So I was reading the New Yorker (yes, I am an un-American leftist looney) and I happened upon an article written by a man who was born and raised in America, lived in China for 10 years, then came back. The article, titled "Go West, Scenes from an American Homecoming," essentially compares and contrasts Chinese and American life.
I really hesitated to write about this because the full article isn't free online. You can access it with a digital subscription or in the magazine ($6 anywhere that sells magazines). But I'll do my best to make this interesting without access to the article. Read a preview of it if you want, though it won't help much.
Anywho, I immediately liked the article because it didn't portray the Chinese as the communist drones we tend to think of (and saw in the opening ceremony of The Olympics). Instead, the author used language like, "Everybody [in China] seems to live in the moment," and he portrayed the Chinese moving crew who packed his apartment as incredibly hard and efficient workers, harder workers than the Americans who unpacked it on the other side. (Wait, I thought communism promotes laziness?). To be fair, he was also living in Shanghai, one of the more free places in China.
More interesting still was the comparison between Chinese conversation and American. What the author, Peter Hessler, noticed was the Chinese ask questions, see conversations as a way to gather information and learn. They don't do much in the way of sharing personal experiences, stories or ideas. The Americans, Hessler argues, are more quick to tell a story, share an experience, and they're much lighter on the questions. He said that where the Chinese listen, the Americans wait for their turn to speak.
Best example (I'll type it up, shhh don't tell the New Yorker):
The [American] driver talked non-stop for a hundred and twenty miles, He told stories about his ex-wife, and he described his studies of Biblical Hebrew; he had strong opinions about the Book of Daniel. Nowadays, he lived in a trailer court, but during the nineteen-sixties he had travelled for France, Spain, Greece, and Turkey. "I had a rich uncle who took me there."
"Wow, that must have been nice," I said. "What did your uncle do?"
"That was Uncle Sam."
People in China never talked like that. They didn't like to be the center of attention, and they took little pleasure in narrative. They rarely lingered on interesting details. It wasn't an issue of being quiet; in fact, most Chinese could talk your ear off about things like foodand money and weather, and they loved to ask foreigners questions. But they avoided personal topics . . . Probably it was natural in the culture where people live in such close contact, and where everything revolves around the family or some other group. (Page 53)
This says a lot about the difference between American and Chinese culture. In China, the basic ideal is the common good – everything for the country and everything from the country. America, however, is focused on the individual. We were all taught to be our own person, raise ourselves up, chase the american dream. America, at least modern America, is built on the rugged individualism ideal: life is for the taking, for personal triumph. Whereas in China, life is for the living, and for the betterment of the community.
So it makes sense that Americans like personal stories more. Life is all about personal goals and successes, and our own life story tends to be a favorite; just look at how stacked the biography section is at any bookstore. Everyone likes writing about themselves. We are very selfish creatures here in the U.S. of A. Gotta look out for number one (and turn number one's past experiences into interesting narratives, thus promoting self-worth through glorification.)
The role of the individual in China is diminished (or maybe it's just put into perspective. Some of my friends could use a little of that). The overbearing sense of one-cog-in-the-machine-ism (like that coinage?) makes personal narratives uninteresting.
I don't know whether that's better or worse than what we have here. But I can say one thing: If I were to tell my own life story, I'd tell it to a Chinese person. At least I know they'd listen.
