Contemporary Chinese Studies series. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2013. x, 298 pp. (Figures.) US$32.95, paper. ISBN 978-07748-2429-3.
In Intoxicating Manchuria: Alcohol, Opium, and Culture in China’s Northeast, Norman Smith treats the reader to a rich analysis of the roles played both by alcohol and opium in northeast China between the late nineteenth century and 1945. His study aims to examine how “recreational intoxicant consumption was understood and characterized in the first half of the twentieth century,” especially amidst the half-hearted efforts at prohibition by the state of Manchukuo during the 1940s (2). In eight chapters, Smith illustrates very vividly that both alcohol and opium have indeed had deep and substantial impacts on northeastern Chinese life and culture, and that throughout the period under investigation, the dependency of successive regimes on the opium trade ensured its continuity. Through a wide variety of media and literature, including alcohol advertisements, government propaganda, and contemporary Chinese fiction, Intoxicating Manchuria explores a wide array of alcohol and opium narratives, few of which ended happily.
In chapter 1, Smith grounds his later examination of alcohol’s impact in northeast China with a swift and convincing illustration of the historical evidence for alcohol consumption by Chinese since the Xia Dynasty (2070-1600 BCE). From the exploits of the earliest kings to the writings of dozens of later poets and chroniclers to the discoveries of modern archaeologists, Smith demonstrates convincingly that “the intoxicant industries of China today have important precedents in Chinese history” (21). The steady stream of eye-opening references to alcohol consumption throughout China’s imperial history shreds the oft-held belief that alcohol consumption has not played a meaningful cultural role. Likewise, Smith asserts that for most of its history, opium was also accepted and used as a medicine, rather than recreationally, and that while it was not used as widely as was alcohol, it too was culturally important. Smith’s approach here parallels Bret Hinsch’s masterful challenge to the ridiculous assertion that there is no such thing as a Chinese homosexual, which Hinsch destroyed so completely in The Passions of the Cut-Sleeve: The Male Homosexual Tradition in China (University of California Press, 1990).
Chapter 2 sets the stage for alcohol and opium sale and use in Manchuria during the first few decades of the twentieth century, detailing the region’s transition from a Qing-era Manchu homeland, to a local warlord redoubt in the 1920s, to a Japanese-controlled narco state by the 1930s and 1940s. Smith’s third chapter discusses alcohol use in Manchukuo, which was often viewed positively during the early 1930s, but was increasingly criticized by the middle of the decade as newspapers, essays and popular writers warned of the dangers of intoxicants, especially for women (64). Smith closes the chapter by noting that “in the short span of a decade, alcohol had shifted from a marker of modernity to a symbol of disease, disorder, and a society on the edge of collapse” (69). He then turns in chapter 4 to an analysis of alcohol advertisements that appeared in contemporary Chinese-language newspapers and journals. Ads for Asahi and Sapporo beer come as no surprise, but the most revealing ads were for a sweet port wine called Red Ball, created in 1907 by Shinjirō Torii, the founder of Suntory. Red Ball ads promoted the positive, healthy effects of red wine, which was touted as “number one in the medicine world for everyone,” especially for those engaged in physical labour (79). Ads even encouraged “good wives” to ensure that their husbands drank a few glasses every morning before work (81)! Rival products likewise stressed the positive aspects of alcohol consumption, though by 1940 government propaganda began to equate alcohol with smoking, tuberculosis, and constipation as one of “The Four Big Poisons that Destroy Health” (88).
In chapter 5, Smith turns to contemporary Chinese novels and plays dealing with alcohol and especially opium addiction. Despite official guidelines aimed at muffling criticism of the state, these works offered implicit criticism of Manchukuo and its anemic efforts at opium prohibition. Similarly, Smith’s sixth chapter illustrates the alluring dangers of women working as hostesses in modern bars and opium retail outlets during the 1930s. Though they were seen by some as symbols of modern living, they were frequently denounced by social reformers as manipulative temptresses who corrupted public morals. Finally, chapters 7 and 8 illustrate the steps taken by Manchukuo to help opium addicts recover, often at private clinics and hospitals, but also at state-run institutions known as Healthy Life Institutes. Here, Smith makes a terrific contribution to the literature on Manchukuo by detailing the efforts to help Chinese patients recover from years of chronic addiction. While he concedes that much of the available evidence is state propaganda, and that it is also difficult to reconcile the efforts of health professionals with the state’s tacit allowance of the opium trade, there were nevertheless Japanese who attempted to help Chinese in Manchukuo. As Smith asserts, the movement of Japanese into Manchuria was one of the largest migratory waves in modern history, but “the experiences of these pioneers remain hardly known, partly because of the Manchukuo legacy” (197).
As a historian familiar with Japanese business ventures on the continent during this era, this reader wanted more financial details on how the state opium monopoly functioned during the Manchukuo era, especially given the importance of tax revenues during Japan’s “Holy War” against Anglo-American imperialism (90). Smith seldom discusses production costs, distribution channels, pricing, or state revenues directly, as his principal focus is on cultural perceptions of opium and alcohol, rather than the economics of the trade itself. Nevertheless, readers looking for these kinds of details will find many valuable references in his extensive and varied bibliography.
The depth of Smith’s research is impressive, and he writes with the admirable flair and ease of a scholar well-versed in Manchuria’s history. Intoxicating Manchuria features over 40 well-placed photos, ads, cartoons and illustrations that bring the narrative to life, and at just 198 pages of text with richly detailed endnotes, it will appeal to scholars and students alike.
Jeffrey Alexander
University of Wisconsin-Parkside, Kenosha, USA
pp. 854-856