Customer Reviews

The Bridge of Birds

5 star:		(165)
4 star:		(11)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Once upon a time, in post-war Britain, and author named Ernest Bramah started to write what became a slim handful of books set in an ancient, and mostly mythical, China. The hero of these books was Kai Lung, who is best described as a well meaning rascal. The stories tell of his (mis)adventures in love and the pursuit of sufficient cash. Bramah had a rare, polished style, full of irony and sly humor, which was the continual delight of his readers. In this reissue of the 1984 edition Barry Hughart ventured for the first time into a rarified world entirely reminiscent of Kai Lung's with equal aplomb and verve.

Instead of Kai Lung, our heroes are Yu Lu, commonly referred to as Number Ten Ox (to differentiate him from the eminent author of 'The Classic of Tea') and Li Kao, a great scholar with 'a slight flaw in his character.' Yu Lu plays the part of the brave, strong, and heroic youth. The perfect foil for Li Kao, who is sneaky, tricky and... Well, one of them has to be capable of quick thinking. Together they mount an impossible quest to save the lives of the children of Yu Lu's village. They have been treacherously poisoned by Ku poison, the only antidote for which is a 'Great Root of Power' (small drum roll).

Without hesitation our heroes head off into a completely mythical world, where they work schemes to steal the money they need to work the schemes that will yield up the magical ginseng. In doing so they must confront the incredibly gross Ancestress, who rules China from underneath, and the immensely greedy Duke of Ch'in. And bitter fate has arranged that the 'Great Root of Power' (yet another drum roll) has been cut into parts and spread about in fabulous treasuries, all guarded by awful monsters and inescapable traps.

Will they conquer the forces arrayed against them? Will they discover the real reason for everything that has happened to them? Will they find the heart of the 'Great Root of Power' (boom!) and save the children of Ku-fu? Of course, but how they do it will mystify and dazzle you. If Barry Hughart has borrowed a plot device from Ernest Bramah, he has made it uniquely his own. His language is slightly more modern, and he has traded some irony for sarcasm and slapstick, but the true magic, a fantasy world peopled by countless characters, each more gemlike than the last, set in a work that shines with equal magic. If you like well wrought, tongue in cheek fantasy, put 'Bridge of Birds' on the top of your reading list. And don't forget to look for the sequels.

This is truly an extraordinary book, every bit as good as most reviewers have found it. It is something between a fairy tale, a fantasy and an epic. The story has a timeless quality that would be amazing of itself, but even more impressively it serves as an introduction to Chinese myth. Astonishingly, this is the author's first book.

The characters are beautifully drawn. Even minor characters like Doctor Death, a Chinese alchemist who makes a brief appearance, is fully developed. The main characters - Number Ten Ox and Master Li - are as memorable as any characters in fantasy. All are lively, ironic and self-consistent.

The plot is a delightful rollercoaster ride, a quest within a quest, that will keep you guessing until the marvelous conclusion. It's a nearly flawless assemblage of many Chinese myths, some developed in depth and some only mentioned in passing. And much of it is Hughart's own invention.

The narrative is quite good, and Hughart does an especially good job of explaining literally dozens of instances of Chinese culture that will be completely new to most Western readers.

Some reviewers say they were put off by the story's many anachronisms. But Hughart doesn't pretend to be writing Chinese history or Chinese literature. Most readers don't know and don't care that events are out of sequence, or that myths have been distorted; those that do need to read the brief author's note that opens the book. I direct them specifically to the definition of "prolepsis" that appears there.

This is an absolutely terrific read. You don't need to know a thing about or even like Chinese myth or Chinese culture to delight in this tale. This is a delightful story that is exceptionally well told. Like any great work of fantasy, when you finish reading it, and have bowed with Number Ten Ox to the four corners of the world, the real world you return to will seem just a little dimmer than the brilliant vision Barry Hughart has created.

"Bridge of Birds" is the most effective, most moving fantasy novel I have read since John Crowley's "Engine Summer." Set in (to use the publisher's blurb) "an ancient China that never was," this is at least on the surface the tale of Number Ten Ox, a young man from a rural village who sets out with Master Li, a scholar and sage with "a slight flaw in his character," on a quest for the "great root of power," the only medicine of sufficient potency to cure the village children of a case of ku poisoning. As the story unfolds and these two characters experience adventures enough to fill many novels (one can imagine Tor or some other publisher spinning out these yarns by the tens a la Conan if they got a hold of the publishing rights), their quest begins to intertwine with another one, relating to an ancient wrong done to a goddess.

More details would be superfluous, for there is simply no substitute for reading this book. The culture and characters described here are fully realized (writers of doorstop-sized fantasy novels, such as Robert Jordan, could take object lessons from Hughart in how to tell a large story succinctly), and the overall atmosphere that this novel achieves is that of the finest kind of fable, although I would not necessarily recommend it for young children. Hughart spices his narrative throughout with a liberal dose of humor; I found myself laughing aloud many times as I read along. If there is a flaw to be found here, I failed to see it. This is as good as fantasy gets--one of the few novels that merits the adjective "magical."

I give 5 stars to this thing because I wrote it, and if you can think of a better reason let me know. Which is the point.People tell me they've had a horrible time getting an address, which isn't supposed to be secret, and anyone interested can try yrrab@spearnet.net and usually get a reply.

I read this book, first to myself, then aloud over a period of many nights to my wife, and I can't for the life of me figure out why it's such a well-kept secret.

I mean, it's very funny (I couldn't read some pages with a straight face) and it's also incredibly moving, emotionally (I couldn't read some pages without getting choked up). The legends are fascinating, the various characters that Number Ten Ox and Master Li come across are wonderful, the suspense of the quest to save the children is engrossing. It's what Fantasy should be, not just another dreadful tale about dwarves and elves and goblins and all that crap. It's like, the perfect book.

Maybe people are turned off by the whole China thing? A lot of Americans, anyway, can be pretty xenophobic, and they might think that they have to be Asian or be "into" Asian culture in order to enjoy this book. Wrong-o. Though, I guess the more you know, the more you'd appreciate the book as a (respectful) parody.

I bought it for a friend, who also read it aloud to his wife. The results? "That was a GREAT book!" they said.

Though, I loaned my copy to another friend, who only read the first three pages and said she couldn't get into it. So, I suppose it's not for everyone. But keep in mind that the book opens with a chapter of background before you get introduced to the real characters. I love it from word one, but I guess it was off-putting to her.

I don't know what else to say. This is one of the five best books I've ever read. You'll be happy you bought it.

When a mysterious plague strikes the children of the small village of Ku-Fu, the musclebound Number Ten Ox goes in search of help. He finds it in the form of the irrepressible centenarian Li Kao, one-time top scholar, con man, and the only investigator who is willing to take the case for its own sake. Master Li and Ox soon find their local mystery is the first step on a long winding road leading to the conclusion of an ancient, forgotten tale. The setting is a beautiful quasi-fictional adaptation of historical/mythical China, and Hughart's storytelling is superb. The book is both beautiful and sad, funny and intricately woven. Li Kao and Number Ten Ox are among the most compelling characters in print. Hughart has a true gift for storytelling, and it is a shame that only three Master Li mysteries have been published. Though all of his books are marvelous, the Bridge of Birds is Hughart's masterpiece. This is a work of art and one of my favorite three books of all time. Bravo, Mr. Hughart, and thank you for a truly wonderful creation.

Fantasy with a touch of humour is uncommon. There are two excellent writers who have carved a significant niche in the fantasy field. Terry Pratchett is one, and Barry Hughart the other. Both have inventive minds, produce wonderfully exotic places and introduce us to characters no "mainstream" author would dare venture. Where Pratchett creates new places, Hughart devises a time that "never was" in a real place - China. This story of an imaginary China has every exemplary feature in fantasy - mystery, adventure, romance. It adds to these formulaic items a cast even Hollywood would be pressed to match. And, in twenty years since this book was published, has notably failed to do so. Perhaps it's just as well, because Hughart's excellence in story and character would be hard to portray in Hollywood terms.

Hughart's tale of a quest to find a cure surpasses anything in the fantasy genre. A group of village children, limited in age range, has been struck down by a plague. "How can a plague count?" asks the local abbot. The children aren't dead, but in a coma. Perhaps a knowledgeable man would know of a cure. Lu Yu, "Number Ten Ox", the strong tenth son of a peasant, is sent to find such a sage. He turns up Li Kao, a venerable sage "with a slight flaw in his character". We think the "slight flaw" is his thirst for wine, but that proves too simple.

Number Ten Ox carries Li Kao to various places in China seeking the Great Root of Power - a ginseng root endowed with great curative traits. Along the way, the duo encounter the Ancestress, an immense woman of immense powers of her own. They deal with the mind-reading Duke of Ch'in, whose name was adopted by the West to describe all of China. Some lesser characters, Miser Chen, Henpecked Ho, and Doctor Death make their appearances, seemingly transitory. And Number Ten Ox falls in love. He adores the lady Lotus Cloud who has a bizarre preference for lovers that provide her with jade and pearls.

Through all the adventures, no few of which are more than life-threatening, Number Ten Ox carries the image of the suffering children in his mind. It would be simple for him to turn away from the memory of their sleeping figures, but Ox is true to the quest. So long as he maintains his desire to cure them, Li Kao is retained to help. But it's far from clear which is driving which, since the Venerable Sage has developed his own quest - what is the meaning of a child's game verse? How does it affect all of China? Li Kao's drive for answers readily equals Ox's search for a cure for the plague.

Hughart's stylistic quirks and sinuous plotting twists keeps this book a enchanting read. He places his protagonists in various quandaries, confronting them with dangers and delights. Li Kao's wine-sodden brain should leave him helpless, but he contrives to extricate the pair with penetrating analyses of each threat. At the end, when he must unravel the most fundamental mystery, what The Bridge of Birds is, he's more concerned with why he couldn't work out the solution sooner. But if he had, there wouldn't be a fine 278 page sequence to enjoy! [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

* with apologies and thanks to Janet Turner Hospital

I don't know exactly what it is that makes Bridge of Birds and its two sequels such enduring favourites of mine. I keep coming back to them again and again, and for someone who reads several books a week this is quite a commitment. I discovered them while working at Forbidden Planet in London, and read them while the customers could go to hell as far as I was concerned. Since then they've been one of my first ports of call whenever I'm tired or depressed. Literally they are like a breath of fresh air, reminding you in a few short paragraphs what's right with the world.

Bridge of Birds is the best of the three, in my opinion. It is the simplest in terms of plot, and you just can't beat the thrill of meeting the characters for the first time. Hughart's style evolved through the books, and I think that objectively (if one can say that about a book) he's a better writer by Eight Skilled Gentlemen - but Bridge of Birds shows the real feeling and humanity that goes into his storytelling. The story of Miser Shen and Ah Chen - listening to Miser Shen's speech about his daughter is genuinely moving in an understated way that is totally at odds with the usual histrionics of most modern fantasy. Ditto the madness of Doctor Death. Most writers are content to let their characters languish behind cliche, but Hughart is determined to show that behind everyone is a personality that is more complex than outward show would suggest - even fairly unimportant characters such as the merchant have hidden depths.

Most fantasy - in fact almost all of it - is devoid of wit, drama, character depth and humanity. It gives "escapism" a bad name. These books have all the above qualities which makes the fantastic elements of the stories that much more interesting. Reading Bridge of Birds gives one a similar feeling to reading The Lord Of The Rings - on a different scale - that thrill and sense of being part of the world, drawn in by characters as interesting and unpredictable as real people.

Buy these books if you ever get the opportunity. Your life will be richer thereby. Should we, as has been hinted by others here, start an active petition to get more of his work out there?

When the children of a village are accidentally poisoned, Number Ten Ox (a tenth son who is strong as an ox) sets out to buy information from a learned sage. He discovers that his 3000 copper coins do not go far and has to settle for Li Kao, a seer with "A slight flaw in his character." However, the irreverent and cynical Li is just what the doctor ordered, and the two set off on a quest for the "Great Root of Power."

The quest takes them through a fantasy China that resembles actual China in the same way as Tolkien's lands resemble Europe. For example, ghosts and gods are real and interact directly with living mortals, the wisest man in the world actually can make you immortal (and invulnerable), etc. This mystical backdrop is filled with fun and interesting characters - each one a fully-developed and unique individual. This is important, as the characters keep reappearing in what can only be called "directed coincidence."

There are scenes of bone-chilling violence (why do people insist it is suitable for children?), tender romance, sex, drugs, and if there is no rock 'n' roll, it's only because it hadn't been invented yet (we get a bell-chorus instead). In short, this book has it all, and the tale is told in a lyrical and very funny way that's sure to keep you entertained from page 1 to the end.

This is a wonderful and little-known novel. I had never heard of Barry Hughart until I picked up this book, and I would have never bought the book except for the fact there were blurbs in it from Ursula Le Guin and the Christian Science Monitor. Since this book was written in 1984, why, I wondered, had I never heard of the author? It's probably because he's written so few books and is so reclusive. Having said that, I am very glad I picked up this book. It's one of the funniest things I've ever read. There were times I started laughing and could not stop. Most of the humor is deadpan, although some of it is a bit too broad and forced for my taste. But that's very little. Overall the book is very, very good. Most of the novel has a light, magical touch, and the ending is wonderful and uplifting. In some ways it's not a novel, but a series of connected short stories around a common plot, that of a village whose children have fallen into comas through poisoning. The unlikely heroes are an enormously strong ox of a man and what appears to be a drunken wizard over 100 years ago (whose sign, outside his shop, is that of a half-closed eye with the lettering, "Part of the truth revealed. Some things I see, but other things I don't.") This is a book that should be better-known than it is. You'll like it, I guarantee.