In Chinese love stories the one who loves always starts by borrowing a book from the beloved.
Sijie DaiI was carried away, swept along by the mighty stream of words pouring from the hundreds of pages. To me it was the ultimate book: once you had read it, neither your own life nor the world you lived in would ever look the same.
Sijie DaiWithout him (Jean-Christophe) I would never have understood the splendour of taking free andindependent action as an individual. Up until this stolen encounter with brains had been incapable of graspingthe notion of one man standing up against the whole world...................To me it was the ultimate book: once youhad read it, neither your own life nor the world you lived in would ever look the same.
Sijie DaiIt would evidently take more than a political regime, more than dire poverty to stop a woman from wanting to be well-dressed: it was a desire as old as the world, as old as the desire for children.
Sijie DaiA name with a gently exotic ring to it, like birdsong, like a grain of sand in the far-off Gobi Desert or the northern steppes, whipped up by the wind, carried by storms, swirling through the sky, travelling, crossing whole countries without knowing quite how, and ending up in the crook of my ear.
Sijie Dai