VHO CAN say that he really the Shanghai, particularly if he saw it-as I did-only in the last frenetic 18 months before the Communists took over? We used to say: is not a place but a state of If it was true then, it is infinitely more true today, when the city no longer exists as an objective referrent, but only as a subjective state of mind. You should have been there in the Shanghai was great. Every China hand knew that things had gone down hill since the good days. It made no difference when one had lived there. It was always the good that he lamented with a nostalgia that was all the more exquisite because it expressed a sense of fraternity with a favored elite who could share it, while excluding the benighted millions who could not. Like the flu, that interbellum malady isolated by Arthur Koestler, the Sino-syndrome had definite physiological symptoms-an asymmetrical twist in the corners of the mouth, a salacious squint in the eyes, followed by a distant ocular vacuity and even an incipient lachrymose weakness-when touched by specific stimuli such as mention of the Bund, the Glen Line Building, the Soochow Creek Bridge, Bubbling Well Road, the Race Course, the legendary Metropole, Sassoons, the lion's paw at the Hong Kong-Shanghai Bank, the cantilevered dance-floor at the French Club, Hungjao, Monk's Brass Bar, or Blood Alley. In 1947, the old China hand remembered the 1941 Japanese takeover. In 1940, he recalled the sinking of the Panay; in 1935, he looked back fondly to the days before the Marco Polo Bridge incident and Henry Pu-yi; then back to the Kuomintang in 1927; and there are still a few who remember the really, truly before the
Read full abstract