Q&A: China's Answer to Georges Simenon?

As modern China's profile rises, so too does the stock of literature from and about it. But Shanghai-born Qiu Xiaolong's Inspector Chen detective series is one of the freshest and most unpredictable of the lot. He is deft at delivering clever insights and plot twists that entangle both Communist Party officials and their critics. His protagonist, Chief Inspector Chen Cao of the Shanghai Police Bureau, tracks down murderers and cheats against the backdrop of ordinary folks struggling to reconcile social upheaval and their lingering nostalgia for Chairman Mao. An honest cop whose personal ethics often conflict with the politically expedient orders from above, Chen embodies the confusion—both ideological and spiritual—that haunts modern China. When the detective gets stuck, he finds inspiration and comfort in hearty food and Chinese classical poetry.

Qiu, 52, began his crime writing career after moving to the United States in 1988 to attend Washington University in St. Louis on a grant. A few months later, China's leaders crushed a democratic uprising in the heart of Beijing, leaving Qiu an exile. "Tiananmen changed all my plans," he says. "I felt I [could] not write what I really wanted to write in Chinese." So he wrote his debut novel "Death of a Red Heroine" in English, introducing the protagonist Inspector Chen. It won the 2001 Anthony Prize for Best First Mystery Novel and was translated into 10 languages, including Chinese; the Wall Street Journal recently named it one of five "best political novels." Qiu, who visits Shanghai frequently, has also published a collection of his English-language poems, a translation of classical Chinese love poems and three Chen sequels. Newsweek's Barbara Koh spoke with him on the phone just before the November release of the latest Chen installment, "A Case of Two Cities." Excerpts:

NEWSWEEK: Corruption is a central theme in "A Case of Two Cities." That's timely given the spate of investigations now underway in China.

Qiu: I'm not a fortuneteller. Corruption has been going on for such a long time and at such a large scale [that] you have to touch on it if you want to write about China. In the book, whether [the source is] the one-party system, the culture or, as people say, "absolute power will lead to absolute corruption," Inspector [Chen] does not have the answer. But he thinks about it.

To what extent is "Two Cities" based on reality?

A lot of details are real. In recent years, so many corrupt officials have fled China with so much money; they settle down in the US, Canada. Everybody knows the money they have is not their own. In my book, one such corrupt official leaves China, but with his connections [back home] he still can live a wealthy and corrupt life. Some [mainland Chinese who] come to the U.S., even to St. Louis, buy million-dollar houses with cash. They never talk about mortgages. Some are even students. You can imagine the types of situations [their parents] are in to make that kind of money.

What's your opinion of the current anticorruption drive? Analysts say President Hu Jintao is simply eliminating potential rivals.

That's the same problem for the chief inspector. On one hand, he thinks at least some corrupt party officials get punished and get what they deserve. But on the other hand, he can never tell whether this kind of campaign is motivated for some other reason. You can never draw a clear line. Things can be so ironical. Like Shanghai's former party boss: One day he is still the absolute power, he appears here and there talking about fighting corruption. The next day he's exposed, he's bad; he has this problem, that problem. Can people believe it? Some of this has to do with the one-party system and media control, [but] things are much better compared [to] during the Cultural Revolution. At least people can complain in the streets about things that are bad.

Your other Inspector Chen novels refer a lot to the Cultural Revolution and its legacies. Why?

For my generation—the people who lived through the Cultural Revolution—it definitely is part of the present. A lot of young people believed in Chairman Mao or the party propaganda, in communism, but [afterward they were] totally disillusioned because of the cultural revolution. People still paid lip service to all that but didn't really believe it. Now they just look to money. They have no other faith, no other values. To some extent that explains why so many party officials take bribes and become corrupt. During the Cultural Revolution, I wrote [my father's] self-criticism because he was too sick. "I exploited working-class people to make money for myself," blah, blah, blah… Nowadays if you're a business owner, you're fashionable, you're good; but during the Cultural Revolution, that was a crime.

Your three previous novels were translated and published in China, though heavily censored. Is a China edition of Two Cities in the works?

Not yet. I'm not happy with the first three translations. They changed "Shanghai" to "H-City"—they don't want the books to be exactly about Shanghai. I resisted because Shanghai means such a lot to me, but I know these editors are my friends. They have to worry about their jobs, and I really [didn't] want to get them into trouble.

"H-City" sounds bizarre.

With "Two Cities," I don't know how I can keep Shanghai out of the picture. I don't want a book that's half a book with all the [key] passages deleted. Maybe I can have it translated into Chinese in Hong Kong or Taiwan without this kind of censorship, and then try to find a publisher on the mainland.

What struck you most during your latest Shanghai visit?

There's more and more new housing. I don't know whether this is good or bad. At the same time, the gap between rich and poor is getting worse and worse. Some new apartments now are more than 20,000 yuan [$2,500] a square meter. I don't know how ordinary Shanghai people can afford that. Also, it was so hot. I've never had such a hot summer in [Shanghai]. Maybe it's the pollution. And the traffic is worse.

What about the culture?

I used to think that with more freedom people should write better books. But nowadays a lot of books are so poorly done, just for the sake of money. Books about how to make money, how to enjoy life. You hardly find any serious literature or philosophy. I used to have so many friends that were writers, but more than half are now doing business or something else. They've lost their dreams about literature, about poetry. I'm not trying to judge them, but to me that's a pity. Sometimes they'll say, "Wow, you live in the U.S., why don't you do business? What's the point of writing books? You don't make much money writing books." What can I say?

What's your prognosis for China?

Materialistically, things will keep going. But I'm a little bit worried about the spiritual, about values and idealism. People only care about name brands, a big apartment, a new car. And people in power care only about their own interests. Shanghai is full of change. Every time I come back, something's new—sometimes better, sometimes worse, like corruption. It always gives me something to write about.