In the late 1990s, a joke circulated in Beijing depicting the
difference between a go-go China and the all-too-staid United States. In
Palo Alto, a young woman goes out to dinner with a Chinese
entrepreneur. Driving her home, he accelerates through an intersection
as the light changes to red. When they arrive at her house, she won’t
invite him in. He obviously isn’t dependable, she says. He risked her
life back there at the crossing. In Beijing, the entrepreneur lands
another date and, taking that woman home, slows down at a yellow light.
At her doorstep, she, too, snubs him. Why did he stop? Clearly he
doesn’t know how to grab opportunities when he sees them.
To say that China has transformed itself over the past several
decades is an understatement. The erstwhile “sick man of Asia” now
boasts the world’s second-biggest economy and has more trade with more
countries than any other nation
. Twenty-five years ago, in 1989 — when millions of Chinese marched for
more freedom and less corruption in demonstrations that ended with a
crackdown around Tiananmen Square — China’s per-capita gross domestic
product, a measure of its economic output, was a paltry $403 a year.
This year it will top $7,000. When my college classmates in China
graduated in 1982, their salaries averaged $100 a month; now they all
own at least one apartment and boast flat-screen TVs bigger than my
family’s minivan.
But this voyage from Third World basket case to global powerhouse has
not been without its challenges. China produces more carbon dioxide than
any other country; its air, soil and water are laced with heavy metals
and other toxins. The gap between rich and poor is
bigger than America’s...
In the pages of the New Yorker, Evan Osnos has portrayed, explained
and poked fun at this new China better than any other writer from the
West or the East. In
“Age of Ambition,”
Osnos takes his reporting a step further, illuminating what he calls
China’s Gilded Age, its appetites, challenges and dilemmas, in a way few
have done.
Two themes drive this compelling and accessible
investigation of the modern Middle Kingdom. The first is hunger. China
is living through “a ravenous era,” Osnos declares early in the book.
And it’s a hunger not just for meat — the consumption of which has
increased sixfold since the 1970s. After 40 years of dead-end Maoism,
Chinese are combing the globe for commodities, wealth, experiences and
respect. The second theme is the chase. “All over China people were
embarking on journeys, joining the largest migration in human history,”
Osnos writes, and he doesn’t mean that just in physical terms. He
peppers the book with tales of characters making spiritual, economic,
emotional and philosophical expeditions that have transformed their
lives and the world as we know it.
And it all has happened so fast. As Osnos notes, the 1980 edition of
China’s authoritative dictionary, “The Sea of Words,” described
individualism as “the heart of the Bourgeois worldview, behavior that
benefits oneself at the expense of others.” But today Chinese have
embraced the idea that they can be the agents of their own fate with an
alacrity that perhaps only an American observer can really understand.
Osnos’s book brings to mind
“Chinese Characteristics,”
written by the American missionary Arthur H. Smith in 1894; it was the
most widely read book on China well into the 1920s. “Chinese
Characteristics” is riddled with the patronizing racism of the time, but
it’s also deeply insightful. Smith’s description of the Chinese concept
of “face” inspired China’s best-known writer, Lu Xun, to compose his
most famous short story,
“The True Story of Ah Q.”
Osnos’s examination of Chinese ambition is equally ambitious in
revealing the national traits of modern Chinese. While Chinese describe
themselves as more cautious than Americans, Osnos notes at one point,
psychological research has shown that they take consistently higher
risks with their investments than Americans of comparable wealth. In
most developing countries, the educational level of parents is
a decisive factor in determining how much a child will earn in
adulthood; but in China, Osnos writes in another section, “parental
connections” — not education — are the key, making urban China one of
the least socially mobile places in the world.
And finally, amid all of China’s frenetic energy and miraculous economic
growth, Osnos observes that its Gilded Age is an era without any
“central melody”; there’s a huge spiritual hole in the middle of the
Chinese soul, and, he argues, it makes that great country’s future
uncertain and a bit scary for them and for us — an insight Smith would
understand.
Want to read more? Please go to
Washington Post .
Age of Ambition:Chasing Fortune, Truth, and Faith in the New China, by Evan Osnos, Farrar Straus Giroux, 403 pages, $27