In Search of One’s Self

In the ambit of literature, China has, without a doubt, one of the most extensive and deepest literary scenes. It cannot be denied that, with its long literary tradition, Chinese literature is one of the major literatures in the world. With an unbroken history that spans over three millennia – the earliest archeological records show that Chinese literature already existed as far back as the 1700 BC – Chinese literature has a legacy that is incomparable. It also holds the distinction of having literature that was written in a single language; variations were few and rare in between. Coexisting under this vast umbrella are different forms of literature that include works of poetry, prose, historical texts, and drama, among others. Incorporated into these works are elements of philosophy, drama, and even the visual arts.

With this long tradition, Chinese literature has produced some of the world’s most important and most studied literary works, the most prominent of which are collectively referred to as the Four Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature. These are Luo Guanzhong’s Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義, Sānguó Yǎnyì), Shi Nai’an’s Water Margin (水滸傳, Shuǐhǔ Zhuàn), Wu Cheng’en Journey to the West (西遊記, Xī Yóu Jì), and Cao Xueqin Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢, Hónglóu Mèng) or The Story of the Stone (石頭記, Shitou Ji). A modern variation cited two more novels – Lanling Xiaoxiao Sheng’s The Plum in the Golden Vase or The Golden Lotus (金瓶梅, Jīn Píng Méi) and Wu Jingzi’s The Scholars (儒林外史, Rúlín Wàishǐ) – among the most important tomes of classic Chinese literature.

These six novels were published pre-19th century but they remain relevant in the contemporary, underlining the deep influence of Chinese literature. Chinese literature transcends time and borders. Contemporary Chinese writers are keeping the tradition alive by writing timely and relevant literary pieces that incorporate major elements that Chinese literature is traditionally known for while weaving their own distinct voices and styles. The translation of works of Chinese literature also made it accessible to other parts of the world. Some of these works and writers have gained global recognition. For instance, a couple months ahead of the awarding of the Nobel Prize in Literature but betting sites are tipping Deng Xiaohua, writing under the pseudonym Can Xue (残雪, Cán Xuě) as the possible awardee.

“You regret not fixing a tie to see her again, you regret not chasing after her, you regret your lack of courage, not getting her to stay, not chatting her up, not being more forward, and that there will not be a wonderful liaison. To sum it up, you regret losing the opportunity. You don’t suffer from insomnia but you sleep badly the whole night. You’re up early, think it’s all ridiculous and luckily you hadn’t been rash. That sort of rash behaviour damages one’s self-esteem. But then you destest yourself for being too rational.””

~ Gao Xingjian, Soul Mountain

Speaking of the Nobel Prize in Literature, despite the prestigious literary award’s long history, it was not only recently that a Chinese writer was given the award. Prior to 2000, the only Chinese writers nominated for the award were Hu Shih (1939, 1957) and Lin Yutang (1940, 1950, 1970, 1972), and Shih Robert (Shi Jieyun, 1971). In 2000, the Swedish Academy – known for its eclectic and, at times, whimsical choice of awardees – announced Gao Xingjian as the recipient of the prestigious award, often considered the highest literary award any writer can aim for. A pioneer of the Chinese absurdist drama, he was recognized by the Swedish Academy “for an œuvre of universal validity, bitter insights and linguistic ingenuity, which has opened new paths for the Chinese novel and drama”. While the announcement came as a surprise, it was a breakthrough win that opened doors for Chinese writers; Mo Yan, another Chinese writer, would be awarded the Prize in 2012.

In its citation of Xingjian’s literary legacy, the Swedish Academy singled out one of his novels, 靈山 (Língshān), as the most representative of his body of work. It was originally published in 1990 in Chinese before it was made available to anglophone readers in December 2000 as Soul Mountain; the book was first translated into Swedish in 1992 and French in 1995. Gao’s most popular work chronicled the story of two anonymous characters. The first of these two characters, simply referred to as “you” – the characters populating the novel were referred to using pronouns such as “I”, “you”, and “she” among others – opened the proceedings. After a twelve-hour journey in an old bus, he finally arrived in a remote mountain country town in the south of China.

“You” was a man of the city, born and raised in the bustling metropolis. He spent the majority of his life soaking in the urban sprawl. As he grew older, the demands of fast-paced urban living left him longing for something. The tedious city life left him reflecting on what kind of life he wanted to have for the rest of his life. His weariness led him to embark on a journey to the Chinese countryside, with the goal of finding the elusive titular “Lingshan”, a sacred mountain: “Lingshan, ling meaning spirit or soul, and shan meaning mountain.” His search can also be attributed to an innate adventurous soul that was obscured by the urban bedlam. Already in his middle age, “You” refused to submit to the idea of living a “peaceful and stable existence”, a mundane existence defined by “a not-too-demanding sort of a job, stay in a mediocre position, become a husband and a father, set up a comfortable home, put money in the bank and add to it every month so there’ll be something for old age and a little left over the next generation.”

The second narrator, on the other hand, was referred to as “I”. “I” was a writer and an academic. “I” embarked on a journey akin to that of “You”. Prior to his journey, “I” was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. The shocking diagnosis had a sobering effect that made “I” reflect on his life; lung cancer claimed the life of “I”‘s father who died within three months of the diagnosis. The news came as a shock. He begged for a miracle and even offered prayers to deities and supernatural beings he did not believe in. But as soon as the panic set at the thought of imminent death, a series of follow-up examinations and X-rays negated the prognosis. It was a misdiagnosis. It was a reprieve and “I” breathed a sigh of relief. He was, in effect, given a second chance to live.

“At first I thought I had a charming smile, then I thought the smile at the corners of the eyes was rather of scorn, arrogance, and indifference, all deriving from self-love, self-adoration, and a sense of superiority. But there was also an anxiety which betrayed acute loneliness, and fleeting snatches of terror – certainly not a winner – and a bitterness which stifled the common smile of unthinking happiness and doubled that sort of happiness. This was very scary, it was like a void, a sense of falling without somewhere to land, and I didn’t want to go on looking at the photo.”

~ Gao Xingjian, Soul Mountain

Handed a second lease at life, “I” did not waste time. The close shave with death also aroused in “I” a new determination to experience adventure and to live: “I don’t know whether I’m now on the right track but in any case, I’ve extracted myself from the bustling literary world and have also escaped from my smoke-filled room.” With the intention of experiencing life on the banks of the Yangtze River, “I” embarked on a journey to Sichuan, a province in southwestern China. It was during his journey that he first heard about a mystical place called the Soul Mountain. Like “You”, “I” set out to locate this mystical place that has tickled his imagination.

As the two unnamed characters pursued their journey to locate the elusive Soul Mountain, what unraveled was an intimate and vivid portrait of life in the Chinese countryside. The two characters navigated thick vegetation, woodlands, and even wildlife reserves. Their wandering also made them encounter people from all walks of life. Along the way, they collected stories, folklore, folk poetry, and legends, the fragments of which would form the backbone of the novel. Providing them these accounts was an interesting ensemble of locals and fellow travelers who shared their lives with them. Among those they encountered is a monk, a botanist, the warden of a nature reserve, a peasant, a carpenter, and a former master of traditional songs and dances. Each of the individuals the wandering characters imparted a bit of their piece of wisdom.

It was also through the people they encountered that the unnamed characters, and by extension, the readers, learned about the changing Chinese landscape. For one, we read about the impact of the Cultural Revolution (1962-1976). For instance, old art forms were purged but some old masters are trying to revive them. Gap was himself a victim of the Cultural Revolution when he was persecuted as a public intellect and sent to a reeducation camp. He was also forced to burn most of his early works. He did not let this experience preclude him from writing more politically critical works which were eventually deemed subversive by the Chinese regime. The increasing pressure from the regime prompted Xingjian to settle down in France. Following the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, Xingjian officially severed his ties with the Chinese Communist Party.

All over the story, the Communist Party’s imprints were stamped. Even the characters used this brand of bureaucracy. For instance, they used their Writers Association card in order to gain special privileges in the remote villages they visited. They were rarely questioned; China’s vastness and decentralization allowed them these windows of opportunity. As the wanderers were meeting more people, they were also learning their relationship with the land. Through their lenses, the readers learn how China’s flora and fauna have been adversely affected by fast-paced development that went unchecked. Incessant logging and damming drastically changed the landscape. Only remote and inaccessible ancient rain forests remained while the rest were destroyed in the name of progress. Towns and cities were also inundated.

“To lose images is to lose space and to lose sound is to lose language. When moving the lips can’t produce sounds what is being expressed is incomprehensible, although at the core of consciousness the fragment of the desire tp express will remain. If this fragment of desire cannot be retained there will be a return to silence.”

~ Gao Xingjian, Soul Mountain

The novel also provided a window into which the rest of the world can take a peek at a side of China that is rarely shown. Amidst the chaos that swirled around them, the wanderers were able to witness the beauty of the Chinese countryside, its people, and its culture. They discover the allure of the very core of China beyond its size and diversity. They were captivated by the virginal beauty of nature, of the Chinese landscape, untouched by human influences. As the narrators immerse in local culture, so do the readers. Soul Mountain was as much a personal and philosophical odyssey as a travelogue. These various elements were further complemented by the descriptive quality of Gao’s writing and storytelling.

Soul Mountain, however, is no easy read. It is a mixture of various elements which often results in an overall fragmented reading experience. The convergence of memories, travel diaries, and folklore resulted in a story that had the tendency to meander. It had no formal plot which can be attributed to the fact that the book was a personal and intimate account. As the novel moved forward, it was increasingly palpable that “You” and “I” were one and the same person. They were also the alter-egos of the writer and the story was largely based on his own experience. In 1986, Gao was diagnosed with lung cancer which was later proven to be a misdiagnosis a couple of weeks later. Thrown back into the world of the “living”, Gao must confront the pressures from the Communist Party which deemed his plays and works as subversive. His troubling experiences prompted him to undertake a ten-month trek along the Yangtze River.

Part-social commentary, part travelogue, part-philosophical musings, part memoir, Gao’s first book to be translated into English, Soul Mountain proved to be a multi-layered and multi-faceted literary masterpiece. The novel probed into the depths of the human soul which the narrators accomplished while collecting stories, songs, and folklore. In doing so, Gao was also providing the readers an intimate portrait of the Chinese countryside, its landscape, and its people while grappling with seminal and timely subjects such as environmental preservation, politics, sexuality, and meditation. Not only is the story about finding one’s self but Soul Mountain is also a story about reconnecting with one’s past, nature, and the larger world beyond our comfort zones.

As the story grappled with the most important question – that of the endless pursuit of one’s soul, of one’s self – it slowly dawned on the narrators that the titular Soul Mountain is not a physical place. It was a eureka moment for the weary travelers. As a monk the wanderer encountered summed up: “Existence is returning; non-existence is returning; so don’t stay by the river getting blown about by the cold wind.”

“I would rather drift here and there without leaving traces. There are so many people in this big wide world and so many places to visit but there is nowhere for me to put down roots, to have a sall refuge, to live a simple life. I always encounter the same sort of neighbors, say the same sort of things, good morning or hello, and once again I am embroiled in endless daily trivia. Even before this becomes solidly entrenched, I will already have tired of it all. I know there is no cure for me.”

~ Gao Xingjian, Soul Mountain
Ratings

73%

Characters (30%) – 23%
Plot (30%) – 20%
Writing (25%) – 18%
Overall Impact (15%) – 12%

In the mid-2010s, one of the books that I kept encountering was Gao Xingjian’s Soul Mountain. Sure, it said on the cover that the book was written by a Nobel Laureate in Literature but, back then, this barely piqued my interest; I wasn’t as interested in the Nobel Prize in Literature back then as I am now. I would eventually relent and purchase the book – it was too persistent – but, unfortunately, the book was left to gather dust on my bookshelf before I made it part of my foray into Asian literature last August 2022. I was initially daunted by the book’s length, followed by my lack of forays into Gao’s oeuvre. Nevertheless, I persevered. It did take me some time before I got my footing into the story. It was complex and I found the parallel storylines and narrators a little confusing. And then the narrative started to unravel and what prevailed was an intimate and adventurous account that transported me across rural China. Soul Mountain, however, is not for everyone. It is certainly not an easy read but getting lost in its labyrinth can be worthwhile.

Book Specs

Author: Gao Xingjian
Translator (from Chinese): Mabel Lee
Publisher: Flamingo
Publishing Date: 2001 (1990)
Number of Pages: 509
Genre: Literary, Postmodernism

Synopsis

In 1983, Chinese playwright, critic, fiction writer, and painter Gao Xingjian was diagnosed with lung cancer and faced imminent death. But six weeks later, a second examination revealed there was no cancer — he had won “a second reprieve from death.” Faced with a repressive cultural environment and the threat of a spell in a prison farm, Gao fled Beijing and began a journey of 15,000 kilometers into the remote mountains and ancient forests of Sichuan in southwest China. The result of this epic voyage of discovery is Soul Mountain.

Bold, lyrical, and prodigious, Soul Mountain probes the human soul with an uncommon directness and candor and delights in the freedom of the imagination to expand the notion of the individual self.

About the Author

Gao Xingjian ((高行健, Kao Hsing-chien) was born on January 4, 1940, in Ganzhou, Jiangxi province in eastern China. Following the end of the Second World War, Gao’s family returned to Nanjing where he entered the Nanjing Number 10 Middle School (later renamed Jinling High School). Following his graduation, Gao, with his mother’s advice, chose Beijing Foreign Studies University (BFSU) over the Central Academy of Fine Arts despite his artistic inclinations. He graduated with a degree in French and started working for the Chinese International Bookstore (中國國際書店).

During the Cultural Revolution, Gao was persecuted as an intellectual and was sent to a reeducation camp in Anhui where he was forced to do hard labor for six years. He was also forced to destroy all his early works. Following his reeducation, Gao was allowed to return to Beijing where he was assigned by the government to work at the Foreign Languages Press. He headed the French translation for the magazine China Reconstructs (中國建設). However, Gao was not allowed to publish his work or travel abroad until 1979. In 1980, Gao started working as a screenwriter and playwright for the Beijing People’s Art Theatre where he became recognized for being a pioneer of the Chinese absurdist drama. Among the dramas written and produced during his term were 絕對信號 (Signal Alarm, 1982) and 車站 (Bus Stop, 1983). His other plays include 野人 (Wild Man, 1985) and 彼岸 (The Other Shore, 1986), with the latter famously banned by the regime.

It was also during the 1980s that Gao became more active as a writer, with his short stories and essays appearing in literary magazines in China. His novella 寒夜的星辰 (Constellation in a Cold Night, 1979) was warmly received. He also wrote 現代小說技巧初探 (Preliminary Explorations Into the Art of Modern Fiction, 1981) and 有隻鴿子叫紅唇兒 (A Pigeon Called Red Beak, 1985). With his growing popularity came the growing scrutiny of the Chinese regime. The growing pressure on Gao prompted him to move permanently to Bagnolet, a city adjacent to Paris, France. Following his exile, he wrote the play 逃亡 (Fugitives, 1989), a play set during the Tiananmen Square massacre of June 4, 1989, which angered the Chinese government. Gao’s works were immediately banned from performance in China and he was declared persona non grata. Gao responded by severing his ties with the Chinese Communist Party.

A year after severing ties with the Communist Party, Gao published his most renowned work 靈山 (Soul Mountain). The book was first published in Taipei before it was published in Swedish in 1992 by Göran Malmqvist, a member of the Swedish Academy and a close friend of the author. Soul Mountain was singled out by the Swedish Academy when they awarded Gao the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2000, making him the first Chinese writer to earn the recognition. Gao’s body of work also earned him several accolades from different parts of the world. Among them are the 1985 DAAD Fellowship (Germany), the 1989 Asian Cultural Council Fellowship (United States), and the 1992 Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (France). Post-Nobel Prize, he won the 2000 Premio Letterario Feronia (Italy) and the 2002 Golden Plate Award of the American Academy of Achievement.

Gao also received honorary doctorates from prestigious universities such as the Chinese University of Hong Kong (2001), National Sun Yat-sen University (2001), National Chiao Tung University (2002), and National Taiwan University (2005). Gao is also a painter and has published works of poetry.