Simon Winchester's The River at the Center of the World, recently re-released in paperback, has a premise both simple and audacious: Winchester travels the length of the Yangtze river-the third longest river in the world-from Shanghai, where it meets the sea, up to its source in Tibet. As he traces the river back to its source, he also travels backwards in time; at least, this is the conceit that Mr. Winchester uses to tie the tale together.
It is also the weakest element of this enjoyable book, which is slight in the way that the best travel writing so often is. Winchester certainly makes the case that the Yangtze is at the center of the Chinese self-image, just as the river runs through the center of the country. In doing so, he imparts to the reader his personal sense of the countryside, its history, and its people. Downriver, at Shanghai, Winchester looks forward to the future of China. As the adventurers approach the headwaters, the conditions become inarguably more primitive. In contrast to the conceit, though in keeping with its the book focuses less on the distant past than on the present difficulties of this perilous and exciting journey.
It is also the weakest element of this enjoyable book, which is slight in the way that the best travel writing so often is. Winchester certainly makes the case that the Yangtze is at the center of the Chinese self-image, just as the river runs through the center of the country. In doing so, he imparts to the reader his personal sense of the countryside, its history, and its people. Downriver, at Shanghai, Winchester looks forward to the future of China. As the adventurers approach the headwaters, the conditions become inarguably more primitive. In contrast to the conceit, though in keeping with its the book focuses less on the distant past than on the present difficulties of this perilous and exciting journey.
In Shanghai, Winchester focuses on the new Oriental Pearl Tower, a monstrously tall and ugly skyscraper, of which the citizens are quite proud: even as they admit that it is unattractive, it represents the future of a China led by Chinese rather than subject to European domination. Upriver in Nanjing, he discusses the long history of atrocities committed against the residents of that city, and China's seemingly-universal sympathy for that city's long-suffering citizens. In Tibet, near the river's source, Winchester's language conveys with great immediacy and aplomb the myriad troubles presented by foreign travelers in China, particularly in more remote regions: government officials concerned about trouble in Tibet, or merely looking to line their pockets; difficult roads; aged and poorly made equipment.
The tone of the book is mournful, often elegiac, even when discussing Shanghai, "The City Without a Past," as Winchester styles it-for the city does have a history, if only a brief one. Discussing the early decades of last century, he writes:
The tone of the book is mournful, often elegiac, even when discussing Shanghai, "The City Without a Past," as Winchester styles it-for the city does have a history, if only a brief one. Discussing the early decades of last century, he writes:
"Shanghai was, if you believed its reputation, a dreadful place. Yes, most people-or at least the foreigners, and the rich Chinese who had evolved from the class of men called compradors, the business-men's go-betweens-enjoyed themselves, or believed they did. This was a city where one could dance all night, go riding (on especially small Mongolian ponies, which raced vigorously at the track) at dawn, work all day and begin a new round of parties that evening without ever feeling weary." (p. 70)
Winchester manages to be nostalgic for the decadent and cruel expatriates-or at least for the shabby glamour of their situation-while simultaneously condemning them; a neat trick, and one that conveys much of the narrative's flavor. It also captures the haphazard and idiosyncratic way in which he presents history: the compradors are never mentioned again, to my recollection, nor is the term listed in the book's index. But the river keeps moving, and the narration keeps moving against it.
Winchester manages to be nostalgic for the decadent and cruel expatriates-or at least for the shabby glamour of their situation-while simultaneously condemning them; a neat trick, and one that conveys much of the narrative's flavor. It also captures the haphazard and idiosyncratic way in which he presents history: the compradors are never mentioned again, to my recollection, nor is the term listed in the book's index. But the river keeps moving, and the narration keeps moving against it.
In other places, the book's tone is muffled: Winchester often seems caught in the middle, between telling the story and putting the people he met at risk; between observing a situation as an outsider and condemning it. He discusses at length the problems with the Three Gorges Dam (in the early stages of construction at the time of his writing) but does so gingerly. Few readers will doubt where he stands in the matter, but Winchester never comes out and states his position. This seems both regrettable and inevitable.
This is a travel book, and an enjoyable one; readers looking for a broad or complete understanding of Chinese history and character should look elsewhere: most of the history presented is twentieth-century. The "warring states" period is never mentioned by name; Buddhism is not discussed, except in its Tibetan variant; Taoism and Confucianism are mentioned only in passing. This is a pity, as Winchester's discussion of Chinese history is captivating, and his understanding clearly runs deeper than this book allows him to demonstrate. Readers looking for history will be disappointed, but readers who treat The River at the Center of the World as an exciting travelogue will find much to enjoy.
This is a travel book, and an enjoyable one; readers looking for a broad or complete understanding of Chinese history and character should look elsewhere: most of the history presented is twentieth-century. The "warring states" period is never mentioned by name; Buddhism is not discussed, except in its Tibetan variant; Taoism and Confucianism are mentioned only in passing. This is a pity, as Winchester's discussion of Chinese history is captivating, and his understanding clearly runs deeper than this book allows him to demonstrate. Readers looking for history will be disappointed, but readers who treat The River at the Center of the World as an exciting travelogue will find much to enjoy.
