Scan barcode
A review by ktlee_writes
The Backstreets: A Novel from Xinjiang by Perhat Tursun
2.0
THE BACKSTREETS: A NOVEL FROM XINJIANG by Perhat Tursun follows an unnamed narrator as he wanders through the streets of Ürümqi, the capital city of Xinjiang, China’s vast northwesternmost autonomous region and the native home of many Uyghurs, a Turkic ethnic group. Most Uyghurs are Muslim and have faced increasing persecution by the Chinese government, including forced sterilization, forced labor, and internment. In fact, Tursun himself disappeared in 2018, with reports that he has been imprisoned.
The novel is an atmospheric journey through the narrator’s mind, the predominant sensation one of melancholy and loneliness, as the narrator describes the constant “fog” of the city. His refrain is, “I don’t know anyone in this strange city, so it’s impossible for me to be friends or enemies with anyone.”
The plot, if one exists, follows the narrator as he tries to find a place to live, facing rejection after rejection. He perseverates about the numbers he sees making patterns, his office job with an uncaring but creepily smiling boss, and the smells and impenetrable pollution of the city.
Darren Byler, who translated this work along with a Uyghur writer who remained anonymous, provides an introduction that is very helpful for situating this book in the sociopolitical context.
This novel won’t be for everyone, as parts of it feel repetitive and dense, and the way women were depicted as sexual objects made me uncomfortable. The prose is reminiscent of Camus; stark and bleak. It’s neither plot- nor character-driven, but rather illuminates the emotional essence of Uyghur existence in the city. I picked this book up because I’m extremely interested in better understanding Uyghur life, but there were still several points where I almost set the book aside.
However, for readers who want insight into the Uyghur world, this is one of the few #OwnVoices books available in English that illuminate life in Xinjiang. I read it to honor Tursun’s life and as an act of resistance against the repression of Uyghurs by the Chinese government.
The novel is an atmospheric journey through the narrator’s mind, the predominant sensation one of melancholy and loneliness, as the narrator describes the constant “fog” of the city. His refrain is, “I don’t know anyone in this strange city, so it’s impossible for me to be friends or enemies with anyone.”
The plot, if one exists, follows the narrator as he tries to find a place to live, facing rejection after rejection. He perseverates about the numbers he sees making patterns, his office job with an uncaring but creepily smiling boss, and the smells and impenetrable pollution of the city.
Darren Byler, who translated this work along with a Uyghur writer who remained anonymous, provides an introduction that is very helpful for situating this book in the sociopolitical context.
This novel won’t be for everyone, as parts of it feel repetitive and dense, and the way women were depicted as sexual objects made me uncomfortable. The prose is reminiscent of Camus; stark and bleak. It’s neither plot- nor character-driven, but rather illuminates the emotional essence of Uyghur existence in the city. I picked this book up because I’m extremely interested in better understanding Uyghur life, but there were still several points where I almost set the book aside.
However, for readers who want insight into the Uyghur world, this is one of the few #OwnVoices books available in English that illuminate life in Xinjiang. I read it to honor Tursun’s life and as an act of resistance against the repression of Uyghurs by the Chinese government.