Writers from China's diaspora
Novels about a Shanghai detective who possesses more cunning and refinement than Sherlock Holmes spring from the mind of Qiu Xiaolong.
Chief Inspector Chen Cao reads the poetry of the Tang and Song dynasties. He plays go-chess - a game so complex that no computer has ever beaten a novice player - and he loves fine food, consuming exotic fare such as the blood of a king snake.
Qiu, 50, is much like Chen. Shanghai-born, he shares his appetite for go-chess, verse and food. But Qiu, who teaches Chinese literature at Washington University, has never been a cop or a party member, and he's no loner. The father-of-one has been married since 1988. Qiu can't even live on the mainland. After the Tiananmen Square massacre, he wrote pro-democracy speeches and poems, which earned him a mention on Voice of America and he moved there in 1989.
Chen blends into China with difficulty. 'He is caught in a contradiction of a society in transition,' Qiu says. 'He is someone who can cause and raise a question, even though he may not provide the answer.'
Qiu's answers are usually laconic. With his love of 'neat and crisp language', he initially seems a hard man to engage in conversation. But his humour soon becomes apparent, as audiences found out during last year's Hong Kong International Literary Festival.
Qiu came to the festival virtually unknown, but left as one of the stars of the show. His appearance with mainland novelist Han Shaogong, whose responses he translated for festival-goers, was among the highlights of the event.
