This was a great book. Just finished it and enjoyed it very much. If you have any interest in kung fu or chinese culture, or just want to read some interesting non-fiction, give it a try. Highly recommended!

Trying to fix all the “things that are wrong with Matt”, Matthew Polly, a weedy Princeton junior from Kansas, sets out on something akin to a pilgrimage to the fabled home of Chinese martial arts, the Shaolin Monastery, not really knowing whether it exists or not. Ironic, since Shaolin monks were engaged in a tour of the United States while he was deliberating and two of them in fact turned defectors, which caused a high-profile international incident.

He arrives in Shaolin surprised to find it a curious combination of crass touristy capitalism and rigid communism and nationalism. A clear tourist trap cum training centre, with a myriad of martial arts schools almost all bearing some variant of the name “Shaolin Wushu School”. Desperate to find the “real” Shaolin he trails a young monk back from a video game arcade to the Shaolin Temple Wushu Centre, where he witnesses a wonderful display of martial prowess on the part of some robe-clad monks. He immediately signs up for lessons at the price of USD1300 a month – which he later finds is the “stupid laowai (foreigner)” price. Many months later he becomes the disciple of the future abbot Yongxin, apparently due to a combination of a hongbao and the prestige that having a laowai disciple would bring.

The first few days of training leave him begging for mercy, but eventually he gets the hang of things. Training grimly to show he can “eat bitter” like any of the others, Polly finally begins to show his mettle, winning several challenge matches and coming in second at a national wushu meet, second only to the reigning Chinese champion.

What I liked about the book were the discussions of what was really real and what was not at Shaolin. The communist upheaval had left Shaolin almost ruined, devoid of monks, and it was rebuilt almost solely to bring in tourist revenues after Jet Li’s wildly successful Shaolin movie in 1982. There were few “cultural” monks there and many more martial monks, for that was what brought in the tourists. No one wants to watch a monk meditating quietly for more than a few minutes, and certainly no one would pay very much. So there were few outward trappings of Buddhism at Shaolin, a fact which rather embarrasses Deqing, one of the monks who teaches Polly.

I was slightly disappointed by Polly’s airy narration of Shaolin history in 3 pages. I thought he might address whether Damo (or Bodhidharma, to give his Sanskrit name) truly brought martial arts to Shaolin or was simply a figure of myth, but he narrates it as straight fact. He does, however, debunk some myths, such as the last scene of David Carradine’s movie in which he passes his last test by branding a dragon on one forearm and a tiger on the other. The monks are dismissive of this: “Why would we want to burn our arms like that? You might end up a cripple, never be able to make a fist again in your life. What kind of kungfu test would that be?”

Another interesting myth – confirmed, this time – is iron crotch kungfu. Yup, apparently it exists. Not only does it exist, but Polly spells out the painful preparations that have to be practised year after year in order to develop such a thing. Also interesting are Polly’s accounts of his fights and how he uses calculating brainpower to overcome even polished martial arts masters.

Other than that, there are detailed portraits of those people Polly grew closest to, particularly his martial arts masters and the monks. Plus the deranged, spiritual seekers who occasionally grace Shaolin to boost their New Age resumes. The whole book is well-written, with a puerile yet nevertheless amusing humour. And the insight into the swift changes that are taking place in Chinese society, and the interactions between the completely different worldviews of a Kansan and Chinese peasant stock, are enlightening.

Some quotes:

Shaolin styles:
“Shaolin kungfu has eighteen different official weapons, but there are forms for more. Shaolin has five main animal styles – tiger, leopard, eagle, snake and praying mantis – but there are more. It is estimated that Shaolin has more than 200 open-hand forms, but no one has been able to record them all. Historians of martial arts explain the creation of all of these styles either for self-defense (Shaolin was an isolated monastery often attacked by bandits) or religious reasons (kungfu forms are a type of moving meditation), but that doesn’t explain the complexity. It took me all of a week to come up with my own theory: boredom. Put a bunch of sexually repressed young men on a mountaintop with nothing to do but meditate and practice kungfu and the myriad of Shaolin styles is the result.” (p. 91)

Martial arts and Buddhism:
“Kungfu had started as physical exercises meant to help the monks focus on their sitting meditation. [Really? That’s the official story of Damo, perhaps. But more likely the kungfu had simply started as a method of self-defence.] Now sitting meditation was used to help the monks focus on their kungfu. The evolution was complete. I had come to Shaolin interested in both Buddhism and kungfu, but it was obvious to me now that at Shaolin they were one and the same. Kungfu practice was the way they practiced Buddhism – the traditional forms were a kind of moving meditation….” (p. 138)

Lightness kungfu:
“And after a while, he’d start showing off his prowess at kungfu. An expert in lightness kungfu, he’d run up and across the wall like Spider-Man – four, five, six steps before gravity finally reclaimed him.” (pp 115-6)