Shan Sa - La joueuse de go (chinese)

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Amazon.com Review
In war-torn Manchuria of the 1930s, two lives briefly find peace over a game of go in Shan Sa's third novel, The Girl Who Played Go (translated by Adriana Hunter). The unnamed characters, a Japanese soldier stationed in China and a 16-year-old Manchurian girl, narrate their stories in alternating first-person chapters. For the girl, the struggles of Independent Manchuria take a back seat to her discovery of love and the awakening of her sexuality. For the soldier, his idealized dreams of samurai honor and imperial conquest are slowly displaced by homesickness, troubled recollections of his earthquake-torn youth, and remorse over a lost love. But the solitary concerns of each character are eventually submerged by the tides of war. The girl's first lover, Min, is a revolutionary. His ardor for his virgin conquest is matched by a doomed patriotism. Simultaneously, the soldier comes to relish the girl's home town, Thousand Winds, in Southern Manchuria, and becomes distrustful of his own nationalism. His daily games of go with the young female stranger awaken a new passion in him that becomes entwined with admiration for her aggressive play.
As they hardly speak, the soldier and the girl's views of each other remain clouded in Sa's technically facile narrative maneuvers. Where the soldier sees love, the girls sees escape. By maintaining the first person, Sa (winner of the French Prix Goncourt du Premier) leads the reader not only to experience the Japanese and Manchurian perspectives of the occupation, but also she offers glimpses into the deep failure inherent in cross-cultural and cross-generational communication. Couple with the rich historical detail, Sa's narrative games reward close reading amidst the briskly paced spiral into tragedy. -Patrick O'Kelley
From Publishers Weekly
In her first novel to appear in English (her two previous novels, published in French, won the Prix Goncourt and the Prix Cazes), Sa masterfully evokes strife-ridden Manchuria during the 1930s. The first-person narration deftly alternates between a 16-year-old Chinese girl and a Japanese soldier from the invading force. As in the Chinese game of go, the two main characters-the girl discovering desire, the soldier visiting prostitutes, both in a besieged city-will ultimately cross paths, with surprising consequences for both. Sa's prose shifts between lavish metaphor-the girl's sister, grieved by an adulterous husband, is "not a woman but a flower slowly wilting"-and matter-of-fact concision ("We weary of the game and kill them," the soldier says of two Chinese prisoners, "two bullets in the head"). The most absorbing subplot is Sa's careful rendering of the girl's sexual awakening. Though at first intrigued by a liaison with a revolution-minded student, she is reluctant to enter adulthood, a state she views as fraught with injury and falsehood, "a sad place full of vanity." To escape her increasingly troubled life, she becomes a master at go, eventually taking on the soldier, who is in disguise. As the two meet to play, they gradually become entranced, even while war rages around them. The alternating parallel tales add an extra spark of energy to this swift-moving novel, as Sa portrays tenderness and brutality with equal clarity.
***
Japan 's bloodbath in China during the 1930s began in Manchuria, a resource-rich region in northeast Asia. This prelude to World War II in the Pacific haunts Shan Sa's story of young lovers whose worlds collapse in a typhoon of despair. The Girl Who Played Go, the fiction winner of the 2004 Kiriyama Prize, has an economy of prose that allows the novel to cover an epic time, while focusing on the tragedy of a Chinese girl who loves a Japanese boy. This boy comes to her as an enemy soldier trying to maintain his father's samurai ethic; she comes to him as a member of an aristocratic Manchu yellow-banner family that has served the Qing emperors in Peking. His side is on the rise, hers in decline.
The protagonists meet in a public park, a place where one can play the ancient board game of Go. Both play masterfully, initially knowing nothing of each other's identity. They are strangers in a game of strategy, much like their political leaders in Tokyo and Nanking. The interplay of two youngsters and two empires drives the narrative, allowing the author to counterpoise the Japanese story with its Chinese counterpart. Family portraits from both sides illuminate two teenagers driven to adulthood before their time, cheated of a full youth and the critical years when they might have discovered their humanity – already a challenge in a time of terror and terrorism with the Manchurian war regressing into bitter guerrilla fighting, which results in atrocities on both sides.
Shan's voice is unmistakably Chinese – feminine but hard, finely tuned and precise. Not a word is wasted, no excess of emotion shown. She colors her background with a few swift strokes that a master calligrapher would admire. Her dialogue has a staccato rhythm, somewhat like a Chinese Hemingway with bullet prose. Ornamentation is not for Shan, stark reality is.
More than pleasure, readers will become involved in a healing process. As horrific as the war was, its aftermath has brought a dreadful hatred between the former enemy states. Japan bashing dominates much of what comes through in recent Chinese literature. This book offers a way around the sepsis wasting away a possible healing. Shan has created two life-loving youths shattered in a hellish war that carries them and millions like them to early deaths. Even-handed in her treatment of both main characters, she allows a reader to see the richness of both Japanese and Chinese culture, making us imagine how they might each enrich the other once again
Reviewed by Patrick Lloyd Hatcher

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她一言不发。月亮在一片宁静中升起。我听见树木在叫喊,也听见了自己冰冷的声音:

“小姐,您弄错了,我被您的聪敏吸引,同您其他的棋友没什么两样,都是匆匆过客。要是我昨天下午有什么失礼之处的话,请您多多包涵。我向您保证,这是第一次,也是最后一次,我非常尊重您。忘了您刚才说的话吧,您还年轻,人心莫测,不要信任陌生人。”

她的笑声吓我一大跳。

“从我们对阵伊始,我就觉得您的手法与众不同。我大惑不解,决意要研究您的思想。于是,在记录棋局的纸上动了脑筋。几日前,在回家途中,我坐在黄包车上反复阅读,我并不想胜过您,只想多了解您一些,窥视你的灵魂,钻研您忽略了的边边角角。我在您心中漫游,也许我比您还懂得你自己。”

我叹了口气,她的坦白证实了我多日来的猜测。从那刻起,输赢便已不再重要。围棋变成了与对手相会的借口,是自己说给自己的谎言。

她说得对。我不懂得自己也不相信自己。我戴着层层假面具,不知道我是谁。“现在,既然您已经知道了我的险恶用心,”她缓缓说道,“您可以终止这盘棋。您也可以看不起我,不再见我。您也能邀我再战一局,一切任您定夺。”

“我?”

“您想怎样就怎样。”

我迷惑地睁开眼。中国少女正在注视着我,她的眼神使我想起了艺妓光在请求我夺去她的童贞时的痛苦期望。

我浑身燥热,呼吸沉重。

“我马上就要动身去内地了,您不能指望我。”

她的声音颤抖起来:

“我也是,我想要离开这里,我想去北平,请您帮帮我吧!”

不得不决定了。她请求我将幻想变为现实。这也就是一个简单的动作。我只要站起身,拉起她的手,我们就可以远走高飞。

不知自己在石椅上呆坐了多久。周围一片漆黑,我如盲人一样,不辨东西,也不知何去何从。黑暗使人忘记纪律、道德,鼓励人背叛。然而,我却没勇气改变我们的命运。

我听到自己沙哑而残酷的嗓音,一字一句像刀捅在心口上。

“对不起,我爱莫能助。”

过了良久,我听得她的衣群簌簌作响。她起身远去了。

87

审视自己的房间,然后扪心自问哪些是生命中最珍贵的东西,这是一种十分奇怪的感觉。十六岁的我拥有文房四宝,都是祖母送给我的礼物。父母每年都会叫裁缝给我量身订做四条旗袍。我还有斗篷、手笼、绣鞋、皮鞋、手镯、耳环、胸针、项链。我有成套的校服、运动服、铅笔盒、钢笔、橡皮。我还有众多的玩具,洋娃娃、皮影儿戏、瓷质动物--小时候,当我不小心打碎一个时,会难过得哭鼻子,当然还有那些爱不释手的书籍。

房中则满是珍贵的螺钿质家具,锻绣屏风,明式床上挂着帐子,还有一个盆景,那是陆表兄送我的生日礼物。房中还有各种镜子,首饰盒,化妆品,古花瓶,先人墨宝。当然也少不了花针彩线,茶叶盒子,杯子上还留着我的唇印,床单上残存着我的体味,枕头上曾经拥抱我的思想。我曾在窗台上双手支颊,目光抚过花园中的一草一木。

夜珠进房来叫我去吃晚饭。姐姐瘦了。她的脸上毫无表情。我请她坐下。她一言不发,在梳妆台前垂泪。

这是我在家中最后的晚餐,席间一片凄凉。每人内心中都埋藏着不祥的预感吧。父母低头吃饭,看都不看对方一眼。夜珠的病使他们深感内疚。厨娘一时疏忽,一根筷子从她手中滑到了地上。响声惊动了姐姐,她又不住哭泣起来。不难想象,我走后家中的夜晚会是怎样的苦闷:桌上一片肃静,我的碗筷还摆在那里,据说这可以召回缺席之人;菜凉了,没有人动口,父母不住叹气,姐姐泪如泉涌。

我在书包中塞了些首饰,两条裙子,还有手纸,卫生棉。

我把两匣棋摆在桌子正中。本想带走一只黑子,一只白子。后来又决定不携带任何纪念品。无谓的惆怅会使人动摇。

88

我咬着牙关,不再去千风广场。

日来,我几乎什么也吃不下去。用最苦的操练折磨自己,但仍没有疲倦的感觉。最近一直滴雨未下,炽白的阳光照得我快疯了。我的爱火转变为兽欲。多少个不眠之夜,我无时无刻地幻想,有如干渴之人在梦中痛饮甘露,我居然在黑夜中触到她的肌肤。我不知疲倦地在脑海中勾勒出她的面容,她的颈项,她的肩膀,她的双手,她的乳房,她的胯骨,她的屁股,她分开的双腿。我想象出千百种拥抱她的姿势,每一种都比前一种更旷野。我自慰。可我的阳具却嘲笑我的欲望,拒绝让我达到高潮,不肯放我肉体的压抑。

很快,我的痴迷由夜晚延伸到白天。我在出操跑步时也能勃起。我发令时喊破了嗓子。咽喉中的巨痛让我联想到与中国少女做爱时苦涩的快感。拥抱她,与她的灵魂融入一体,这将是我今生今世最强烈的高潮。

一日,我彻夜未眠,天未亮就穿上军装,出了营门,千风广场上空空荡荡,一张张棋桌反射着灰红的曙光。林间树叶沙沙作响,仿佛有千百种风在此相会,等待日出。

远处走来第一位棋迷,手中提了个鸟笼,他用布仔细地拭着桌面,小心翼翼地摆上棋子。第二位棋迷出现了。望着他们,我痛苦万分。

晚上,我和上尉喝得酩酊大醉,半夜又敲开了玉兰的门。她不计前仇,一下子就脱光了衣服。我很久没碰过女人了。我将她的裸体想象为中国少女的裸体,不一会儿,就像机枪一样将几天来积压的兽性统统在她身上发泄出来。

从玉兰那出来,我在街上乱走一气,只盼得能和少女偶然相遇。小小的千风在我眼中变得广阔无边。失望变为绝望,一抬腿又迈进了一家妓院。那儿的姑娘没有一个让我看得上眼。然而我还是被牡丹拉进她的房间,她一笑就露出一颗金牙,身体肥白细腻,呻吟声夸张至极。

凌晨四时,一个白俄妓女同意我骑在她身上抽打她。我的皮带在她后背留下道道紫痕。

天已破晓。太阳仍照常升起。我摇醒了正在打盹的黄包车夫,叫他把我拉到七韵山脚下。山间,曾为她遮荫的那棵树上笼着淡红的朝晖。同我记忆中的那棵大树一般无二。余下的景致却失去了原有的诗意。林中空地上杂草丛生,焦黄枯萎。

营区中,我不知再如何发号施令,整日里坐立不安,也不知道自己心思何处。

这天晚上,尖厉的哨声将我从梦中唤醒。我睁开眼睛。解脱的时刻到了!

月台上,火车头冒出滚滚蒸汽。我催促战士们赶快登车,最后,一跃而上,关上了身后的车门。一瞬间,我想起自己居然忘了跟中村上尉道别。

上尉,来世再会吧!

89

北平早成了一座空城。

晶琦腋下夹着报纸回来了。他的脸色一天比一天阴沉。中日议和失败。战争升级迫在眉睫。成千上万的北京人不得不抛弃家园南下逃亡。

晶琦禁止我离开旅店。他在房间时我拒绝起床。他责怪自己把我引入火坑,这种内疚让他的脾气变得更加暴躁。他越来越丑,让我生厌。我嫌弃他头发长得太长,整天咬着指甲,又学会了酗酒。

我盖着像裹尸布一样的床单,常和晶琦为了些微不足道的小事争吵。我说面条太淡,茶太苦,蚊子太多。我为酷暑所苦,牢骚满腹。晶琦总是听着,他都以不屑的沉默作答。他有时也会大发雷霆。盛怒之下,

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