Xiaolu Guo

This short novel (about 180 pages) is blessed by exceptional writing, the more impressive considering the challenging subject matter. The story moves back and forth between Coral’s life with her boyfriend in Beijing now and her upbringing in the Village of Stone, a largely isolated, poverty-stricken fishing village on the South China Sea. Orphaned and raised by grandparents who did not speak to each other, Little Dog is not only scorned by the village but is raped, abused, and imprisoned by the village mute, then deals with an unwanted pregnancy followed by an abortion, and finds both herself and her grandmother ostracized within the village. Her resilience and fortitude in the face of her life are little short of extraordinary. I was very impressed with Xiaolu’s writing and dismayed to learn just how much of the story may be autobiographical. Notwithstanding a horrendous childhood, she not only survived but prospered. She moved from China to Britain at the age of 29 and published her first novel written in English a mere five years later. (She has written at least six other novels, a couple memoirs, essays, a short story collection and directed nearly a dozen films, picking up prizes in both mediums frequently along the way.) This particular book was shortlisted for both the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize (forerunner to the Booker) as well as the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award and it’s easy to see why. Highly recommended.… (more)

Xiaolu Guo's writing is direct and keen, offering up a vivid portraiture of a young Chinese woman, Fenfang, trying to make her way through life in Beijing in the early 2000s. Fenfang rubberbands back and forth; she goes from wanting to waning, from working in a movie theatre to being an extra in a film, from apartment to apartment as she figures out what to do next.

Although each fragment/chapter may seem sort of random at times, I think each one gives such a startlingly realistic vignette of key moments for Fenfang, some big and dramatic and others quiet and reflective. Sure, there are repetitive scenes, but each one is different in the sense that they illustrate tiny moments of growth and change throughout her life, little steps forwards in a new direction. One of my favorites is the fragment of Fenfang preparing for her new job in an office, setting alarm clocks and worrying about her outfit and trying to figure out the inane office dynamic only to quit the same day and move to the next part of life. It's SUCH an in-your-twenties-with-no-"Big Life Plan" moment and it felt so relatable!

"Twenty Fragments of a Ravenous Youth" is a unique gem of a book that will certainly resonate with the readers who take the time to get to know Fenfang and join her on her journey through a changing China and deeper into adulthood.… (more)

This is a book I don't even know how I came across. There it was, in my library check-out pile, so I read it. So, I don't really have a context for it at all.

That being said, I'm glad I read it. It was intriguing and constructed well enough that I read it in two or three days; it's also not long at all. But the author covers a lot of material in those 164 (small) pages.

I rarely agree with the "Praise for" statements on the back of a cover. But in this case, I agree with two of them. The Irish Times used the phrase "instinctive, humane witness" to describe the author. I'd use it to describe the main character, Fenfang, whose eyes and voice we witness parts of China (primarily Beijing) in some of the first years of the twenty-first century. (I'm not sure how closely Fenfang is based on the author's own experience, but it appears, and it feels, like they could be related.)

The Sunday Times (which would be...where?) says it's a "sharp, unpretentious, sophisticated piece." And if they mean "sharp" like "raw" or like "keenly insightful" then I also agree. The "unpretentious, sophisticated" part it right on.

I think it's important to note that this book was translated from Chinese, and then the author revised it in English. I think that shows through a little, not that I fault the work for that fact. Some parts read more smoothly is all. And it's also relevant to note that Xiaoulu Guo intentionally wrote in a raw, unsophisticated, slang-driven Chinese, and had to have Fenfang's voice translated over to English, where sometimes no correlations existed.

What I like best about this book is that it is a work of observation, seemingly lightly shaped by the author. Fenfang is, in all likelihood, severely depressed, clinically anxious, and possibly traumatized. But the book isn't about that. It's the observations of a raw, unvarnished human who is driven by a quest, without even recognizing what path she's on. Despite that, the author shapes the story enough that it itself is not a depressing read, and that we have hope for Fenfang as she leaves Beijing and continues the quest at the end of the book.… (more)

Iona is a young woman from the Scottish islands, working in London as a translator. She is sent a parcel of letters and diaries written in Chinese, with a brief to translate then and try to turn them into a book.

The letters turn out to be between two Chinese activists caught up in the youth protests in Tianenmen Square, and the aftermath. Jian is a punk musician from the city, and Mu is a poet from the countryside. Iona strives to untangle their story and find out what happened to them.

It took me a while to get into this book. I didn't particularly warm to Iona as a character, and the plot revelations around Jian and Mu are very slow in coming, so the first half of the book did not engage me much. Once Guo gets going and moves Jian's story to the foreground things get more interesting and, in the end, this book is a worthwhile read.… (more)