Category: Chinese character

Category about Chinese literature and language. It collects entries from the blog "Chinese Character", which merged with "The Deserted Island" in September 2018.

Stories from the suburbs: marginality and hope in Beijing

Where By sifuroIn 3 stars , Chinese character , BooksLeave a comment

Today I'm talking about a book called Historias del extrarradio , published by Automàtica Editorial. The author is Xu Zechen, a Chinese writer who has a younger and more current voice than the authors you usually find on this blog, such as Yu Hua or Yan Lianke .

I had already had my first contact with this author when I read Running through Beijing in English. I remember that reading it left me with a slightly strange feeling, perhaps because of the translation. I often find that translations from Chinese to English are not very flexible, a bit garbled, and on that occasion it made the text seem more like a documentary than a literary work. In that case, the story focused on characters who sold fake CDs and the language didn't really give me much. On the other hand, this Spanish edition of Historias del extrarradio has convinced me much more and has reconciled me with the author.

The struggle for survival in marginal Beijing

In this book, Xu Zechen tells the story of Mu Yu, a seventeen-year-old boy from a small village. Like so many other young Chinese, Mu Yu seeks to make a life for himself in the big city (in this case, Beijing), where in theory there are more opportunities. The problem is that in China, changing residence is highly regulated and moving from rural to urban to the wild means becoming, in practice, an illegal citizen.

So, Mu Yu settles in Beijing and lives in a small house with several companions who are also in a precarious situation. His work is curious and clandestine: putting up advertisements everywhere to promote his uncle's business, who is a document forger. The book is built through prints and stories that have Mu Yu as a common link and that are not independent stories, but must be read all of them to understand this choral chronicle about urban marginality.

I think one of the reasons I liked this book so much is the translation by Belén Cuadra Mora . It is so well done that it reads with total fluidity, as if it were the original text (yes, that's what they teach us in college, but it's not always achieved). Thanks to this rich and elaborate style, we enter a Beijing full of street vendors, characters on the margins of the system and dangerous situations that show the less friendly side of Chinese growth.

Conclusion

"Historias del extrarradio" is a very vivid portrait of the Chinese capital. If you are planning to go there or you like urban geography, I recommend reading it with Google Maps next to it, as the author mentions specific streets and neighborhoods that will help you situate yourself in the plot. In fact, it was like going back there!

In short, it is a highly recommended read to discover a young and powerful voice in current Chinese literature that knows how to explain social reality through quality fiction.

Essential Chinese Literature

Where By sifuroIn 5 stars , Chinese character , BooksLeave a comment

As you may already know, I'm a translator. Although I also translate from Italian and French, my "official" working languages ​​are English and Chinese (I don't translate much from the latter). That's why I'm very interested in all the literature that comes to us from this language.

The origin of this entry is an Instagram post where I try, in very little space, to give four guidelines for anyone who wants to delve into Chinese literature. The lack of space complicates life, but it is also true that it has forced me to choose the books and authors that I consider truly essential to introduce oneself to this literature. It must also be said that, although it is a choice with which I suppose many experts in the field would agree, some aspects may be more personal (especially the comments I make about one author or another) because, in the end, reader tastes are a very subjective thing.

To facilitate the guide, I have created three large categories. I think they are three fairly clear divisions, designed to make it easier for the reader to choose. I have not gone into much detail in the explanations because on this same blog I already have entries about most writers and books, so I have preferred to provide you with links that will take you to the entries that interest you most and that way we do not load this article with redundant information. Let's go!

Great classics

Books from before the fall of the imperial regime in China, which have had a great influence on their culture and are quoted everywhere. The first two have been made into series and adaptations, and Journey to the West , specifically, is the origin of the Dragon Ball series (no joke: Son Goku = Sun Wukong). They are all great books with great translations into Spanish and, despite their age, they continue to be valid and interesting today:

Classics from the first half of the 20th century

From here we change perspective and refer to authors, not specific books: we enter times when writers diversify their production and we have several books to choose from in each case. We will therefore talk about three of the main authors of the first half of the 20th century. They experienced the change of regime in China and the renewal of literary genres, to the point that the first, Lu Xun, is considered the father of modern Chinese literature. All three have their own entry on this blog, so I leave you the link and some book suggestions:

  • Lu Xun : Diary of a Madman and Other Stories (1984 Editions)
  • Lao She : Cat Country (dystopian sci-fi), Mr. Ma and Son (neither is in Catalan or Spanish)
  • Ba Jin : Family , Cold Nights (both in Vienna Circle)

Essential contemporaries

The first two in this category have enough quality, variety and production to be noble: Yan Lianke is more formal (although she also writes stories that can reach the absurd), while Yu is more "hooligan" and has a great sense of humor. Yiyun Li is wonderful and writes in English from the diaspora (and I think she shines especially with her stories), while Bi Feiyu is a shame that she doesn't publish more and that she isn't translated much into Catalan or Spanish. I also include Can Xue, who has just landed on the literary market in our country: pure surrealism not suitable for all tastes. Finally, I close the list with the revelation of recent times in Catalan: Wu Ming-yi, representative of Taiwanese literature.

  • Yan Lianke : The Dream of the Ding People (The Other Herbs), Chronicle of an Explosion (@automatica_editorial)
  • Yu Hua : The Past and the Punishments (The Weeds), Brothers (Seix Barral)
  • Yiyun Li : Golden Boy, Emerald Girl (Bromera), In Nature Things Simply Grow (L'altra Editorial)
  • Bi Feiyu : Trois soeurs (I think in Spanish it would be Las feroces hermanas Wang , but it is not a direct translation from Chinese)
  • Can Xue : The Ballad of the Mountain Birds (Gata maula), Red Leaves (Aristas Martínez)
  • Wu Ming-yi : The Man with Compound Eyes , The Land of Bitter Rain (both with Chronos Publishing)

And that's it (for now)

As I said at the beginning, the list could be longer: this is just a small taste for anyone who wants to enter the wonderful world of Chinese and Sinophone literature. On the other hand, I am not an academic on the subject, so what is here is not going to mass either. Take it as a small personal contribution to the attempt to spread this literature in our country. If you are curious about a specific author, do not hesitate to put it in the comments (this way it helps us all) or send me a direct email (if you have more personal questions).

In nature things simply grow, with Yiyun Li

Where By sifuroIn 3 stars , Chinese character , Books2 comments

He's only 15 years old, and his fingers are already longer than mine. No, you can't see it in the photo, but he's almost a hand's breadth away from me. He has his own ideas, and his own way of dressing. And he has a brother five years older, who's already on screen and is at university. They both have to bend down to give me a hug. They're Jordi and Guillem, and they're not that different from James and Vincent, Yiyun Li's children. Or rather, they are different: my children continue with their lives while hers are no longer there. By their own decision, too.

How do you feel when, of the two children you had, you have none left? When all you have left are rooms full of memories? When the dog doesn't know where to go to find its owner?

Children die, parents continue to live.

It shouldn't be like that. The "law of life" is different. The author herself says it, which statistically is a very rare case, but the fact is that, six years apart, Yiyun Li's two sons committed suicide. And she wanted to write a book for each of them. I have the one she dedicated to Vincent at home, and I couldn't finish it. Maybe now that I've read the one she dedicated to James, I'll go back to reading it.

Knowing what the book was about, I have to say that I picked up In Nature Things Simply Grow with a pack of Kleenex in my hand. And no, I didn't have to use it much. Why? Well, because Yiyun Li is able to convey sadness, perplexity, suffering, and all kinds of sensations, without having to resort to easy tears. She has a delicious pen, with which she is able to portray the scenario she wants without going through a convoluted text, without having to fill the book with adjectives and complex expressions. With a plain writing, she is able to communicate without her production being of a low level. Not everyone can do that. 

On Instagram I often read statements like "it's a hard book but necessary" applied to books that, often, I consider not so hard. This time I'll be the one to say that it's a hard book. This one is, The Diary of Anne Frank is. Because they explain real events, things that you can put a day and a night on. Is it a necessary book? That's the million-dollar question. I think it's very necessary for the author, who writes with amazing simplicity and integrity about an extremely sad and, in some places, taboo subject: the suicide of two children (and her own attempts). In this sense, I find it very necessary as a vehicle so that she, the person who has suffered it, can get her message across to us, and this message is surely necessary, or useful, for people who have been in the same situation and who, possibly, don't know how to express it so well. Maybe it will make them feel accompanied and understood.

In any case, it's a good read for me to reposition myself and to be able to resume the book she dedicated to her eldest son, Vincent. And, now that I understand her better, I will be able to resume the reading path she has always guided me along with great success. For this reason, I am very grateful to L'altra editorial for sending it to me and, above all, for deciding to publish it.

If you are interested in this author and want to learn more about her, check out the talk about women writers we gave at the Confucius Institute a while ago (in 2018!!!). We talk about her starting at minute 56 (link in bio), and we touch on other authors like Sanmao, Amy Tan and others. Don't hesitate to read this or any other book by her, which you will find reviewed on this blog.

“Taiwan Travelogue”: fiction, translation and memory under the colonial yoke

Where By sifuroIn 4 stars , Chinese characterLeave a comment

It is difficult to classify Yang Shuang-zi's Taiwan Travelogue . It is not just a novel set in occupied Taiwan in 1938, nor a travelogue, nor a work about power relations. It is all of these and more: a metaliterary artifact that plays with the notion of translation, with the figure of the absent author, and with the fragility of historical memory. And, as if that were not enough, Lin King's English translation received the 2024 National Book Award for Translated Literature, which has contributed to projecting this author's voice internationally.

The (fictional) novel we are reading is, in fact, an alleged translation of a Japanese work written by Aoyama Chizuko, a young Japanese author sent by the colonial government to make a lecture tour of the island. There she meets O Chizuru (or Wang Chien-ho in Mandarin Chinese), a Taiwanese teacher who works as an interpreter. The story is based on the relationship (toxic force) that is established between them, marked by a strong asymmetry: on the one hand, Chizuko, egocentric, capricious and indulgent; on the other, Chizuru, cautious, reserved, almost submissive.

But what makes this work such a unique project is its narrative construction. The text opens with an “introduction” signed by Hiyoshi Sagako, a fictional academic who claims to be wansheng (Japanese by blood but born in Taiwan under the colonial regime). She tells us, bluntly, that wānshēng are “ghosts without a home or caste” and that only ghosts have access to certain perspectives. This introduction, which acts as a paratext, tells us how we should read the work: not as a direct testimony, but as a half-baked fiction, probably full of lies, written years later by an author who wanted to rewrite herself and give meaning to an experience that had overcome her.

In this sense, Taiwan Travelogue connects with other works of contemporary Taiwanese literature that address colonial memory from a fictional perspective (perhaps Wu Ming-yi?), but with an additional layer: the game of mirrors between author, translator, interpreter and protagonist. The act of translating (and rewriting) becomes here a tool of power, but also a form of symbolic revenge. If Chizuko represents the colonial voice that speaks (and seduces), Chizuru is the voice that interprets, that negotiates.

Literally, the novel stands out for its attention to detail, especially in the culinary realm: Taiwanese and Japanese dishes are compared, described, and even some recipes are sneaked in. Gastronomy becomes another space of tension and cultural exchange. But beyond the food, what really strikes is the ambiguous tone, the lack of certainties, and the constant questioning of what we read.

An intelligent and uncomfortable novel, recommended for readers accustomed to reading between the lines and walking the margins of fiction. If you are interested in literature that interrogates history from the point of view of invention, Taiwan Travelogue is a good read.

Taipei People: nostalgia and identity with Pai Hsien-yung

Where By sifuroIn 2 stars , Chinese character , BooksLeave a comment

Reading Taipei People by Pai Hsien-yung has been an interesting challenge. I was lucky enough to share this reading with a small group of Chinese experts, and their contributions were very enriching. I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit (I have a very ambivalent relationship with stories) and, if I had read it alone, I might not have finished it. This book, a collection of fourteen stories, takes us into the lives of a group of characters marked by exile and loss, all of them Chinese who, after the Civil War, settled in Taipei, trying to rebuild their lives in an environment that does not quite belong to them.

Nostalgia is a central element of these stories. The protagonists are intellectuals, disgraced aristocrats, courtesans, former soldiers and displaced bourgeois who look back with a mixture of melancholy and resignation. Taipei is for them a refuge, but also a space of disconnection, where their roots are left in suspense, trapped in a land they can never fully inhabit again. The author portrays this reality with detailed prose, capable of conveying both the decadence of the world they leave behind and the difficulty of finding their place in the present.

One of the things that has caught my attention the most about this work is its ability to build environments and recreate atmospheres with a wealth of details that you can almost breathe. Pai Hsien-yung knows how to make you feel the humidity of the streets of Taipei and the dull elegance of those who were once powerful and now survive in a world that no longer belongs to them. But, at the same time, I must confess that towards the end it got a little tiring. The characters share the same kind of melancholy, a feeling of loss that is repeated in each story, and this has meant that I have not been able to fully connect with it. It is an experience that has reminded me of the literature of Eileen Chang, where themes and sensibilities are often repeated that, at times, can make reading monotonous.

The author and his legacy

The author, son of a high-ranking Kuomintang commander, experienced this displacement firsthand and his work is deeply influenced by this experience. Trained in Hong Kong and then in the United States, Pai Hsien-yung is one of the most important voices in contemporary Chinese literature. In fact, one of the stories in this collection ended up serving as the embryo for his best-known novel, Crystal Boys , a pioneering work in the portrayal of the lives of young homosexuals in Taipei.

In short, Taipei People is a deeply evocative book that transports us to a world full of nuances and makes us reflect on the fragility of identity when it is shaken by exile. It is a read that I recommend, above all, to those looking for literature that explores memory and loss through beautiful and detailed prose.