Soul Mountain (chinese)

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Soul Mountain (chinese)
Название: Soul Mountain (chinese)
Автор: Xingjian Gao
Дата добавления: 16 январь 2020
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"Soul Mountain is one of those singular literary creations that seem impossible to compare with anything but themselves… In the writing of Gao Xingjian literature is born anew from the struggle of the individual to survive the history of the masses."

– from the citation of the Nobel Prize committee of the Swedish Academy

When this year's Nobel Prize for Literature was awarded to Chinese expatriate novelist and playwright Gao Xingjian, few in the English-speaking West were familiar with his work. Gao's masterpiece, SOUL MOUNTAIN (PerfectBound, an e-book from HarperCollins; February 20, 2001; $19.95), is a dazzling kaleidoscope of fiction, philosophy, history and fable. Elegantly translated by Australian sinologist Mabel Lee, this richly textured autobiographical novel recounts a dual journey-a literal journey into the heart of China and a spiritual journey of the self.

When Gao was 43, he was incorrectly diagnosed with lung cancer. Resigned to death by the same means that had claimed his father just a few years before, Gao spent six weeks indulging his appetites and reading philosophy. The spot on Gao's lung mysteriously disappeared, but a new threat arose when rumors began to circulate that he was to be sent to a prison farm because of his controversial writings. No longer facing imminent death, the writer quickly left Beijing and disappeared into the remote forest regions of Sichuan, then spent five months wandering along the Yangtze River from its source down to the coast. Gao's 15,000 kilometer sojourn forms the geographic parameters of the fictional journey in SOUL MOUNTAIN.

While on a train at the start of his trip, the writer protagonist meets another traveler who says he is going to Lingshan, "soul mountain," which can be found by the remote source of the You River. The writer has never heard of such a place, and he resolves to go there, but his fellow traveler can give him none but the vaguest directions. Thus begins a metaphoric odyssey into the hinterlands of China and the outlying Qiang, Miao and Yi districts that dangle on the fringes of Han Chinese civilization.

The writer is in search of the traditions that are hidden in rural China, and as he travels he encounters a parade of unforgettable characters who embody both vestiges of the past-Daoist masters, Buddhist monks, ancient calligraphers-and the modern culture that has surfaced since the revolution: small town communist cadres, budding entrepreneurs, independent young girls grappling with parochial repression. The two worlds exist uneasily as one, with stories and customs from centuries past colliding with a world of televisions, automobiles, and technology. All is permeated by the dark legacy of the Cultural Revolution, the encroachment of ecological damage, and the harsh monetary realities of everyday life in contemporary China.

SOUL MOUNTAIN is a dazzling work of the imagination, where classic fables merge with tales of modern cruelty and ancient philosophy does battle with existentialism. But Gao goes deeper still as he explores notions of the devastation of the self at the hands of social expectations. He continually shifts his narrative voice as the "I" of the writer becomes the "you" of an imagined companion, then the "she" of a woman companion. Yet all reflects back on the protagonist, who craves these two seemingly contradictory ends-the solitude necessary for nurturing the self and the anxiety-provoking warmth of human society.

Gao began this novel in the mid-eighties, then carried the manuscript with him when he fled China in 1987. Now living in Paris, he completed the book there in 1989. His writings continue to be banned in his native country. As Gao's work at last gains the public's attention here in the West, SOUL MOUNTAIN provides a dazzling introduction to the achievement of one of contemporary literature's acknowledged masters.

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  夜色越来越浓,黝黑的河面上鼓声消失,显出船只上点点灯火。我突然听见一声汉话叫哥,觉得这声音就来自我身边。转身见坡上四五个姑娘全朝我唱,一个明亮的声音又叫了声哥,这就再明白不过,她可能只会这一句汉话,对于求爱也就够了。我看见了她昏暗中期待的目光,一眨不眨,竟然把我定住了,心突突跳了起来,霎时间我似乎回到了满怀春情的少年时代,早已丧失了的这种的悸动猛的燃烧起来。我不觉贴近去看她,也许是受这里小伙子举动的影响,也许由于光线昏暗,见她嘴唇还微微在动,却没再出声,只等候着,同她一起的女伴们和唱的歌声也轻了下来。她几乎是个孩子,一脸稚气未脱,高的额头,翘起的鼻尖,一张小嘴。我此刻只要有一点表示,我知道她就会跟我走,假依着我,兴高采烈,打起她的小伞。我受不了这持久的对视,赶紧笑了笑,那笑容肯定愚钝,又连忙坚决摇了摇头,怯弱得不行,转身就走,并且再也没敢回过头去。

  我没有遇到过这种求爱方式,虽然也正是我梦寐以求,真遇到了却措手不及。

  我应该承认她那苗家姑娘特有的塌鼻梁,翘鼻子,高额头,小巧的嘴唇和那副亮闪闪期待的眼神,唤起了我早已淡忘了的那种痛楚的柔情,可我即刻又意识到我已经回不到这种纯真的春情中去。我得承认我老了,不仅是年龄和其他种种莫名的距离,那怕她近在飓尺随手可以把她牵走,要紧的是我的心已经老了,不会再全身心不顾一切去爱一个少女,我同女人的关系早已丧失了这种自然而然的情爱,剩下的只有欲望。那怕追求一时的快乐,我也怕担当负责。我并不是一头狼,只不过想成为一头狼回到自然中去流窜,却又摆脱不了这张人皮,不过是披着人皮的怪物,在哪里都找不到归宿。

  芦整响起来了。这时候,河滩下,树丛旁一张张小伞后面,相认了的情侣偎依搂抱,再不就双双躺倒在天与地之间,全都沉浸到他们自己的世界中去。而这世界离我竟这么遥远,就像是远古的传说,我怅惆离开了河滩。

  公路边的芦笠坪上,一根大毛竹顶端吊着盏雪亮的汽油灯。她头上罩着一块黑布披巾,用个银圈在头顶束住头发,戴着个亮闪闪的大银冠,中间是盘龙戏凤,两边各张开五片打成凤鸟羽毛状的银泊,举手投足都跟着抖动。左边的银泊片的羽毛还扎一条花线编织的彩带,一直垂挂到腰下,身腰舞动的时候,更衬托出她的娇美。她身穿一统束腰的黑施子,宽大的袖口露出手腕上几串银铜,全身包裹在黑头巾和黑饱之中,只裸露出颈脖子,套在一对大而厚重的银颈圈里,胸前还挂了一把花纹精致的长命锁,环环相扣的银锁链从微微隆起的胸脯前垂下。

  她深知这一身装束比缀满五彩绣片的姑娘更令人注目,满身银饰又足以表明她身分贵重。她那双赤脚也很美丽,芦签声中她起舞的时候脚踩上两串银阈子也晶晶吟唱。

  她来自黑苗的山寨,这山寨里出落的一枝俊秀的白兰,两片鲜红的嘴唇又像是早春的山茶花,启开的唇间亮出螺钢般的细牙。她扁平稚气的鼻子,那圆圆的脸蛋上,两眼更显得分开,总也微微在笑,乌黑的眼仁闪烁,更增添她异样的光彩。她不必到河滩上去招引情郎,各个寨子里最牛气的后生,扛着两人多高彩带飘摇的大芦空就在她面前弓腰。他们鼓足了腮帮,摇摇摆摆,退步跺脚,引得姑娘们的百语裙在他们眼前忽忽直飘。唯独她只脚踝轻抬,转动得那么灵巧,她不光叫小伙子个个为她折腰,还要逗他们把芦签吹破,嘴唇全吹起血泡,就洋溢那份神气,她就有那么骄傲。

  她不懂得什么叫妒恨,不知道妇人的歹毒,不明白那做蛊的女人为什么把蜈蚣、黄蜂、毒蛇、蚂蚁同铰下的自己的头发,和上精血和唾液,还将那刻木为契的负心汉贴身的衣裤也统统剪碎,封进坛子里,挖地三尺,再理进土里。

   她只知道河那边有个阿哥,河这边有她阿妹,到了怀春的年纪,都好生苦闷,芦空场上双双相会,姣好的模样看进眼里,多情的种子在心底生根。

  她只知道等夜里火塘盖上灰烬,老人打着呼哈,小儿在说梦话,她起身开了后门,赤脚走进花园。跟过来一个后生,头戴的银角帽,从篱笆边走过,轻轻吹着口哨。早起阿爸叫九声,喊多了阿妈要生气,推开房门要拿律相,铺上空空没有人了。

  我半夜躺在岸边屋檐下的楼板上,河面的火光不知什么时候消失了,也没有星光,河水和对面的山影幽黑的连成一片,夜风中透着寒气,传来几声狼爆。我从梦中惊醒,细听是一个还在求偶的绝望的叫唤,似歌非歌,断断续续,分外凄凉。

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