Gao Xingjian - One Man

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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.

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It was only then that he thought back to when the girl had come to see him, maybe she was trying to get him to save her. Had it already happened prior to that? Or did the girl sense that it was about to happen? Or had it happened, but she hadn't yet become pregnant? She had not said anything of what she wanted to say, because she didn't know how to say it. It was all in the girl's eyes, she wanted to say it, but she had stopped herself. It was all in her hesitation, in the sour sweat of her body, in her movements. She kept looking at the door of his room, what was she looking at? What was she looking for when she avoided his eyes to size up his room? She could have had a very clear plan. She had come on the night when there was no electricity, so that she wouldn't be seen. She said nobody had seen her coming, so clearly she had been on the alert. Was there some secret she wanted to tell him about? If, at the time, he had shut the door and had not been so careful-she clearly wanted him to shut the door-would she have told him everything, and this tragic event have been averted? She didn't want him to turn up the lamp, could she only talk about it in the dark? Or did she have something more complicated on her mind, something that would get him to sympathize with her and save her, stop or interfere with what was about to happen or had already happened?

The people of the small town all knew that the Sun girl had been raped by Hunchback, and that her mother had taken her to get an abortion, but that was all he could find out. There was a big brass padlock on the Sun house. He visited the police station. In the past, he'd had drinks with the public security officer, Old Zhang. Zhang was chastising an old peasant who had been selling sesame oil, and had confiscated the man's little galvanized bucket and his basket.

"Grain and oil are goods that are bought and sold exclusively by the state. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, yes."

"Then why are you selling it? Don't you know it's against the law?"

"But I grew it in my own garden!"

"How can I tell if you grew it yourself or stole it from the production brigade?"

"If you don't believe me, then go and ask!"

"Ask who?"

"Ask in the village, the brigade leader knows."

"All right, all right, get the brigade leader to write a note and then come to collect these things!"

"Comrade, let me off this time, I won't sell it again, all right?"

"The state has laws about this!"

The old man squatted on his heels, refusing to budge. While he sat watching all this, he finished smoking a cigarette and thought it was unlikely that the matter would be resolved soon, so he got up and said he would come around some other time. However, Zhang was very polite, and stopped him to ask, "Did you want to see me about something?"

"I'd like to find out about the case of my student Sun Huirong," he said.

"The dossier is right here; if you want to, take it and have a look. Even if you are a teacher, you can't do anything in these matters. She's a local girl, and there are many more such happenings with girl students who have come from elsewhere. If the person and the parents don't make a legal complaint, and no one is killed, every effort is made not to take matters any further."

Zhang opened the document cupboard, found a dossier folder, and handed it to him, saying, "Take it with you, the case is already closed."

He examined every scrap of paper in the dossier. There were handwritten records of the separate testimonies of Sun and Hunchback. Hunchback had his thumbprint to his, and Sun had both signed and put her thumbprint on hers. There was also a record of the interrogation of Hunchback's wife. Attached to it, was a letter in a girlish handwriting, written to Hunchback. It had been written on paper torn from a student notebook, and there was a postmarked envelope addressed to the commune for a certain comrade who was Party secretary of Zhao Village Brigade: Hunchback's name was written there. The letter started off with "Dear Elder Brother." Hunchback was over fifty, but the girl was not yet an adult. There were only two lines in the letter, but the gist of it was as follows: I love my elder brother but it is impossible for me to see him. What happened has ended like this, but I will never have regrets. The word for "regret" had been written incorrectly, but the letter clearly bore Sun Huirong's signature, and it was dated after the matter had become public.

The record of the interrogation of Hunchback's wife said: "That slut seduced my man, the shameless hussy even wrote him a letter. The little whore only wanted to get herself merit points so that she would be able to get a work permit." Hunchback's wife had intercepted the letter and was so angry that she delivered it to the commune! However, the matter became a problem because of Dr. Wang at the commune health clinic. The record of the interrogation of Dr. Wang stated that the girl's mother had begged him to come to her home to induce an abortion. She said that if the girl went to the clinic to have it done, the whole neighborhood would know, then how would the girl find a husband later on? Dr. Wang said that he did not do illegal work like that. If word got out that he had not followed proper procedures and had privately carried out an abortion, how would he be able to continue in his profession? What was more, wouldn't rumors spread through the village and people think that he was involved with the girl himself? Dr. Wang put it quite bluntly that he was not going to do anything illegal.

How the matter came to be public was not mentioned in the materials on the investigation. Hunchback's testimony was very simple: Rape? Rubbish! He never did wicked things like that! It wasn't just his wife, sons, and daughters, that he'd have to face, how would he be able to face going on being Party secretary? Also, he couldn't sabotage the Red Flag Brigade, and he had to live up to the expectations of the various levels of leaders of the Party who had nurtured him over the years! This girl student is cunning, don't be fooled by the fact that she is young, her scheming is very adult. She was clearly inside, taking a bath, and there is nothing wrong with taking a bath. But the latch is on the inside, and the door is very solid, so if she didn't open the door herself, how could someone charge in? If she wasn't willing, why didn't she scream? How many times did it happen? Best ask her, every time it was in her bed! It wasn't in the fields. Now, can such a big latch drop off by itself? If she'd been raped, why didn't she report it earlier instead of waiting until her belly started to get big? She was trying to get a work permit, and you can't blame her, what young student doesn't want to get a job instead of working a lifetime in the fields? If a person wants merit points for a work permit, it's not an offense to give a gratuity now and then. It's the same for everyone, the brigade can only make a recommendation, it's the commune that issues the permit, he can't, can he?

As to Sun's own testimony, it was a thick wad of paper. They had interrogated her in great detail, from the cheap bath soap she used to how she was taken all wet to her bed behind the pile of hay. The interrogation could not have been more detailed, and amounted to her having been raped yet another time. The verdict on the case read: "It was the capitalist thinking of the young educated girl that was playing havoc, so she was not satisfied with working as a peasant. She should be transferred from the brigade to do manual labor in another commune, and her thought-reform should be intensified." The Party's verdict on Hunchback read: "Decadent lifestyle, bad influence on society, but the memory of the Party is more severe than punishment. For the time being, position to be retained, but subsequent behavior to be observed."

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