The Banished Immortal: A Life of Li Bai

by Ha Jin (Jin Xuefei)

The chief constraint of biographical non-fiction is one of primacy: the protagonist—who must remain recognizable within the bounds of our reality—cannot become a literary subject whose solitary actions are so auspicious they circumscribe the totality of what is exists for the reader. 

What is life for a hobbit if you’re not family friends with one of five Wizards of Middle Earth? How does life shake out for the rural peasant that doesn’t know which House vies for the Iron Throne? Fiction cuts that which doesn’t aid the plot. Non-fiction presents what is known. Somehow, The Banished Immortal: A Life of Li Bai created a biography that reads like a The Hero’s Journey.

Li Bai—the version built from the pages of Banished Immortal, anyway—feels impossibly likable. Throughout the telling, it becomes a given that no matter where he goes Li Bai makes friends and creates lifelong connections. He was a poet who “...wanted, indeed, to see the entire country, believing that his mind would be expanded and that, in turn, his poetry would gain greater spirit and depth. For him, travel was not simply entertainment; it was how he learned and grew.

Grandiosity and presumption, talent and zest in equal parts.

Yet as a constant traveler, his essence would exist in his endless wanderings and in his yearning for a higher order of existence. But for now, he was to roam through the central land as a miraculous figure of sorts, as people later fondly nicknamed him the Banished Immortal. This moniker, which he embraced readily, implied that he belonged to heaven and was here only because he had misbehaved up there. It became essential to his sense of identity—it gave him a narrative for his extraordinariness and a kind of entitlement to proper treatment from the rich and powerful. 

There was something satisfying and beautiful about reading this book, beyond the elegant phrasing— “Even cicadas in the treetops sounded tired and thirsty”— and structural appeal of seeing ancient China streamlined to fit a video game scenario. Li Bai was an RPG adventurer: learning esoterica; gaining skills; changing careers; saving people; accruing renown. “Li Bai took his time as he wandered farther south. As this journey was meant to gradually build his reputation as a knight-errant and itinerant bard, he traveled at his own pace, often without an immediate destination. Whenever possible, he would make and excursion to sightsee or visit luminary figures.

Even in the underworld
Old Ji still brews wine.
But Bai is not down there yet,
So who do you sell it to?
— Mourning Old Wine-Maker Ji in Xuan Town

It is the type of biographical non-fiction that sparks the imagination of anyone who has ever wanted to write an adventure story. The questing atmosphere was what I loved most, but Banished Immortal also excels at covering the substance of Li Bai’s poetic corpus.

He was a merchant’s son who advised an Emperor. An alcoholic who died in obscurity. A Daoist remembered forever. A poet still quoted to this day. 

 Banished Immortal: A Life of Li Bai is a book that commingles literary wonder with historical record while never shattering the boundary of believable reality. That triumph cannot be overstated.

David Dinaburg