Running on the Roof of the World

Running on the Roof of the World
written by Jess Butterworth
published by Algonquin Young Readers (2018)

There’s so much about this book that, on the surface, calls out to me and screams my name. A middle-grade novel about a tough-as-nails female protagonist. A Tibetan setting. Asian characters with a unique (to middle-grade books) Buddhist perspective.

The book practically leapt off the shelf into my hands.

Running on the Roof of the World follows 12-year-old Tash as she gets thrust into world and political events much larger than herself and rather unexpectedly finds herself attempting the cross-Himalayan trek out of China and into India.

However, as I read the book, something kept nagging at me. Something kept rubbing me the wrong way, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Rural Tibetan village

Was it because the book wasn’t written by an Asian (let alone a Tibetan) but rather a white author? Partially; I won’t lie. That did give me pause. But I was willing to overlook that fact if the story were well researched or informed by real experiences. It was something else.

Tash and her best friend Sam live in rural Tibet (about 12 hours by road to Lhasa), sometime around now (about 50 years after the Dalai Lama fled to India). We’re not given much more information than that. And perhaps that was the seed of my unease with the book. So much of a modern Tibetan’s perspective is shaped by exactly where and when they live.

The set-up and introduction of Tash, her family, their village, and the Chinese authorities are done in a way that I spent the first half of the book assuming it was set in the years immediately following the Dalai Lama’s escape – i.e., the 1960s. So it was a bit of a surprise when one of the characters mentions that his flight was 50 years prior.

The event that propels Tash on her journey is the arrest of her parents by local Chinese authorities for being part of the resistance. And that crackdown is set in motion after a local monk immolates himself. The authorities need someone to blame, so it’s only a matter of time before they go door to door, looking for scapegoats.

Tash’s parents are taken away, and her world is turned upside down. With nowhere else to turn and no one to help, she decides to seek out the Dalai Lama. Surely, he’ll be able to help. One minute, Tash is a relatively naive young girl without much experience outside her small village. The next, she’s on her way to India. Literally.

Potala Palace, Lhasa

In middle-grade novels, time is often compressed. Things happen quicker than they might in real life. I get that. Nevertheless, I had a hard time believing that a 12-year-old Tibetan’s almost immediate decision, when faced with the capture of her parents, would be to make a run for the border, looking for the Dalai Lama. This just doesn’t seem likely in 2018 (or anytime in the past decade, when the book is set).

I’ll fully admit that my own experiences might present me with certain biases in this case. I lived in China for several years, have immediate and extended Chinese family, and have traveled throughout Tibet.

Those experiences shape my point of view, for sure. And when it comes to China-Tibet relations, that means a lot. I don’t defend China’s actions in Tibet over the last 60 years, but one thing that’s been consistent is their continual erasure of the Dalai Lama within Tibet and Tibetan communities throughout China. So it was a stretch for me to believe that the Dalai Lama continues to be so active a presence for a 12-year-old that this was her first (and most viable) choice.

There are a few other pieces that just don’t add up. We’re told that Tash and Sam get a ride to Lhasa, from where they set off – on foot – to India. One look at a map reveals why this is a tough pill to swallow.

Could they have been traveling south to the extreme northeast of India? Perhaps. Except the characters specifically say they’re traveling west. And by the time they finally reach India, they manage to find their way to Dharamshala (unnamed in the book) and the Dalai Lama after a relatively short journey by truck. To avoid Nepal, the trip from Lhasa to Dharamshala would be roughly 1,700 km across the Tibetan plateau before heading to the mountains and toward the Indian border. Tash and Sam begin their ascent into the mountains on the day they head out.

There are also chance encounters that strain credibility and require a HUGE leap of faith by the reader, but that’s basically par for the course in middle-grade books that chart epic journeys such as this. I can forgive the “convenient” plot twists, but I can’t get past these issues of basic geography.

Despite my complaints, though, the book did make me reevaluate some ideas I thought were settled in my mind. It made me question what I thought I knew. It made me research and read up on current events that escaped my notice. It opened my eyes, and that’s the true beauty of all good literature.

As much as I love China and continue to travel there for both business and pleasure, it’s not a utopia. Far from it.

There have been almost 150 cases of self-immolation protests among Tibetans in China since 2009. Not since China invaded in 1950 or since the Tibetan uprising in 1959 but in just the last 10 years!

This is FAR more than I would have guessed, and almost none of them have made Western news headlines. Most of those cases occurred in Qinghai and Sichuan Provinces rather than in Tibet itself, but there are reasons for that that go beyond the scope of this book review.

Also, in light of the recent – and incredibly disturbing – “disappearance” of Chinese superstar Fan Bingbing, it’s clear that the Chinese government is not above brute abductions when it feels cornered. If one of the most well-known A-list celebrities in the country can vanish without a trace, then why not a few rural Tibetans?

Events that initially seemed to stretch believability in Running on the Roof of the World suddenly, upon reflection, seem frighteningly realistic. This is a daily terror that people continue to live with, and it shouldn’t get swept under the carpet.

Books that open a window onto these events and people have never been more vital. And this book, despite its flaws, does an admirable job of opening that window a bit more.