Chinese Literature and Culture Series

In this volume, Canadian author Patrick Kavanagh contributes an important piece: "Smutty Moll for a Mattress Jig: Cross-Cultural Collaboration in Beijing," a recollection of his encounter with the late Xiao Qian, who consulted him about the translation of the many colloquialisms while translating nearly-impossible Ulysses into Chinese. We also have Su Tong's masterpiece "West Window" translated by Prof. Feng Zhilin. Fraser Sutherland captures the spirit and subtlety of the story in his commentary with beautifully written lines like "A girl watches through a window. A boy watches the girl." Liu Chun's "Beijing Guys" is the story of a virgin girl being womanized by one of Beijing's "last bunch of friends in need and friends indeed," who are maintaining an old tradition in an increasingly unrecognizable city and become decadent, adulterous, and selfish. "The Postman" is the work of Lin Peiyuan, a promising young author. It is "a story that lets readers into village life in rural China." (Craig Hulst). "A Poet's Elm" by Xu Yi is the story of a former poet whose eye disease has ruined her career and is creating psychological problems. In the poetry section, we have something quaint: the beautiful lyrics of a petty official in the Qing Dynasty: "From Intoxication to Sobriety: the Ditties of Zhao Qingxi," something that has never been translated into English before.

This is the second edition of Volume one of Chinese Literature and Culture, a peer-reviewed New Leaves book series and simutaneously a peer-reviewed journal published three times a year, devoted to translations of Chinese texts (works from the past or by contemporary authors), essays of cultural criticism, and original writings — fiction or non-fiction — dealing with the China experience or life in the Chinese communities around the world. The journal embraces the idea of cultural translation as advocated by our editors. This volume features a collection of short stories from contemporary China: Sun Pin: A Dinner for Three Li Yinhe: A Study of Love Fu Yuehui: Giant Elephants Ma Wei: Ten Steps to Kill a Person Jiang Yitan: The Boulevard Zhao Ka: Garlic Breath An Yong: Green Moss And an essay by an early revolutionary leader Li Dazhao: The Youth Movement of a Young China These stories are selected with the help of two popular literary magazines: Hua Cheng and Shan Hua.

This collection of short stories from China features Xiu Bai's "An Empty Home": A young man from the countryside, coming to the city with a stolen bride, struggles for a decent life in a dismal world where profit is the leading value. Ying Chuan's "Hunting Season" : A young woman striving for romance and social advancement discovers the dark side of business and and humanity while entertaining a client on a hunting trip. Wei Wei's"The Story of Hu Wenqing": Hu Wenqing, despised as former leader in the Cultural Revolution, rises as business kingpin and reflects on life as an aging Buddhist. Yao Emei's "A Journey of Conscience":  A mute maid, using a magnetic board to communicate, gets caught up in the affairs of a wealthy family and gains a personal redemption. Xiao Su's "Defending the Teache": A graduate student working under a famous ethicist narrates the events surrounding the arrival his father to campus and the clash of values. Liu Qingbang's "Knowing Nobody, A Housemaid in Beijing": A housemaid from the countryside puzzles over the secrecy of her employer, her aunt, while trying to hide from her an affair.

Perhaps the best way to celebrate life is to fight for it. There is so much in life and there is so much to say, and here we are lucky to be involved with a writer who is filled with the zest for life and is never tired of telling its stories. A seventy-something? Yes, she is. Yet when it comes to telling life's stories, she tells them like a seven year old, with as much excitement, without guile, and yet one cannot help being affected. And you feel she is telling your stories and they happened yesterday. I am not unfamiliar with the surroundings in which Yawen grew up. The bigger story repeats itself though the individual stories that make up the bigger story differ from person to person in spite of the varying surroundings. Life is a gift and the gift should be appreciated. Very often a person specially gifted meets with greater adversity in her life and it takes courage and perseverance and skill to overcome it. It is the sense of mission that sets apart an individual from a crowd that can be unconscious, insensitive, or maddening. In a word, one needs to know what she is doing. In this volume, we have a short sketch "First Love at a Deathbed," a pathetic story of Yawen's Third Elder Sister regretting not having fought for her own life on her deathbed. "Dog Girl" is Ying Kong's English adaptation of excerpts of Yawen's early fight against fate in getting her limited education. "The Hawthorn Tree at the Beginning of My Life," translated by the smiling but serious translator Tina Sim, documents the hard life of the family life in a valley with its suppressed aspirations and feelings. "In Respect and Awe" is Vincent Dong's translation of Yawen's preface to her prize-winning biographical novel Playing Games with the Devil, for the writing of which she made many interview trips to Europe on her own. In "Zhang Yawen's Calling: Rising Against All Odds," Ying Kong gives an in-depth introduction to the Lu Xun Prize winning autobiography The Call of Life (translated as Cry for Life in an existing English translation) with a poetic summary of the author's life in the first person singular.

Zhang Wei's new novel A Physician with a Formula involves a young male physician's misguided, deviant life-nourishing practice of using women as a tool to achieve long life. Chapter One published in this volume gives the reader an early glimpse of the masterly work. "Poems from the Courtesan House and Their Stories (1)" shows the sexually enslaved women in ancient China as talented souls aspiring for liberation and freedom. Liang Shuming's"'Family' to Chinese People" gives us an understanding of the Chinese family system. All these come in exquisite translations in Volume 14 of Chinese Literature and Culture. Coupled with the translations are commentaries by Prof. Craig Hulst, who locates Chapter One of A Physician with a Formula in the general context of Chinese culture, Prof. Patricia Clark, who highlights the relevance of poetry writing to life and imagism in the courtesan poems, and author Kyle Muntz, who gives an intellectual discussion of how the subtle emotions of the courtesans take shape in the poems and the narratives between them. In addition, the bilingual content is a valuable material for students and scholars of Chinese studies and translation studies.

This volume includes three translated fiction stories. "In Company With a Depression Sufferer," by Chen Jiyi, is a story of two migrants trying to make it in the industrial metropolis of Beijing. As the hero, Chen Chao, cares for the younger Ma Qi, he slowly understands the reasons for Ma Qi's mental anguish in a way that, perhaps, goes far deeper than the problems of the moral decadence of the modern economic center. In Yu Hua's "A Long Journey From Home at Eighteen," the hero, on his way into the world in search of an inn, meets the world's cold reality, but finally finds his inn in a least suspected place. "Buried in Peace," by Yan Xi Zao, tells the inspiring story of a girl's return home to the countryside during Spring Festival with the sad task of taking her final leave of her dying grandmother, but in the process she gains an understanding of herself, her place in the world, and her connection to tradition.We include two auto-biographical essays by Chinese writers: "Self-analysis," by Zhuang Jiamin, is a narrative of a Chinese girl with a fascination for reading romance novels as she deals with discipline from parents she also loves. It is also the generation gap being traversed by today's China, yet grounded in tradition. "My Childhood," by Li Huiyin, tells about a girl raised in the Chinese countryside by her aunt. "The Expressivity of Chinese Instrumental Music," by a professional piano player and music teacher, Kevin Nan Gan, presents the expressive aspect of Chinese music by carefully leading the reader through a model Chinese instrumental piece. Klaus Vieweg's "The Taint of Determinateness – The East and Buddhism from the perspective of Hegel" is an important study on the importance of Hegel's thought for a union of West and East, Buddhism in particular. The core ideas are crucial, I think, for understanding, at a philosophical level, the potential for a union between China and the West thought.

Featuring "Remembering Blackfish in Black Pool," a short story by Zhang Wei, translated by Chu Dongwei: How much ink is needed to dye such a stretch of sand black! Decades have passed but its color is as before. People nowadays don't know why there is such a large stretch of black sand amid the dozens of square miles of brown soil and sand, but I clearly remember that here in this place there was originally a black pool and the day the pool was filled it dyed the mud and the sand black. Over the years, the pool of dark clear water has often come into my dreams to flash in front of my eye. I still remember how I lingered all day around the pool watching black fish swimming to and fro, their bodies like charcoal and their eyes sparkling like crystals. Because the water was too clear, all the scales of a black fish were visible. The pool was located below a sand ridge northwest of our little thatched cottage. When and how did it come into being? And why didn't the loose sandy soil drain it? Today it is all a mystery. In the boundless wilderness, similar mysteries abound that are simply not explored. On the two sides of the pool grew some wild copal trees, and when autumn came, a big frost cast red the leaves and petioles, which gradually fell off, some into the pool, some onto the edge of the pool. We collected copal tree leaves, weaved them into hats, which we put on our heads, and mimicked various animal sounds.... Beside the pool were some eroded wood stakes, which often carried some mushrooms. When you picked the newly grown mushrooms, some new ones would quickly grow. It was an interesting place that held a mysterious appeal, quiet, deserted, unfrequented except for visits by one or two children. On the sandy ridge on the right of the pool there were two weed-covered mounds said to be two graves. What kind of people had come to this remote corner to build the graves? Everyone wondered. Then I heard the legend of Black Pool...

We are very pleased to welcome Xuemo, another prize-winning author, into this new volume of Chinese Literature and Culture, which consists of excerpts of The Curse of Western Xia and excerpts of The Love Letters of Sharwardi in excellent English translation as well as two book reviews: Robert Tindol on the novel Desert Rites and Stephen Rake on the novel Desert Hunters. An author should have character and Xuemo is certainly the type we are looking for. Of all Chinese authors we have translated so far, Xuemo is unique in his spirituality and power of imagination. Unlike many writers who write in formulas that make predictable stories, Xuemo writes in a way that surprises the reader but meanwhile never loses the plot of a spiritual quest. In The Curse of Western Xia, five excerpts of which are published in the present volume, a robber father wants his son to be a robber while the Buddhist mother wants the son to be a monk, and as a result a series of strange stories take place. The novel also has another plot: a love story develops between a beautiful lady burglar and a Buddhist monk and is consummated in the religious practice of dual cultivation. In the words of Prof. Chen Xiaoming speaking to his students, "Xuemo gives a surreal experience by developing his literary narrative as a religious one which accesses and describes the world of evil as in a dream, a world as pale as the winter sun in the western deserts shining onto mud and soil, visible and weak, illusory and real at the same time." Xuemo is best known for his novels but he is equally accomplished at short stories. Chen Sihe, Professor of Chinese, Fudan University, in "What Is the Best Freeze Frame of Beauty?" (Shanghai Literature) notes: "Xuemo is particularly good at creating epic volumes. When I read Desert Rites and Hunters' Land, I feel as if I were actually transported to the vast, dry deserts…. On the other hand, his short stories are beautiful, animated and filled with sentiment..." He also notes, "While everything is dark and the reader wonders how the human evils and cruelties come into being and how humans have degenerated into beasts, Xuemo gives us a surprising miracle."

We all live and we all die.It is the process between the start of life and end of it that is all that matters.In certain contexts, it is shameful to love your life and fear death, as reflected by the Chinese idiom tan sheng pa si, but to love life and fear death is only too natural as dictated by our animal heritage.In this volume, we have two stories that contrast with each other. In the former, Wang Xiaomu's "Love Forecaster," we see how humans love life and can possibly spoil it; in the latter, Yingchuan's "No Turning Around," we have a human that fears death as a consequence of inflicting death (as he imagines); in the former, we see how love can sour, and in the latter how human nature can stay dignified with so much love in the deep fear of death.Life is a one-way ticket, in either case; there is no return. As observers of other people's lives and readers of other people's stories we may perceive some meaning the way Craig Hulst does in his commentary on "Love Forecaster."As always, a note of thanks must go to the translators, Zhang Hong and Li Qinmei, involved in this volume, for their painstaking work, and to the contributing editors, Fraser Sutherland and Craig Hulst for making the translations read well, and the School of Translation and Transcultural Studies of Guangdong University of Foreign Studies for continued support given to Chinese Literature and Culture.

Editorial: A Movie Is Not a Movie by Chu Dongwei 2020 will be remembered in history as a very special year. For much of the first half of the Chinese lunar year, cinemas were closed in the country due to the unprecedented Covid-19 pandemic. Filmmakers and cinemas ready to make another big harvest with the annual Chinese New Year blockbusters found their fortune gone in a day. A few smart movie producers quickly switched to online video platforms and found an alternative success. Back in the seventies and eighties of the last century, watching a movie was a big treat for the rural and urban communities. When the man with movie reels on his bike came, it was like a festival. The crowd gathered in an open-air meeting ground or a sports field regardless of wind and rain. Both the scene and the story on the screen stuck in the memory forever. For a very long time, the movie theater occupied a central place in the cities. Movies and pop corn constituted the romance of young people. However, by the turn of the century, the movie theater waned. Rows and rows of seats became empty in the big cinemas. Entertainment diversified and watching movies in cinemas for many people became a thing of the past. Today, as the movie industry regained its vigor through improved acoustic and visual effects thanks to the development of technology and variety of content targeted at different demographic groups, the cinema has once again flourished in the key locations of a city except that, this time around, it came in multiple showrooms in one location equipped with comfortable sofas, and of course with heftier ticket prices. Open-air screening has become very rare and may technically be no longer possible. The history of the movie theater is the history of the modern world as the movie is part and parcel of modern life. Whether you are a man or a woman, young or old, rich or poor, you get connected with modern life through the movie and you have your own version of the history of the movie as you experience it. Zhu Shanpo's short story, "Visitors from Deep in the Mountains," recommended for translation by Xiao Su, another story-writer, serves as a reminiscence of a piece of Chinese life in modern history. Art, as useless as it is for practical purposes, plays a dominant role in the nourishing of the soul. In this beautifully written story, the content of the movie is never relevant, it is watching itself that matters. Interwoven with fate, resignation, pursuit of happiness, love, and human compassion, the sad, peaceful love story outside the movies touches a deeper part of our heart. In this world of fast tempo, access to the movie theater has become increasingly easy, but can we sit quietly and enjoy it like before? A trip to the cinema is a get-away from the real world for a brief moment. So, watch a movie if you can. For the convenience of language learners, the story is published in bilingual format. To go with this issue, we have two poems by Alice Tan, also in bilingual format. Finally, I would like to apologize for the late publication of the current issue while rejoicing that CLC has survived thus far. It will move ahead as all of us will.

Editorial: New Talent by Chu Dongwei Literature has always been an outlet of talent and a way to escape from the mundane world for temporary respite. The creative energies released in literature serve as a bridge between our ordinary existence and the possible worlds and ourselves and other souls. Chinese Literature and Culture is not only interested in the creations of established authors and the cultural heritage, our eyes are also on the emerging authors that are already getting their voices heard. Therefore, we are constantly looking for young talent that represent the up and coming generation. Lin Peiyuan, author of the short story "He Killed the Carp," is just one of the literary young minds that are capable of taking us to travel between the worlds with great skill. While being a student of Chinese Literature, he has already demonstrated a deep, passionate understanding of human existence and a great mastery of the art of fiction-making. Chinese Literature and Culture has also been an incubator for young translators. In the past, our editors have found talented postgraduate students that have the potential to fledge into excellent literary translators, not only providing them with the publishing platform but also all possible guidance and assistance they need to be better translators. Liu Liang, prolific writer of online fiction and primary translator of "He Killed the Carp," started the project as part of my Translation Workshop course years ago as a Master of Translation and Interpreting student revised his first manuscript upon listening to advice from a special workshop in which some other GDUFS teachers were also present, Timothy Huson, Stephen Rake, Lan Hongjun, and Kang Zhihong, among others. The criticism was harsh yet highly constructive. Later, he received feedback from the Editorial Board twice and made multiple revisions while immersing himself in English literature, consulting translation professors and native English speakers wherever possible, trying to make every word accurate and fitting. In fact, that is the only way to translational success. There is no shortcut. Because Liu Liang has never given up. The translation you will read is more decent. It has achieved a fair level of excellence. In translation of literature, once you prove you are capable of doing a good job, you can always do a good job. It is difficult to return to bad performance if you are always serious. Your level won't drop. Congratulation to Liu Liang and good luck! A further note. Taking students of language, literature and translation into consideration, CLC will publish more and more bilingual issues like this one.

Editorial: "Every Falling Leaf Carries a Soul" by Chu Dongwei "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." (The Book of Genesis) Between dust and dust is life and between peace and peace is all the commotion. Is it the breath that is all that matters? It is such a coincidence that the three translations in the current issue are haply linked together with a central theme: love in the chaotic world. Mozi, one of the great sages, advocates jian ai, love yourself, love others. He points out that all the problems in the world is caused by selfish love, love at the cost of others. Reciprocity is the cure. The idea of jian ai, better translated as "inclusive love" than "universal love" or "impartial love", does not denounce love of oneself and one's own family and one's own country; rather it suggests putting oneself in the shoes of others in order to achieve fair play. This consideration for others while looking after one's own interest is exactly the human decency we are badly in need of in today's world. How can the problems be worked out if persons, groups of persons and nations as the ultimate groups of persons constantly highlight their own interests and blame each other for what they are doing themselves? For a long time in modern history, decency has been glorified but now it seems a few people are taking over the world and bent on throwing it away because it is no longer useful. There is a great danger of a moral decay. So the ancient wisdom in "Jian Ai, or Inclusive Love (1)," a chapter of Mozi, is still relevant today. "Someone Else's Story" by Jin Yi, one of China's modern Leftist writers, translated by Dr. Tian Lu, gives us a picture of  the helplessness of the ordinary people of "Old China" in turmoil. Though the several farmers in the story are perfectly capable of love they cannot afford love under those dire circumstances. Both men, in love with the "wife," unable to divide their love for her and unwilling to put it to a duel, decide to sell her to a richer man and let her go. It is someone else's story but why does it evoke sympathy? "Someone else's story," as Derek Hird points out in his in-depth commentary, "Jin Yi thus reminds us, is also our own." The "disorder" in the world, as described by Mozi, is the culprit behind the tragedy. A further investigation can reveal the real conspirators against mankind. In the third piece, "Every Falling Leaf Carries a Soul," poet He Guangshun, approaches a falling leaf and thus inquires: Is it the the soul's upward rise or the the flesh's downfall toward its demise?  Then he gives his answer: Fragments of light sparkle, lighting the way of each and every home-bound worm Every falling leaf carries a soul...  Yes, every falling leaf carries a soul. Love yourself, love others and the world is at one.