Customer Reviews

Iron and Silk

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In 30 short anecdotes, Mark Salzman gives a compassionate and humorous account of teaching English and studying martial arts in Changsha, a provincial capital in central China shortly after the opening of the country in the early 1980s. Changsha has the reputation that "there is nothing to do, nothing to buy, the people have no manners, the food is terrible and their dialect sounds awful" - so the book might have become very different from what it is: insightful, very funny, and full of respect for the often strange customs of traditional Chinese culture. In the best manner of innocents abroad, Mark Salzman knows how to make fun of his blunders in a very charming way. He conveys his sense of wonder beautifully, and does not pass judgment on anything he witnesses. Unlike many other authors who write about China, he is able to appreciate traditional Chinese forms of expression and self-mastery like martial arts (wushu) and calligraphy on their own terms. In his anecdotes he catches the essence of these arts: dedication, commitment, respect. "No matter what the quality of brush or paper," explains his calligraphy teacher, "one should always treat them as if they were priceless."

What Mark Salzman wrote about China some 15 years ago is not dated in many ways. Strange ideas are still being trumpeted as truths, and bureaucrats still like to harass foreigners (although humiliating unwitting foreigners is not "something of a popular sport in China" anymore; today it may even happen that a young female police officer at a police station first lectures you for half an hour on a minor transgression, but asks you out for a date right after she is finished).

Mark Salzman has a wonderful, gentle humor, and an admirable open-mindedness. He combines both to focus not on the ignorance of the people he meets, but on the insight which even ignorance can produce. There is no doubt that one little Chinese boy has no idea about the real Hong Kong, but being asked what he knew about this city, he answers "It's a big department store, isn't it?" Finally, let me say that I have never heard or read of a more charming and polite way of telling a Westerner that he has a big nose than in Mark Salzman's gem of a book: "You have a very three-dimensional face."

As a Chinese, I read Iron And Silk and am amazed at how much Mark got into the soul of the ordinary Chinese people. Written in simple, elegant language, there were so many enchanting anecdotes in the short-story-like segments, that it moved me to find an American knowing so much about China. As a naturalized American, now raising my children in the U.S., I have seen books such as Joy Luck Club on the reading lists of my children's high school English classes. It disturbs me that Joy Luck Club really presents a psudo, stereotypical China. I hope high school English teachers will take a look at this book, and include Iron And Silk in the reading lists for their students. I want my children to read good books that tell about a real China. In my opinion this book is much better than Joy Luck Club for high school education. The back cover of this book tells me Mark Salzman graduated Phi Beta Kappa, Summa Cum Laude from Yale in 1982 with a degree in Chinese Language and Literature. This book is much more than a martial arts book. While it is fun to read as a series of short stories on an American martial arts student's journey in China, it really teaches so much about how the Chinese society is. I highly recommend it for high school reading lists.

When this book first appeared, I used it in an urban adult ESL class that was full of immigrants of all ages from China. They enjoyed it and occasionaly argued about parts. Then, a wonderful thing happened. Salzman was in town and agreed to visit our class. What a dear, sweet, and entertaining person he was--speaking in Cantonese, Mandarin, and English--keeping the students laughing for a couple of hours. He also appeared in a public talk with a very different kind of audience--and kept it just as fully entertained.
When the movie of the book came out, and Salzman played himself, I thought it was a bit much, but I can't deny his acting skill.
In answer to questions in the "review" of Lemas Mitchell (see below):
1. Unresolved characters: Who was the girl with whom he took a bike ride? Is this the one that later became his wife?
----Yes, that -was- unresolved, and we asked him about it. He was reticent, even shy about saying more.
He married a California Chinese-American woman, not the woman on the bike. His wife has been an award-winning independent film-maker.
2. Overly-romantic view of some Chinese cultural habits that would consider inappropriate:
----This was humor.
3. Self absorption: Was he really a kung-fu master? Was it all in his own head? Was his Chinese really that good after an undergraduate degree?
----He never said he was a master; rather, he had a master as a teacher. His study of martial arts was what led him into Chinese studies in the first place. Yes, his skill in the language(s) was good. Chinese literature was, I believe, his major at Yale, from which he graduated with honors.
----
I'm here reading reviews because I'm thinking of using the book again with college level ESL students and wanted to check out the current attitudes.

Mark Salzman managed to convey the essence of the Chinese political system and the manner that the basic culture and manners have survived its attempts to remake it. Salzman is able to do this by first exposing his own personal traits, his obsessive need to "keep moving" in order to avoid worries and other aspects of solitude and an unoccupied mind. His quests to learn martial arts, caligraphy and Chinese art and customs were also opportunities to discover the 'hidden' China, the secrets that the people must whisper to avoid waking the dragon of a system and censorship. He met an embittered sculptor whose most valued possession was an old postcard of Michaelangelo's David. He ate in Chinese households, his bowl constantly full, while the children and uncles waited their turn; the leftovers to be distributed when he had finished. Hospitality, respect, the obligation of children to their parents have remained essentially in tact, despite the often absurd connivances of the revolutionary government.

For high school students, Salzman manages to distil the history of the cultural revolution, the falacies that are emitted from a highly controlled media and that are part of a repressive and unsympathetic government that led, ironically, to Tienneman Square, the day after, the author flew home. While the government forbade Salzman any more practice time in the specialized martial arts, the people continued to train and honor him. We find repeatedly that these people retain a deep and profound interest in foreigners and especially Americans. That the Chinese looked down upon dark skinned people was easily established when a Sudanese told his tale of a black man living in that enormous country. The best history, is validated by the voice of the people and this book is an exquisite example of the show don't tell maxim. His friendship with Pan, a famed and dying master of the martial arts, is an unlikely and rare sign of hope in a world where the people and not the police states or ideologies prevail.

My flatmate was reading this book and I read a bit of it when he wasn't home. I had to keep reading it, so did our other flat mate. The three of us were taking turns to read it at the same time. My flatmates are going to China to teach English, I am interested in martial arts. This book makes you want to go to China to teach English and learn martial arts.

This novel is easy to read, funny in parts and discusses some of the political problems that face foreigners in China. The author shares his experiences with the special police when trying to travel with friends, and explains how the police tried to stop famous martial art instructors from teaching him. Salzman also intrigues you with his many different martial art instructors and the styles he learnt, coupled with Chinese calligraphy.

A must read, wonderful book.

This book is an account of the two years Mark Salzman spent as an English teacher at the Hunan Medical College. Salzman arrived in Hunan Province in 1982, fresh from Yale, where he had graduated with a degree in Chinese literature. He took with him his cello and his experience studying Chinese martial arts. Salzman was an ideal American emissary- -he brought his youthful yet serious enthusiasm to the classroom, and forged ties with the local populace through sharing his skills and interests. Once he even consented to attempt to tune a piano for his supervisor, his only qualification for the task being that he was familiar with the sound of well-tuned pianos back home. He befriended local fishermen and shared his art and music with them, but he also got to know Chinese grad students and professors through his interest in calligraphy and Chinese language.

Foremost in his interests was martial arts. Before arriving in China, Salzman had studied Chinese martial arts for 9 years. He hoped to find a teacher of martial arts, or wushu, so that he could continue his practice while in Hunan. Because of his openness to meet others and because of his language skills, he eventually met and studied with some remarkably skilled wushu teachers in Hunan, including Pan Qingfu, perhaps the most renowned living practitioner of Chinese martial arts in the world. Much of Salzman's account is a record of how he met these teachers, and how they helped him develop his skill, each in his own particular way and style.

Salzman's interest in calligraphy and martial arts opened doors for him that otherwise may never have appeared. Practicing calligraphy and wushu gave him the excuse for meeting Chinese citizens with similar interests, and for them to seek him out. But Salzman points out the ethical dark side of pursuing these interests as a foreigner. Salzman is very aware of the fact that, while he has studied martial arts for 9 years, no matter how seriously he had applied himself, he had practiced only on a hobby basis, a background to his academic and professional pursuits. On a Chinese scale, his 9 years of part-time study would barely constitute dallying with the sport. Yet because he was a foreigner who seemed to demonstrate such a serious degree of interest in the topic, he had access to the very best teachers, famous superstars that few Chinese wushu students could every dream of meeting. This is not meant to criticize Salzman, as he himself pointed out several times how distressed he was when his teachers would ignore their Chinese students so as to focus on his personal needs. Situations where an interested Westerner is given attention by experts that far exceeds that merited by their skills are unfortunately, quite common. Indeed, many Western musicians of very average talent manage to be accepted as students by famous classical Indian musicians, who may be fascinated by a Westerner who seems seriously interested in Asian music, or who may simply think that having Western students will somehow add to their prestige. I, myself, have benefited from such circumstances while studying Indian music, finding that my teachers give me extra attention or praise that is merited only by the color of my passport. What is remarkable about this book is how much Salzman is aware of this conundrum as he sees it playing out, and how he shows maturity in trying to address the situation both with humility and devotion to his art.

For academic types who haven't yet overdosed on Foucault or Pennycook, this book is well worth a read. Salzman shows his love for China and Chinese culture despite all its warts. If you've shied away from this book because some misinformed postcolonialist told you it was neocolonial, read the book and judge for yourself. I think you will find it charming, for its vivid description, its unconcealed enthusiasm, its honesty (e.g. Salzman admits to having little interest in going to China despite majoring in Chinese studies at Yale), its self-deprecating humor, and above all its lack of cynicism. It's an autobiographical narrative, not a critical (re: neo-Marxist) treatise and should be taken as such. The author is aware of how much his own misunderstanding and discomfort may be the result of cultural difference and he is quick to see the essence of good intentions in most of the Chinese he encounters. So, again, read with an open mind and don't allow yourself to be dissuaded by those in critical applied linguistics who couldn't match this artistic effort themselves but feel free to leap to unfair conclusions about the author's intent.

To be a well-rounded Sensei, I must continually grow in knowledge as well as technique. To that end, I've been reading a number of books about the martial arts. One part of that genre are the autobiographical accounts of Budo practitioners. I want to gain deeper insight through what others have experienced, learned, and how they changed as a result of martial arts training. "Iron and Silk" is one such tale, written by a man who studied Kung Fu in the USA during the 70s and Wushu in China during the 80s. At a young age, Mark Salzman developed a deep appreciation for Chinese culture, martial arts included (as documented in his other fine non-fiction book "Lost in Place"). "Iron and Silk" chronicles Mr. Salzman's adventures during a two-year stint as an English teacher in China. This book is an easy and fun read, a testament to Mr. Salzman's excellent, flowing writing style and storytelling ability.

Mark Salzman is probably one of the most unique and resourceful contemporary individuals I've had the pleasure to read about. He's always ready to try something new, or step out and build relationships with total strangers. Even during adolescence, his passion for learning, combined with a good work ethic, created many possibilities. His youthful fascination with Chinese culture led to acceptance at Yale, where he majored in Chinese literature. While there, he mastered Mandarin Chinese, which opened a unique door. Despite his obsession with all things Chinese, he had no desire to see China. But in his words, he "did need a job," so he applied for and got a position teaching English at Hunan Medical College in Changsha. Funny how great experiences can come from such pragmatic decisions.

I should state that Mr. Salzman has a somewhat different perspective on the martial arts compared to, say, C.W. Nicol or Robert Twigger. Yes, he shares their fascination with the Budo. But instead of being an all-consuming focus, the fighting arts are just one part of Mr. Salzman's multifaceted life. I wouldn't call him a dilettante, but he didn't seem to have the same level of passion towards the martial Way that the other two men possessed. For example, Mr. Salzman obtains Wushu tutelage from some talented (and even famous) Chinese instructors. However, he isn't on a quest to tame his inner rage (Sensei Nicol), prove himself as a man (Mr. Twigger), or even earn a black belt. Mr. Salzman appears to already possess a solid sense of self, so Wushu is merely another interest. Instead of being a high-stakes means to an urgently desired end, Wushu is one of many activities he enjoys and learns from, like playing the cello, learning Chinese calligraphy, and simply getting to know the Chinese themselves. If I had any issue with "Iron and Silk," it was the absence of any overt character flaws on the part of Mr. Salzman, along with his ability to do just about everything well. Indeed, the Chinese nicknamed him "Huoshenxian" - an immortal in human form - because he was so "different," and made people happy all of the time. I guess I wish I was more like him, or at least knew more people created in his mold.

At any rate, the implied benefit of being centered and having an eclectic approach to life is a running theme in "Iron and Silk." Along those lines, it's more Chinese travelogue than serious immersion into martial arts study. Travel gets me out of my normal introverted shell, and Mr. Salzman's adventures remind me how much I enjoy that practice. He built many interesting relationships just by being open to possibility and respectful towards the various Chinese he encountered. Of course, the Communist government during that period was somewhat of an obstacle, but in most cases he was able to get around them quite nicely, often in a humorous and good-natured manner.

I read "Iron and Silk" in conjunction with "Angry White Pyjamas" by Robert Twigger and "Moving Zen" by C.W. Nicol to get multiple perspectives on martial arts training. It's interesting to compare and contrast Mr. Salzman's 70s and 80s presuppositions and experiences with those of Sensei Nicol in the early 60s and Mr Twigger in the 90s. Each book is a fascinating snapshot of a particular era, culture, and martial art style (Wushu, Aikido, and Karate). But despite their different philosophies, motivations, and levels of immersion, all of these men achieved personal growth and maturation through persevering within the martial arts. I found that to be inspiring, and so I recommend all three books (along with "Lost in Place" for insight into Mr. Salzman's formative years).

Mark Salzman's adventures while teaching English as a second language to medical students in rural China are retold with remarkable detail. Each tale reads like a proverb of right living. Salzman's writing is a testament to the many lessons he learned from the special relationships he developed behind the cold wall of communism and socialism. In Iron & Silk westerners catch a glimpse of the real people of China.

This is more than a book of travel adventures, it is a spiritual journey of one man's search for meaning in the ordinary, only to find that the ordinary is often what makes life extraordinary. Here East meets West on the playing field of daily living, with the West always looking outward for more, while the East focuses more inwardly. In Iron & Silk the reader is able to understand the adage, less is more. After finishing the book I found myself wanting more, nonetheless.

Here is a story that will charm and captivate you. A young American, who has been fascinated by and studied Chinese martial arts and the Chinese language, goes to China to teach English and discover what the country and its people have to teach him. Like all foreigners, he encounters roadblocks - the officials who invent regulations, the unwanted attention whenever he goes anywhere in public, the demands on his time and attempts to control his behavior - but Salzman does little more than mention these annoyances. His real story has to do with how the Chinese respond to his curiosity and desire to learn while he is in their country.

One by one teachers appear and agree to take him under their wings. There is a Chinese literature teacher, a calligraphy master, and most important of all a series of wushu (martial arts) instructors, each with a different view of and approach to his discipline. In addition, you will be treated to Salzman's amusing and occasionally deeply touching moments of interaction with people of all kinds. There are the fishermen who try to persuade him to live with them on their boats, his extraordinarily shy medical students, the scholar who translates English books into Chinese, and the young 11-year old boy who has run away from home. From each encounter Salzman comes away with a gem of insight, a hilarious story to tell or a puzzling problem to ponder. By the time to book comes to a close you too will have come to appreciate and marvel at the diversity and depth of the Chinese people.