In the Pond: A Novel

Mei Chin

...[F]irst and foremost a comedy — naughty, lusty, raucously entertaining....a small tale about small people... — The New York Times Book Review

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

Prize-winning short-story writer Ha Jin (Ocean of Words won the PEN/Hemingway Award for first fiction; Under the Red Flag won the Flannery O'Connor Award) offers a wise and funny first novel that gathers meticulously observed images into a seething yet restrained tale of social injustice in modern China. Talented artist Shao Bin has an unsatisfying job at a large fertilizer plant. After being denied a decent housing assignment, he begins a series of retaliatory satirical cartoons, which illustrate his employers' flaws and in turn earn their wrath--which in turn inspires more cartoons. When his superiors try to transfer him, they are chagrined to discover that Bin is much in demand--and that any new job he gets is likely to be a step up. So they decide to keep him on. After an occasionally monotonous sequence of attacks and counterattacks, Bin finally gets promoted to the propaganda office. He is ecstatic, although his family must still make do with the same uncomfortable apartment that started the conflict. Luckily, the characters' complexity saves the story from political overkill. The supervisors, through moments of vulnerability, come to seem like genuinely detestable human beings rather than one-dimensional villains. Bin, similarly, is both justifiably indignant and annoying in his self-absorption. Ha Jin's humor initially appears clownish but almost always has a double purpose: when Bin's supervisor sits on his face to silence him, Bin bites the boss' posterior--illustrating rather vividly his refusal to kiss ass. Through Ha Jin's gently ironic treatment, Bin's struggle both to achieve power in his community and retain his own dignity transcends its Communist Chinese setting, engagingly illustrating a universal conundrum.

Mei Chin

...[F]irst and foremost a comedy -- naughty, lusty, raucously entertaining....a small tale about small people... -- The New York Times Book Review

Kirkus Reviews

A first novel by the Chinese dissident and poet whose previous stories (Under the Red Flag) have already entitled to him fair comparisons with Solzhenitsyn. Anyone in the West who picks up Ha Jin for the first time must experience a close approximation of what readers of Arthur Koestler or Isaac Babel felt 60 years ago, insofar as Ha Jin is the first Chinese Communist to make fictional use of daily life under the Party. Here, he describes the travails of Shao Bin, an amateur painter and calligrapher who works as a department-store fitter. Annoyed that his housing application has been passed over in favor of Party relatives and cronies, Shao Bin begins drawing and circulating satirical cartoons accusing the local Party heads of corruption. One of these eventually gets published in a Beijing newspaper, and Shao Bin finds himself at the center of a national debate on Party leadership and local politics. The ease with which Ha Jin's characters move between the old and new worlds that they simultaneously inhabit (praying to Buddha, for example, in order to receive Party preferment) lends a satiric edge to the daily ironies of Communist life in an essentially feudal society and gives Ha Jin's account a fabulous, almost allegorical tone much like that of Orwell's Animal Farm. If his prose occasionally gives off a leaden ring ("They had taken him for a mere bookworm, but all of a sudden he had emerged as a man of both strategy and action") reminiscent of a Maoist Party slogan, it can only add to the atmosphere. Fascinating, refreshing, and uncommonly subtle: Ha Jin has made China available to a new world and a world of new readers.