Two weeks ago we reviewed the autobiography of one of China's foremost translators, Yang Xianyi. Last week we looked at a new biography of the now classic Chinese author, Lu Xun. To complete the triptych, here is Yang Xianyi's translation (in collaboration with his wife Gladys Yang) of Lu Xun's best-known piece of fiction, The True Story of Ah Q.
In his introduction, David Pollard (the author of the above-mentioned biography of Lu Xun) compares The True Story of Ah Q to George Orwell's 1984 and Joseph Heller's Catch 22 as books that have etched themselves into the consciousness of entire nations. It was, he says, the most influential book that Lu Xun ever produced.
The story dates from 1921. The pigtail, or queue, symbolizing loyalty to the Manchu dynasty, had by then been outmoded for a decade. But it had always been felt to represent traditional Chineseness and, in giving his central character the name Ah Q, Lu was using a Western letter that looked like a head with a queue, and coincidentally was in English a pun on the queue itself. Ah Q, then, personified the outmoded China of old that Lu Xun was so anxious to satirize.
This book represents what is a common strategy in revolutionary times. We have been oppressed, the argument goes, and must rise up and claim our rights and our legitimate heritage. What is stopping us? One of the problems is certain aspects of our national character. In recent eras we have become lethargic, self-pitying, easy victims of fantasies that other things will come to our assistance rather than the bold remodeling of our society which is the only real remedy.
The True Story of Ah Q falls into exactly this category. Consequently it is somewhat inappropriate for foreigners to expatiate too long on its subject matter. In our mouths these sort of things assume the character of racist stereotyping. Moreover, even Lu Xun wouldn't have claimed that the Chinese character he depicts represented some eternal truth. The book was, rather, a tactical maneuver adopted to goad his people into coming to their senses, accepting reforms, and adopting the lineaments of a modern, 20th century society.
Ah Q is an odd-job man in a small country town, and in these episodes from his life he comes in addition to inhabit the role of a burlesque clown. His shortcomings are those of all fools, you are meant to feel, while at the same time representing something more -- the pitfalls all Chinese of its period were in danger of falling into if they didn't pull themselves together and live a more rational life.
Revolution against imperial rule finally comes to Ah Q's town, and then he dreams of becoming one of the new local rulers. He also gets involved in petty theft. In the end, however, he is executed by a revolutionary tribunal simply because he can't think of anything to say when accused of being guilty of the one robbery he happened not to have taken part in.
In all truth it has to be said that this little book doesn't set the imagination on fire these days. No doubt there is more to it when seen from a Chinese perspective, but to a Westerner it has the character of so many Asian folk tales, quaint and curious, but after a few pages a bit of a yawn. This review, therefore, will not praise its readability, but instead record the re-publication of what is from a historical point of view undoubtedly a significant text.
The book was for a long time banned in Taiwan. Not only had its author been accorded classic status by the communists, but the tale also mocked many traditional Chinese assumptions. Taiwan's KMT, in its early days at least, was desperate to preserve and venerate everything of the old China that was disappearing so fast on the other side of the Taiwan Strait.
The story, then, though a classic, is unfortunately unlikely to appeal to foreigners, and probably has little interest to most modern Taiwanese either. If someone were to pen a sequel set among contemporary teenagers featuring piercings, crazy haircuts and outlandishly small mobile phones, that would be a different matter.
Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang were responsible for translating Lu Xun's Selected Works in four volumes 40 years ago. The selection was published in Beijing between 1959 and 1960, and The True Story of Ah Q was certain to have been included. Whether the English text of this new edition is merely a reprint of that version or a new rendering by the same authors is open to question.
There is no answer provided in the various credits printed following the book's title page. All we have is a publisher's note that states that in preparing their Bilingual Series on Modern Chinese Literature the committee responsible has either "to identify the best existing translations, or to commission experts who can do the job well." Which alternative they have opted for here isn't revealed.
This new publication by Hong Kong's Chinese University Press is a bilingual edition, with the traditional characters of the original Chinese version retained. A similar bilingual edition, but using simplified Chinese characters, was published in Beijing two years ago.
The whole issue of the romanization of the Chinese script was a very important topic among China's would-be modernizers in the pre-World War II period. The difficulty of the traditional script, they argued, was a major obstacle to the spread of education in a country where most of the people were illiterate. Lu Xun backed the most radical of the various schemes for romanization, but in the event the more moderate argument, for a simplification of the old Chinese script, prevailed. This is what the post-1949 government in Beijing adopted.
A wit might like to point out that the KMT, on regrouping on Taiwan, opted for none of these changes, but instead for the 12-hour school day to make sure their long-suffering offspring mastered the traditional system. And it is of course to everyone's credit that they have.
The problem with Marx’s famous remark that history repeats itself, first as tragedy, the second time as farce, is that the first time is usually farce as well. This week Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) made a pilgrimage to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) “to confer, converse and otherwise hob-nob” with Chinese Communist Party (CCP) officials. The visit was an instant international media hit, with major media reporting almost entirely shorn of context. “Taiwan’s main opposition leader landed in China Tuesday for a rare visit aimed at cross-strait ‘peace’”, crowed Agence-France Presse (AFP) from Shanghai. Rare!
What is the importance within the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) of the meeting between Xi Jinping (習近平), the leader Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), the leader of the KMT? Local media is an excellent guide to determine how important — or unimportant — a news event is to the public. Taiwan has a vast online media ecosystem, and if a news item is gaining traction among readers, editors shift resources in near real time to boost coverage to meet the demand and drive up traffic. Cheng’s China trip is among the top headlines, but by no means
Sunflower movement superstar Lin Fei-fan (林飛帆) once quipped that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) could nominate a watermelon to run for Tainan mayor and win. Conversely, the DPP could run a living saint for mayor in Taipei and still lose. In 2022, the DPP ran with the closest thing to a living saint they could find: former Minister of Health and Welfare Chen Shih-chung (陳時中). During the pandemic, his polling was astronomically high, with the approval of his performance reaching as high as 91 percent in one TVBS poll. He was such a phenomenon that people printed out pop-up cartoon
The town of Jhihben (知本) in Taitung County is most well-known for its hot springs, but if you’re looking for an interesting nearby daytime excursion to complement an evening soak at your hotel, don’t miss the Jhihben National Forest Recreation Area (知本國家森林遊樂區). From the resort area, simply take Bus 8129 down to the last stop at the end of the main road and then walk across the bridge and turn left for the ticket gate. This bus can also be taken right from the Taitung Bus Station or from the Zhiben TR station, and runs approximately once an hour all day