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Villages sidelined in vision of good life
By Wan Lixin |
August 19, 2009, Wednesday
|
Print Edition
Print Edition
THE persistent racket conspired by bulldozers, cranes and drills suggests how careful we are about the first impressions we intend to make on visitors to the Expo next year.
If only we have been equally careful in the wording of Expo themes.
I am not thinking of "Better City, Better Life." The English version basically expresses the common aspirations of urbanites fed up with cars, toxic air, crowds of strangers and the concrete jungle.
But the Chinese version, literally "Cities, Make A Better Life," leaves much to be desired.
The sentence simply cannot be grammatically punctuated that way, as any Chinese pupil will point out.
I have tried to see if the forceful insertion of a comma makes other interpretations possible, and conclude that the comma was no more than ungrammatical.
If any, the only positive function of the comma is to delay, rather than soften, the impact of the statement.
To say the least, whether a city makes life better can provoke much debate, from a long time ago.
William Cowper (1731-1800) wrote in his poem "Task" that "God made the country, and man made the town," implying what God created to be much superior to what was conceived by man.
Predominantly agrarian Chinese traditionally view urban influence with suspicion.
Like elsewhere in the world, when villagers venture to the cities for the first time, they are admonished by their mothers to have their cash stowed away in pockets closest to their person, and not to trust any one there.
Ultimately it comes down to the conflict of agriculture-based village life, and industrialized and commercialized urban life.
In his "Why Should We Build China On Agriculture" (1926), classical scholar Zhang Shizhao (1881-1973) explained why our sages have intended us for agriculture, with its emphasis on honest labor (rather than leisure), the commonplace (rather than the extraordinary) and thriftiness (rather than luxury).
"To sum up, there is a limit to the supplies of resources on earth, while the desire for them can be limitless. Thus a crisis will occur when men of unlimited desires compete for limited resources," he wrote.
Agriculture as practiced in China has sustained one of the greatest civilizations for thousands of years without having to resort to colonies, wars and globalized trade.
Urbanize
The passage of time does not enhance the savor of urban life, though it does enhance Zhang's clairvoyance and sagacity.
It would be curious to see how Cowper and Zhang would reflect if they were thrown into a megacity today.
But I would be guilty of hypocrisy if I say that the "City, Makes Life Better" slogan totally misses the boat.
The observation that urban amenities represent all that is good in life has tapped into the national psyche, articulated or not.
No one in his senses today would not regard his rustic origins with misgivings, as urban parentage represents numerous solid advantages.
Ironically, Chinese peasants have become the most important forces in fueling China's urban expansion.
As a matter of fact, in this age of hectic growth, a peasant's only ambition is to get away from the fields and stop being a peasant.
This ambition finds endorsement in stated official policy to urbanize.
Depending on the uses you are going to make of it, urbanization as it is practiced in China can be capable of a variety of arcane and dignified interpretations, but probably what you see and hear makes it more real.
For me it is evocative of several pictures.
My sister and her husband tried their luck in Shenzhen in the early 1990s, leaving their infant son behind in the care of my mother in a village for about five years.
My mother said that on several occasions she was surprised to see the boy gazing at a much crumpled photo of his parents, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
The boy later joined his parents who now have a plush car, several flats and handsome salaries. But he does not like that big city.
My mind also turns to migrants on the bus or the Metro, who can be easily identified by their dress. They invariably hold on tenaciously to their bedrolls and living utensils.
Before long only their accent will betray their origins.
I have met on several occasions some seductively clad young women laughing and frolicking recklessly on buses. They are migrants, obviously emboldened and excited by the anonymity of urban existence.
It reminds me of Thomas Hardy's (1840-1928) poem "Ruined Maid," in which the maid proudly announces: "One's pretty lively when ruined."
Price to pay
There will be a time when China has to reassess its aggressive, yet-to-be-defined urbanization drive.
When urban life is seen as the only life worth living, we need to be prepared for massive social dislocations.
Increasingly some migrants bring their families to town, but cities have little intention of having them take root.
It is reported that a Minhang District township's decision to close a school for migrants provoked resistance from parents and teachers, with a vice principal threatening to set herself on fire (August 15, Shanghai Daily).
That peasants still flock to the cities manning positions frowned upon by urban folk suggests the degree to which rural life has been stigmatized.
The globalization-fueled growth has kept policy makers so excited for the past two decades that they simply ignore the price that is to be paid sometime in the future.
The industrialized process has been draining rural soil of its flower of youth, capital and resources, and leaving poison behind.
The latest example is the lead-poisoning incident in Shaanxi that sickened hundreds of children, provoking violent protests from villagers and a suicide attempt by one teenager (August 18, Shanghai Daily).
The incident is yet another depressing comment on "Cities, Make a Better Life."
If only we have been equally careful in the wording of Expo themes.
I am not thinking of "Better City, Better Life." The English version basically expresses the common aspirations of urbanites fed up with cars, toxic air, crowds of strangers and the concrete jungle.
But the Chinese version, literally "Cities, Make A Better Life," leaves much to be desired.
The sentence simply cannot be grammatically punctuated that way, as any Chinese pupil will point out.
I have tried to see if the forceful insertion of a comma makes other interpretations possible, and conclude that the comma was no more than ungrammatical.
If any, the only positive function of the comma is to delay, rather than soften, the impact of the statement.
To say the least, whether a city makes life better can provoke much debate, from a long time ago.
William Cowper (1731-1800) wrote in his poem "Task" that "God made the country, and man made the town," implying what God created to be much superior to what was conceived by man.
Predominantly agrarian Chinese traditionally view urban influence with suspicion.
Like elsewhere in the world, when villagers venture to the cities for the first time, they are admonished by their mothers to have their cash stowed away in pockets closest to their person, and not to trust any one there.
Ultimately it comes down to the conflict of agriculture-based village life, and industrialized and commercialized urban life.
In his "Why Should We Build China On Agriculture" (1926), classical scholar Zhang Shizhao (1881-1973) explained why our sages have intended us for agriculture, with its emphasis on honest labor (rather than leisure), the commonplace (rather than the extraordinary) and thriftiness (rather than luxury).
"To sum up, there is a limit to the supplies of resources on earth, while the desire for them can be limitless. Thus a crisis will occur when men of unlimited desires compete for limited resources," he wrote.
Agriculture as practiced in China has sustained one of the greatest civilizations for thousands of years without having to resort to colonies, wars and globalized trade.
Urbanize
The passage of time does not enhance the savor of urban life, though it does enhance Zhang's clairvoyance and sagacity.
It would be curious to see how Cowper and Zhang would reflect if they were thrown into a megacity today.
But I would be guilty of hypocrisy if I say that the "City, Makes Life Better" slogan totally misses the boat.
The observation that urban amenities represent all that is good in life has tapped into the national psyche, articulated or not.
No one in his senses today would not regard his rustic origins with misgivings, as urban parentage represents numerous solid advantages.
Ironically, Chinese peasants have become the most important forces in fueling China's urban expansion.
As a matter of fact, in this age of hectic growth, a peasant's only ambition is to get away from the fields and stop being a peasant.
This ambition finds endorsement in stated official policy to urbanize.
Depending on the uses you are going to make of it, urbanization as it is practiced in China can be capable of a variety of arcane and dignified interpretations, but probably what you see and hear makes it more real.
For me it is evocative of several pictures.
My sister and her husband tried their luck in Shenzhen in the early 1990s, leaving their infant son behind in the care of my mother in a village for about five years.
My mother said that on several occasions she was surprised to see the boy gazing at a much crumpled photo of his parents, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
The boy later joined his parents who now have a plush car, several flats and handsome salaries. But he does not like that big city.
My mind also turns to migrants on the bus or the Metro, who can be easily identified by their dress. They invariably hold on tenaciously to their bedrolls and living utensils.
Before long only their accent will betray their origins.
I have met on several occasions some seductively clad young women laughing and frolicking recklessly on buses. They are migrants, obviously emboldened and excited by the anonymity of urban existence.
It reminds me of Thomas Hardy's (1840-1928) poem "Ruined Maid," in which the maid proudly announces: "One's pretty lively when ruined."
Price to pay
There will be a time when China has to reassess its aggressive, yet-to-be-defined urbanization drive.
When urban life is seen as the only life worth living, we need to be prepared for massive social dislocations.
Increasingly some migrants bring their families to town, but cities have little intention of having them take root.
It is reported that a Minhang District township's decision to close a school for migrants provoked resistance from parents and teachers, with a vice principal threatening to set herself on fire (August 15, Shanghai Daily).
That peasants still flock to the cities manning positions frowned upon by urban folk suggests the degree to which rural life has been stigmatized.
The globalization-fueled growth has kept policy makers so excited for the past two decades that they simply ignore the price that is to be paid sometime in the future.
The industrialized process has been draining rural soil of its flower of youth, capital and resources, and leaving poison behind.
The latest example is the lead-poisoning incident in Shaanxi that sickened hundreds of children, provoking violent protests from villagers and a suicide attempt by one teenager (August 18, Shanghai Daily).
The incident is yet another depressing comment on "Cities, Make a Better Life."
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