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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七十八
一个死去的村庄,被大雪封住,背后默默的大山也都积雪覆盖,灰黑的是压弯了的树干,那灰的蓬松的该是杉树上的针叶,黯淡的影子只能是雪堆积不上的岩壁,全都没有色彩,不知是白天还是夜晚,昏暗中又都明亮,雪好像还在下着,走过的脚印跟着就模糊了。
一个麻疯村。
也许。
也没有狗叫?
都死绝了。
你叫喊一下。
不必,这里有过人家,一堵断墙,被雪压塌了,好沉重的雪,都压在睡梦中。
睡着睡着就死掉了?
这样倒好,怕的是屠杀,斩尽杀绝,无毒不丈夫,先用肉包子打狗,肉馅里掺了砒霜。
狗垂死时不会哀叫?
一扁担打过去,打狗的鼻子,高明的打手。
为什么不打别处?
狗打鼻子才能顿时丧命。
他们就没一点反抗?全扼杀在屋子里,没出门一步。丫头和小儿也没逃得出?
用的是板斧。
连女人也不放过?
奸杀女人时更加残忍-
别说了。
害怕了?
这村子不能就一户人家?
一家三兄弟。
他们也死绝了?
说的是血族复仇,要不是瘟疫,或是发了横财,他们在河床里掏到金子。
他们被外人杀死的?
他们霸占了河床不准外人来淘。
河床在那里?
你我脚下。
怎么就看不见?
看见的只是幽冥中升腾的水气,这只是种感觉,这是条死河。
你我就在这死河之上?
对了,让我领着你走。
去哪儿?
到河的对岸,到那白皑皑的雪地里,雪地的边沿有三棵树,再过去就到山前,被雪覆盖的房屋压塌在积雪之下。只这段残壁还矗立,断墙背后可以捡到破了的瓦罐和青瓷碗片。你止不住踢了一脚,一只夜鸟扑扑飞了起来叫你心凉,你看不见天空,只看见雪还在飘落,一道篱笆上茸茸的积雪,篱笆后面是个菜园。你知道菜园里种有耐寒的雪里蕻和像老婆婆面皮样的瓢儿菜,都理在雪下。你熟悉这菜园子,知道哪里是通往这菜园的后门槛,坐在门槛上你吃过煮熟了的小毛栗,是儿时的梦还是梦中的儿时你也弄不清楚,弄明白要费很大气力,你现在呼吸微弱,只能小心翼翼,别踩住了猫尾巴,那东西眼睛在暗中放光,你知道它在看着你,你假装并没看它,你得一声不响穿过天井,那里竖着根筷子,筷子上扣着个蔑匾,你和她就躲在门背后牵着根麻绳,等麻雀儿来,大人们在屋里打牌,他们都戴着铜边的圆眼镜,像金鱼的鼓眼泡,眼珠突出在眼眶外面,可什么也看不见,捻的纸牌一张张凑到眼镜跟前,你们便爬到桌子底下,看见的全是腿,一只马的蹄子,还有一条肥尾巴拖得老长,你知道那是狐狸,它摆动摆动,变得邦邦硬,成了一条花斑母老虎,蹲坐在太师椅上,随时准备扑向你,你无法从它面前走开,你知道格斗会很残酷,而它就扑向你!
你怎么啦?
没什么,好像做了个梦,梦中的村庄落着雪,夜空被雪映照,这夜也不真实,空气好生寒冷,头脑空空荡荡,总是梦到雪和冬天和冬天在雪地上留下的脚印,我想你,
不要同我讲这个,我不要长大,我想我爸爸,只有他真爱我,你只想跟我睡觉,我不能没有爱情也做爱,
我爱你,
假的,你不过是一时需要,
你说到哪儿去了?我爱你!
是的,在雪地里打滚,像狗一样,一边去吧,我只要我自己,
那狼会把你叼走,把你内脏吃空,还有狗熊,把你抢到洞里成亲!
你就想着这个,关心我,关心我的情绪,
什么情绪?
猜猜看,你好苯哟,我想飞-
什么?
我看见黑暗中一朵花,
什么花?
山茶花,
我摘给你戴上,
不要破坏它,你不会为我去死,
为什么要死?
你放心好了,我不会要你为我去死,我真寂寞,没有一点回声,我大声喊叫,四周静悄悄,泉水声也没有,连空气都这么沉重,他们淘金的河流在哪儿?
在你脚下的雪下,
胡说,
那是一条地下的暗河,他们都躬着腰在河上涮洗,
有一个刺探,
什么?
什么也没有,
你真坏,
谁叫你问来着,喂,喂,好像有回声,前面,你带我过去,想过去就过去好了,…我看见,你和她,在雪地里,灰蒙蒙的夜,不甚分明,又还看得见,你在雪地里,一双赤脚。
不冷吗?
不知道冷。
你就这样同她在雪地里一起走着,周围是森林,深蓝色的树木。
没有星星?
没有星星,也没有月亮。
也没有房屋?
没有。
也没有灯光?
都没有,只有你和她,在一起走着,走在雪地上,她戴着毛围巾,你赤着脚。有点冷,又不太冷。你看不见你自己,只觉得你赤脚在雪地里走,她在你身边,挽住你的手。你捏住她手,领着她走。
要走很远吗?
很远,很远,不害怕吗?
这夜有些古怪,墨蓝又明亮,有你在身边,就并不真的害怕。
有一种安全感?
是的。
你在我怀里?
是的,我依着你,你轻轻搂住。
吻了你吗?
没有。想我吻你吗?想,可我也说不清楚,这样就很好,一直走下去,我还看见了一只狗。
在哪儿?
在我前面,它好像蹲在那儿,我知道它是一只狗,我还看见你哈着气,腾腾的水汽。
你感到了温热?
没有,可我知道你哈出的是热气,你只是哈气,没有说话。
你睁着眼睛?
不,闭着,可我都看见了,我不能睁开眼睛,我知道,睁开眼睛,你就会消失,我就这样看下去,你就这样搂住我,不要那么紧,我喘不过气来,我还想看,还想留住你,啊,他们现在分开了,在朝前走。
还在雪地里?
是的,雪有些扎脚,但挺舒服,脚有点冷,也是我需要的,就这样走下去。
看得见自己的模样?
我不需要看见,我只要感觉,有点冷,有一点点扎脚,感觉到雪,感觉到你在我身边,我就安心了,放心走下去,亲爱的,你听见我叫你吗?
听见了。
亲亲我,亲亲我的手心,你在哪儿?你别走呀!
就在你身边。
不,我叫你的魂呢,我叫你,你可要过来,你不要抛弃我。傻孩子,不会的。我怕,怕你离开,你不要离开我,我受不了孤独。你这会不就在我怀里?是的,我知道,我感激你,亲爱的。睡吧,安心睡吧。我一点也不瞌睡,头脑清醒极了,我看见透明的夜晚,蓝色的森林,上面还有积雪,没有星光,没有月亮,这一切都看得清清楚楚,好奇怪的夜晚,我就想同你永远待在这雪夜里,你不要离开,不要把我抛弃,我想哭,不知为什么,不要抛弃我,不要离我这么远,不要去吻别的女人!