by Deng Ming-Dao ‧

Mystical-iconic treatment of a Sifu (Taoist master) by one of his disciples--who would have done better to give us a more matter-of-fact account. Deng piques our curiosity by telling us that his hero, a solitary ascetic named Kwan Saihung (b. 1920), ""has also been a martial artist, circus acrobat, Peking Opera performer (specializing in the role of the Monkey King), soldier, political science professor, and undersecretary to Zhou Enlai,"" not to mention the occasional jobs he has held as masseur, waiter, bar bouncer, etc. since leaving China some 20 years ago. But we get to see precious little of this, as Deng follows his master on the path of spiritual perfection rather than worldly adventure. Kwan Saihung came from a rich aristocratic family in Shaanxi province. At the age of nine he was sent to Huashan, a forbidding mountain retreat where he got a rigorous training in the principles of Taoism. Barely into his teens, he began traveling around China to learn, and later give demonstrations in, the martial arts. At 16 he became a renunciate, but took a grim leave of absence to fight as a lone commando against the invading Japanese. Worn out by the horrors of war, he returned to Huashan, immured himself in a cave, fought off some St. Anthony-in-the-desert temptations, and finally achieved enlightenment. At which point the story ends, omitting what Saihung did after the Communist takeover, how he got to the States, etc. Deng regales the reader with a feast of Taoist lore, in the form of sermons by wise old monks, descriptions of Taijiquan, qigong exercises, the ling qiu meditation, et al. Some of it, especially the Taoist demonology, is liable to be too mytically rich for American appetites. And Deng's narrative skimps on worldly details (even Saihung's exploits behind Japanese lines have a hallucinatory vagueness about them), which, however it enhances the book's esoteric appeal, inevitably weakens its human interest.