In 1989, I was on Tiananmen Square with the students, living in their makeshift tents and joining their jubilant singing of the Internationale. In the two decades since, each time that I have gone back, visions from those days seem to return with increasing persistence.

When the written and spoken word is censored, the urban landscape becomes a nation's only physical link to the past.

Living in London is like being on a luxury cruise liner.

I wanted to analyse and understand how the Chinese people could have their lives so crushed by fear.

I am a writer. Being critical is a writer's responsibility.

Only when you are aware of the uniqueness of everyone's individual body will you begin to have a sense of your own self-worth.