What is there left to write about Mei Lanfang? Many scholars might have this question when they learn about the newest scholarly publication by Min Tian. Mei Lanfang (1894–1961), arguably the best-known Chinese actor of jingju (Beijing opera or Peking opera) or of any Chinese traditional operatic forms (xiqu) in the West, has inspired countless writings, ranging from tabloid magazine articles and biographies to historical documentation and scholarly theorization in many languages. Meiology (Meixue, Mei studies) has become a distinctive field in China, and Min Tian himself is probably the most prolific Mei scholar in English. What should we expect from his new book, Mei Lanfang and the Twentieth-Century International Stage: Chinese Theatre Placed and Displaced?

With the focus on Mei Lanfang's influence on the twentieth-century international stage, this book covers Mei's visits to Japan, the United States, and the Soviet Union, as well as the theorization of the lingering effects on Meyerhold, Eisenstein, Tairov, Brecht, Barba, and others. The first three chapters detail the “placement” and contemporary receptions in the three foreign countries, and the last two chapters discuss the “displacement” of Mei Lanfang in the modern Western theater theories.

The most valuable chapter is the first one, which documents the reception of Mei's appearances in Japan (1919 and 1924). Most writings on Mei in the West focus on Mei's American and Russian visits in the 1930s; most Chinese writings on Mei and Japan emphasize Mei's anti-Japanese patriotism during World War II. This chapter offers a rare study of the reaction of Japanese theater circle to Mei as a very young artist. Tian states, “The young Mei Lanfang and his art . . . helped the Japanese imagine the history and tradition of their national theatre” (p. 40). The young nandan (female impersonator in jingju) is compared with wakaonnagata (young female impersonator in Kabuki), a practice in Kabuki's early stage. In other words, Mei was seen as an example to help combat Japan's “Occidental craze” (p. 36) as shinpa (modernized Kabuki) and shigeki (Western-style modern theater) were seen as threats to traditional Japanese theater during this time.

Chapters 2 and 3 are familiar subjects: Mei's American multi-city tour in 1930 and his encounter with the artistic circle in the Soviet Union in 1935. In the U.S. context, rather than crediting Qi Rushan for branding and marketing Mei's art for Western tastes, Tian emphasizes Mei's artistic merit and the “displacement” of his art in the contemporary Americans' desire for “New Stagecraft” and antirealism.

In the Soviet context, the relationship among Mei Lanfang, Brecht, and Stanislavski is summarized in the 1981 article by the famous Chinese theater scholar Huang Zuolin: “Stanislavsky believed in the ‘fourth wall,’ Brecht wanted to demolish it, while for Mei Lanfang such a wall did not exist and so there was never any need to pull it down.” Tian has also pointed out in his early article that Mei's visit helped Brecht solidify his theory of A-effect, which had already been formulated. Continuing with his theory of displacement, Tian further writes, “Brecht, a modernist and a Marxist, used Chinese acting as a weapon against the bourgeois naturalistic acting and the Stanislavsky system” (p. 218).

In the last two chapters, Tian reiterates his theory of displacement, which also plays an important part in his earlier writings, especially in his 2008 book The Poetics of Difference and Displacement.Footnote ³ Tian concludes that it is the ways in which Mei is seen in “the matrix and dynamics of intercultural displacement” in various national, aesthetic, ideological, political, and cultural contexts that a “subterranean history” is presented in the book (p. 220). In other words, it is the absence of the real understanding of Mei and the multiple and contested readings of Mei that have helped invent the Drama King in Tian's theory of displacement.

Unfortunately, from time to time, there is a little slippage into a more essentialist and nationalist cliché about Mei, such as “Mei's success was primarily and decidedly due to his superb art” (p. 72); another occasion is about modern Japan's imperialist and colonialist interests in China (pp. 54–55). Statements like these, although not untrue, seem to weaken Tian's strong theory of displacement. What Meiology does not need is another book glorifying Mei's art with a hint of Chinese nationalism.

The research is extremely impressive: Tian has consulted archives in different languages and included materials first seen in English publication. The glossary for Chinese and Japanese terms and resources is also a treasure trove. For the past two decades, Tian has published a number of articles and books, including an edited volume of scholarly writings on Mei Lanfang.Footnote ⁴ Like his 2008 book, the 2013 book is built on his earlier published works: even though there is large amount of new material, the theorization is similar. I highly recommend this book for its archival discovery; however, readers might be disappointed if they are looking for ground-breaking theories.

So what is there left to write about Mei Lanfang? Tian demonstrates that there is probably plenty to be uncovered if we keep digging; however, the mythologized, glorified, politicized, and historicized Mei Lanfang should probably be put to rest half a century after his passing. As traditional Chinese theater is barely holding on today, I look forward to reading Tian's investigation on contemporary Chinese opera.