They are not frightening like Muslim immigrants. They are often silent and invisible. They are gentle. And yet in Italy the Chinese living here are an unpopular community against which mistrust and prejudice are increasing, as shown by the recent case involving a young man beaten up by a gang of children in the suburbs of Rome. It was also to remedy this deficit of knowledge, for which the Italian media is also responsible with its clichés, that Raffaele Oriani and Riccardo Staglianò decided to go and see who the Chinese living here are and see how they live and what they think. The result was a very sensitive book that destroys the worse prejudices on this subject. Chinese people never die (I cinesi non muoiono mai, Chiarelettere, 256 pp, 14,60 euro, 2008) is a journey through the peninsula, from Vercelli to Prato all the way to Matera, discovering the faults and virtues of a surprising community, portrayed by Oriani and Staglianò (journalists respectively writing for Io Donna published with the Corriere della Sera and the Venerdì di Repubblica), with curiosity and a degree of admiration (and a mix of tenderness).

From the very first page the two authors do not conceal the more general implications of their investigation. “Looking at them was like looking into a warped mirror. We were those people reflected in the glass, but fat, lazy, resigned and frightened of everything. The immigrants facing us instead were still filled with the energy and courage we had in the Fifties.” Faced with widespread prejudice against the Chinese (considered introverts, vulgar and as having inhuman working hours), the authors were obliged to observe that “this is not a great time for being Chinese in Italy”, and simultaneously write about the extraordinary vitality of this community, whose members “change cities, jobs and lives the way we change mobile phone models”.

Racist rhetoric says that they too are here “to steal our jobs”. Nothing could be further from the truth. The countryside surrounding Vercelli with “fields never so crowded and active since the Sixties” have been repopulated by Chinese immigrants, and in Basilicata they have saved historical districts. For those who live off prejudice this is not enough. Chinese people living in Italy also expiate their homeland’s original sin, blamed for the crisis in the Italian textile sector and the economy by a significant part of the Italian centre-right (led by the current Minister for the Economy Giulio Tremonti). It is not easy to explain why China benefits the western economy, but it certainly would not be difficult to persuade Italians that Chinese immigrants are good for our economy. One should remember – as Oriani and Staglianò do – that although they only represent 5% of foreigners residing in Italy, they own one out of seven foreign businesses. And they don’t just copy others. One of them is in fact a young successful designer called Xu Qiu Lin, from Prato, who founded the fashionable Giupel brand.

Europe’s largest Chinese community is active and industrious. Their children are clever and polite and prefer entrepreneurial risk to permanent employment. They have injected vitality, money and optimism into our old society. And yet we love to talk about them using stereotypes and myths, such as the passports they hand down from one to another, because “Chinese people never die” (hence the title of the book) and because in any case “they all look the same” (because we do not wish to look them in the eyes). The catalogue of our prejudices is amazing. It is said they cannot speak our language. So why does the Italian Ministry for Education state that they are the most diligent students attending Italian language courses for adult immigrants? It is said (also by important newspapers) that they cook St Bernard puppies in their restaurants. Why then have the local health authorities in Milan not even found “a trace or a suspicion” of this?

There are 150 thousand Chinese immigrants and they contribute to our economy (it is sufficient to walk into fashion boutiques and many Italian luxury restaurants). They are not always saints. So as to repay the relative that brought them to Italy they might even spend 20 thousand Euros (or instead provide three years of unpaid hard work for that relative). Organised crime is widespread and they have quickly learned all about corruption. So their greatest defect is that their faults are too similar to our own. The book is also a catalogue of unforgettable character portraits. There is Wang, an agronomist who brought black rice to the Vercelli region. Entrepreneur You Mingrui who is annoyed with Italian trade unions, “Italy’s downfall”, and obviously is crazy about Berlusconi saying that “He is a man who wants to lower taxes, he is concerned with working and moving ahead. Berlusconi is number one”. Or another entrepreneur in Matera, according to whom two hundred Euros is not corruption but rather an offence.”

“Where the train of knowledge stops, the rocket bearing superstition quickly takes off,” say Oriani and Staglianò, inviting Italians to be inspired by the optimism, discipline and resourcefulness of Chinese immigrants in Italy (“Seen through almond–shaped eyes, the peninsula seems to be a never-ending stream of opportunities”) and then describe them as follows. “Chinese immigrants in Italy are not afraid to get their hands dirty. We Italians instead for some time now seem to have impeccably clean hands, to the extent that one wonders if we ever work with our hands at all.” The organiser of Miss China in Italy, Steven Luo, bitterly comments that “You speak of our politicians describing them as communist mummies. Have you forgotten that the first time Berlusconi appeared on the political scene, Deng Xiaoping had just finished ruling in Beijing. In the meantime everything changed here in Italy, Berlusconi is back”.

Translation by Francesca Simmons