join in. According to Baidu, the most popular search engine in China, the number of Chinese bloggers has reached to over 16 millions, and the number of blogs is about 37 millions. In June, Technorati indicated the number one blog on the planet in term of site traffic belonged to Xu Jinglei. Surprised? You should not.

As a nice young lady with angle’s face, Xu Jinglei has millions of fans, though she wants to be more recognized as a director than an actress. She’s particularly good at calligraphy, which was taught by her strict father during her childhood. This is a rare achievement among young women. Far from being a master, her calligraphy is fine enough to easily win admiration from audiences. As a blogger, Xu is surprisingly diligent. She updates her blog every day. No wonder the blog drew 10 millions visitors in over 100 days.

Celebrity blogs? Yes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Bill Gates and Steven Spielberg write about their next project and their daily lives? Celebrity blogs is quite a phenomenon in China, thanks to the efforts of Sina, a leading web company in China. Since Sina launched their blogging service, they have been inviting public figures to blog on their site, which is arguably a very successful advertising strategy. The invited people include rock stars, entrepreneurs, intellectuals, writers and many with different backgrounds.

A world like this is never short of passions. The hottest flame was between a writer and a critic. Han Han published his first book when he was 17. When he read an article written by Ye Bai criticizing young writers like him knew little about literature, he felt insulted and amused. He responded with a post on his blog titled “Literature Is Nothing” in a sarcastic tone. After several rounds of debate between Han and Bai, the critic found him in no position winning the debate, because his blog was flooded by provocative comments posted by the writer’s fans. Mr. Bai thus closed his blog.

The incident well illustrated some natures of young Chinese netizens: emotional, relentless, never hesitate to express their own opinions.

However, it’s absolutely wrong to conclude Chinese blogs are dominated by simple minds. People talk business and even affect national policies. Xiang Wenbo, the president of a manufacturer of construction equipment, was angry about the proposed deal to sell Xugong, China’s largest crane maker, to a foreign company. He accused that the company was being sold by an unreasonable low price. Even though Xiang’s article was probably the most influential voice regarding the Xugong deal, it was only a tip of a broader concern among the public. Chinese government has recently announced to set up a commission and consider limiting foreign participation in several industrial sectors.

Public attention is always attracted by the news makers, but Chinese blog community is just as grass-root as anywhere else. And that’s exactly where the future lies on. With all the virtues and vileness, blogs are the true face of the real world. In this respect, we can say the world is accurately blogged.