Rickshaw Boy, by Lao She 

Translated by Howard Goldblatt

(1937, translated 2010)

Harper Perennial

(Novel)

Rickshaw Boy is a classic character study and a critique of the cruel poverty that ground down the poor in Beiping of the 1930s. “Camel” Xiangzi is a young, handsome, and strong orphan who determines that his best chance of getting ahead in life is to leave the countryside and become a rickshaw puller in the big city. Like Horatio Alger’s “Ragged Dick,” Xiangzi is determined to make it on his own. Tireless, honest, and chaste, he devotes himself to his work. He first rents a rickshaw, then buys one, finds himself a series of regular fares, and secures himself protection under the auspices of the Fourth Master Liu in the famed Harmony Shed. As dedicated and determined as he is, fate only rewards him with a slew of personal catastrophes. Soldiers abduct him, enslaving him and appropriating the pride of his dreams, a new rickshaw; a corrupt government agent masquerading as an undercover policeman runs off with his savings, and he almost dies of various illnesses. Though he realizes early that a rickshaw man can not afford love, a wife, or a family, a dragon of a woman seduces him, and feigning pregnancy, coerces him into a loveless and humiliating marriage. He abandons his positive outlook and his principles and becomes a cheater a thief, and a drunk. Throughout, Lao makes it clear that the city and the nation have no regard for the laboring class, paying them no more respect than animals, acknowledging neither their lives nor their deaths. As dark as the story is, it is full of unforgettable characters. Villains and villainesses abound, but there are good souls as well that continue to think of Xiangzi and make every effort to give him shelter. Lao portrays the world of the poor with rare insight and understanding, and he also paints the city of Beiping, its seasons, and its extreme weather in vivid and evocative prose.

“After briefly examining himself, he turned to look at his camels. They were as sorry-looking as he, and as wonderful. They were molting, pinkish-gray skin showing through in clumps, the sloughed-off hide hanging from parts of their bodies; pulling it off would have required little effort. They looked like big, lumbering beggars. The long necks were the most wretched-looking: long, hairless, curved, un-graceful, stretched out in front like frustrated dragons. But Xiangzi did not find them disgusting, no matter how disreputable they might appear. They were, after all, living creatures. He was, he felt, the luckiest man alive, for the heavens had sent him three treasures that he could swap for a rickshaw. Things like that did not happen every day. He laughed out loud.” (30)