Bai Xianyong is said to be the best stylist among today’s Taiwanese writers, and among the best writing in Chinese today. This is not something I’m in a position to judge. This novel translates well, partly because the subject matter, the subculture of gay hustlers in Taipei, is easily compared to similar settings in Europe or North America. Chinese society, for most of the thousands of years of its history, was not infected by the barbaric homophobia that obsessed Christian Europe. Unfortunately, European cultural norms, and of course the vicious gay-hatred of Communism on the mainland, have had their influence, and today the gay subculture of Taiwan occupies much the same social position that it does in America. Bai’s hustler characters could as easily be found in Toronto’s Church and Wellesley village, or in West Hollywood. The perfume of Chinese imagery, of jade and plum blossoms and so on, makes it seem a bit different. So do the numerous references to contemporary Chinese pop culture. Is it a good novel? Yes. The characters seem real, and you care about what happens to them. I recommend it.
