Perry Link’s latest collection of essays, The Anaconda in the Chandelier, provides a meaningful introduction to the writings of one of America’s most prominent scholars of Chinese literature and politics. The book is not only highly readable but also succinctly expresses numerous insights into Chinese culture and politics most other writers could only convey in far more words. This series spans decades, allowing the book to capture shifts and changes in China’s political milieu, including the brief period of relative political openness in the late 1990s before returning to Maoist-like political control under Xi Jinping, who assumed power in 2013. For readers unfamiliar with China, the book offers a helpful introduction to Chinese culture, domestic politics, social dynamics, and literature. Meanwhile, for China scholars, the book, titled after one of Link’s most popular essays, provides a useful collection of Link’s work.
The book’s essays range from playful pieces such as “The Joys of Beginning Chinese,” which details his enjoyment of teaching Chinese 101, to more somber pieces, such as “What the Tiananmen Mothers Offer China,” which remind the reader of the sacrifices at the 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre. Link appropriately injects some humor while doing justice to the draconian political control under which political dissidents have suffered for their commitment to democratic ideals. Link admirably focuses on Chinese writers, intellectuals, and artists, including tributes to Fang Lizhi and Liu Xiaobo, two key political dissidents, as well as other political reformers, who “put their own safety and comfort on the line.” He reminds us that after coauthoring Charter 08, a blueprint for a democratic Chinese society, Liu Xiaobo “was taken from his home by police and never returned.” His essays cumulatively paint a picture of what life is like in China for those committed to the ideals of human rights and democracy.
For some readers who are sensitive to language, off-color humor or sexual innuendo, and short descriptions of torture, there may be brief sections that should be skimmed or skipped over. For example, in “Capitulate or Things Will Get Worse,” he describes some forms of torture used by the Chinese police. Some of his essays on Chinese literature reference genitalia and swear words. But these are brief and are used to serve a purpose, either in conveying the colorful use of language in Chinese literature or the kind of political repression and persecution utilized by the Chinese regime.
And yet, even as Link excels at moving depictions of the suffering endured by Chinese dissidents, The Anaconda in the Chandelier’s greatest lacuna is its failure to do justice to Link’s own contribution and sacrifice to the cause of human rights in China. Link’s commitment to academic candor and his principled stance in championing human rights and political freedom led the People’s Republic of China to barred him from traveling to China beginning in 1996. In his essay “Life on a Blacklist,” Link describes some of the potential reasons he has been denied entry into China, including his scholarship, his friendship with and support for dissidents, and his activism. Regardless of the exact reasons why the Chinese Communist Party chose to crack down on him, Link’s willingness to support political reformers demonstrated undeniable courage. In James Mann’s 1998 book About Face, Mann describes Link’s efforts to escort Chinese dissident Fang Lizhi and his wife to a banquet hosted by President Bush during his 1989 trip to Beijing, including trying to evade the Chinese police who continually tried to restrict the group’s movements.
Being blacklisted by the Chinese government came at a significant professional cost for Link; as other peers continued to be able to travel to China, engage with Chinese writers, and produce scholarship informed by such travels and interactions, Link could only do so at a distance. As a scholar, Link is well-regarded for his perceptive analyses of Chinese politics and society. But besides his work as a sinologist, he is even more admirable is his love for the Chinese people, demonstrated through his commitment to democratic reforms in China when others chose to stay silent makes him not just a academic but a moral witness.
The book also does not do justice to Link’s record of cultivating and mentoring younger China hands. Years ago, when I was endeavoring to publish my first book, I reached out to Professor Link for advice. Although I had not been a student of his, he graciously offered me counsel and encouragement. Other scholars and China-watchers similarly report his eager willingness to mentor, advise, and counsel.
Whether readers are experienced China-watchers or are looking for an introduction to China that captures the many complexities, both humorous and bleak, of life under the CCP, The Anaconda in the Chandelier deserves a place on the bookshelf.