Wenfang Wang,Jicheng Sun｜A Guide to Understanding Identity in an Unfamiliar Setting
Review of Xie Hong’s “Who’s Chinese?”
Who’s Chinese by Xie Hong, delves into many themes, such as survival tactics, emotional detachment, and self-awareness. The novel centers around the lives of David, a writer, and his wife, Sue, narrating their journey to establish a new identity after immigrating to New Zealand. The story unravels their struggle through business failures, marital discord, and family dynamics, eventually leading them to realize the factors that have influenced them and where they truly consider their “home.”
Who’s Chinese represents Xie Hong’s latest work in English. Originating from Guangdong, China, Xie Hong is a bilingual writer in both English and Chinese. With fifteen works published, including nine novels, he has received several accolades, including the Shenzhen Youth Literature Award and the Guangdong New Work Award. Some of his works have also been translated into English, appearing in renowned publications such as World Literature Today, Renditions, and Literary Hub.
For those encountering or anticipating encounters with different cultures, identities, and issues of immigration, Who’s Chinese serves as an illuminating journey from China to New Zealand. This book offers insightful guidance amidst the perplexities of such experiences. Let us explore the reasons behind its classification as an “identity awareness guide.”
I
As a “guide,” the book primarily addresses inquiries and resolutions. The title, “Who’s Chinese,” sets the stage with an intriguing question, evoking the common concern of identity perception. The narrative commences by exploring three dimensions: survival necessities, emotional management, and identity perception. It delves deep into the intricacies of life in a foreign land, making comprehension and resolution more accessible.
When faced with life in a foreign country, survival invariably tops the list of challenges. Drawing from the experiences of David and Sue during their time in New Zealand and China, the novel provides pragmatic advice concerning education, employment, and daily living. For instance, reading classified ads in newspapers to find a Chinese landlord can help mitigate culinary constraints when seeking an apartment. The book also addresses international students’ part-time work opportunities, reminiscent of Sue and David’s stints as cleaners in a villa and a fashion factory.
The book dismantles preconceived notions about these countries, revealing the inaccuracy of certain “stereotypes.” For instance, New Zealand was not as safe at night as believed; the culinary culture differed significantly; New Zealanders were preoccupied with more than just “sheep”; and driving was more a matter of perception and judgment in China than strict adherence to New Zealand traffic rules.
Beneath the surface of survival, the novel delves into personal emotional development and relationships within a foreign context. Emotions encountered in New Zealand ranged from positive ones like yearning, relaxation, and joy to negative ones like melancholy, isolation, bewilderment, and anxiety. The narrative delves into my emotional evolution examines emotional shifts in other Chinese individuals, and contrasts their experiences. While embracing positive emotions may be manageable, tackling negative emotions proves more challenging. For instance, the powerlessness and disparity experienced by tenant Da Liu and the elderly Chinese lady, both navigating a foreign land, rendering them unable to cope, engulfing them in emotional turmoil, solitude, despondency, and loss of customary social interaction.
These struggles are not confined to relationships between peers but also to partners. When separated by geographical boundaries, the decision between succumbing to the allure of past desires and temptations versus remaining steadfast becomes apparent. When boundaries are crossed, the choice between severing ties entirely or tolerating and forgiving to maintain the status quo emerges. Life in a foreign country presents unprecedented challenges to marital bonds.
The novel follows my journey, detailing intimate connections with individuals like Lan and Qiao upon returning to China, ushering complex emotional entanglements. Sue’s yearning for reconciliation and her desire to coexist with her adult son also compels me to confront new familial connections. The novel tactically addresses complex emotional dynamics with courage and optimism. Amidst continuous introspection, I unearthed authentic emotions and desires, empowering me to navigate life more effectively.
After satisfying survival requisites and responding to emotional needs, the pressing matter of identity perception surfaces. “Identity” signifies status and authority over others, personal worth, and a sense of belonging (Wang Jiao, The Director’s Dimension. Beijing: China Film Press, 2013 ). Identity perception forms the cornerstone of personal existence. A lucid identity perception is not solely linked to the clarity of one’s motives but also shapes, and sometimes dictates, the intensity of one’s sense of presence and identity as a subject, along with the emergence of a spirit of rebellion.
Identity perception exerts a top-down, inside-out influence on individual lives. In light of this quandary, the novel advocates for authenticity, acceptance, and adjustment when necessary. Confronted with an uncertain future, while I may not have been unwavering, my willingness to confront my emotions and inner self remained unswerving.
Driven by climate, work, culture, and environment differences between China and New Zealand, I traversed a tumultuous period marked by loneliness, detachment, and the coldness of unfamiliar terrain. The desire to escape and abandon my current reality materialized. However, my intricate familial bonds and marital commitment presented New Zealand as a viable option, offering a space for escape from reality. Thus, I alternated between China and New Zealand for a decade, each journey characterized by distinct motives and mindsets. My choices were not independent; marital ties, personal reflections, and familial emotions molded them. Against this backdrop, I ultimately clarified my identity and purpose.
Personal experiences are unique, yet they can catalyze introspection. An alien environment signifies a novel domicile and temporary detachment from former professional, family, and moral ties. As such, individuals must establish new relationships, construct and uncover new meanings, and refine themselves.
While the domains of survival prerequisites, emotions, and identity perception vary in importance, they are interconnected. Through the three-dimensional evolution of distinct realms, characters’ identity perceptions are no longer subjected to abrupt transformation but rather shaped by qualitative changes stemming from quantitative shifts.
II
Conventional wisdom suggests that a “guidebook” should focus on resolving problems rather than expounding on the creation process. This rational approach might leave little room for maneuverability. Distinct from a purely rational guide, Who’s Chinese is imbued with literary essence, rendering the text an immersive experience. Externally, the book cover portrays a dark brown leather shoe juxtaposed against a backdrop of grass, sea, and mountains. The shoe is sharply defined, while the scenery remains blurred. The background’s grass, sea, and mountains evoke expansiveness, while the leather shoe symbolizes a protracted expedition, a journey. However, the true sense of immersion stems from the protagonist’s perspective.
The central focus of the image is the leather shoe, visible only in part. The identity of the shoe’s owner remains veiled, creating suspense and piquing curiosity about the owner’s identity. The lack of clarity regarding the shoe’s proprietor naturally induces a shift from uniqueness to universality. This association positions readers within the narrative, transforming them into distant travelers. This spatial imagination and speculation align rhythmically with the title’s probing question, harmonizing the exterior presentation with the subject.
The novel achieves an immersive experience primarily through its text. The language is lucid and succinct, while character dialogue maintains plot continuity, enriching the narrative’s atmosphere with immediacy and intimacy. Notably, the text includes anecdotes and colloquial references, infusing the content with humor.
Moreover, the narrative employs a predominantly linear temporal progression and adopts a first-person viewpoint, fostering an immersive experience. Tracking my vantage point, readers can discern my evolution as a foreigner in New Zealand, witnessing shifts in my emotional landscape. I initially felt uneasy upon arrival, acutely aware of disparities between my surroundings and homeland. I named myself in English, akin to calling out to an anonymous friend in the dark. Loneliness pervaded, prompting reflections on my journey’s purpose and seeking rationale. After assimilating, I contemplated applying for permanent residency in New Zealand, but after thorough contemplation, I resolved to return to my homeland. These personal shifts and choices were shaped over nearly a decade. While our daily routines might equally exhaust us, juxtaposed against Sue’s acceptance, my path seemed circuitous, ultimately converging back to its starting point. Despite this, the decision-making process consumed a substantial portion of my life. Decision-making is simple when options are limited, yet once choices abound, the temptation of status, prestige, and fame complicates the decision-making process. This paradox of choice often implies a struggle between giving and receiving. In the face of multifaceted factors, one tends to prioritize benefit maximization, relegating inner convictions to secondary positions—a practice contrary to its intended purpose.
III
Beyond serving as a guide and immersive experience, Who’s Chinese is commendable for its transcendent value. The text’s exploration of the Who’s Chinese theme exhibits acuity and precision and extends beyond the written word. Within the narrative, Who’s Chinese serves as both title and a connecting thread. The lives of immigrants in New Zealand mirror a psychological arena in which China and New Zealand are bridged. Notably, the author methodically segregates the geographical realms of China and New Zealand, spanning tangible aspects like transportation, landscape, cuisine, and seasons alongside metaphysical aspects, including culture, institutions, and ideologies. These aspects are employed as grounds for comparison and analysis. This introspective mirror compels David to unveil his authentic self, discovering an intrinsic aspect missing from his existence: a sense of belonging across the Pacific.
Examining surroundings is a natural inclination, paralleled by the tendency to view individuals as subjects of inquiry. Questions surface: Why did one immigrate to New Zealand? Was there a gap between idealized life and reality? Do regrets shroud one’s choices? These reflections are not limited to Sue and me, extending to characters like Mrs. Kong, her children, tenant Da Liu, tour guide Lao Cao, and others. Within this array are first-generation Chinese immigrants, Malaysian Chinese, and second-generation immigrants or those who migrated together. Despite their varied professional backgrounds, expertise, and motivations for venturing abroad, they all encountered the confluence of Eastern and Western environments and cultures. This presents dual challenges—exploiting a new domain while preserving familial bonds and traditional ethical relationships. Their decisions are riddled with concerns and dilemmas from varying viewpoints and motivations.
This narrative approach resonates with contemporary times. The 1990s surge in overseas migration paralleled China’s reforms and opening up. As global economic and trade interdependence surges today, identity dilemmas have transcended niche realms to permeate all spheres of society. Individuals are confronted with identity concerns.
More frequently than ever before. Triggered by his relocation to New Zealand and subsequent English studies at the Waikato Institute of Technology, Xie Hong began composing fiction in English in 2014, publishing his debut novel, Mao Town, in 2018. This book explores the identities of fellow Chinese individuals navigating a foreign terrain, intending to enlighten and reference.
The English perspective allowed Xie Hong to perceive his community and himself from an outsider’s viewpoint, expanding beyond the text’s confines. A Chinese proverb—“One who seeks a living from the soil cannot keep moving,”—resonates. The Chinese psyche, rooted in agricultural culture, clan values, and the hukou system, exhibits a profound attachment to the nurturing land. This sentiment engenders an enduring connection that transcends time and space. Thus, when distanced from their homeland, the gravitational pull of their cultural heritage inclines individuals towards certain choices. They seek to break free from their native milieu, observing themselves through an external lens, nurturing their culture and subjective identity.
By extricating oneself from the original familial perspective and scrutinizing life meticulously, it becomes apparent that some wrestle with familial conflict while others grapple with deep emotional ties. My relationship with my familial roots exemplifies this, offering a visual reference. Despite my international abode, my connection to my father remains steadfast. This distance unveiled shifts within our parent-child dynamics, with my father relinquishing his role as the stronger figure to emerge as a more vulnerable entity. As I matured into the family’s pillar, the father-son dynamic transitioned from confrontation to uneasy silence and finally to reconciliation with the past. This narrative prompts profound inquiries—Who’s Chinese? When does one realize the true essence of “home”? Amidst contemplation of these inquiries, transformation dawns.
IV
Although Who’s Chinese is both a guide and a literary creation, those seeking to emulate it will encounter disappointment. The author refrains from providing a straightforward directive—immigrate or stay—instead offering strategic advice: remain true to oneself and resist self-deception. This seemingly straightforward counsel demands substantial internal work, resembling the journey to simplicity. Sue’s and my paths, for instance, diverge. Sue grew weary of her daily existence in China and chose to migrate.
In contrast, my path appears circuitous, a winding journey that eventually led me back home. Nevertheless, these choices consumed nearly a decade of my life. When confronted with numerous options, making decisions becomes complex, influenced by prestige, position, and acclaim. Amidst multifaceted factors, personal convictions are often overshadowed—a misalignment that should be corrected.
Hence, the book concludes with inquiries: “Who is Chinese? What prompts migration, and how do individuals faring overseas navigate this challenge?” (Xie Hong). These queries, posed by either myself in the book or the author Xie Hong, beckon introspection and guidance for those navigating comparable dilemmas. To those grappling with disparate cultures, identity ambiguity, or immigration quandaries, Who’s Chinese promises an imaginative migration voyage, an identity odyssey for the mind and soul. Before embarking on definitive resolutions, engaging with this book offers valuable preparatory insights.
Who’s Chinese by Xie Hong / Independently published / ISBN-13: 979-8357636478
/2023/ 273 pages
[Translator: Jicheng Sun, Associate Professor of English, Shandong University of Technology, Zibo, Shandong, China, Email: sunjicheng@hotmail.com;
Author: Wenfang Wang, an award-winning poet and critic, she graduated from Shenzhen University with a Master of Arts degree and now works at Luoling Foreign Language Experimental School in Shenzhen, Guangdong Province.