In recent years some overseas-based Chinese writers have drawn attention in the world by writing in languages other than their mother tongue.
Qiu Xiaolong took that a step further by tackling a genre that has never been the forte of Chinese writers and demonstrating his mastery of it.
Qiu's English language detective novel Death of a Red Heroine was nominated for an Edgar award and won the Anthony award for Best First Novel in 2001 in the United States. The book's Chinese translation by Yu Lei was published by Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House in September this year.
Some US critics hailed the novel as ground-breaking, being the "first English-language police procedural set in contemporary China that is written by a Chinese author." Most previous mysteries and thrillers set in China have been by Western authors.
On December 27, Qiu, who is on a short visit to China, hosted an autograph session at Shanghai Book Town, one of the city's major book markets.
Qiu's easy command of mystery writing has surprised the middle-aged group in China's foreign literature study circle. As the last graduate student of prestigious poet and scholar Bian Zhilin, Qiu was a promising colleague before he went to the United States for further scholarly study in 1988.
Fans of 1980s Chinese poetry are also familiar with Qiu's name. A writer with a poetical temperament and possessing a profound understanding of both Chinese and English, Qiu has made many beautiful translations of the works of Western modernist poets, especially those of William Butler Yeats, T. S. Eliot and the American Imagists.
Of comfort to his older fans is the fact Qiu has never wavered in his devotion to poetry. "I have never stopped writing and translating poems all these years," said the 50-year-old Qiu, who now teaches Chinese literature at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri.
Since moving to the US, Qiu mostly uses English to write poems, and instead of translating English verse into Chinese, he now translates classical Chinese poems into English.
A collection of his translations of some of his favorite classical Chinese verse, "Treasury of Chinese Love Poems: In Chinese and English," was published in both America and China recently. And his poetry collection, Lines around China, will soon be released.
Qiu is also working on a novel of story sequence, which he started before he began writing Death of a Red Heroine. The project consists of over 20 independent yet interrelated stories, each for a particular year set in Shanghai. Another novel of the series, A Loyal Character Dancer, has already been completed.
Qiu is wise enough to enhance his detective stories with his knowledge and aptitude in poetry. The hero of his detective series, Chen Cao, is a chief inspector of police office in Shanghai, who has a taste for poetry. His passion for reading and composing poetry often provides inspiration for his job, but also reminds him of his singularity in a society that still cherishes the virtue of being "normal."
The stories are written in lyrical and quiet prose, highlighted by many classical verses in pertinent places.
Qiu does an excellent job of making his stories suggestive of rich meaning. From one angle it is individuals' inner struggle to reconcile their social images and secret selves. The stories are set in early 1990s Shanghai, a time when the sense of individual was awaked.
The protagonists in his novels are often people suffering from the conflict of contrasting instincts. As the investigation in Death of a Red Heroine proceeds and Chen learns more and more about the double life led by murder victim Guan Hongying (meaning "red heroine"), he is increasingly disturbed by the similarities he finds between her masked life and his own.
On the surface Guan was the praiseworthy worker at a big department store, but beneath she was a passionate woman who cherished a romantic sexual relationship with a young man.
"I did not want to make my novel a mere detective story in the first place," Qiu admitted. "What I had in mind was to write something about Chinese society in transition. A detective novel has its convenience in depicting life in any society because the investigation touches the lives of all involved."
The book also provides a fascinating snapshot of Shanghai local life 10 years ago. Most memorable are the cramped housing conditions, the continued reverence for elders, and the many mouthwatering descriptions of food, delivered in graphic and idiomatic English.
The moments when Qiu concentrates on invoking atmosphere are both illuminating and rewarding.
Detective Yu's wife's pride and pleasure in having brought home a dozen crabs at "State price" are moving and well crafted, all the more so because Qiu seems almost unaware of what he is doing. Rather than lecturing on the economic dilemmas of the modern worker, he lets her simple happiness speak for itself.
Also appreciated by readers are the verbal gems that Qiu flashes throughout the book -- "A room is like a woman. It also possesses you. Besides, you have to spend a fortune to make it love you."
However, the work is not without its flaws. The moving couplets Chen favours are potentially fascinating insights into the interaction between ancient and modern China, but instead of provoking the reader into reflection, Qiu offers reductive explanations of each and every poem.
In the last quarter of the book, Qiu seems to find his stride, though his writing style remains undeniably awkward. Here Chen expands and relaxes -- as does the novel.
Qiu's debut, though anything but polished, holds the promise of better things to come.
Qiu says there is no such genre as crime fiction in the Chinese literary tradition. The novels involving criminal investigation mostly have the focus on the upright and incorruptible official.
"For me, the influence came from the translation of the Western tradition, like Sherlock Holmes. I began to read those translations in my middle school years, when those books were still forbidden, and I have since been a passionate reader of the genre," said Qiu.
(China Daily December 31, 2003)
