The most recommended books about China

Lin is well-known among romance aficionados for her groundbreaking Tang Dynasty historical romances. With The Lotus Palace, the first novel in her Pingkang Li Mysteries series, she expands into crime and political intrigue. This is the only non-fantasy or science fiction title on this list, and it’s here because Lin not only crafts an engaging story of murder and romance, she also handles the historical setting like an absolute master. The world of the 9th century Tang capital Changan—from the seedy gambling dens and bars of the Pingkang Li red-light district to the luxurious family compounds of the exclusive northeast quarter—feels familiar and lived-in, rich and complete, fully detailed without reading like a history textbook.

In this book, Gregory B. Poling delves into the intricate and perilous maritime conflicts across the globe, particularly in the South China Sea, to assess US interests.

I like that his analysis spans over a century of American engagement in the region, spotlighting the convergence of these disputes with the enduring US advocacy for freedom of navigation and its evolving Asian alliance network. This sweeping historical narrative informs readers why this ocean matters to all Americans.

The St. Mary’s series is an outstanding time travel series that drags a reader willingly through hill and dale, fire and flood, laughter, and tears, often concurrently.

This fourteenth book in the series is no different. Maxwell and her adventures through time and trouble make me giggle and grip my seat. I’m certain she’s coming to the last of her repeated nine lives. Somehow, she makes landing in excrement, on fire or not, the just right approach to survival and victory, even when it frequently comes with profound loss. Any book that can make my heart race with worry and laugh at the same time is worth a read, more than once.

Many kids love the Disney animated film Bambi, but how many know they have a Chinese American immigrant to thank for its lush and lovely look? Author Julie Leung tells the moving story of a boy named Wong Geng Yeo who traveled across an ocean from China to America with little more than the immigration papers he needed to start his new life. Chris Sasaki’s delicate illustrations detail how Wong dreamed of making art even as he worked as a janitor at night to pay the bills. The love and care that Tyrus Wong poured into what would become one of the great movies of love, friendship, and, years before The Lion King, of the circle of life, Paper Son is an exquisite reminder of the great gifts that immigrants have brought to America.

There’s a kind of charm and naïveté about the detective in this book, he is a relatively strait-laced character and his shock and moral outrage at the sexual and material excesses of some of the corrupt children of high-ranking CCP officials betokens a wholly different society and upbringing, conditioned by Party propaganda. Inspector Chen revels in poetry and ‘good' food, although descriptions of banquets of turtles and bear’s paws again speak of different cultural tastes. The story is delivered slowly—this is set in a Shanghai before computers and mobile phones and the hero must wend his way around town to speak to witnesses by bus and train. It’s a satisfying read and an evocative journey to a faraway time and place.

We’ve been told ‘the market knows best’ for a long time, and we’re now seeing the economic, political, and environmental breakdown which comes from arranging society around the market’s diktat. Worse, we’ve been here before.

In Late Victorian Holocausts, the late historian Mike Davis documents the most shocking historical consequences of organising societies to please the market. In the heyday of the British Empire, London’s obsession with ‘leaving it to the market’ extended to letting profit dictate who should eat and who should starve.

After the British stripped away traditional social networks on which the majority could depend in times of crisis, people found that ‘the market’ demanded food be shipped from where it was needed, to where there was money. The loss of millions of lives to famine was not the result of ‘backwardness’ and ignorance, but of ‘modernity’ and the market. 

There is a veritable cottage industry now on books on China and its global strategy and influence. This book by Rush Doshi is one of the best because its analysis is based on extensive analysis of Chinese Communist party documents over decades. Doshi's analysis asks whether or not China has a grand strategy by examining China’s foreign policy concepts, capabilities, and conduct. This makes for a compelling and detailed analysis. 

This was my third favorite book. It provides an accurate and concise history of the semiconductor industry and its role in modern geopolitics. Mr. Miller has treated a highly complex topic with precision yet rendered it understandable to the lay reader.

His book helps the reader understand the role of the various competitors, both companies and countries and why the competition between them matters. It would be difficult to understand the world today without knowing what this author tells us. 

On the surface, the novel is basically a tale of personal vendetta a sect disciple takes up against his master, whom he deems impossibly haughty and cruel. But in reality, it is a xianxia (Daoist cultivation) story with a sensual twist centered on the tortured gay romance between a morally gray disciple and his sorely misunderstood cultivation master.

Emotions of jealousy, rage, thwarted desire, hatred, and addiction run deep throughout the story. It’s a type of story that’s meant to unsettle your soul, and it did have that effect on me. The portrayal of the lead couple Mo Ran and Chu Wanning, is done with exceptional brilliance. The novel left me pining for more.

I know I said in my introduction that there are too many books from the missionary perspective and not enough from a Chinese point of view, but I’m going to make an exception here with the only novel, too, in the group. In this 1985 title, the extraordinary John Hersey captures the urge of American missionaries to proselytize in China, as well as their complicated relationship with Chinese Christians. This sweeping fictional biography of David Treadup, whose character is a composite of the lives of actual missionaries, including Hersey’s father, carries the reader from New York state in the early 1900s to the People’s Republic of China in the 1950s.