Soul Mountain (chinese)
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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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四十九
那县城的老街上，一家杂货铺子门前，两张条凳搭的店家的销板，摆着他那个字摊子。一条条写在红腊光纸上吉祥的对子从销板上挂下来。"龙凤呈祥，喜庆临门"，"出门逢喜事，地上生白银"，"生意兴隆通四海，财源茂盛达三江"，全是这类被几十年来的革命口号和语录代替了的老话。还有两张写着"逢人一笑三分喜，凡事无心祸自消"，就不知是他自己编的，还是老祖宗们积累的处世经验。那是一种花体字，骨架子不错，又有点像道士的符箓。
他坐在铺板后面，上了年纪，穿的一件老式的对襟褂子，后脑勺子还扣了一顶洗得褪色了的旧军帽，显得有几分滑稽。我见铺板上还放了个镇纸的八卦罗盘，便上前同他搭讪：
"老人家，生意好哇。"
"还行。"一副字多少钱呀？"两块三块的都有，字多钱就多。"
"就写一个福字呢？"
"也得要一块。"
"这不才一个字？"
"我得替你现写呀。"
"要画一个消灾避邪的符呢？" 他抬头望了望我说："这不好画的。"
"为什么？"
"你是干部，怎不晓得？"
"我不是干部，"我说。
"你也是吃公家饭的，"他一口咬定。
"老人家，"我需要同他套点近乎，"你可是道士？"
"早不搞了。"
"知道，"我说，"老人家，我是问你会不会做道场？"
"怎不会呢？政府不让搞迷信 。"
"哪个叫你搞迷信？我是收集唱经的音乐的，你会不会唱？现今青城山的道教协会都重新挂牌开张了，你怕啥子？"
"那是大庙子，我们这火居道土不让搞。"
"我就找你这样的民间道土，"我更有兴趣了。"你能不能给我唱两段？比方说，做丧事道场，或是驱邪赶鬼的经文？"他果真哼了两句，但立刻打住，说："这不好随便惊动鬼神，要先烧香请神。"
就在他唱经的当口，不觉好些人围拢过来，有人喊道：
"老头儿，唱一个花花子歌！'
周围的人都笑了。
"我给你们唱个山歌吧，"老头儿也满开心自苦奋勇说。
众人便叫："要得！要得！'‘
老头儿于是突然高声唱了起来：妹子哟在山上掐茶叶，
你哥在山下割茅草，
惊起鸳鸯两地飞，
妹快同哥做一对。
人群中齐声叫好，跟着有人一个劲煽动：
"来一个花花子歌！"
"耍一个嘛，老头儿！"
老头朝众人直摆手说："耍不得，耍不得，耍了要犯原则。"
"唱一个歌子犯得了好大的原则？"
"不要紧的，老头儿，唱一个听听嘛！'
众人都纷纷起哄，小街上已经堵满了人，过不去的自行车直掀车铃。
"可是你们叫唱的哟！"老头儿受了鼓舞，真站起来了。
"唱一个戴瓜皮帽儿的马猴钻绣房！"
有人点歌了，众人又是叫好，又是鼓掌。老头儿用手抹了抹嘴，刚要叫嗓子，突然打住，低声说：
"警察来了！"
好些人都回头，见人头后面不远处，有个白边红线的大盖帽子在游动。人群中纷纷说：
"这有啥子？"
"开个心又有啥子要紧？"警察，警察还管得了这许多！" "说的好听，你们走了，我这生意还做不做了？"老头坐下，嘴也不让，朝众人去了。
民警过来了，众人悻悻的都散了开去。等民警过去了，
我说：
"老人家，能不能请你到我住的地方唱几段？等你摊子收了，我先请你到饭铺里去吃个夜饭，一起喝酒，行不行？"
老头儿兴致被勾了起来，显然也得不到排解，立刻答应：
"要得。不卖了，不卖了，我就把摊子收了，等我把铺板归置好。"
"耽误作生意了。"我自然要表示点抱歉。
"不要紧的，交个朋友。我也不靠这吃饭，进得城来，顺便卖几副，挣个零花钱，要单靠笔墨吃饭还木饿死？"
我便到街斜对面的一家饭铺先要了酒菜。不一会，他果真挑着一副箩筐来了。热菜上来，我们吃着讲着。他说他十岁光景，他老子把他送到个道观里去帮着烧火做饭，是他老头得病时许下的愿。老道给他启蒙的课本《玄门日课》如今还能倒背如流。老道死了之后，这道观就由他主持，道场的种种法事他没有不会的。再后来土改分田，道士做不成了，政府令他返乡，就又种上了田。我问起阴阳风水，五雷指法，踏罡步斗，相面摸骨，他说起来样样有谱，我心中自然大喜。可饭铺里都是做完了买卖，挣得了钱的农民，吃酒划拳，大声喧呵，十分吵闹。我说我包包里就带个录音机，他讲的这些都是珍贵的材料，我想吃罢了饭，请他同我到我的旅店做些录音，他要念要唱也落得清静。他抹了抹嘴，说："你把酒也带上，到我家喝去，我屋里道袍法器都有。"
"也有驱鬼的司刀？"
"那少不了的。"
"也有令牌，调神遣将的令牌？"
"还有锣鼓家伙，做道场这都少不了，我都做把你看。"
"要得！"我把桌子一拍，起身便跟他出门。我问：
"你家就在县城里？"
"不远，不远，我把挑子也存到人家家里，你到前头汽车站等我。"
不过十分钟，他快步来了，指着一辆马上要开的车叫我快上！我没有料到上了汽车一路不停，眼看车窗外山后的太阳的余晖暗淡消失了。等车到了终点一个小镇，离县城已出去了二十公里，车当即调头走了，这是最后一班。
这小镇只有一条至多五十米长的小街，还不知有没有客店。他叫我等一等，又钻进一家人家。我心想既来之则安之，碰上这么个人物，人又热心也是一种机缘。他从人家里捧出半脸盆豆腐，叫我跟他走。
出了镇子，上了一条土路，天色已黑。我问：
"你家就在这镇边的乡里？"
他只是说："不远，不远。"
走了一程，路边的农舍看不见了，夜色迷瞟，四下水田里一片蛙鸣。我有点纳闷，又不好多问。背后响起突突突突发动机的声音，一辆手扶拖拉机赶了上来。他立刻大声招呼追上去，我也就跟着他连跑带跳跨进拖斗里。这土路上，在空的拖斗里颠簸像是筛豆，就这样颠了约摸上十里路，天全黑了，只这手扶拖拉机一道黄光，独眼龙样的，照着一二十步远的坑坑洼洼的土路，一个行人也没有。他同司机用土话像吵架似的大声叫喊个不停，除了那震耳欲聋的摩突声，我一句也听不清。他们要是商量把我宰了，我也只好听天由命。
好容易到了路的尽头，出现了一幢没有灯光的房舍，车主到家了。开了屋门，从他脸盆里分了几大块豆腐。我跟随他又摸黑上了田埂间曲曲折折的小路。
"还远吗？"我问。
"不远，不远。"他还是那句老话。
幸亏他走在前头，他要搁下脸盆，施展功夫，我知道老道没有不会功夫的，我转身要跑多半掉进水田里，滚个一身泥巴。蛙声稀疏，背后一层层梯田水面的反光表明已经上山了，山上的蛙鸣也比较孤单。我于是找话同他搭讪，先问收成，后问种田的辛苦。他说也是，要光靠种田，别想发财。今年花了三千块钱改了两亩水田做鱼塘。我问他养鳖不？说是城市现今都时兴吃鳖，一说是防癌，二是补养，卖价可贵呢。他说他下的都是小鱼秧，把鳖放进去，还不把鱼秧都吃了？他说，他钱现在倒有，就是木料难买。他有七个儿子，只老大娶了亲，其余六个都等着盖屋分家，我也就宽心了，仰望天上的星光，欣赏起夜色。
前面灰沉沉的山影里，有一簇闪烁不定的灯火。他说这就到了。
"我说不远吧？"
可不，乡里人对远近自有他们的概念。
夜里十点多钟，我终于到了个小山村。他家堂上点着香火，供的是好几个木头和石刻的断残的头像，大抵是前些年破四旧砸庙宇时从道观里抢救出来的，如今公然摆上，屋梁上果真贴了几道符箓。六个儿子都出来了，最大的十八岁，最小的才十一，只老大不在。他老婆是个小个子女人，老母八十了手脚也还利索。他妻儿一番忙碌，我立刻成了贵客，打来了热水洗脸不说，还要洗脚，换上了老人家的布鞋，又泡了一杯浓茶。
不一会，六个儿子把锣鼓烧拔都拿了出来，还有一大一小两面云锣，挂到一个大架子上。刹时间，鼓乐齐鸣，老头儿套上一件紫色缀有阴阳鱼、八卦图像的破旧道袍，手拿令牌司刀和牛角从楼上下来，全然另一副模样，气派庄严，步子也悠悠缓缓。他亲自点燃一柱香，在堂上神龛前作揖。被锣鼓声惊动了的村里人男女老少全堵在门坎外，立刻成了个热闹的道场，他没有骗我。
他先端了一碗清水，口中念念有词，弹指将水洒在房屋四角，等弹到门槛前众人脚下，人都哄的说笑起来。唯独他木动声色，眼睛微闭，嘴角一挂，便有一种通神灵的威严，众人却越加笑得厉害。他突然将道袍的袖子一抖，将令牌叭的拍在桌上，众人笑声更然而止。他转身问我：
"有大游年歌，九星吉凶歌，子孙歌，化象歌，四凶星应验日决，作房门公婆神名，祭土神祝文，请北斗魂，这些都要唱的，你听哪一个？"
"那就先唱请北斗魂吧，"我说。
