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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弹精光,举手投降,扑通一声跪倒在地上,只有副眼镜,用绳子套在头上,镜片一圈圈的,磨损得像毛玻璃一样。"
"你编的吧?"我说。
"这都是真事?"女人在里间房里说,也还没睡。"要编也编不过你,你现在是小说家。"
"真正的小说家是他,"我朝里间对他女人说,"他是天生讲故事的好手,当年班上没人能讲过他。只要他一开讲,全都傻听着。可惜,才写了篇小说,没出笼就给毙了。"我为他不免有点惋惜。
"他也是,只有你来才这样讲,平常连句多话都没有,"他妻在房里说。
"你就听着,"他对他女人说。"说下去!"他真的提起了我的兴致。
他喝口酒,重又提起精神。
"这几个上去,把他眼镜除了,用枪管撩拨撩拨他,厉声问:你要是人,跑什么?他混身哆噱,噢噢乱叫。有个伙计拿枪顶了他一下,吓唬他说,你要再装神弄鬼,就把你毙了!他这才哭出声来,说他是从劳改农场逃出来的,不敢回去。问他犯什么罪了?他说他是右派分子。这伙都说,右派分子都哪年的事了?早平反了,你还不回去?他说他家里人不敢收留他,才躲到这大山里来的。问他家在哪里?他说在上海。这伙儿说你家里人都他妈的混蛋,为什么不收留你?他说他们怕受牵连。大家又说,受个鬼的牵连,右派分子都补发了一大笔工资,这会人还巴不得家里有个右派分子呢。又说,你是不是有精神病吧?他说他没有病,只是高度近视。几个伙计都止不往直乐。"
他女人在房里也笑出声来。
"你才是个鬼,只有你才讲得出这样的故事。"我也止不住笑,好久没这么快活。
"他是五七年打成右派,五八年弄到青海农场劳改。六0年闹灾荒,没吃的,浮肿得不行,差点死掉,逃回上海,躲在家里养了两个月。家人硬要他回去,那时候定量的口粮人都不够吃,再说,又怎么敢长期把他藏在屋里?他这才辗转跑进大山里,已经二十年了。问他这些年怎么活下来的?他说头一年,山里一户人家收留了他,他帮他们打柴,做些农活。后来下面的公社里听到了风声,要查他来历,他才又躲进这大山里,平时靠那户人家暗中给他点接济,弄盒火柴,给点油盐。问他怎么打成右派的?他说他在大学里研究甲骨文,当时年轻气盛,开会讨论,对时局发了几句狂言。众人说,跟我们走吧,回去研究你的甲骨文。却硬是不肯走,说要把这片包谷收了,是他一年的口粮,怕走了叫野猪给糟蹋了。众人都起哄说,叫它们拉屎吧!他要去拿他一身衣服。问他衣服在哪里?他说在崖壁下一个山洞里,天不是太冷的话,平时舍不得穿。有人给他一件上衣,让他扎在腰上,才领着他一起回到营地。
"完了?"
"完了。"他说,"不过,我还想了个另外的结尾,拿不准。
"说说看。"一天之后,他也吃饱了,喝足了,沉沉一觉睡醒过来,突然~个人号陶大哭起来,都弄不清他又怎么了?只好过去问他。他涕泪俱下,喂噎了半天,才说出句:早知道世上还有这许多好人,就不至于白白受这许多冤枉罪!
我想笑却没笑出来。
他眼镜里闪烁出一点狡狯的笑容。
"这结尾多余,"我想了想说。
"是我故意加的,"他承认,摘下眼镜,放到桌上。
我发现他散漫的眼光与其说是狡狯,倒不如说有点凄凉,同他戴上眼镜时那种总嘻笑憨厚的样子判若两人,我以前没见过他这模样。
"你要不要躺一会?"他问。
"不要紧,横直也睡不着,"我说。
窗外已见晨爆,外面暑热退尽,吹进习习凉风。
"躺着一样聊,"他说。
他给我支上个竹凉床,自己拿了个帆布躺椅,把灯灭了,靠在躺椅上。
"你要知道,当时运动中审查我,也就这帮抓野人的伙计,差一点没把我枪毙掉,子弹擦着头皮飞过,没被他们失手打死,算我命大。事不关己,人人都是好汉。
"这也就是你这野人的故事的妙处,听来人人快活,其实人都非常残酷,你也就不必再把它点穿了。
"你讲的是小说,我讲的是人生。我看来还是写不了小说。
"一说有蚤子,大家都去捉,生。怕自己是蚤子,有什么办法?
"人要都不去捉呢?
"也还怕被人捉。
"你不就不肯去捉吗?
"也还是被人捉。
"就这么车载轴转下去?
"总还有点进步吧?要不我敢来找你喝酒?早当野人去了。
"我也一样收留不了你。要不,哥儿们一起当野人去?"他也笑得从躺椅上坐了起来。"这结尾还是不要的好,"他想了想也说。