by Eliot Pattison
It takes a certain boldness in an American author to set out to tell a story about a culture as exotic and troubled as that of Tibet, and to do so by way of the inherently American genre of the murder mystery. There are not a lot of novels that convincingly portray Tibet and its contemporary political situation under the rule of China. Pattison, who had a career in international law and therefore, no doubt, had much experience in China, also has an abiding interest in the fate of Tibetan culture. He uses the novel as a way of conveying that interest and, along the way and quite remarkably, painting a portrait of subtle interactions between individuals who are subject to complex political strictures, rules, corruptions, and struggles with encroaching globalization.
Our protagonist is Shan, a Chinese investigator who is nevertheless a prisoner in a Tibetan labor camp. It is never clear to us what he might have done to end up there, but we can be sure it was by angering men in power through otherwise ethical investigations. Shan's camp is the 404th, a road-building platoon of Tibetan prisoners, many of whom are monks and initiates from shuttered Buddhist monasteries. The men discover a headless corpse at a worksite. The body is dressed in Western clothing, but turns out to be the remains of someone much more problematic for the local officials. With the approach of American tourists and the drive to keep operations smooth, a local army officer, Colonel Tan, starts his own investigation into the murder, rather than waiting for Beijing to get around to it. This brings up the issue, of course, of the vagaries of Chinese justice, portrayed here as a teaching tool for socialist revolutionaries, and as a way of deferring guilt and covering up various corrupt activities among petty officials, all of whom consider Tibet the very worst in hardship postings. What ensues is more or less a conventional investigatory mystery novel. Like many of the genre, there are many dead ends, shady dealings and shifting allegiances and motives. What makes the book something special is the way Pattison sets this within the cultural landscape to which he is clearly so devoted. There are aged Buddhist monks in the prison camp. There are young modern Chinese officials enriching themselves while serving a Communist state. There are Chinese officers and one Chinese doctor who have hidden affinities for the oppressed Tibetan Buddhists. There is Yeshe, the young monk who was sent to China for an education, who yearns to be a part of the greater Chinese experiment, but learns where his place really lies in an unjust system of cultural domination. And there is a pair of Americans trying to run a boron mine in a hollow between stark mountains, whose brash American attitude clashes with the almost meditative pace of Shan's investigation. All of these and more are skillfully woven together. The realities of the role of monasteries in a socialist Tibet are portrayed with conviction. Some of Shan's travels across the mountains are less convincing, with unlikely coincidences and threads to the case, but this is typical of the genre. There is even a hint of a magical Shangri-la here that harks back to a more simplistic view of Tibet. Mostly, though, Pattison portrays a very complex and troubled cultural landscape in a convincing context. It is clearly his mission to instill compassion in his readers for the troubles of the Tibetans, but he also does this without completely demonizing the occupying Chinese. In that, his moral landscape is more subtle and beautifully realized than in many such books. Eventually, as in most mysteries, there is a fairly tidy closure to the case. But that's not the primary goal of this book. Shan's prospects are far more uncertain, and the rich landscape Pattison so thoughtfully mines beyond the Himalayas has much more to offer.
Also by Pattison: [Water Touching Stone]