An ancient Chinese saying proposes that the universe contains ten thousand things. The narrator of this eponymous, thought-provoking novel observes that “of all the complexities of the ten thousand things, the self-consciousness of man is ten thousand times the most complex.”

The narrator is Wang Meng, later recognized as a master painter of the final decades of the Yuan Dynasty, what Westerners would call the midfourtheenth century. Wang’s artistic gifts, however, are matched by his uncanny talent for playing a minor role in significant events, a journey that occupies this supposed memoir, written in prison during his last years. His career as artist and sometime civil servant correspond with (and take flight from) the political upheaval that brings the first Ming emperor to the throne. (The manner in which this dynastic founder seizes and employs power resembles the rise of Mao, by the way.)

The novel begins, though, with a small moment, a fruitless search for a jade ring, a coveted family heirloom. Typical of The Ten Thousand Things and its protagonist, the effort evokes deep feelings in Wang, which he examines for their justness and morality, but also in light of his love for life and beauty.

Many such small moments, rendered in prose that flows like the streams and waterfalls that Wang enjoys painting, yield fascinating, knotty musings on politics, war, justice, government, friendship, sex, art–many of the ten thousand things, in other words. Often, I had to look up from the book to ponder what I’d just read, and I came away admiring how Spurling has thought deeply about life.

Most of the narrative unfolds in first person, but sometimes in third, as if the editors of his memoirs were speaking, but it could as well be Wang himself, in his self-conscious complexity. Several times, other characters accuse him of being emotionally cautious, and outwardly, he is. But inside, he’s a boiling cauldron, and his struggle to manage that and do the right thing makes him human. At the same time, he’s always trying to improve as an artist and is terrified of allowing pride, laziness, or foolishness to hamper his vision, an internal conflict that speaks to me

Despite its philosophical nature, I find the narrative compelling and tense, and the pages turned quickly for me. I do think Spurling does himself or the reader no favors by occasional foreshadowings, like “he would never have believed that such-and-such could happen,” which to me only get in the way. But in any case, you have to be in the mood for a meander, not a gallop, and though the story grows, it’s not what you’d call a coherent, classic plot.

All told, a wonderful book. ( )

The poignant tale of an artist living in interesting times. If I were to use one word to describe this book it would be sublime. The detail of this historical novel alone is simply wonderful, but the story moves well too. The book also provides a stunning foray into how politics can relate to art. If we happen to be talented, must we compromise our art in order to live in the world? And if we are gifted, does what we do to be a part of the world interfere with our art and make us less productive? The book asks these and other questions, but does not come across as preachy or overly philosophical. This is a fascinating and lively look into a very personal China in the 1300s. ( )

[The Ten Thousand Things] follows the adult life of Wang Meng in China in the Yuan Dynasty in the 14th century. Wang Meng was a real historical figure, reckoned now to be one of the great artists in Chinese history and during his lifetime largely ignored, and many other characters in the novel are similarly real historical figures. The novel has no real plot, simply following Wang through life as he becomes more experienced, wiser and more knowing about the the state of China during this turbulent time, about other people and about himself. Neither sinner nor saint, you cannot help but like Wang; his humility, his wisdom, his desire to see the good wherever he can all make him shine from the page and make the reader see him as the 'hero' of the story.

Spurling's descriptions of Chinese art, both Wang's and that of other characters, I found only partly successful. Chinese art is too different from the Western tradition to easily describe and extract the cultural
and emotional resonances and tropes, to ascribe meaning. This is a thoughtful book - well written, easily read - making you think about the grander cycles of history as well as what it means to be a whole human being rubbing along against family, friends, strangers, enemies and the unfurling of events. ( )

3.5 rounded up to 4 ( )