In his foreword, Xiao Mo describes what sort of book he's written:

This book follows my personal experiences, but it is not an autobiography, the evidence being that purely personal matters that did not involve society were generally not included. Neither is it a novel, because the framework of the major events is not fictional, and for the most part names are genuine and dates and places are real. At the same time, it is not "scar literature," because its emphasis is not on the baring of wounds but rather on a frank acknowledgement of the complexity of human nature and an unfolding of broader society.

It's a collection of individual pieces about various aspects of his time in the west. Upon graduation he was given the choice of five far-flung locations and chose the farthest -- Xinjiang (one interesting tidbit is how he changed his name to Xiao Mo due to the ethnic insensitivity of his birth name, Xiao Gonghan 功汉 "service to the Han"), and then was transferred to Dunhuang. The chapters hang together loosely: he's got a discursive writing style filled with digressions and asides.

The foreword also mentions his motivation for writing:

It is after all an era that must not be forgotten. The line "Forgetting the past implies a betrayal" is completely appropriate here. Yet I personally feel that if one does not go beyond airing grievances, or the need to assign individual responsibility to important or petty individuals, then it is not true introspection.

A short afterword (which I translated here) makes this point in a different way: Xiao explains that he omitted a glossary of unfamiliar CR-era terms because the period really ought to be openly taught in schools.

Xiao is not the first to write about Dunhuang during the Cultural Revolution: about one third of Gao Er Tai's In Search of My Homeland (寻找家园) concerns that subject, and an entire chapter of Xiao's book is devoted to Gao. The two men did not end up on good terms. Xiao finds Gao a little self-serving and does not think his book is entirely accurate as a record of the period.

jdmartinsen, August 27, 2010, 6:27a.m.

Xiao Mo made a blog post yesterday explaining that his publisher has told him that they have not in fact received any order banning the book. (title is 萧默主动删除“笑谈《一叶一菩提》被禁”》三文的声明 — you’ll have to search for his Tianya blog because the link seems to be tripping the spam filters here).

Xiao writes that he had initially sought out New Star Press in early 2009 to publish his book, but they declined. He found an agent, which ended up placing the book with New Star anyway. The agency was the one who informed him of the supposed ban; the actual publisher only cleared things up later on. Perhaps it was a ploy by the agent for more press coverage?

Regardless, it’s an interesting book that’s well worth reading, even if it isn’t Banned in China.

(x-posted to Bruce Humes's blog)

jdmartinsen, September 9, 2010, 2:04a.m.

In my opinion, “Banned in China” doesn’t necessarily mean that an official document has been issued by anyone; it means that when one goes to a bookstore in China, the book isn’t there and cannot be ordered. Or, when you go to read the book online, or to read comments about it — like the author’s blog — you can’t access the web site.

I caution against an overly legalistic approach to defining just what has or has not been "banned." The Chinese authorities are perfectly aware that documents can be photocopied, scanned and put up on the Internet. And they know that openly banning a book can make even a mediocre one highly popular, and subject the authorities to a lot of criticism.

So, why issue a document. . .when a phone call or two will do the job?

That said, claiming one's book has been banned can indeed be an effective marketing tool. Who knows, maybe the author and his publisher are using this tool to gain notoriety for the book, as Joel implies?

Let's keep an eye out for the book in China's bookstores and see if it does, after all, surface...

Bruce Humes
Chinese Books, English Reviews

Bruce , September 9, 2010, 4:18p.m.