B. L. Putnam Weale
B. L. Putnam Weale was a British journalist and author known for his insightful writings on China during a period of significant political upheaval. Born in 1877, Weale spent much of his life in East Asia, where he developed a deep understanding of Chinese culture and politics. His experiences during the tumultuous years leading up to the fall of the Qing Dynasty and the rise of the Republic of China informed much of his work. Weale's notable publications include 'The Fight for the Republic in China,' which provided a detailed account of the political struggles and social changes occurring in China during the early 20th century. This work was significant for its firsthand observations and analysis, contributing to Western understanding of Chinese affairs during a critical historical moment. In addition to his political writings, Weale authored 'Wang the Ninth: The Story of a Chinese Boy,' a narrative that offered a glimpse into the life of a young Chinese boy, reflecting the broader societal changes in China. Through this work, Weale aimed to humanize the Chinese experience and provide readers with a personal perspective on the cultural shifts occurring in the nation. His contributions to literature and journalism helped bridge cultural gaps and fostered greater awareness of China's complexities during a transformative era. Weale's legacy lies in his ability to articulate the challenges and aspirations of a nation in transition, making him a noteworthy figure in the study of modern Chinese history.
Famous Quotes
View all 1 quotes“The Empress Dowager, the man continued, was much distressed, and had given orders to stop the fighting; the Boxers were fools...Then the soldier waved a farewell, and retreated cautiously, picking his way back through the ruins and débris. Several times he stopped no raised the head of some dead man that lay there, victim to our rifles, and peered at the face to see if it was recognisable. In five days we have accounted for very many killed and wounded, and numbers still lie in the exposed positions where they fell.The disappearing figure of that man was the end to the last clue we came across regarding the meaning of this sudden quiet. The shadows gradually lengthened and night suddenly fell, and around us there was nothing but these strangely silent ruins. There was barricade for barricade, loophole for loophole, and sandbag for sandbag. What has been levelled to the ground by fire has been heaped up once more so that the ruins themselves may bring more ruin!But although we exhausted ourselves with questions, and many of us hoped against hope, the hours sped slowly by and no message came. The Palace, enclosed in its pink walls, had sunk to sleep, or forgotten us - or, perhaps, had even found that there could be no truce. Then midnight came, and as we were preparing, half incredulously, to go to sleep, we truly knew. Crack, crack, went the first shots from some distant barricade, and bang went an answering rifle on our side. Awakened by these echoes, the firing grew naturally and mechanically to the storm of sound we have become so accustomed to, and the short truce was forgotten. It is no use; we must go through to the end.””
