Lhasa: Streets with Memories

An unusual book that offers a layered and multi-faceted vision of Lhasa, with great historical depth and an uncommon awareness of the many factors at work. This is not a feel-good narrative, it does not take sides, nor does it presume to tell you what to think. Instead, it combines deep scholarship and detailed knowledge of the political, cultural, social and economic forces behind the tremendous changes in Lhasa since the Chinese arrived - the author is a world-renowned expert on Tibet - with an artist or a poet's sensitivity to what lies beneath appearances. In addition, the writer's perspective is infused with a rare and touching humility, a welcome relief from the rather authoritative or even didactive tone of much travel writing. There is a great deal to be learned from this subtle book and I enjoyed the juxtaposition of personal experience and learned content.

I had no more than a passing interest in Tibet when I was given this book, and I found it absolutely riveting. It gave me a clearer, more immediate sense of the cultural crisis in Tibet than any straightforward, linear history could have done. Robert Barnett begins with the premise that one has to learn how to read any foreign city, and points out that Lhasa, where so much of the text is hidden below the surface, has suffered more than most from foreign misreadings. The book sets out to make Lhasa more legible to foreigners, but what it achieves is deeper and far more important. Barnett approaches his subject from two perspectives, one intellectual, the other experiential. The main narrative traces the history, mythos and cultural development of the city, and is written from Barnett's current vantage point as a Tibet scholar. This on its own would be an interesting and informative read. But it is the secondary narrative that makes the book so compelling: In hushed italics, Barnett gives us glimpses of his own experiences in Lhasa, first as a hapless tourist who wanders into the middle of the 1987 uprising, and later as a part-time resident teaching at the university. He is careful not to impose his own interpretation on the events, but simply, and generously, shares his observations. The most harrowing of the episodes he recounts come early on, and have to do with his own inability to read Lhasa during a period when a foreigner's misreading could hold serious consequences for the Tibetans involved. Barnett has an artist's eye for detail, and his writing is lush and vivid. The dual narratives struck me at first as an interesting literary device: the scholar describes the city's development from the ground up, while the foreigner sees the superficial and gradually learns to read what's below the surface. But toward the end of the book, when the two narratives catch up with each other, something extraordinary happens: the scholar succeeds in making Lhasa more legible just as the foreigner observes that the city he has learned to read has in effect already been erased by the Chinese. This realization had a visceral impact on me; the tragic urgency of the situation in Tibet hit me like a blow. "Lhasa: Streets With Memories" is an important book and deserves a wide audience.

I am struck by the originality of Robert Barnett's approach, as well as the clarity and utter honesty of his voice. LHASA: STREETS WITH MEMORIES is a much needed tool in grappling with the way in which China has absorbed and digested old Tibet and, sadly, the way in which Beijing has re-interpreted Lhasan culture with often appalling results. It's an old tale but told from an utterly fresh viewpoint--a must-read for those who are troubled by China's ongoing stranglehold of Tibetan society.