Gao Xingjian - One Man

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Gao Xingjian - One Man» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Современная проза, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

One Man: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «One Man»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

One Man's Bible is the second novel by Nobel Prize-winning author Gao Xingjian to appear in English. Following on the heels of his highly praised Soul Mountain , this later work is as candid as the first, and written with the same grace and beauty.
In a Hong Kong hotel room in 1996, Gao Xingjian's lover, Marguerite, stirs up his memories of childhood and early adult life under the shadow of Mao Zedong and the Cultural Revolution. Gao has been living in self-imposed exile in France and has traveled to this Western-influenced Chinese city-state, so close to his homeland, for the staging of one of his plays.
What follows is a fictionalized account of Gao Xingjian's life under the Communist regime. Whether in "beehive" offices in Beijing or in isolated rural towns, daily life is riddled with paranoia and fear, as revolutionaries, counterrevolutionaries, reactionaries, counterreactionaries, and government propaganda turn citizens against one another. It is a place where a single sentence spoken ten years earlier can make one an enemy of the state. Gao evokes the spiritual torture of political and intellectual repression in graphic detail, including the heartbreaking betrayals he suffers in his relationships with women and men alike.
One Man's Bible is a profound meditation on the essence of writing, on exile, on the effects of political oppression on the human spirit, and on how the human spirit can triumph.
***
One Man's Bible belongs to that sad class of books sold on the strength of their authors having won a prize. But a prize is rather a thin argument for reading it, especially in a wooden English translation. Does one want to know more about Gao Xingjian than his first novel translated into English, Soul Mountain, told? That book had just enough exotic colour to survive its translation; from its portentous title onwards, One Man's Bible has much less going for it. It needs more story, structure, people, situations, atmosphere, ideas – anything strong enough to come through the obscuring veil of alien words.
When, in 2001, Gao became the first Chinese writer to win a Nobel prize for literature, it came as a surprise. The Chinese literary bureaucrats – today's counterparts of the strange Soviet creatures in Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita – had long been pushing for one of their trusties to win. Gao was certainly not one of those, but neither was he prominent in any of the exiled literary cliques. Since being driven to leave China in the 1980s he had been living in France, writing supposedly experimental, sub-Beckettian plays with Chinese characteristics that some critics in the Chinese-speaking world thought worth discussing. These plays also suited small, subsidised European theatre companies in search of uncommercial exotica full of the timeless wisdom of the east. While still in China, Gao was best known for Bus Stop, a one-acter about people waiting for a bus that never came. What delighted audiences and infuriated the authorities when the play appeared some 20 years ago was its apparent implied message: the never-arriving bus was the wonderful future that the regime promised but could not deliver.
Soul Mountain was fiction in the form of an autobiography (or vice versa) that told a fragmented tale of a writer on the run in the wilder reaches of the Yangtze valley. The background chimed with Gao's own flight from the thought police, as well as being a celebration of "authentic" China surviving 40 years of the party state in remote and picturesque areas. There was quite a lot of sex, too.
One Man's Bible also invites us to read its central character, again an author, as an alter ego of Gao's. As he looks back from cosmopolitan exile in the present – the book was written in the late 1990s – on his life in China, this author makes much of feeling uncomfortable, and wallows in sententiousness. The book starts with a bourgeois childhood before the Communists seized power in 1949 (when the real Gao was eight or nine), moving on to his family's and his own troubles in the unending series of political campaigns that ran through the Mao era and its aftermath. Much of it deals with the cultural revolution, with our hero as participant as well as victim in a hellish process, and with how all this made him what he is now. Between the earlier life and the recent past there is a gap where Soul Mountain might fit.
Like Gao, the central figure in One Man's Bible is an exile based in France who writes fiction and drama in his own language. He enjoys the freedom not to be caught up in politics, and wonders how he came to be what he is. Invitations to events on the international cultural circuit give us scenes in Hong Kong, Sydney, New York, Perpignan and elsewhere, all of which are much the same. None of it seems to matter very much in comparison with the seriously deranged political movements of his youth which, though hindsight tells him they were wrong, he savours the discomfort of remembering.
If Soul Mountain explored China and Chineseness, One Man's Bible is all about enjoying feeling guilty, but not too guilty. It is about not being at home anywhere, not even in your own skin, and making the best of it; about the middle-aged worry over what you were when you were younger. As the central figure looks back over his life, he tries to accept the great realisation that it hasn't meant anything. Yet for all his attempts to be sophisticated, he can't help but feel disappointed at the pointlessness of life. He has not got over the Maoist urge to preach, though it is now a different sermon.
In the past 20 years, having a hard time under the Communist party dictatorship has been the stuff of a commercially flourishing genre of autobiographical writing in English by people, especially women, who have got out. Gao is not into that sort of soppy stuff. His fiction has rather more in common with a newer popular sub-genre of Chinese fiction for foreign readers: unillusioned fucklit, by younger women writers. The China his central character has left was an awful place, but one that gave him access to plenty of women's bodies. The west has given him freedom and more women for his bed, but not happiness or meaning. It has allowed him to hold forth on life and art, even if what he has to say is banal.
As a self-conscious follower of European modernism, Gao does not give us this fictional life in a chronological sequence. He assumes that readers can find their way through the cut-up narrative of the cultural revolution, picking up references as Chinese people of his generation will be able to. Yet most foreigners will simply be confused. They are more likely to follow the novel through the unending couplings with which its subject tries to fill the voids in his past and present lives. We start with a German-Jewish woman in Hong Kong, where one of his plays is being staged. There is another in France, and others collected elsewhere on his travels, as well as the various sexual partners in his earlier life in China. But on the whole, the bodies do not seem to have brains.
The ideas in One Man's Bible are commonplace, its characters are ciphers, and it is not redeemed by wit, grace or self-mockery. Its solipsism is banal. I hope we will not have to endure a third novel in this series on the splendours and miseries of being a Nobel prize-winner.
WJF Jenner is a translator and expert on Chinese writing.

One Man — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «One Man», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

This motley group had been fired with righteous indignation and ready to fight, but now everyone was docile and, in fact, respectfully receiving a reprimand without a sound of protest. He had detected both resentment and a veiled threat in what the old man said; nevertheless, it was his own fault for being the leader of this motley group and he was obliged to go forward. He asked, "Are you aware that following your order to collect reports, that very night every single person was interrogated? Over a hundred people were branded anti-Party and many more now have records in their files. Would it be possible for you to direct the Party committee to declare a reversal of those cases and to have those records destroyed in public?"

"People have their own jobs to look after, your Party committee's problems are its own. Don't the masses also have problems? I can't say for sure what your Party committee will do, but I have spoken to them about it. I have already retracted what I said, the very words I myself had spoken!"

The senior cadre was getting bored and had risen to his feet.

"Then would it be possible for you to say all this again when you make your report at another such meeting?" He couldn't back down now.

"That would have to be approved by the Party Center. You see, I work for the Party and have to observe Party discipline. I am not free to say anything I like."

"In that case, who approved your speech ordering the collection of reports?"

This was prohibited territory, and he was aware of the weight of his words. The senior cadre fixed his eyes upon him, his eyebrows thick and graying, and said coldly, "I am responsible for whatever I say. Chairman Mao is still using me; I have not been dismissed! Of course, I am personally responsible for whatever I say!"

"Then may we quote what you said on a poster so that everyone can read it? We have been delegated by the masses and this would help when we report back."

Having said this, he looked at the masses by his side, but none of them had anything to say. The senior cadre was staring at him. He knew that this was a power struggle between unequal parties, but there was no way out for him, so he said, "We will write up what you said, then invite you to check if it is all right."

"Young man, I admire your courage!"

The senior cadre remained dignified. Having said this, he turned, opened a door behind his desk, and went out. The door, which earlier had not even been noticed, immediately shut; all that remained was the leather swivel chair and the motley crowd looking vacantly at him. However, that menacing and scornful sentence lingered in his mind.

The paunchy Party secretary stood up to make his report at the meeting. He was mumbling and no longer held his back straight or his head high, as he did a few months ago sitting alongside the senior cadre of the Party Center. Instead, he was wearing reading glasses and held his notes in both hands farther away than the microphone as he read out a word at a time. He was struggling to make out the words: "I now understand that I had misinterpreted… the spirit of the Party Center. I gave… wrong instructions. I harmed… the revolutionary fervor of comrades and hereby earnestly-" At this point, Comrade Wu Tao paused, then raised his voice to continue, "Very earnestly apologize to all comrades present-"

He lowered his big head in a token bow. He seemed to be senile, but sincere and humble.

"What wrong instructions? Be more specific!" someone in the meeting asked loudly.

Wu left his notes and, head bowed, looked over the top of his glasses at the people in the meeting. At the same time, those present started looking around at one another. Wu immediately returned to his notes and went on reading methodically. He read even more slowly, enunciating each of his words with greater clarity. "When old revolutionaries encounter new problems, we deal with them according to old paradigms based on our experiences. But, under the new circumstances of today, this absolutely-will not-do!"

It was all empty bureaucratic talk, and there was a stir in the meeting again. Probably thinking he was about to be interrupted again, Wu suddenly left his notes to say loudly and emphatically, "I gave wrong instructions, I committed an error!"

"What old paradigms? You make it sound as if it's nothing! Do these old paradigms of yours refer to opposing rightists?" This time, it was a section head, a Party member, who had stood up. It was a woman nearing middle age, who had been labeled anti-Party. Not knowing how to respond immediately, Wu looked at the woman through his reading glasses, which had slipped down his nose.

"What do those old paradigms of yours refer to? Do they refer to opposing rightists by luring snakes out of their lairs?" The woman was agitated and her voice was trembling.

"Yes, yes." Wu hastened to nod.

"Whose instructions were these? What were the instructions? Make yourself clear!" the woman followed up.

"Comrades of the Party Center leadership, our Party Center -" Wu took off his glasses to try to see who the woman was.

The woman was not intimidated, and, raising her head, asked loudly, "Which Party Center are you referring to? Which leader do you mean? How did you receive your instructions? Speak up!"

The people at the meeting all knew that the sacrosanct Party Center had already split, and that even the Political Bureau of the Party Center was in the process of being replaced by Mao Zedong's Central Cultural Revolution Proletariat Command Group. Comrade Wu Tao's headquarters had lost control of the meeting, and a buzz of voices arose. However, as Party secretary, Wu Tao rigidly kept to Party rules. Without replying, and assuming an injured tone, he loudly silenced the meeting, "I represent the Party committee in apologizing to those comrades who have been subjected to criticism!"

He again lowered his head, but this time he bent the whole of his body forward and this seemed to be quite an effort for him.

"Hand over your blacklist of names!" The middle-aged man who shouted out was a Party cadre who had been subjected to criticism.

"What blacklist?" Wu, alarmed, immediately asked back.

"The blacklist based on your investigations to decide who was to undergo reform through labor!" It was the woman section head shouting again. She was pale, agitated, and her hair was in a mess.

"There's no list!" Wu reached over and seized the microphone to immediately deny this. "Don't believe rumors! Comrades, don't worry, our Party committee does not have a blacklist! I guarantee in the spirit of the Party that a blacklist does not exist! I admit that some comrades have suffered, and that our Party committee has inappropriately attacked some comrades. We have committed errors, but a blacklist of names definitely does not-"

Before Wu had finished, there was a disturbance in the left corner of the meeting. Someone had left his seat and was heading for the dais.

"I want to speak! Why can't I speak? If it really doesn't exist, why are you worried if people speak out!"

It was Old Liu, pushing aside the security officers barring him from getting onto the dais.

"Let Comrade Liu Ping speak! Why can't people speak? Let Comrade Liu Ping speak!"

During the shouting, Old Liu pushed his way through, mounted the dais, and turned to the meeting. Shaking his fist at Wu Tao, also on the dais, he said, "He's lying! When the Cultural Revolution started and the first poster went up, the Party committee held an emergency meeting. The branch Party secretaries of departments were then instructed to carry out personnel rankings, so the political department has had these name lists from way back! Needless to say, when people were investigated-"

The meeting exploded and, up front and at the back, people had stood up at the same time and were shouting and yelling.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «One Man»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «One Man» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «One Man»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «One Man» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x