Hey, folks! I just finished exploring China for my 2025 Read Around the World challenge (my last post was about Hungarian literature). For this stop, I decided to read a novel and some folk tales to get a broader sense of the culture.

Brothers, by Da Chen – my first chinese novel.

For the novel, I picked up Brothers by Da Chen completely by chance—I saw it in a bookstore, knew nothing about it, and decided to give it a shot. Honestly, that’s been one of the best parts of this challenge so far. The book turned out to be an epic story set in 20th-century China, following the lives of two half-brothers, Tan and Shento, who don’t even know about each other but are still deeply connected by fate.

Shento, the illegitimate son of a high-ranking Communist official, grows up in poverty and faces a lot of hardship, while Tan, the legitimate heir, is raised to become a leader. After their father dies during political purges, their lives take completely different directions, leading to a dramatic and tragic confrontation. The novel explores themes like ambition, betrayal, and how political chaos can tear families apart.

One of the things that really stood out to me was how the story deals with duality—like destiny vs. free will, harmony vs. destruction, and love vs. tragedy. Social status and family origins play a massive role in shaping who the characters become, making their actions and fates feel almost inevitable. Interestingly, the focus on dualities and the importance of work culture and social status seems to come up a lot in other Chinese works I've read or looked into—way more than in books from non-Asian countries.

Da Chen's writing is a mix of beautiful, poetic descriptions and straightforward, precise action. He switches between the perspectives of Tan, Shento, and other characters, which keeps the story fresh and builds suspense as you wait for the brothers' paths to cross.

The book also reminded me a lot of The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas with its themes of power, revenge, and the heavy cost of ambition. Both stories show how chasing power can end up isolating you and stripping away what really matters.

Another interesting aspect was how the novel explores sexuality and power, especially with the context of traditional and Communist-era Chinese values. The way female characters are treated exposes a lot of the hypocrisy and double standards of that time.

Overall, Brothers left me curious about Buddhism since it comes up a lot in the story – and I'm currently reading about it.

Chinese Folk Tales: Han, Tibetan, and Zhuang

After finishing Brothers, I found an old book of Chinese folk tales that had been gathering dust on my shelf and decided to dive in. Folk tales are such a cool way to understand different cultures’ values and beliefs, so it seemed like the perfect follow-up. The book includes Han, Tibetan, and Zhuang tales, and each of them has its own unique way of storytelling and teaching lessons.

Han folk tales tend to be pretty straightforward and sometimes even a bit violent in how they deliver moral lessons. Wrongdoers get punished swiftly, and the endings are usually clear-cut. This approach might have a lot to do with the strict social and moral rules of the Han dynasty, like those in Confucianism and Legalism. Because these stories focus so much on obvious lessons, they can sometimes feel more like lectures than engaging tales.

Tibetan folk tales take a totally different approach. Even when they deal with dark themes like death or cruelty, they often use humor and absurdity to soften the blow. The exaggerated, almost comedic tone makes the lessons more memorable and a lot more fun to read. This style fits really well with Buddhist ideas about compassion, karma, and personal growth. Instead of just punishing characters for doing bad things, these stories show them learning from their mistakes, which makes the messages feel more relatable and meaningful.

Zhuang folk tales have a different vibe altogether. They focus a lot on logic and humility, usually showing how arrogance or poor judgment leads to trouble. The cause-and-effect style of these stories makes the lessons feel practical and down-to-earth. This might reflect the Zhuang people's historically agrarian lifestyle, where making smart decisions and working together were really important.

Comparing these three types of tales made me realize that the way a story delivers its message is just as important as the message itself. The Han stories, with their predictable endings, didn’t leave as strong an impact as the humor and relatability of the Tibetan and Zhuang tales. It really shows that a bit of creativity and flexibility can make moral lessons stick with you longer.

So that’s it for my China stop! Next up, I might dive into some German literature—possibly Siddhartha—to keep the Buddhism theme going. As always, I’m open to comments, so feel free to drop your favorites, share your thoughts, or let me know if you’ve read any Chinese books! German literature suggestions are also more than welcome.