What didn’t surprise me, however, was the forehead-slap-inducing way the China Daily obligingly tiptoed around one of the central themes of the novel, namely, that it sucked to be around during the Cultural Revolution.

Front and center, following the time-honored CCP of "shrugging off" a term they don’t like (see state usage of 所谓, translated into English as "so-called"), is the technique of putting quotation marks around the term Cultural Revolution and removing the capital letters, as if the accuracy of the words are in question and the referred-to historical event is unworthy of proper noun status. Every time the phrase is used it’s written like this.

Talking in Chinese about his best-selling novel, English, Wang describes life during the "cultural revolution" (1966-76) as "constant war, real or imagined, and nothing to eat".

One time when I thought they were going to say "cultural revolution," they ended up saying "cultural reaction."

"When I learned English I found out about life, things I had not known up to that point. English represented the things we wanted but couldn’t get, like political culture and democracy," Wang says.

"We couldn’t get them then because of the cultural reaction and even since the reform and opening-up we haven’t got all of them."

I had to think about this one. Maybe "cultural reaction" is exactly what Wang said in the Mandarin interview, as in, the Chinese cultural reaction didn’t accept these types of Western ideological intrusions.  Maybe he said Cultural Revolution and when the article was rendered into English, there was a typo that maybe was corrected by spell check to "reaction." Finally, and this is the one that I’m going with, the censors didn’t like a quote that implied that a government sanctioned campaign would deprive the citizenry of things like democracy and political culture (both of which the CCP claims are being offered by them to the people today) and so they creatively edited the phrase to something that would still somehow make sense (see possibility number 1).

Also interesting is an extremely contrived and eyebrow-raising paragraph where the author assures us that Wang is as equally critical of Western capitalism as he is of circumstances during the Cultural Revolution.

He professes not to see any downside to this material progress and it is only toward the end of the interview that he admits that being overweight can be unhealthy, or that capitalism has its problems too, like the economic crisis.

Conspicuously missing, of course, is a direct quote. Oh, and also an explanation as to why the writer of this article feels compelled to "balance out" Wang’s literary criticism of of the Cultural Revolution with one of capitalism when the article has nothing to do with that and is about Wang’s book. I mean, seriously, being "overweight can be unhealthy?" What?

And so in analyzing this article I’m going from "most obvious" to "most subtle," and the last thing I’m going to point out is not in your face but frankly is the most insulting to both Wang and readers of the articles like myself. Wang is a serious writer, according to reviews I’ve read there are light-hearted and comedic tones to English but nonetheless the book as a whole is a serious exploration of a dark time in China’s history and a young boy’s way of finding purpose throughout it all. I’m glad that the article bothered to mention that Wang won a major prize for his work in 2005.

Nonetheless, it seems to be the articles driving aim to depict Wang as a sort of irreverent clown, who does things solely for the "shock value," the continuing implication being that he’s not serious or what he’s not talking about is not based on facts.

Author Wang Gang enjoys joking around, preferably over a drink or two, and it’s often hard to tell whether he’s being serious or just saying something for its shock value.

That Wang is a jovial, joking kind of guy is probably a fact to be reported on in a news article, but the second clause about "shock value" is definitely the writer’s own insertion. The article goes on to call Wang’s story "semi-mythical," ignoring a vital distinction between the words "myth" and "fiction," describes "poking at authority figures" as part of Wang’s character (as opposed to something that is justified and necessary), and ends the article declaring outright that Wang is a "contrarian." Yeah, contrarian can have positive connotations but in the context of the article it definitely seems like the idea is "the guy that says the opposite just to get attention."

Finally, there’s the title of the article itself, "Wang talks English but it comes out in riddles," which makes no sense even when put alongside the content of the article. Unless, of course, your goal is to depict some guy as a jokester who is just trying to rile people up for attention and "speaks riddles" for the sheer satisfaction of seeing someone befuddled (and so don’t believe anything he has to say about history in his mythical novel!).

For a more substantial exploration of English, I refer you once more to Bruce Hume’s thoughts at the Paper Republic, which includes an interview with the two translators. Or better yet, go buy the book make a conclusion about Wang Gang on your own terms.

“This city is very much coming back alive again from that horrible disaster last month,” said Nico Rodriguez, an American who has been in Kashgar since June. “It’s like nothing ever happened.”

Two of the biggest signs of the return to normalcy, according to Hu, are the worshippers gathering together at the Id Kah Mosque to observe Ramadan and the reopening of the hotel which at times has been called the Yiquan Hotel (怡全宾馆) and at other times has been dubbed the similarly written Yijin Hotel (怡金宾馆) – Hu decided to go with the later. This two outward signs of improvement apparently intersect in that the hotel has “re-opened for the Muslim holy month of Ramadan,” to provide lodging for the religious flocking to various pilgrimage sites in and around Kashgar.

Muslims walk out of the Id Kah Mosque after afternoon prayers
during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan in Kashgar, Xinjiang. (Hu Yinan)

“Most of our guests are Uygurs, so we only have Uygur signs in our rooms. We’re doing fine, only that tourism here has been bad in general because of the violence this year,” a Yijin staff member told China Daily. “But the degree of tension has been exaggerated by outside media. I’ve been in Kashgar for more than 40 years; people get along here just like they do elsewhere.”

Keeping in mind that this is an English language article and is more likely written with foreign audiences in mind, one cannot help but sense that much of it is designed to obliquely address numerous ongoing claims that there is a Ramadan crackdown being implemented in response to the attacks. Hu emphasizes that part and parcel with the “return to normalcy” are Uyghurs taking part, unhindered and voluntarily, in the discipline demanded of them during Ramadan. The basis for claims of a Ramadan crackdown have been various township and village level government websites that made the political faux-pas of making regulations publically viewable online, and after the news hit the Western press, indeed some of these townships took the regulations off their site, but so far it seems that the Kashgar government has not at least publicly discussed Ramadan regulations, and so the actual extent of Ramadan restrictions throughout Xinjiang remains unknown. Interestingly, Hu decided to throw in the example of an unobservant Muslim into his article:

Traditionally, Kashgar restaurants close during the day for Ramadan. Some were closed; others remained open for business, serving lamb kebabs, fruits and tea throughout the day.

When asked about Ramadan dietary restrictions, a veiled female Uygur shopkeeper, who was eating sunflower seeds on a lazy afternoon, pounded on her husband’s chest and said: “It’s in there!”

“Why need it here?” she said in broken Mandarin while pointing at her own mouth.

Perhaps implying that if any Uyghurs are not observing Ramadan or if any Uyghur restaurants are remaining open, it’s on their own decision. Maybe readers from Kashgar can comment on the restaurant situation there; in Urumqi, Uyghur restaurants are staying open but have notably fewer patrons during the day and become very crowded after sunset.

Naturally, Uyghur testimony plays a big role on any commentary on the atmosphere in Kashgar.

Guli, a 19-year-old from Kashgar’s Bachu county, is aware that there have been heightened security measures, but they hardly affect her. “I don’t feel them. Young people like us don’t normally observe the fast anyway; only the older generation does, and I don’t see how they can be prevented from doing so,” she said.

“Why should I (be afraid)?” she continued. “You know what terror is? Terror is the bad thing that happens when you least expect it to. What happens around the clock is called life, not terror.”

“There is little feeling of terror here, unless you want to feel it. We’re just living the same old lives, ” she added.

Nurlan, a 56 year-old Muslim taxi driver, said the August bombing is the most brutal attack he has yet seen, and that such tragedies will not be replicated. “I observe the fast. We all follow the Holy Scriptures here, so you always have many more good people than bad,” he said.

“I think Kashgar is safe – safer than most places, and definitely those to the west of us. Whatever other people may say, nothing can destroy our lives,” he said.

Though, as is normally the case with studying Xinjiang, we can only see tiny bits of the big picture and must speculate what’s going on in between, because as long as we’re working with media coverage, for every Uyghur who says one thing, you can find a Uyghur who says something else. I do, however, see the logic in Nurlan’s observation that Xinjiang is probably much safer than “those to the west of us,” probably referring to the Central Asian states who are having a tougher time dealing with transnational religious movements. Nonetheless, in spite of Nurlan’s commentary, the government does see it fit every now and then to point out that that which happens in Central Asia also could very likely come to Xinjiang (if it already hasn’t).

I also respect the power of Nurlan’s observation that “Whatever other people may say, nothing can destroy our lives.” I believe a statement such as this not only rings true in general but also is a neutral statement that doesn’t necessarily take either side of the Xinjiang unrest.

Also:

But the ethnically Han owner of the Yijin, who asked that her name not be used, is undeterred. “I know they are not against us,” she said.

Spot the irony? Not a single of the Han Chinese interviewed for the article are named, though the American and Uyghur sources are.