Confucius tells us how to live the happy life our hearts need, or so says Yu Dan. It is a message many in China want to hear. People there are confused and angered; great gains have come but there is also corruption and vulgar displays of money everywhere. No wonder this book has sold 10m copies, though I cannot see the real Confucius in much of what she writes. The essence of his teaching was about how the individual should relate to his family, to his friends, to society and, ultimately, to the emperor. It was about people knowing their place. This book started as a series of lectures on Chinese central television. In this rather flat translation, and deprived of the body language that made Yu Dan such a lively broadcaster (she was called the "beauty scholar"), she comes across as an agony aunt, not the transmitter of a great tradition. And her prose can be breathtakingly banal.

Confucius tells us how to live the happy life our hearts need, or so says Yu Dan. It is a message many in China want to hear. We are puzzled, confused and angered. Great gains have come but we also see corruption and vulgar displays of money everywhere, cut-throat competition, huge unemployment, absent social services, environmental decay. People feel uncared for and no one gives a damn. When we look for solace we find the much discussed "spiritual vacuum".

No wonder Yu Dan has struck a chord. Her book tells people how to achieve inner peace through the wisdom of Confucius and a medley of Buddhist, Daoist and Christian teaching. Some say she has given them "chicken broth for the soul". Her book has sold more than 10m copies in China, making her the country's "most famous woman".

Classical scholars, though, feel no such reverence. They have called her "an illiterate with a higher degree who takes pleasure in castrating traditional Chinese culture"; one turned up at a book-signing wearing a T-shirt that read: "Confucius is deeply worried".

I have to say that I cannot see the real Confucius in much of what Yu Dan writes. The essence of his teaching was not happiness, but how the individual should relate to his family, his friends, to society and, ultimately, to the emperor. It was about people knowing their place. No wonder China's rulers relied on it for 2,000 years, with one boasting: "With half a book of the Analects of Confucius, I can govern the Empire."

The Chinese government is now reviving Confucianism as part of its strategy to promote the "harmonious society", establishing Confucian MBA courses for the new rich and even setting up Confucian institutes around the world. It has distributed Yu Dan's book to teachers, students and civil servants. This is a far cry from the days when Confucius was reviled in national campaigns and his descendants' graveyard was ripped up by Red Guards (the ultimate humiliation for any Chinese). He stood for the feudal society and preached self-restraint when Chairman Mao wanted continuing revolution; I still remember the essays I had to write at school denouncing him.

Yu Dan is a professor of film and television studies, and her book started as a series of lectures on Chinese Central Television. Her brief was to make her talks suitable for 15-year-olds and it shows. In this rather flat translation, and deprived of the body language that made her such a lively broadcaster (she was called the "beauty scholar"), she comes across as an agony aunt, not the transmitter of a great tradition. And her prose can be breathtakingly banal. For example: "If a person's heart is free from worries, indecision and fear, they will naturally have fewer complaints about the world around them, and their ability to hold on to happiness will also increase." Indeed.

 Sun Shuyun's A Year in Tibet (HarperCollins) is out in paperback