Exploring Dark Short Fiction #5: A Primer to Han Song

By Eric J. Guignard, Han Song and Michael Arnzen

Considered one of the three most important voices in contemporary Chinese science fiction (along with Liu Cixin and Wang Jinkang), Han Song is a multiple recipient of the Chinese Galaxy Award (China's highest profile sci-fi prize), as well as the Chinese Nebula Award and Asian-Pacific Sci-fi Gravity Award. Song bridges new developments in scienc

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Moon Books
• Release date: Sep 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781949491173

Eric J. Guignard

ERIC J. GUIGNARD is a writer and editor of dark and speculative fiction, operating from the shadowy outskirts of Los Angeles, where he also runs the small press, Dark Moon Books. He's twice won the Bram Stoker Award, won the Shirley Jackson Award, and been a finalist for the World Fantasy Award and International Thriller Writers Award. He has over one hundred stories and non-fiction author credits appearing in publications around the world. As editor, Eric's published multiple fiction anthologies, including his most recent, PROFESSOR CHARLATAN BARDOT'S TRAVEL ANTHOLOGY TO THE MOST (FICTIONAL) HAUNTED BUILDINGS IN THE WEIRD, WILD WORLD and A WORLD OF HORROR, each a showcase of international horror short fiction. His latest books are LAST CASE AT A BAGGAGE AUCTION and the short story collection THAT WHICH GROWS WILD: 16 TALES OF DARK FICTION (Cemetery Dance). Outside the glamorous and jet-setting world of indie fiction, Eric's a technical writer and college professor, and he stumbles home each day to a wife, children, dogs, and a terrarium filled with mischievous beetles. Visit Eric at: www.ericjguignard.com, his blog: ericjguignard.blogspot.com, or Twitter: @ericjguignard.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

BY ERIC J. GUIGNARD

HAN SONG: A BIOGRAPHY

EARTH IS FLAT

EARTH IS FLAT: A COMMENTARY

TRANSFORMATION SUBWAY

TRANSFORMATION SUBWAY: A COMMENTARY

THE WHEEL OF SAMSARA

THE WHEEL OF SAMSARA: A COMMENTARY

TWO SMALL BIRDS

TWO SMALL BIRDS: A COMMENTARY

FEAR OF SEEING

FEAR OF SEEING: A COMMENTARY

MY COUNTRY DOES NOT DREAM

MY COUNTRY DOES NOT DREAM: A COMMENTARY

WHY HAN SONG MATTERS

IN CONVERSATION WITH HAN SONG

SENDING CHINESE SCIENCE FICTION OVERSEAS: A NEW DIALOGUE

AN ESSAY BY HAN SONG

A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF CHINESE AND ENGLISH FICTION FOR HAN SONG

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT EDITOR, ERIC J. GUIGNARD

ABOUT ACADEMIC, MICHAEL ARNZEN, PHD

ABOUT ILLUSTRATOR, MICHELLE PREBICH

ABOUT TRANSLATOR, NATHANIEL ISAACSON, PHD

INTRODUCTION

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BY ERIC J. GUIGNARD

NOT HAVING MET HAN SONG, I HAVE nevertheless developed an unshakable certainty of him through correspondence in email, and by reading his work, and in reading what others have written of him, and that certainty is this: Regardless of the environment, regardless of the occasion or location, regardless of if it were a group of two or two hundred, should you find yourself in company of Han Song, he will most assuredly be the smartest person in the room.

Song can speak to the advancements and predictions of technology. He theorizes on global business and politics. He explains social constructs and urban transformation of the now, and envisions those same concepts for the future, and he does all this for his day job, as journalist at the Xinhua News Agency.

Which is to say, I haven’t even begun to speak yet to his revered fiction writing . . .

Considered one of the three most important voices in contemporary Chinese science fiction (along with Liu Cixin and Wang Jinkang), Han Song is lauded for works that bridge new developments in science and subjects of cultural and social dynamics with stories of dystopia, governmental conspiracy, and subversive horror, earning praise for his writing as absurdly dark, while also reigniting a science fiction renaissance. As of writing this introduction (while in self-isolated quarantine during the 2020 COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic, speaking of absurdly dark situations), Han Song has seen published eighteen books of his fiction and non-fiction, as well as poetry, essays, and seven collections of short stories. Additionally, Song is also a multiple recipient of the Chinese Galaxy Award (China's highest profile sci-fi prize), as well as the Chinese Nebula Award and Asian-Pacific Sci-fi Gravity Award, and a plethora of other honors and accolades.

I first learned of Han Song by way of his peer Liu Cixin when, several years ago, former president of the United States of America Barack Obama shared the highest of praise for Cixin’s science fiction novel The Three-Body Problem. That announcement by Obama was a strange revelation to me, that one of the most important leaders in the world was actually this very avid fan of genre fiction literature and, apparently, he had a much broader spectrum of reading tastes than my own. It was also a dawning recognition of how little I knew of fiction writing in Asia, this cognizance that there was a whole other realm of speculative horror, and how China was promoting the genre fervidly, imparting a rich and multitudinous offering of monsters, mayhem, action, and redemption, and that I was completely missing out on all of it.

I wanted to rectify that lapse, although admittedly I’m just not much of a fan of hard science fiction. Personally, I prefer horror, dark fantasy, thrillers, adventures, etc., works that are as emotionally resonant as they are strange and profound. I started my search for Chinese authors of a darker bent, and came across an article in the Los Angeles Times describing Han Song as China’s premier science fiction writer, and, further, I learned that the term of Science Fiction in China incorporates horror as well (as there is not a separate distinction between the two genres), and it was said that of the top authors, none wrote darker, bleaker tales than Song. The first story of his that I read was The Wheel of Samsara, which astonished me—it was so beautiful, and grim, and mythological, and wrapped concisely into only 2,300+ words. I was hooked. After that I read the mournful tale of labor futility, Finished (translated by Nick Stember), and then the gloomy-yet-hopeful story, Security Check (translated by Ken Liu).

And I wanted more.

But the problem was (and still is), very little of Song’s work has been translated from Chinese into English. Thus began a journey I have never before trod, to arrange foreign language stories to be translated into English, in order to share with a wider audience the voice and message of Song’s writing. I was incredibly fortunate to gain the interest of Nathaniel Isaacson, PhD, a professor in North Carolina State University’s Chinese Studies department, who already had a working relationship with Song—having translated several of Song’s other stories—and, without whom, this project would not have been possible.

The length of time spent on this volume was a record two years (previous volumes average about nine months), but wholly worth the effort (as I hope you’ll agree!) to showcase Song’s work in Exploring Dark Short Fiction, as the fifth in a continuing series intended to celebrate modern masters of literary short fiction.

Following is merely a primer to Han Song, and I earnestly hope you’ll conclude wanting to search out more!

Midnight cheers,

—Eric J. Guignard

Chino Hills, California

May 2, 2020

HAN SONG: A BIOGRAPHY

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A JOURNALIST AT XINHUA NEWS AGENCY (China’s state-owned news service) by day, Han Song is a science fiction writer by night. He has become recognized as one of China’s three most important leading voices in the sci-fi genre, even while his work is often censored by the nation’s government for being subversive or too dark.

Born in 1965 in Chongqing, China, Han began writing science fiction in 1981, and the following year he represented his middle school at a sci-fi writing competition. Although not taking home any competition awards, the personal reward from that experience was much more gratifying and consequential by instilling in him the love of writing. Han went on to study at Wuhan University (1984–1991), graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English and a master’s degree in journalism, while also continuing to hone his skills in writing fiction. Subsequently his career led him to become an associate and then managing editor, as well as contributor, to the government-owned journal Liaowang Dongfang Zhoukan (Oriental Outlook Weekly), for which he often professionally writes on cultural and social dynamics, and new developments in science.

His first notable fiction success, Gravestone of the Universe (1991) appeared in a Taiwanese magazine, and was then swiftly banned in China for its tone being too dark. However, Han quickly followed that in the same year with Meteor, which was published in Science Fiction World, China’s largest magazine for the genre with its best single issue circulation topping 400,000 per month.

Since that time Han Song has published some nine novels, seven collections, numerous short stories and non-fiction articles, and all of it wide-ranging between science fiction to horror to literary to poetry to young adult.

Much of Han’s work is considered bleak or decidedly pessimistic, reflecting dark themes, such as clashes between Eastern and Western civilizations (specifically China and the United States) and the future decline of society. According to the China Daily, Han describes himself as a staunch nationalist at heart, and his work is critical of China’s desire to Westernize as fast as possible; he believes that fast-track development does not agree with core Asian values, and that adoption of the alien entities of science, technology, and modernization by the Chinese will turn them into monsters. Most of his works remain banned in mainland China.

Han has received the Chinese Galaxy Award for fiction six times, and been awarded multiple times the Xingyun Award for Global Chinese Science Fiction. The Los Angeles Times described him as China’s premier science fiction writer.

He notes some of his writing inspirations to include George Orwell, author of 1984; Mishma Yukio, the famous Japanese author of Temple of the Golden Pavilion; and Abe Kobo, writer of Woman in Dune.

Besides writing, Han also enjoys reading and traveling. He has traveled to the Antarctic and Arctic, and searched for the legendary Bigfoot in the forests of central China. He continues working as a news editor in Beijing and also writes fiction as much as time allows.

EARTH IS FLAT

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TRANSLATED BY NATHANIEL ISAACSON, PhD

I’VE COME TO THE AMERICAS TO TRAVEL. In Manhattan, New York, there is a monument to Christopher Columbus.

Columbus’s left hand is perched on his waist. He gazes off into the distance, clothes billowing as if blown by an ocean breeze. The plinth at the base of the statue has three ships carved into it, representing the Santa Maria and the other two triple-masted wooden ships that he made his first journey to the American continent in. Nowadays, the statue is surrounded by a concrete jungle comprised of the Time-Warner Center, CNN Tower, Trump Tower, and a whole host of other soaring, brilliant glass facades.

It was completed in 1905, Sarah the tour guide says, pointing to the marble monument. This is one of nearly two hundred outdoor monuments or statues worldwide dedicated to Columbus.

At that time, China was still under feudal imperial rule, I sigh wistfully.

Well, you are our honored guest now. When Christopher Columbus first saw his Italian compatriot Marco Polo’s travelogue, he set out on his journey to the Orient in search of China and India.

I’ve seen the historical records, and it’s true. Columbus believed the Earth was round, not flat as people had assumed for so long. He thought if you continued straight westward from Europe, it would be possible to reach Asia. He talked about this journey for more than a decade. At first, everyone laughed at him. Some said at the other side of the Earth the boat would have to climb up, which was impossible. Not until 1492 did Queen Isabella of Spain finally sponsor Columbus’s plan.

On this journey, Columbus brought along a few Arabic translators, who were meant to translate with the great Chinese Khans, for at that time people believed that Arabic was the mother tongue of all languages.

I regard Columbus perched atop the plinth. The fact is, he’s a Mammonite. His odyssey was not just out of interest in Marco Polo’s yarns like something out of the Arabian Nights; it was indeed a grab for Eastern gold and treasure, meant to open a new avenue of western plunder and global colonialism. A wave of ambivalence wells up in me.

What actually came after is different from what is recorded in historical annals, Sarah says. "I’ll tell you the real story, okay? You are our honored Chinese guest. China, mightiest of nations."

Sarah then tells me that, in fact, after seventy days and seventy nights of Columbus sailing westward from Spain, the ocean came to an end.

The sailors saw the ocean before them formed into a waterfall cascading off the edge of the Earth, she says. "Beyond the waterfall lay the glimmering silver firmament of heaven, as far as the eye could see.

"Luckily, they were able to stop their ships in time and avoid plummeting off the edge.

This was the morning of October 12, 1492. So, the adventurers did not encounter land as they had expected.

How could that be? I ask, confused.

Because Earth is flat.

That’s preposterous. It’s impossible.

As you are aware, Columbus was deeply influenced by Posidonius’s theories regarding Earth’s shape and the medieval philosopher Roger Bacon’s ideas about Earth. That was one of the main things that propelled him on his adventure. But at that time there was still great debate as to the exact shape of Earth. Because of this, Columbus’s plans to sail westward were rejected a number of times. It turned out he was wrong in the end.

She tells me that when they came to the end of Earth, an argument ensued.

Go back or sail onward?

Assuming they kept sailing, where would they wind up?

"Once they had argued themselves sick, they stopped and stared fixedly at the vast expanse of softly shimmering space, which seemed to differ in some way from the skies overhead. It glistered like mica, like an even bigger ocean. After converging there and turning into a waterfall, the ocean’s waters vanished entirely.

They actually hadn’t arrived at India or China, rather it seemed they had indeed found a new world, Sarah says, glancing up at the Columbus made of stone.

Five hundred years ago, when night fell, the color of the world beyond the world—that’s what the sailors of the Age of Discovery called it—gradually darkened, those flares of silver fading away. Just like the stars overhead, a few indistinct, flickering specks emerged.

In any case, this new world captivated the sailors. They gradually overcame their dismay. Columbus was even more reluctant to give up, perched unremittingly, motionless at the ship’s bow for days on end, gradually soaking in his spectacular surroundings.

At that point, what was he thinking?

"Oh, he was probably thinking: Does a round Earth exist in some other world?"

"Ahh, that’s it, could there be gold, silk, pearls and jewels, and perfumed spices there? Or perhaps something superior to what Marco Polo had seen?"

You are our honored Chinese guest, Sarah says, eyeing me cautiously.

He had quite the appetite.

Sarah doesn’t answer me directly. She just says that they continued on like that for a fortnight, then someone suggested they should turn back. Supplies of food and water aboard the ship were running low.

That was when Columbus came up with a daring plan. He sent out a dinghy to approach the edge of the waterfall, drop in a rope and bottle, and bring back some seawater from that apparently empty world.

Then they turned the ship around, and sailed back to Spain. They described all that they had seen to the King and Queen. Those in power were disappointed, but they were also drawn in by such uncanniness, and they became enamored with the mysteries of that even vaster world.

An alchemist examined the seawater that Columbus had carried back, finding a unique substance in it which he named ether. This is a Greek phrase, referring to the air breathed by the Gods in Heaven.

So it turns out that was a sea of ether.

In my imagination I see Earth, shaped like a sampan floating in this sea of ether; and Columbus’s ships are smaller sampans perched atop the greater one.

Columbus said, ‘Earth is ten thousand times more mysterious than we imagine, just as God intended’, Sarah tells me.

Columbus let it be known that finding the round Earth was his next goal. According to his explanation, it wasn’t here, but rather in some other far-off space, or perhaps another time.

His detractors said that’s too dangerous, it’s a completely unknown world. Our compasses and hourglasses will be useless there.

But Columbus became more and more convinced that he himself was a divine vessel of