Rating: 
Summary: Deadly accurate and fascinating reading
Review: A thoroughly engaging, brutally honest, and sometimes devastatingly funny view of China that can only be matched for sheer relevance and accuracy by her next book, Jan Wong's China. Two real page turners indeed. Put aside naiive platitudes put forth by starry eyed kung-fu students, tourists, and other temporary outsiders about Chinese society. If you want an inside glimpse of the China that was as well as the one that you can expect to encounter today if you live there for any amount of time then these are the two books for you. If I hadn't seen and experienced such things myself while in China I may not have been able to believe that she hasn't exaggerated at all. I found myself nodding my head and exclaiming "That's right!" throughout. Like Jan, I have a deep affection for Asia and it's people having lived here for 10 years and married into the culture. However, I deplore the constant attempts at covering up the less flattering aspects of life here. Jan has blown the lid off and revealed everything, warts and all, no doubt angering many in the process. I say bravo! I eagerly await her next book.
Rating:
Summary: Wong helps to peel back the layers of Chinese society.
Review: Before leaving for China, I had always appreciated Jan's work that often appeared in the Globe & Mail. Then having spent several years in China, I began to recognize some of the peculiarities during my time there helped by the observations from Jan's writing. I taught at The University of Science & Technology in Hefei, Anhui province where I met one of the leaders of the Democracy Movement who was then under house arrest. I also witnessed many student demonstrations on the campus and lively notice board discussions. In 1978 I left there for Canada after my first contract hoping to return the next year, but the Tiananmen "Incident" intervened. The first person I turned to in Canada for information about China was Jan Wong who continued to write cogently about the turmoil in China. Her book, an excellent collection of her work during her in and out doctrination in The Middle Kingdom, is required reading for those who wish to learn about recent developments in China's continuing dramatic social evolution. I hope she has something else in the mill to bring us up to date on the current economic revolution and its effect on this great but perplexing part of the world.
Rating:
Summary: A must-read if you're planning to visit China
Review: I read the book before traveling to China. It was invaluable in helping me understand recent Chinese history. Wong's story helped me understand what someone experienced during the Cultural Revolution. We had a speaker who told many of the same kinds of stories. This book helped make my visit to China richer, more meaningful and interesting. Her images prepared me for what I would be viewing myself. Very well-written and interesting to read.
Rating: 
Summary: Marching in place.
Review: I should start with why I like and recommend this book. Jane Wong tells a fascinating story, and I found this book to be extremely hard to put down. Her descriptions of life in China during the latter part of the cultural revolution, the gradual reopening of the country following Mao's death, and the crackdown at Tiananmen are first rate, emotionally powerful, and give you a sense of what it would have felt like to "be there" during those momentous events in recent Chinese history. I almost didn't read this book because I have read so many other books on China over the past years (in addition to a brief visit and many conversations with Chinese friends) that I didn't think this one would have much to offer. I couldn't have been more wrong. I would rate this book in the top two, along with Steven Mosher's "Broken Earth; The Rural Chinese". My disappointment with the book is due to the remarkable lack of depth in Jane's own spiritual journey. I was surprised to learn that she never really breaks with Mao. In the final scene of the book she is at a celebration of the 100th anniversary of Mao's birth, wearing a Mao button and nostalgically singing the Internationale (she explainst that the communist anthem is still one of her favorite songs). While vacuously deceptive, the book's subtitle "My Long March from Mao to Now" is technically accurate; time did pass, Mao died, and she, like China, has changed. However, "My Long March from Mao to... a Little Less Mao" would be more descriptive. Perhaps because she hasn't rejected Mao, she approaches the many forms of oppression in today's China not as vestiges of the Maoist system, but as creations of the new one. It is as if the opening of the curtains had created the stage, instead of revealing it. In response to the horror of the Tiananmen crackdown, she remarks that "Mao never had to send tanks into Beijing". It apparently doesn't occur to her that Mao would have imprisoned and/or executed these people long before tanks were needed, even though she personally witnessed Mao's crushing of the much more subdued "Democracy Wall" movement years earlier. Likewise, while recounting China's continuing widespread use of the death penalty and slave labor camps for political criminals, she doesn't seem to make the connection that this was the system she had declared morally superior and dedicated herself to. If she felt a tinge of personal responsibility while recounting these horrors, she certainly kept it to herself. She tells us early in the book that she originally hoped to go to China with the goal of becoming the Chinese equivalent to "Hanoi Jane", serving as Mao's mouthpiece to the west. She further explains that she was fully prepared to lie in her effort to promote the cause, and that she felt that in this case lying wouldn't be wrong because it would be in defense of a "perfect" system. This is a fascinating admission, because it demonstrates that even then she knew she was being lied to. Why expect to have to lie when promoting "Utopia" to those who haven't seen it, especially before you've seen it yourself? For me the most disturbing thing is that she seems to think that her admission that she shouldn't have turned the people in who begged her for help during the cultural revolution constitutes the completion of, and not the first step towards, a personal moral (or if you prefer Karmic) accounting. She stops at "this was wrong", without asking the hard questions of why she did this in the first place. Her self assurances that "we all did this during the cultural revolution", and "I was naive" fall far short of the mark. True, most (if not all) ordinary Chinese did find themselves forced to inform on others as a means of survival during the Cultural Revolution. However, unlike them she had the opportunity to leave whenever she wanted (she had to plead to stay). She informed out of ideology, not self-preservation. She believed that those who committed "thought crimes" deserved whatever punishment Maoist China reserved for them. This is where the argument "I was naive" would come to play (at least partially), except in her case it is equally false. Unlike ordinary Chinese, she knew what the free world she was rejecting was like, and to the extent that she was lied to, it was a deliberate choice on her part to accept the lies. Lastly, she doesn't make much of an effort to find out what happened to the "thought criminals" she informed on. Were they sent to the gulag? executed? or just exiled to the countryside for hard labor, extreme deprivation, and "thought reform"? When were they released? Did they survive? We are never told. To be fair to the author, neither group she considers herself a part of would prod her to undertake a more thorough moral and philosophical accounting of her life's choices. Her nostalgia for Mao doesn't place her out of line with current mainstream or even dissident Chinese thought. As she recounts, the Tiananmen democracy activists didn't hesitate to turn over those in their ranks who vandalized the giant picture of Mao on the square. Likewise, there is no movement within the 60s radical community to reconsider it's profound moral support of communist regimes. Those who reverently carried (and quoted from) a copy of Mao's "Little Red Book" and publicly chanted "Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Mihn!" 30 years ago, limit themselves today to gushing about how much less repressive these systems are now than when they wholeheartedly supported them. The most troubling thought is if someone with Jane's profound personal experiences isn't inspired to consider these issues while writing a book about her own life's journey, who will?
Rating:
Summary: Marching in place.
Review: I should start with why I like and recommend this book. Jane Wong tells a fascinating story, and I found this book to be extremely hard to put down. Her descriptions of life in China during the latter part of the cultural revolution, the gradual reopening of the country following Mao's death, and the crackdown at Tiananmen are first rate, emotionally powerful, and give you a sense of what it would have felt like to "be there" during those momentous events in recent Chinese history. I almost didn't read this book because I have read so many other books on China over the past years (in addition to a brief visit and many conversations with Chinese friends) that I didn't think this one would have much to offer. I couldn't have been more wrong. I would rate this book in the top two, along with Steven Mosher's "Broken Earth; The Rural Chinese". My disappointment with the book is due to the remarkable lack of depth in Jane's own spiritual journey. I was surprised to learn that she never really breaks with Mao. In the final scene of the book she is at a celebration of the 100th anniversary of Mao's birth, wearing a Mao button and nostalgically singing the Internationale (she explainst that the communist anthem is still one of her favorite songs). While vacuously deceptive, the book's subtitle "My Long March from Mao to Now" is technically accurate; time did pass, Mao died, and she, like China, has changed. However, "My Long March from Mao to... a Little Less Mao" would be more descriptive. Perhaps because she hasn't rejected Mao, she approaches the many forms of oppression in today's China not as vestiges of the Maoist system, but as creations of the new one. It is as if the opening of the curtains had created the stage, instead of revealing it. In response to the horror of the Tiananmen crackdown, she remarks that "Mao never had to send tanks into Beijing". It apparently doesn't occur to her that Mao would have imprisoned and/or executed these people long before tanks were needed, even though she personally witnessed Mao's crushing of the much more subdued "Democracy Wall" movement years earlier. Likewise, while recounting China's continuing widespread use of the death penalty and slave labor camps for political criminals, she doesn't seem to make the connection that this was the system she had declared morally superior and dedicated herself to. If she felt a tinge of personal responsibility while recounting these horrors, she certainly kept it to herself. She tells us early in the book that she originally hoped to go to China with the goal of becoming the Chinese equivalent to "Hanoi Jane", serving as Mao's mouthpiece to the west. She further explains that she was fully prepared to lie in her effort to promote the cause, and that she felt that in this case lying wouldn't be wrong because it would be in defense of a "perfect" system. This is a fascinating admission, because it demonstrates that even then she knew she was being lied to. Why expect to have to lie when promoting "Utopia" to those who haven't seen it, especially before you've seen it yourself? For me the most disturbing thing is that she seems to think that her admission that she shouldn't have turned the people in who begged her for help during the cultural revolution constitutes the completion of, and not the first step towards, a personal moral (or if you prefer Karmic) accounting. She stops at "this was wrong", without asking the hard questions of why she did this in the first place. Her self assurances that "we all did this during the cultural revolution", and "I was naive" fall far short of the mark. True, most (if not all) ordinary Chinese did find themselves forced to inform on others as a means of survival during the Cultural Revolution. However, unlike them she had the opportunity to leave whenever she wanted (she had to plead to stay). She informed out of ideology, not self-preservation. She believed that those who committed "thought crimes" deserved whatever punishment Maoist China reserved for them. This is where the argument "I was naive" would come to play (at least partially), except in her case it is equally false. Unlike ordinary Chinese, she knew what the free world she was rejecting was like, and to the extent that she was lied to, it was a deliberate choice on her part to accept the lies. Lastly, she doesn't make much of an effort to find out what happened to the "thought criminals" she informed on. Were they sent to the gulag? executed? or just exiled to the countryside for hard labor, extreme deprivation, and "thought reform"? When were they released? Did they survive? We are never told. To be fair to the author, neither group she considers herself a part of would prod her to undertake a more thorough moral and philosophical accounting of her life's choices. Her nostalgia for Mao doesn't place her out of line with current mainstream or even dissident Chinese thought. As she recounts, the Tiananmen democracy activists didn't hesitate to turn over those in their ranks who vandalized the giant picture of Mao on the square. Likewise, there is no movement within the 60s radical community to reconsider it's profound moral support of communist regimes. Those who reverently carried (and quoted from) a copy of Mao's "Little Red Book" and publicly chanted "Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Mihn!" 30 years ago, limit themselves today to gushing about how much less repressive these systems are now than when they wholeheartedly supported them. The most troubling thought is if someone with Jane's profound personal experiences isn't inspired to consider these issues while writing a book about her own life's journey, who will?
Rating:
Summary: renewed my faith in china memoirs
Review: I've both lived in and studied China for a few years now, and have read a few really excellent books on it, but this is by far the most enjoyable book I've found yet on China. It seems most memoir books are either too dry or too one-sided, but Jan Wong's "Red China Blues" is full of rich detail and stories, is never long winded nor boring, and continuously reminds the reader that some of this is her own opinion based on her long experience in China. I loved this book. This is one of those books that makes me disappointed after I finish it because I know I won't find another book this great for a long time. I also recommend "China Wakes" by Kristoff and WuDunn. That book has a bit more of an academic journalistic tone, but is still informative and highly readable nonetheless.
Rating:
Summary: An excellent work
Review: It's amazing how Jan Wong's frustrations as a Canadian who looked but did not speak Chinese in China are so easy to relate to even though 30 years have passed since the beginning of her account. As a Chinese-American who traveled to China recently, I highly recommend this book. Old, many-times-read copies of this book are passed from older travelers to newer travelers in youth hostels in China (because it's very honest and good, but it's banned from sale!).
Rating: 
Summary: Excellant Cultural Revolution and Tiananmen Coverage
Review: Jan Wong writes compactly and with lots of information, as you would expect from a seasoned journalist. Since Jan Wong was in China for two separate periods, one during the Cultural Revolution and another during the Tiananmen Square incident in 1989, the book is divided into two fairly distinct halves. Both offer a first hand account of the two important periods in Chinese history. However, the book is first and foremost a memoir, not a history text. She tells very personal stories of her adjustment, frustration, and love of life in China. Reading this as a Westerner, I admit to especially enjoying the tale of her trying to become truly Chinese, despite being a Westerner. For those of us (like myself) who envision doing wild things like running off to foreign lands and totally changing our lives, reading this book is a safe way to live an alternate life for a few hours while maintaining the luxury of your favorite armchair. Next summer I embark on a trip to China and will have a better sense of its recent past for having read this book. For the historian, this book offers great historical evidence of the failings of a totalitarian state. If China couldn't hide its problems from one of only two Westerner students in Beijing in 1972, then you know it had real problems, as Jan Wong tearfully discovered during her time there. Doesn't get five stars because I wanted to her more about her return to the West and how that affected her. She focuses exclusively on China and does not explain how her thoughts shifted over time after she returned to America and Canada. Otherwise, great read.
Rating:
Summary: I did not want to have a title, but they made me
Review: Jan Wong's Red China Blues is the story of a child of capitalism drawn in by the wonders of communism. Having grown up in the time of revolution in the west, Jan was among the revolutionary teenagers who changed the face of the western world. She defied her parents and the government, and wished to go to her home country of China, where she thought Mao Tse-Tong led the people towards a perfect world where everyone was equal. Throughout her visits to China, Jan learned about the culture of the country and learned that the world there was not what she had believed. There were unhappy people everywhere, and people were oppressed by the government. Jan recounts this through her many experiences from her first experience with a Chinese worker to her reporting days with The Globe. This book is very effective in portraying the communist government because it is from the perspective of a person who originally thought that communism would solve all of the problems of the world but who later discovered the shortcomings of the system. Jan also is able to give the unique view of a foreigner who fits in with the Chinese people. Having assimilated during her time in Beijing University, Jan was able to later assume the disguise of a native to help her reporting. Red China Blues has the unique effect of having an outsider's point of view on the government and events. Jan knows what happens in other countries and is able to make comparisons between life in different situations. This comparison helps put events into perspective for the reader. Jan does this extremely well in her recount of the Tienanmen Square incident. She spent time in the square with the students, and even gained the experience by acting as one of them for some time. The best part of this is her report on the military attack on the students. This is a first hand account of what happened that night from someone who saw it all from an indifferent point of view. From her hotel room, Jan saw everything without fearing for her life, and was able to tell it like it is. Overall, despite the inclusion of certain unnecessary passages, such as the chapter about Dr. long, this book is very effective in educating people about communist China while at the same time, offering an enjoyable reading experience.
Rating:
Summary: Informative and Entertaining
Review: My husband and I are in the process of reading this book together, and are thoroughly enjoying it. Wong tells her story with candor and humor, never neglecting to describe the horrors and failings of the revolution while also making sure to relate the positive, uplifting, and sometimes humorous aspects of the system. An enlightening read with unique perspective.
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