K: The Art of Love

K is the story of a strange encounter between two cultures. At the surface, it's about Chinese and English culture, and also about the very Martian culture of a man and the Venusian one of a woman. But it soon becomes clear that the protagonists aren't representing these cultures. If anything, they struggle to define an identity within small subcultures at the margins of their respective societies. The Englishman, Julian Bell, is like his eponymous real-life model a product of the Bloomsbury Group which had a set of values quite radically different from what was considered normal at the time. Son of the painter Vanessa Bell (who had an open marriage with a bisexual man) and nephew of Virginia Woolf, he tends to judge everything with the measure of the intellectual cult he grew up in, and initially sneers at the idea that Chinese poets may be producing anything comparable. The Chinese woman, called Lin Cheng in the novel, but based on the biography of the poet and writer Ling Shuhua, is also associated with an intellectual circle, the New Moon Society. Her contradiction is that she believes in the Daoist "Art of Love", which to her intellectual peers is just a feudal old nonsense. The arrival of the Englishman gives her the opportunity to put this theory into practice. And practice they do, quite a bit, and it's sensitively and sensuously described in the novel, even in the English translation I read, which is by Nicky Harman and the author's husband Henry Zhao. The eroticism is, of course, a problem for some people in China and in the UK, and so it came to pass that Ling Shuhua's daughter sued the author for libel in Chinese courts for defamation of the dead, and eventually succeeded in having the book banned in mainland China. It hasn't quite been banned in the UK, but I'm getting the impression that it has been ignored on purpose. I find it quite shocking that I couldn't find a single review of the book. The English edition was published in 2002, so if it has been reviewed, the reviews should be on the web. Probably people perceived it like the subject's nephew, whose name is also Julian Bell, who didn't object to its publication but compared it to "black lace" type genre fiction. Maybe it takes readers with intercultural sensitivity to appreciate this, but this is definitely not black lace material (and unlike Julian Bell, I have read black lace novels, I even know somebody who writes them). K really has something to tell us about what happens when cultures collide. The culture clash proves a bit too much for the English protagonist, who concludes towards the end of the book: "The fanatical love of this Chinese woman, like the violence of the Revolution, and everything else Chinese, was simply too alien for him to comprehend or accept." A version of this review is also included in my recent book: The noughties brought to book.

I am regretful this novel is banned in China. However, when that happens, it makes curiousity an intense ache. Hong Ying has done an excellent job in portraying Julian Bell (nephew of Virginia Woolf) and his Chinese mistress, Lin. The affair starts almost instanteously with a little talk, a look, then moves into a constant taunt of lovemaking and from that point into a love that will not cease. It is difficult not to fall in love with Lin and Julian, their affair. The novel has a way of making the reader forget that they are indeed characters based on real individuals. There are many "peaks" in the novel--one beautifully written scene in an opium den where the lovers show off their passion, their affection, their lust--their intertwined spirits. Ying also includes the most crisp details of Lin's apparel and various cloths, even these common items are sexually charged by the characters' exuberant behavior. Backdrops that work against the lovers include war, the free-style relationship Julian has with his own mother (a little on the oedipal side), pestering servants, an American female, a foul, ill-dressed European female, and Lin's husband Cheng (who does not make it difficult for Lin to have an affair). But I must state that it is love itself that serves as the most prominent antagonist for the two.Lin teaches Julian Daoist theories to lovemaking. Julian teaches Lin . . . well maybe another reader can help me see exactly what he teaches her. What is clear, however, is that Julian and Lin bend posture in each other. They release pinned-up fever only to realize that lust and clandestine tapping can actually turn into serious affection. Yes, one can fall in love after lust has had its say. Initially, one might believe that Lin is merely a bored wife who is also a successful writer. But, the novel shows readers that Lin is a woman in need of something more than success and marital status. More importantly, she is in need of giving love. It is she who comes to Julian over and again. It is Julian who lays and waits in great fervor for the sound of her footsteps "those light steps struck his ears sweeter than birdsong"; he waits for her presence, for the sex and for all of herself she constantly delivers. The novel's language moves with effervescence and will keep the reader deeply involved and very interested in what happens. As far as flaws in the book, one may only wonder what the relationship between Cheng and Lin [was] really like, but then again the novel leaves us to our own accord. Ying has written a beautiful, fine piece of work and deserves all the respect good writing warrants. Cheers!

I am regretful this novel is banned in China. However, when that happens, it makes curiousity an intense ache. Hong Ying has done an excellent job in portraying Julian Bell (nephew of Virginia Woolf) and his Chinese mistress, Lin. The affair starts almost instanteously with a little talk, a look, then moves into a constant taunt of lovemaking and from that point into a love that will not cease. It is difficult not to fall in love with Lin and Julian, their affair. The novel has a way of making the reader forget that they are indeed characters based on real individuals. There are many "peaks" in the novel--one beautifully written scene in an opium den where the lovers show off their passion, their affection, their lust--their intertwined spirits. Ying also includes the most crisp details of Lin's apparel and various cloths, even these common items are sexually charged by the characters' exuberant behavior. Backdrops that work against the lovers include war, the free-style relationship Julian has with his own mother (a little on the oedipal side), pestering servants, an American female, a foul, ill-dressed European female, and Lin's husband Cheng (who does not make it difficult for Lin to have an affair). But I must state that it is love itself that serves as the most prominent antagonist for the two.Lin teaches Julian Daoist theories to lovemaking. Julian teaches Lin . . . well maybe another reader can help me see exactly what he teaches her. What is clear, however, is that Julian and Lin bend posture in each other. They release pinned-up fever only to realize that lust and clandestine tapping can actually turn into serious affection. Yes, one can fall in love after lust has had its say. Initially, one might believe that Lin is merely a bored wife who is also a successful writer. But, the novel shows readers that Lin is a woman in need of something more than success and marital status. More importantly, she is in need of giving love. It is she who comes to Julian over and again. It is Julian who lays and waits in great fervor for the sound of her footsteps "those light steps struck his ears sweeter than birdsong"; he waits for her presence, for the sex and for all of herself she constantly delivers. The novel's language moves with effervescence and will keep the reader deeply involved and very interested in what happens. As far as flaws in the book, one may only wonder what the relationship between Cheng and Lin [was] really like, but then again the novel leaves us to our own accord. Ying has written a beautiful, fine piece of work and deserves all the respect good writing warrants. Cheers!