In the Chinese press, the popularity of young novelist Han Han makes him not a literary sensation but rather a cultural phenomenon. Phenomenal for being an excellent writer but a high school dropout. Phenomenal for the chord his critique of the Chinese educational system has struck with his peers. Phenomenal for his individualism, an attitude still taboo in China. And phenomenal for the vitriol he inspires in his elders and China's state-run media.

     Han Han was only 17 when he released his debut novel "The Third Way" ("San Chong Men"), a scathing critique of the Chinese educational system through the context of an adolescent love story. Han Han hates being called a phenomenon, but his phenomenal success since opened the door for a slew of other teen writers who signal the debut of China's Little Emperors as a unique literary voice.

     The first generation to result from the one child policy, spoiled by their parents and by unprecedented economic prosperity, they are grouped in Chinese parlance as the 1980s-born. The scribes starting to emerge from their ranks primarily rail against school and teachers, complaints that express a deeper frustration with a flawed educational meritocracy that serves as the primary determinant of individual opportunity in modern Chinese society.

     These privileged youth, raised on a cornucopia of consumer choice, are now struggling to define themselves and their options in aggressive consumer terms. The demanding "me first" attitude of the Little Emperors means their rebellion is primarily selfish, indifferent to higher ideological or political goals, but that selfishness presents a challenge to the still communal norms of Chinese society.

     While their teachers, parents and the state hold up scholastic overachievers as modern-day Lei Fengs, the 1980s generation has chosen as its heroes those like Han Han who have defied the system and succeeded outside of and in spite of it. Han Han grew up in Shanghai's Jinshan suburb, and by junior high school was better read than his Chinese literature teachers but a spectacular failure at other subjects. The autobiographical The Third Way depicts precocious but erudite teens using obscure classical references to mock their ignorant Chinese teacher.

     Han Han dropped out of high school after freshman year and to write The Third Way. It was published in May 2000 by the Writers' Press in Beijing. Its first printing sold out in three days. Han Han's instant celebrity also made him an instant pariah. The press routinely labeled him "bad apple" out to corrupt China's youth, and

was offended by his brazen confidence and defiant individualism. Han Han shrugs off the controversy surrounding his persona with characteristic indifference. "If they don't like me, that's their problem. I don't care."

     Han Han's notoriety for embarrassing critics and baiting interviewers has if anything expanded his fame. The more the adults attacked him, the more he made them lose face, the more his audience adored him. The bad apple's star continued rising with a second best-selling book, a group of essays entitled "One Degree Below Zero", in August 2000 - and his father joined the fray with the supportive "My Son Han Han". The controversy continued when he refused an invitation to attend the prestigious Fudan University.

     A television version of "The Third Way" is now in the works, and he released another novel this May. "Fly Like Youth" is a streaming rant on youth, bad behavior, girls, and Han Han's favorite subject, cars. He currently divides his time between writing and late night drag racing on Beijing's outer Fifth Ring Road, and the James Dean association is no deterrent to the rebel with no cause but himself.

     In addition to exciting controversy, Han Han's commercial success stimulated the publishing industry's interest in teen writers. Some have joined Han Han in taking their teachers to task, including the 17-year old Gu Yang, who debuted at only 15 with a science fiction novel "Jungle Diary". She followed with another, "Jungle Secrets", last year. This year's "Failing Grade" ("Bujige") is comprised of essays that she wrote for her high school composition class; these essays have received enthusiastic praise from Chinese literary critics, but had previously received failing grades from her teacher.

     "While Han Han is making an argument, Gu Yang putting the matter out for discussion, to let the public weigh in on whether her essays really deserve a failing grade," explains Yu Debei, Ms. Gu's editor at the Northern Women and Children's Publishing House. "Gu Yang's just trying to make her point, not a serious critique."

     Chun Shu, 19, does not write about school, but her "Beijing Baby Doll" ("Beijing Wawa") adds to the calls for more life path alternatives, and has stirred up almost as much controversy as "The Third Way" did two years ago. Boasting chapter titles like "Janis Joplin and McDonalds," it's a savvier and younger version of the scandalous Shanghai Baby with its descriptions of the young author's adventures with sex, art, poetry and punk music in the bars of Beijing's Xidan district.

     Sales for this genre are going incredibly well. "Failing Grade" has to date sold several hundred thousand copies in only partial distribution, and Han Han estimates that his first two books have sold over a million copies each, with "Fly Like Youth" expected to do similar business. Almost a fifth of China's population, the 1980s generation makes marketers salivate.

     "The '80s kids are now the number one audience that everyone in the entertainment industry is trying to reach. There's a lot of money there, so the media is already trying to define them," says music executive Fu Chong. Fu's New Bees label debuted with an album by precocious punk trio The Flowers (Hua'r), and their song "School's Out!" (Fangxuela!) has become a popular teen anthem. "The formula is simple: they want to hear about themselves. For artists in that generation, their age is their appeal; they know their audience and what they like. All The Flowers had to say was 'School's out!' to reach their peers."

     The Little Emperors delineate themselves as modern, open-minded, worldly, Westernized, confident and cynical. The "Manifesto of the 1980s-born," heavily circulated on the Internet, declares, "What's bad about the 1980s generation? We're open, audacious and honest. We start dating young. We jump rope. We dye our hair, drink, and smoke. At 16 or 17 we find a 'boyfriend or girlfriend make love'. We like Nike, Elle, 5 Street. We decide our own style. It's none of your business. If you approve of us, then you're modern. If you oppose, you're a fogy."

     Beyond their ability to cause a literary splash, sell albums, preoccupy the media and perturb society, it will be a few more decades before the 1980s-born Little Emperors began to hold any real sway in China. The oldest of them, however, are now entering the workplace. As they begin to climb China's political, economic and cultural ladders, they bring with them dubious work ethics and waistlines but also a brash confidence and sense of entitlement that suggests they will demand more real freedom, opportunity and choices than their elders have been willing to settle for.