His house, a “crumbling old shack”, in Beijing was used by fellow creatives - writers, painters, poets and dissidents - as a secret meeting point. He spent most of his free time as an artist. I just want to know it, see it with my own eyes.” But that is the sanitised version.īefore he hit the road, Jian was an official photographer for the propaganda department of the All-China Federation of Trade Unions. I want to see different people, different lives. He claims to go travelling because: “I want to see my country, every river, every mountain. The book chronicles Jian’s travels throughout China during the 1980s, a time in which travel for the average Chinese citizen was banned without the necessary paperwork. I read it on my Kindle while in China last month, and found much of Jian’s descriptions, particularly of places I had been such as the ancient city of Xi’an and the Ghost City of Fengdu, very authentic. I’m not a huge fan of travelogues, but I decided to read Red Dust based on the strength of Ma Jian’s superb novel Beijing Coma and Max Cairnduff’s excellent review. Translated from the Chinese by Flora Drew. Non-fiction – Kindle edition CCV Digital 336 pages 2010.
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