Source: CCTV.com

12-31-2005 13:11

He loves small animals but hates human pretentiousness. He enjoys reading academic journals but dislikes banal rhetorics. He respects people with integrity and vision but stays away from anything he considers lousy. He finds immense pleasure in debating and communicating.

He is Yang Rui, current host of Dialogue, a half-hour English talk show on CCTV-4 and CCTV-9.

Born in 1963, he grew up in China's northernmost Heilongjiang province. Yang Rui passed the national entrance examination in Nantong, Jiangsu Province and entered the Shanghai Foreign Studies University in 1980. He earned two bachelor's degrees in English literature and international journalism during his six academic years in Shanghai.

He started his journalistic career in 1986 at China National Radio and moved to China Central Television two years later. Yang Rui received a MA degree in journalism at the Wales University Cardiff College, Britain, between 1993 and 1994.

A senior reporter at CCTV's Overseas Service Center, Yang Rui, admits to experiencing frustrations in life but chooses to hang on. He expresses tolerance of human weaknesses but insists he would never forgive what he calls lousy aspects of the Chinese national character. During an interview with our reporter, he said he tried to stay away from extreme ideas in anticipation of achieving peace in his soul and purity for the afterlife, if any. But his professional role often prompts him to be critical. Still he says he is realistic and knows how far he can go.

As a journalist in the forefront of cross-cultural exchanges, he loves the subtlety and sophistication of British people but never hesitates to point out what he sees as their highly established hypocrisy. He says the pride and prejudice of this island nation-state provide him with rich food for thought. This is applied particularly to the issue of colonialism and its role in shaping world history and culture. Yang Rui was brought up to hate capitalism but is coming realize its overwhelming prevalence. He sat in awe for one hour, as he said, in front of Karl Marx's tomb at the Highgate Cemetery in London, unable to express the mixed feelings he felt at seeing the huge statue and Karl Marx's penetrating gaze.

With a major in British literature, Yang Rui is well acquainted with the tale of two cities, not the novel in Britain but the real situation between Shanghai and Beijing in China. Readers may be familiar with Yang Rui's image on the screen but may never be able to know what's on his mind unless they go through the following account.

He has benefited from the achievements of the two metropolitan centers. Beijing is graced with the depth of history and the charm of politics. Yang Rui likes to meditate on the red color of the Tian'anmen Rostrum. He compares the color to the afterglow of a central kingdom and the tint of an ideology. While strolling along the Chang'an Boulevard, he says he understands the ambition and monolithic governance of the nation's masters. The royal gardens and modern high-rise buildings present a picture of harmonious integration. But all this magnificence is subject to the bite of the local weather. The splendor of modernization can be engulfed and crushed overnight by the sweeping seasonal winds typical of the capital. But this, he says, is the price he must pay for his stay and devotion in Beijing.

Shanghai, home of his alma mater, is where Yang Rui stayed for seven years. He wrote many news reports in and about the city.

The Water Front in Shanghai stands as a testament of Shanghai's rapid development. The rich history behind its older part gives those sections a feeling of transcendence next to the new, spectacular financial center in Pudong across the Huangpu River.

Countless shops and companies in Shanghai constitute the city's solid commercial base. Shanghai will perhaps become China's New York with two thirds of the local population speculating to make a fortune from its own version of Wall Street.

This is but a rough sketch of the man as the on-camera interviewer. He says he is constantly divided between being a showman and a deep thinker. He can hardly conceal his mental agony that he will never be able to extricate himself from the necessity of participation and the ideal of transcendence.

"Isn't it a funny paradox?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

 

Editor:Chen