Gerelchimeg Blackcrane

Born on the northern Tibetan plateau, Kelsang was a purebred Tibetan mastiff, one of the world's largest and fiercest dog breeds. Orphaned as a puppy, when his mother was killed in a battle with a snow leopard, he became his master Tenzin's sheep dog, until two unscrupulous strangers, realizing his worth, tricked his human keeper into parting with him. What followed was a period of various unhappy adventures for Kelsang, from his experiences being forced to fight other dogs, to his time as a stray in Llhasa, where he was briefly looked after by an elderly and mostly indifferent painter. After a period of being chained up outside a rural hotel, our canine hero made his escape once again, meeting his true human master - the kind Han Ma - in the process. Experiencing love and devotion for the first time, Kelsang wanted nothing more than to stay by Han Ma's side, and after some other adventures, and a period of being parted from him, the mastiff was finally reunited with the human to whom he had become so devoted. Here, on the grasslands of Hulunbuir, when a terrible and dangerous snowstorm struck, Kelsang once again proved his courage, dedication, and worth...

Apparently Gerelchimeg Blackcrane, a Chinese citizen of Mongolian ethnicity who is celebrated for his many animal stories, is a best-selling author in his native country. Having greatly enjoyed The Moose of Ewenki, the only other one of his books to be translated into English thus far, I lost no time in tracking down Black Flame, originally published in China as 黑焰 (Hēi yàn). I am so glad that I did, as I found it to be an engrossing story. There are certainly many heartwarming moments here - I loved the interactions between Kelsang and Han Ma, which are beautifully described by the author! - but I wouldn't describe this as being sweet, in quite the way that so many contemporary animal stories here in the west would be. Blackcrane write realistically, and without overt sentimentality, about the darker aspects of his canine hero's life, whether that be the natural enemies (particularly wolves) with whom he fights, or the human beings who mistreat him, and act as if he is nothing more than a commodity, rather than a feeling being with needs of his own. As a result, some of the scenes here can be a little difficult for an animal lover to read, but they never feel gratuitous, and the motivations of all involved always make sense in the context of the story, even when (in the case of humans) they are not so admirable.

Knowing nothing of mastiffs, Tibetan or otherwise, when I picked Black Flame up, I immediately went digging around on the internet (as you do), and discovered that like so many other breeds around the world, there was a fad for a while in China, of keeping these animals as pets. As Blackcrane's story makes abundantly clear, these are not animals that can be safely or happily kept by just anybody, and they have certain requirements - lots of space to roam, the need for actual work to do - that make keeping them in most cities problematic. I was therefore not surprised to discover that there is an epidemic of abandoned Tibetan mastiffs, dumped back in Tibet by their rich former Chinese owners, and being cared for mostly by monasteries. Ironically, given that Blackcrane clearly warns about the dangers of taking such dogs to large cities in his story, I can't help but wonder whether 黑焰, which was first published in 2005, was connected to the craze. Given that one of the first articles I read featured a photograph of a Tibetan mastiff being beaten to death by men with shovels, I almost wish I hadn't gone looking! Unlike animals, humans never fail to disappoint...

Leaving that disturbing reality aside, Black Flame is a book I would highly recommend, with the proviso that very sensitive animal lovers may find some scenes (especially the ones where Kelsang fights off wolves or other dogs) disturbing.… (mere)

Based upon a traditional tale passed down by the reindeer-herding Ewenki people of Inner Mongolia, this poignant and powerful story from Gerelchimeg Blackcrane, a Chinese author of Mongolian ethnicity, concerns the relationship between a hunter and the baby moose who adopts him. Although the Ewenki customarily avoid killing moose when the mothers are raising their calves, hunter Gree Shek - out hunting in a season not known for calves, and not perceiving the baby hiding near his mother - mistakenly does just that. When the baby moose, now named Xiao Han ("Little Moose), latches onto him as a result, he finds that he has a new lifelong companion, and that the animal follows him to camp - sleeping in his tent, eating his food, and soon becoming part of the reindeer herd. But as the years pass, and Gree Shek grows older and more infirm, it becomes obvious that, although devoted to his own human, Xiao Han needs the wild, and isn't meant for more developed human environments. Knowing that he will soon die, and that his moose will be orphaned amongst those who will not care for him as he does, Gree Shek drives Xiao Han away, deep into the woods. Some time later, other Ewenki hunters find Gree Shek dead, and bury him in an area of the forest that is said today to be guarded by a massive moose - the very one adopted by the old hunter...

Although familiar with Gerelchimeg Blackcrane's name - his children's novel about a Tibetan Mastiff, Black Flame, was translated into English in 2013, and has been on my to-read list ever since - The Moose of Ewenki is my first exposure to his work. To say that I was impressed would be an understatement! I found the story here deeply moving, and appreciated both its compassion and what felt to me like a clear-eyed realistic approach to its subject. Blackcrane does not shy away from depicting hard realities, such as the fact that Gree Shek knows that he is dying, that other humans cannot necessarily be relied upon to care for Xiao Han as they should, and that he must therefore be firm in driving the moose away. The scene in which he shoots at Xiao Han's feet, because the moose simply won't leave him, was heartbreaking. Gree Shek's own death is handled without sentimentality, described in an understated way that makes it all the more poignant. The description of the old man's dog, who refuses to leave the burial site, guarding his human even in death, left me with a lump in my throat. Of course, although text-heavy, this is a picture-book rather than a novel, and the other component of my great enjoyment of it was the absolutely gorgeous artwork of Chinese illustrator Jiu Er. Beautiful, expressive, with a deft use of color and light, the artwork here was a rich tapestry, and worth seeking out for its own sake. Together with the text, it makes The Moose of Ewenki truly shine!

I'm on a book-buying moratorium right now, alas, but I think I might make an exception for this one, and give myself a copy as an early Christmas gift. It truly is a beautiful, beautiful book! I will be tracking down Blackcrane's other book in English very soon, and can only hope that more of his work is translated soon.… (mere)