Novel

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Crane-Iron Pentalogy (Part 2)

July 16, 2013 by Sara K. 12 Comments

I actually do not think this image from the manhua is quite in the spirit of the original novels, but it’s still pretty.

Read Part 1

The Development of a Pentalogy

Though the internal chronology is Crane Frightens Kunlun / Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin / Sword Force, Pearl Shine / Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon / Iron Rider, Silver Vase, the first novel to be written/published was the central one, Sword Force, Pearl Shine, followed by Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin, with Crane Frightens Kunlun.

In other words, Wang Dulu first went back in time, and then decided to go back forward in time.

Sword Force, Pearl Shine is the shortest of the five novels, and I suspect that it was originally intended to be a stand-alone novel. However, being shorter, it is also a little less developed than the other novels. This underdevelopment may have been a blessing in disguise, for I suspect it led Wang Dulu to ask himself about Yu Shulien and Li Mubai’s origins, which inspired Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin, and then he asked himself about Southern Crane, which led to writing Crane Frightens Kunlun. Crane Frightens Kunlun itself has a loose end, and tying that up leads to the creation of a key character (Yu Jiaolong) and much of the plot of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Whether that loose end was put in Crane Frightens Kulun on purpose because Wang Dulu was already planning to write Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, I do not know. I strongly suspect, however, that Wang Dulu did deliberately write that open-ended finale ine Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon because he was already planning to write Iron Rider, Silver Vase.

The point is, Wang Dulu did not have a master-plan when he was writing the pentalogy. He let it unfold organically, one book at a time, and even he probably didn’t know where the story was going to go more than a book in advance. The novels are much better because of this.

The scriptwriter Brian McDonald says that storytellers should be the slaves, not the masters, of their stories. To me, it seems that Wang Dulu was not the master of his stories, and I mean that in a good way. On the surface, they seem quite humble and not at all impressive, but they prove to be surprisingly powerful.

About the 2000 Ang Lee Film

Nowadays, even in the Chinese-speaking world, most people know about the Crane-Iron Pentalogy thanks to the 2000 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. So how does it compare?

The film simplifies the story. A lot. It has to. It’s only two hours long, and most of the audience is not familiar with the events of Crane Frightens Kunlun / Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin / Sword Force, Pearl Light.

While I love the Crane-Iron Pentalogy as a whole, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is the novel I love the least. Unlike the other novels, I felt CTHD has some rather long, tedious sections. The film, quite wisely, leaves out all of the tedious stuff, while keeping the most interesting parts.

Of course, while the movie leaves out a lot detail, it certainly drops quite a few hints. For example, one of the major characters is Cai Xiangmei, a girl who performs acrobatics on the street, yet the only reference to her in the entire movie is a single shot showing a girl performing acrobatics on the street. I think this is Ang Lee’s way of saying ‘Yes, I read the novel, but I simply do not have the screen time to include this character’s story’. I do not think people who haven’t read the novels are consciously aware of these little hints throughout the movie … but I suspect they can still feel that this is just part of a broader story.

Ultimately, the feel of the movie is not the same as the novels. That does not make it a bad movie – in fact, it probably would have been a worse movie if it had tried to stick too close to the novel. I have trouble imagining the subtle psychological tug-and-pull in the novels translating well into film, and of course the gorgeous cinematography of the film is totally absent in the novels.

It’s a good movie, and I recommend it. But…

The Thing Which Bothers Me About the Movie

I am going to be a bit vague to avoid spoilers.

The message of the movie is that you need to recognize, pursue, and consummate (romantic) love before it’s too late. That’s not the message of the original novel, but that is not a problem, nor is it a problem that the movie changes the ending to pull this off. The movie implies that a certain couple never got married because they did not realize how much they loved each other / did not have the courage to pursue their love, and that they regret this. That is also not a problem. The problem is … the couple used to demonstrate this point is Character Y and Character Z (I said I was going to be vague).

In the novels, Y and Z know that they love each other, and they didn’t remain unmarried because of a lack of courage. They stayed unmarried because they decided they did not want to marry. While one could have a great discussion about why they make this choice, it clearly is a deliberate choice on their part.

And they put up with quite a bit of nonsense from other people because of this.

Years after they have made their decision clear, their friends are still scheming up ways to get them married. They get kicked out of shelter onto the street in the middle of the night because of their unmarried status. At one point, someone practically orders them to get married.

But the movie glosses all over this. If two people who are in love with each other refuse marriage, there simply must be a problem, they cannot just be mature adults making thought-out choices about their own personal lives.

I think that’s rather insulting to Character Y and Z, and I think it contradicts the point the novels try to make about freedom in personal relationships. I really wish the movie had found a different way to make this point.

About the New Movie

The word is that Yuen Wo Ping, who was the action choreographer for the Ang Lee film, will be directing the new movie, which I’ve seen titled as both Iron Rider, Silver Vase and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon 2 – the Green Destiny.

My guess is that it will be even less faithful to the original novels than the Ang Lee film, but will probably incorporate at least parts of the story of Iron Rider, Silver Vase. Personally, as long as they make a good movie which does not do anything too irritating, I’ll be happy. That said, I do hope they will include Han Tiefang and not change him too much, since he’s one of my favorite characters in the pentalogy.

The Heart of Wuxia

One of the things which strikes me about wuxia is the emphasis on the characters’ thoughts, feelings, and relationships with each other. This introspective emphasis is much heavier in wuxia than in western speculative fiction (with some exceptions). That’s not to say that wuxia is better than western speculative fiction, since western speculative fiction explores plenty of other things. Nonetheless, the emphasis on feelings and relationships makes wuxia stories (particularly novels) sometimes feel more like romance fiction than the speculative fiction I grew up with.

The Taiwanese edition of Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin

I have not read many of the old (as in written before 1950) wuxia novels, so I cannot make my own analysis, but I’ve read that the older wuxia novels are full of lots of exciting, magical, action-packed adventures, and contain not so much psychology. The claim is that Wang Dulu, and the Crane-Iron Pentalogy in particular, changed that.

Now, anybody reading the Crane-Iron Pentalogy for the fights and action sequences is going to be disappointed. It’s not that it’s badly written, it’s just that all of the ‘action’ parts are really brief. Wang Dulu always uses violence/action as a tool to get the characters where they need to go, and never as an end in itself.

Some say Wang Dulu brought the wuxia genre to maturity. His wuxia-romances certainly became very popular very quickly, and I can tell that he has a strong influence on later writers. Based on what I know, it seems that his major contribution is putting the ‘heart’ – the passion, the introspection, the intense human relationships – into wuxia.

Availability in English

Simon and Schuster acquired the English translation rights to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and possibly the other novels as well, and then did … nothing.

The 2001 Ang Lee movie, the 2004 movie, and manhua which bear the name Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon are all available in English. I haven’t seen the 2004 movie, though generally it’s considered inferior to the Ang Lee film. I have also yet to read the manhua, but the word is that the first two volumes are actually based on Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin, and that starting around volume 3 the story gets further and further away from the novels.

The manhua, again.

Conclusion

I love the Crane-Iron Pentalogy. I’m still left with a sense that there is something wonderful about the stories which I have totally failed to convey in these two posts.

My love, as you may have gathered, is not equally distributed among the novels. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon gets the least love from me, whereas my favorites are Iron Rider, Silver Vase and Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin. Particularly Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin. It is a beautiful novel which swept me up and then left me in tears. Part of me wishes they would adapt Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin into a movie, and part of me cannot imagine any movie adaptation being as moving as the original.

Next Time: Starry Starry Night (movie)

Sara K. worked on this post as Typhoon Soulik made its way across Taiwan. Soulik managed to greatly annoy Sara K., but it did not do her any major harm.

It Came From the Sinosphere: The Iron-Crane Pentalogy (Part 1)

July 9, 2013 by Sara K. 1 Comment

Book cover for ‘Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin’

The Iron-Crane Pentalogy is not just one of the most influential works of wuxia ever written, it’s possibly the most well-known work of wuxia outside of the Chinese-speaking world. In fact, many Manga Bookshelf readers have already heard of it.

Before you think “Hey, I’m a Manga Bookshelf reader, and I’ve never heard of the Iron-Crane Pentalogy,” look at the titles of the five novels:

1. Crane Frightens Kunlun
2. Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin
3. Sword Force, Pearl Shine
4. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
5. Iron Rider, Silver Vase

The name “Crane-Iron” comes from the titles of the first and final novels.

If you have never heard of a single one of these stories, then okay, you’ve never heard of the Iron-Crane Pentalogy.

The Story

Book cover for ‘Crane Frightens Kunlun’

There is an old man who is the master of the world’s most awesome martial arts. He has two disciples, the older of whom is a mute (and nobody know his name), and the younger of whom is eventually known to the world as “Southern Crane.” Both the mute and Southern Crane transmit their martial arts knowledge to future generations. The Crane-Iron Pentalogy is about the marital artists who learn these awesome technqies.

The first novel, Crane Frightens Kunlun, is about the boyhood of Southern Crane, who was born as Jiang Xiaohe. Jiang Xiaohe centers his youth around getting revenge on Bao “Kunlun” for the murder of his father and forced separation from his mother. Jiang Xiaohe also wants to marry Master Bao’s granddaughter, Bao Ahluan, and it never occurs to him than she might object to him killing her grandfather. Xiaohe’s rashness and anger is an irresistable force, and Bao ‘Kunlun’s narrowmindedness and refusal to openly acknowledge the wrongs he has committed is an immovable object. Irresistable force + immovable object = tragic consequences.

In the second novel, Precious Sword, Golden Hairpin, Li Mubai, the son of two characters in Crane Frightens Kunlun, falls in love with Yu Shulien, whose beauty is only surpassed by her peerless sword-fighting skills and sense of honor. However, it turns out that Yu Shulien already has a fiance, Meng Sizhao. BUMMER! Li Mubai goes to Beijing, where, in his attempt to get over his heartbreak, he gets into a romantic relationship with a prostitute called Xie Cuiqian, who might secretly be a vigilante who rescues innocent girls. Meanwhile, Meng Sizhao’s greedy older brother has forced him to go into exile so he can have the family property all to himself, and Yu Shulien has to deal with her father’s very powerful enemies.

In the third novel, Sword Force, Pearl Light, Southern Crane tells Li Mubai to fix the mess that is his life. Later, people try to get some pearls, people are murdered, a girl gets kidnapped, Yu Shulien gets involved…

In the fourth novel, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and important sword goes missing, and it seems the thief is an expert at martial arts. Did Cai Xiangmei, an acrobat girl who has recently agreed to work as a servant for Yu Jiaolong (daughter of a very high-ranking offical) steal it? Also, we learn that the family who was murdered/kidnapped because of that set of pearls in the third novel has a secret family member, called Lo Xiaohu, who, not knowing his true family origins, is a bandit…

In the fifth novel Iron Knight, Silver Vase, Han Tiefang, who grew up in an official’s family, abandons everything he has to find his mother, who had been kidnapped long ago. Meanwhile, a young martial artist, Chun Xueping, knows almost nothing about her family…

Background

Book cover for ‘Sword Force, Pearl Shine’

The Iron-Crane Pentalogy was originally published in the 1930s and 1940s, and was one of the most popular works of Chinese fiction in that era.

The writer, Wang Dulu, had a strong interest in psychology (for example, he read many of Freud’s works). Before writing wuxia, Wang Dulu was a romance novelist, though apparently many of his ‘romance’ novels were as much about sons clashing with their fathers as they were about romance. And it really shows in the Iron-Crane Pentalogy that Wang Dulu was a romance novelist, since the martial arts are just a plot device, and much more attention is paid to the characters’ romantic feelings.

The “Northern School” and the “Southern School” are the two sets of novelists who are considered responsible for defining the wuxia genre in the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. Wang Dulu is considered one of the key writers from the ‘Northern School’.

I also must note that these novels were just after the first part of the Chinese Civil War, and during the Japanese invasion of China, in other words, China as a state was unravelling. I think this helps explain much of the bleakness and antagonism found in the novels.

Practically every major wuxia writer after 1950 was heavily influenced by Wang Dulu, and the Iron-Crane Pentalogy in particular. I will write more about that later.

Just Enough to Convey the Feeling

Book cover for ‘Iron Rider, Silver Vase’

As you can tell by reading the above attempt at a plot summary, the plot is actually rather complicated … but it feels simple when you read it. In fact, it feels so simple that it’s only after the fact that I realized how many of the subtleties I had absorbed, particularly the little ripples of the characters’ consciousness.

For example, there is a scene (I’m changing the characters’ names to avoid spoilers) where Character A is grieving over the death of Character B. A and B were lovers, and even had a child together, but B left A almost two decades ago, and A never went to find her until it was too late. A is feeling intense grief, not only because B is dead, but because he never said goodbye.

Enter Character C.

C at first is moved by A’s very sincere grief, and his first impulse is to comfort A. Then he holds himself back. C has a great deal of respect for B, and feels that A is no where close to being worthy of her. Furthermore, the fact that A and B had sex and a child out of wedlock was a great stain on B’s honor. Therefore, C decides to torment A, by essentially saying ‘you did not see her for almost twenty years, and now you’re crying because she’s gone. What kind of man are you? A real man would not be weeping over this.’

A replies “You’re right.” Then he says “I am only thinking of her so much because you remind me of her.”

What A and C do not know – but the reader knows – is that C is A and B’s biological son. That makes this little scene all the more poignant.

The novels are full of this subtle little emotional back-and-forth. Wang Dulu states just enough for the reader to understand what is happening, and no more. Unlike many dramatic stories which try to squeeze more dramatic juice than the pulp of the story can supply, Wang Dulu squeezes out just enough dramatic juice to demonstrate just how juicy the story is.

And it works because it feels true. People really do have these emotional entanglements.

If I can use the word “image” to describe something that is emotional rather than visual, then these novels have plenty of striking emotional images.

The Freedom to Define Intimate Relationships

Book cover for ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’

One consistent theme in the pentalogy is that trying to force people to make their intimate relationships fit “socially-acceptable” forms leads to a lot of suffering. For example, Southern Crane’s father was killed because he pursued sex with a woman other than his wife. Is having extramarital sex without some form of agreement from one’s spouse right? No, but adultery does not justify murder, and forcing Southern Crane’s mother to remarry and separate her from her son because it’s the socially appropriate thing to do causes Southern Crane to have an extremely unhappy childhood (also, note that Southern Crane’s mother, even with the adultery, did not want her husband to get get killed).

Another example: Han Tiefang, under pressure from his family, got married when he was only 15 years old … and his marriage is very unsatisfying. Since his wife hasn’t done anything wrong, he doesn’t want to divorce her (and thereby deprive her of economic support), so instead he leaves town forever (or at least that’s what he thinks) to look for his mother.

This happens again and again throughout the pentalogy. Intimate relationships which do not follow narrowly defined social norms (which is quite a few of the intimate relationships in the pentalogy) get heavily policed.

The pentalogy also shows quite a range of intimate relationships. Some women who are unmarried and not prostitutes choose to have sex (SHOCK). Some people love and want to marry women who are not virgins (SHOCK). Some people even love and want to marry prostitutes (SHOCK). Sometimes people in intimate relationships are not having sex with each other (SHOCK). Sometimes people in intimate relationships do not want to marry each other (SHOCK).

The stories are heteronormative, but considering they were written in 1930s/40s China, I would have been extremely surprised if they were not.

One of the more subtle points is that, for intimate relationships to be satisfying, people need time. Most of all, they need time to figure themselves out, and discover who they are and what they want, before they can build a mature intimate relationship. This is exactly why pressuring people to marry young (a pressure that most of the characters feel) can lead to disaster.

And there’s more…

The Iron-Crane Pentalogy is one of my favorite works of Chinese fiction, so of course I’m not done discussing it. Come back next week for Part II.

Sara K. loves fresh lychee fruit. She ate some right before working on this post.

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Duke of Mount Deer (Part 2)

June 4, 2013 by Sara K. Leave a Comment

First, a Song!

I’ve never seen any of the TV adaptations of The Duke of Mount Deer, but I do like the opening song of the version starring Tony Leung and Michael Miu.

Hey, I Know That Place!

I have never been to China. While I know where places like ‘Beijing’ are, a lot of the action in these stories takes place in rural areas I’ve never heard of. Likewise, my knowledge of Chinese history is very, very basic, so when certain prominent historical figures pop up I know little, if anything, about them.

But while I’ve never been to China, I have most definitely been in Taiwan (I’m in Taiwan now).

This novel has many references to Taiwanese history and places in Taiwan, and eventually our protagonist even goes to Taiwan.

Furthermore, I read part of the novel in Penghu, which was a stronghold of Shi Lang, one of the characters in the novel. So, while I was reading about the fictional Shi Lang, I was learning about the historical Shi Lang by wandering around his old stomping ground.

This village in Penghu was around when the events of this novel took place.

So, for once, not only did I understand a lot of the historical references being dropped and know quite a few of the places being mentioned, they were mentioning places which I have physically visited and have vivid memories of. For example, at one point Wei Xiaobao thinks about five concubines of King Ningjing. I have visited the temple dedicated to the five concubines, and seen the very wooden rafter where they hung themselves.

I had not expected to see places I’ve been to in my travel around Taiwan to pop up in a Jin Yong novel. It’s exciting to see a bit of one’s life represented in fiction, and it made my reading experience even richer.

The Island

Something that comes up again and again in Jin Yong stories is 2-8 characters going to an island where they live together in isolation from the rest of humanity. Or maybe they go to a remote mountain instead. This is the happiest part of the characters’ lives, and if/when they leave the island/mountain, they suffer.

In other words, happiness is setting up one’s own isolated micro-society, while people living within a huge, hierarchal society are doomed to suffer. There, I’ve just summarized about 5000 pages of fiction.

(this section contains some spoilers for this novel)

But there is one protagonist who is not happy with living on his own island, namely Wei Xiaobao.

He thinks the greatest pleasures in life are watching theatre shows, gambling, and having sex with beautiful women. But on the island, only the ‘sex with beautiful women’ is an option, which is why Wei Xiaobao doesn’t want to be on the island in the first place. He does try to gamble with the beautiful women, but since they are not really into gambling, it’s not much fun. Then some gamblers come to the island, so Wei Xiaobao gets sex with beautiful women and gambling. But he’s still unhappy. Then a theatre troupe comes to the island … no, I’m making that one up, but I bet even if a theatre group had come to the island and performed for Wei Xiaobao every day, he would still be unhappy.

It is then said that Wei Xiaobao can only be happy in a bustling city, such as Yangzhou or Beijing. But I wonder, is that really it? He seems happiest when he’s with his friends. If his friends were on the island with him, would he be so unhappy?

In any case, I find it interesting that Jin Yong subverts his own island/mountain fantasy.

Not a Good Person

Jin Yong has received many complaints from readers about the novel because the protagonist is … not a good person. Jin Yong’s response is that protagonists don’t have to be ‘good’, his novels are not supposed to be morality textbooks, and nobody is completely ‘good’ anyway. He does say to any impressionable people who may read the novel that Wei Xiaobao’s loyalty to his friends is a virtue, but aside from that, his behavior should not be imitated.

I like to pride myself in being someone who wants complex characters with shades of grey and all that … yet Wei Xiaobao also frustrated me. Which makes me realize that I also like to sort characters into ‘good people’ and ‘bad people’, much as I don’t like to admit it.

Wei Xiaobao simply does not fit in the ‘good person/bad person’ dichotomy. He some some horrible things in the story, and never regrets them, let alone apologize for them. He also does some good things at personal cost to himself. At times I would be cheering him on, and then think ‘wait a minute, I’m cheering on the guy who did [horrible thing].’ And then there were times when Wei Xiaobao was suffering, and I would think ‘that’s not fair.’

Many of Wei Xiaobao’s ‘bad’ features are actually him living out fantasies we are not comfortable to admitting we have. For example, he is too lazy to study, and always finds clever workarounds for actual work. Many of use would love to have the benefit of work being done without doing the work ourselves. And while I personally do not have fantasies about having sex with a harem of beautiful women, based on some of the search results I’ve gotten, this seems to be some people’s favorite part of the story.

I have Asagi from Basara on my mind lately (thanks, MJ) and even he fits in the good person / bad person dichotomy. He’s a bad, broken person who becomes a good, healed person. Wei Xiaobao, however, is not broken – in fact, he is the least angst-ridden of all Jin Yong characters. While he does grow up over the course of the story, whether he becomes a ‘better’ person is open to debate.

To a large extent, Wei Xiaobao is just adapting to his environment. He often gets rewarded for lying and cheating, so he lies and he cheats. He grew up around people who treat young women as sex objects instead of as people, so he treats young women as sex objects instead of as people (though he gets a little better about this towards the end of the story). Older women tend to shower affection on him when he flatters and papmers them, so guess what, he flatters and pampers older women. His friends express their gratitude when he tries to help them, so he tries to help his friends. While Wei Xiaobao is individually repsonsible for his actions (especially since it is demonstrated that he CAN resist his social conditioning), to a large extent, his virtues and flaws are reflections of the society he lives in.

What a vexing character.

Wei Xiaobao and His Mother

(this is mildly spoilerific)

For most of the novel, Wei Xiaobao hardly thinks about his mother at all, and he certainly does not wonder how she’s doing. Finally, he returns to Yangzhou and sees her. From her point of view, her young son had disappeared years ago, and no matter how hard she searched for him, she couldn’t even find a clue about his whereabouts. She is understandably extremely upset about his long absence, and makes sures Wei Xiaobao knows it. At the same time, she is overjoyed to know that her son is alive and well. Wei Xiaobao also observes that she is getting older, and that some day she will need somebody to take care of her.

At first, this encounter doesn’t seem to change Wei Xiaobao, but looking back, that was a major turning point in his development. Before their reunion, Wei Xiaobao has a very self-centered lifestyle – everything is about making himself safe, comfortable, and happy. After being separated from her again, Wei Xiaobao actually misses his mother, and worries about how she is doing. And it’s not just his mother – Wei Xiaobao starts considering how his actions affect other people, not to manipulate them, but because he starts to care about their well-being. He realizes that there are people who depend on him. And thus his carefree existence is finished.

This is actually not unlike my own life. I haven’t seen my own mother in years, unless you count the *one* conversation we had over Skype last year, which incidently was the only time I talked to her in all of 2012. She would probably count that, for she said was that it was so wonderful to see her daughter’s face moving and smiling again after having not seen me for so long. Though I don’t think my behavior is nearly as harmful as Wei Xiaobao’s, I am currently living a self-centered life myself. I am only taking care of myself, and though Wei Xiaobao and I do very different things for fun (well, we do have ONE passion in common – live theatre), we are both trying to please ourselves to the greatest extent feasible.

I consider my eventual reunion with my parents to be the end of my carefree existence, for I see that, between my parents and myself, the direction of the caregiving is going to reverse. One reason I value my current self-centered lifestyle is that, by my reckoning, I will never be able to live like this ever again.

Availability in English

This novel has been published in English as The Deer and the Cauldron by John Minford. I haven’t read any of it myself, but this translation gets very, very mixed reviews. Currently, it’s out of print and expensive, so I suggest borrowing it from a library.

There is also an incomplete fan translation by ‘Foxs’. I’ve looked at it, and it’s very literal (on purpose, according to Foxs). It’s not the smoothest reading experience in English, but it’s close to the original Chinese. Some people say that the best way to read The Deer and the Cauldron in English is to read the Minford and the Foxs translations side-by-side.

Conclusion

A lot of people say this is Jin Yong’s best novel, and dammit, they are right, this is Jin Yong’s best novel.

If you can get the Minford translation from a library, or get the novel in a language you understand by some other means, then this novel needs to be on your reading list now (caveat: I am not going to blame people who avoid the novel because of the sexual abuse it depicts).

I am a bit sad to finish this novel. I had held off on reading this for a long time because it is the last Jin Yong novel. Now, I will never read a fresh Jin Yong novel ever again. Re-reads are not the same. That said, this was the right novel to save for last.

Thanks, Jin Yong. It was a great ride.

What does it say about Sara K.’s life that she saw some Beijing opera, learned how to open up encrypted filesystems with a liveCD, and was bitten by wild leeches in the same week?

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Duke of Mount Deer (Part 1)

May 28, 2013 by Sara K. 1 Comment

I’m going with the title “The Duke of Mount Deer” because a) it seems to be the most common title for this story in English and b) I like it more than the other titles for this in English. It’s also known as The Deer and the Cauldron and Royal Tramp. If I had to come up with a title for this story, I would pick What the **** Are You Doing, Wei Xiaobao?, which I think better conveys the spirit of the story than any other title.

The Story

Wei Xiaobao is a teenage brat from Yangzhou who goes on an adventure to Beijing. There, he gets captured, taken in to the Forbidden City, and has to pretend to be a eunuch called “Xiaojiazi” to keep his head attached to his shoulders. He’s instructed to go looking for the “Sutra of Forty-Two Chapters,” and becomes friends with another boy in the palace called Xiaoxuanzi. Why are they friends? Because Xiaoxuanzi likes to beat Wei Xiaobao up.

I’m going to stop there, because I really don’t want to spoil the next twist in the plot. Let’s just say that Wei Xiaobao has an interesting life.

Background

This is Jin Yong’s final novel. If you don’t know or don’t remember who Jin Yong is, you may consult the archives.

The Jin Yong Anti-Hero

The Jin Yong TV Tropes page puts this very succinctly:

Wouldn’t Hit a Girl: Most of his protagonists except for Wei Xiaobao.

The typical Jin Yong protagonist is:

– hardworking / dedicated to improving his martial arts techniques
– is chaste (or at least wants to be chaste)
– feel a sense of Han Chinese nationalism (though some feel it more strongly than others, and their feelings about this are often complicated)
– is willing to die for the people he loves and/or his principles
– actully want to make the world a better place, or at least do the just thing

By contrast, Wei Xiaobao

– is too lazy to become a real martial artist (he won’t practice because it’s boring)
– is way less sexually inhibited than other Jin Yong protagonists
– does not give a shit about Han Chinese national (he doesn’t care whether or not somebody is Han Chinese, nor does he care whether or not the Han Chinese control China)
– is not willing to die for anything, though he is willing to fake his own death
– does not care about making the world a better place

Wei Xiaobao is not just an anti-hero. He’s an anti-Jin-Yong-hero. You really have to read several Jin Yong stories and then read this one really appreciate it.

And quite frankly, it’s refreshing to read about a protagonist who does not have the typical Jin-Yong-protagonist hangups.

That said, Wei Xiaobao is not a complete opposite of other Jin Yong protagonists. Most Jin Yong protagonists are child-like/immature/naive (pretty much the only exception to this is Qiao Feng, though Chen Jialuo is arguably neither child-like nor immature), and Wei Xiaobao is … child-like, immature, and naive. I think that the child-like quality is actually more essential to Jin Yong protagonists than, say, their sexual philosophies. What is at the heart of the stories is a sense of wonder while exploring the world, which is a child-like approach (though mature adults can do it too). To me, this is a key signature of Jin Yong’s style which sets apart his stories from most other wuxia.

Qing Dynasty Curio Box

Much of the imperial collections of the Qing Dynasty court are in Taipei, and a fraction is on display at the National Palace Museum.

This image comes from Qing Dynasty Treasures on Pineterest

The Qing Dynasty court loved curio boxes. First of all, the boxes had creative designs, often to show off the contents in unusual ways, or with secret compartments. The contents could be artifacts from thousands of years ago, weird baubbles imported from Europe, or the fine work of the imperial artisans (and many other things beside – it could be anything that would fit into a box and delight the viewer).

To me, this novel feels like a Qing Dynasty court curio box, which is appropriate, since most of the novel does take place in the Qing dynasty court. There are lots of secrets to be uncovered, and lots of plot twists to delight the reader.

I want to give examples, but every single example would be a spoiler, so instead I am going to make something up – Wei Xiaobao notices that a middle-aged man always appears at a gambling house in Beijing on the 7th day of the month, that this mysterious man is an excellent martial artist, and that this man wants to hide, not find, the “Sutra of 42 Chapters.” Wei Xiaobao eventully finds out that this “man” is actually a woman – specficially Qingqing from The Sword Stained with Royal Blood. After Wei Xiaobao discovers her true identity, Qingqing captures him and takes him all the way to Brunei, where she has a beautiful daughter who decides that Wei Xiaobao is an excellent punching bag.

This doesn’t actually happen in the novel, but it’s like the things which do happen in the novel.

Language

This novel is very playful with it’s language, which I’m sure gives the translators ~~painful headaches~~ a wonderful challenge.

Wei Xiaobao himself is illiterate, and is too lazy to even learn the Cyrillic alphabet (Wei Xiaobao knows some Russian), let alone the Chinese writing sytem.

However, because he needs to pick up imperial etiquette mighty quickly to keep his head attached to his shoulders, he ends up learning this formal imperial language quite well.

What he does not learn, however, is how to speak as an educated person. Or rather, he learns it, but incorrectly. For example, there is a phrase – ‘it’s hard to chase four horses’. Wei Xiaobao always says it as ‘it’s hard to chase a dead horse’ (the Chinese word for ‘four’ sounds like the word for ‘death’), and furthermore often uses the phrase for totally inappropriate situations.

Of course, while Wei Xiaobao cannot use proper formal Chinese, he is a poet of gutter Chinese. This novel is full of foul language, and some of the humor comes from Wei Xiaobao using foul laguange inside the Forbidden City. At one point, Wei Xiaobao says something like ‘[character] is wearing a hat of fine emerald’. People who are familiar with the Chinese language can figure out that this is a very salacious comment. And then, some members of the imperial family pick up some foul language from Wei Xiaobao…

The contrast of the stiff, formal imperial Chinese with gutter Chinese is yet another level of fun in the novel. The prose in this novel may not be as beautiful as in some of Jin Yong’s other novels but, well, beautiful prose would miss the point.

I read this edition.

Sexual Abuse

At one point in the story, Wei Xiaobao overhears some people forcing a girl (probably around 10 years old) to drink something. Wei Xiaobao assumes that the drink is drugged, or at least is alcholic, and that they plan to rape her. He is totally indifferent to this.

We then learn that, where Wei Xiaobao grew up, this happened all of the time, and that all of the adults around him went along with this. In other words, he was taught that raping 10-year-old girls is OK.

This explains at LOT.

The parts of the novel which I enjoyed least were the sections where Wei Xiaobao was persistently sexually harassing people. On the one hand, yes, Wei Xiaobao is a very clever prankster. If he were, say, finding clever ways to pee all over his enemies’ beds (like a certain other Jin Yong protagonist), I would have had a blast.

But while I think pranking is fun, sexual harassment is not fun. I’m not saying this to be politically correct, I mean that, in my guts, sexual harassment feels bad.

So here I was, with long sections of this novel which would have been a lot of fun if Wei Xiaobao’s pranks had not been a form of sexual harassment. It was a drag.

(the rest of this section has spoilers)

Of course, Wei Xiaobao wouldn’t actually rape anybody, would he? He’s so cute and adorable, and most of the beautiful female characters could easily beat him to a pulp.

One of the most common defences of rapists is “but he’s such a charming guy – he can’t be a rapist” (or variations of this defence). Also, when people mention that they are being sexually harassed (for example, female bloggers receiving rape threats from anonymous commenters), they’re often told that there’s no danger, and that they should just ignore it. There’s also this myth that most rapes could be prevented by potential victims being armed, or learning self-defence, when in fact this would only prevent a minority of rapes.

Well, I have to give Jin Yong points for realism. Wei Xiaobao was raised to think that rape is OK, and nobody expelled this notion out of his head. When one of his victims complain about the sexual harassment, other chracters explain it away by saying that Wei Xiaobao doesn’t have any bad intentions, and that she shouldn’t take him too seriously. And the physical capabilities of his targets is irrelevant if he drugs their drinks.

The one thing which I cannot buy is that two of his victims start liking him after Wei Xiaobao rapes them. I’m not going to say this is absolutely impossible, but as a reader, I need a damn good explanation in order to believe this (even in a work of fiction). I do not get any explanation. Therefore, I had to edit my headcanon to keep the story functioning inside my headspace. It is simply not in human nature to start liking your rapist (unless there are a hell of lot of interfering factors at work).

Wei Xiaobao himself is also a victim.

At the very minimum, he’s the victim of non-consensual BDSM. It is also possible that he is a rape victim himself. The novel does not state whether or not he consented to sex with that specific character, but given a) his previous experience of non-consensual BDSM b) the fact that she often uses threats to make Wei Xiaobao do what she wants and c) Wei Xiaobao tries to avoid her precisely because he’s scared that she will cause him physical harm, I have my doubts.

Just because Wei Xiaobao himself is a perpertrator does not mean it is okay to sexually abuse him. Two wrongs do not make a right, especially when it comes to sexual abuse. I admit there were times when I wished someone would kick Wei Xiaobao in the nuts, but even that would only be okay in certain circumstances (such as self-defence).

Does Wei Xiaobao take his feelings of being on the receiving end of sexual abuse, and connect it to the way that he is making his victims feel? Of course not – Wei Xiaobao is terrible at empathy.

I’m Not Done!

Next week, I will continue to discuss this novel. If you can’t wait for the conclusion, it’s “READ THIS NOVEL!”

***

Sara K. is dealing with major technical difficulties right now. If you liked this post, you should thank Sara K.’s father, for if he hadn’t impressed on her that she should always be prepared to run a computer without using a hard drive, there is no way this post would have been finished on time. Right now, she is running the computer off a Class 10 SDHC card, which is thanks to her uncle’s suggestion.

It Came from the Sinosphere: Datang Shuanglong Zhuan

April 30, 2013 by Sara K. 1 Comment

The best English translation of the title I recall encountering is Tang Dynasty Dragon Duo, but it just sounds better is Chinese, which is why many people use the Chinese title even when discussing the book in English.

The Story

The story is set at the end of the Sui dynasty, which is on the verge of collapse. Everybody sees this as an opportunity to grab power.

Xu Ziling

Enter two orphans living on the street, Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling. They only have their wits and each other. They just happen to get the precious martial arts manual Changsheng Jue, which makes them targets. They are rescued by Fu Junzhuo, a martial artist from Koguryo (Korea), and they accept her as their mother … then she dies.

Kou Zhong

Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling study the Changsheng Jue, and become martial artists themselves – but more dangerous than their martial arts are their cleverness and capacity for strategic thinking. Xu Ziling ambition is to merely get revenge for their mother (Fu Junzhuo), take care of their sister Susu, and have fun wandering around. Kou Zhong, on the other hand, wants to … how can I say it in English … “take over the world”?

And therein lies conflict. Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling, closer than brothers, are the most important people to each other in the world. Xu Ziling wants to do what’s right for the common people of China, and deep down, he suspects that Kou Zhong’s ambitions are not in the common people’s best interests. In the medium term, they are united by their desire to get revenge for Fu Junzhuo and care for Susu. Yet Kou Zhong does not want to give up his dream of demonstrating his might to the world, Xu Ziling does not want to let Kou Zhong cause suffering to the common people, and neither wants to destroy their relationship. In the long run … something has to give.

Background

This is Huang Yi’s longest and most popular novel, in fact, it’s probably the most popular wuxia novel of the 1990s. Right around the time that wuxia was ‘dying’, Huang Yi’s fiction appeared, and became very popular in Hong Kong and Taiwan. For an interesting take on Huang Yi, go to the Science Fiction Encyclopedia.

Datang Shuanglong Zhuan has been adapted into two TV shows, Twin of Brothers (2004/Cantonese) and Twin of Brothers (2011/Mandarin), and there are more planned. There is also a manhua adaptation by Tony Wong.

This novel is so popular that, when I mention that I’ve read it to Taiwanese men, the most common reaction is ‘oh, that’s a good book, I’ve read it too’. The fact that almost every general bookstore in Taiwan has a copy on hand speaks literally volumes – (the Taiwanese revised edition contains twenty volumes, which takes quite a bit of shelf space).

Female Characters

First, look at the illustrations of the Dramatis Personae throughout this post. Do you notice a pattern?

I do. The female characters are all showing off skin and/or their figures, in other words, there is an emphasis on their sex appeal. None of the male characters are showing off their skin or figures, so while they are not unattractive, they are not primarily being shown as sex objects.

I find it particularly implausible that Li Xiuning, who as a princess has to follow lots of rules about social propriety, would ever been found in a pose like this (except maybe in the private company of her husband)

To some extent, this reflects how the novel depicts the characters. Female characters are frequently noted for their beauty, so much so that I sometimes had trouble distinguishing Super-Beautiful-Woman 1 from Super-Beautiful-Woman 2. Meanwhile, there is little to no comment on male beauty. Yes, I know this is typical in wuxia, but this novel takes it further than most.

That said, women aren’t just considered romance/sex objects. Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling want to get revenge for their mother because she cared for them, not because of her romance/sex appeal. Then their is their sister, Susu, who they value simply for being herself (and she is one of the few young women who is not described as being super-beautiful).

The female characters, of course, to the greatest extent they can, are active agents, organizing attacks and manipulating the situation to further their own goals … but that goes without saying. While wuxia fiction has plenty of sexism, at least it’s taken for granted that female characters will set their own agendas, and do what they can to make their agendas happen, and that if they have tools, they can do a lot. The same is, alas, not a given in English-language speculative fiction.

Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling’s Relationship

90% of what kept me flipping the pages is the relationship between Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling, in other words, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In particular, watching Kou Zhong was fascinating. He wishes he were light Light Yagami in Death Note so he could pursue his ambitions without his feelings getting in the way … but unfortunately (fortunately?) for him, he’s got a big, squishy, sentimental heart.

To Kou Zhong’s credit, when he falls in love, instead of trying to kill his feelings, he makes himself vulnerable and makes a sincere effort to be a good lover. That’s why it’s so heartbreaking when he fails, and concludes that he must redouble his efforts to take over China since he cannot find any other meaning in his life.

For much of the novel, I thought it was a bit like Death Note, but with casting Light Yagami and L as brothers who are closer to each other than anyone else in the world. Both stories focus a lot on tactics and strategies for outsmarting one another (though Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling usually work together, not against each other). Towards the end, though, I realized that this story is actually more in the spirit of Basara than Death Note. Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling have a brotherly, not romantic, relationship, and they know each others’ identities, but their fundamental struggle is similar to Sarasa and Shuri’s.

It is a beautiful, deep relationship, and though Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling make friends, lovers, and even gain a mother and sister, it’s clear that nothing can replace the experience of relying on each other for survival as children in the street when everybody else ignored or abused them. That’s why the possibility of the relationship being shattered is so … dramatic.

One of the most moving parts of the story is when Kou Zhong says something to Xu Ziling. I don’t remember what Kou Zhong literally says, but I remember how Xu Ziling understands what Kou Zhong means: Kou Zhong’s love for Xu Ziling is so deep that, even if Xu Ziling betrays him, Kou Zhong would still love him.

The Length of the Novel

After I told someone how long this novel he, he replied ‘it’s like War and Peace‘. I replied ‘No, it’s not like War and Peace. War and Peace is less than 2000 pages long. The Taiwanese revised edition of Datang Shuanglong Zhuan is about 7000 pages long.’

Yes, this is the longest novel I have ever read.

I don’t think I could have marathoned it. Instead, I would read a few hundred pages, then read something else, then pick this up again and read another few hundred pages. I did, however, marathon the last 1500 pages or so.

Most readers know that a story which is only 7 pages long feels very different from a story which is 70 pages long. While they may have the same plot structure, a 70 page story can pack in a lot more detail and nuance. Furthermore, a 700 page story feels very different from a 70 page story.

Now, I can say, that the difference between a 700 and 7000 page story is just as great at between a 70 and 700 page story. I am not even sure the label ‘novel’ still applies to a 7000 page story. There is simply much more richness, depth, and subtlety possible with those extra pages.

As such, I feel like I’m misrepresenting this novel. Even though I’m focusing on Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling, who are the core of the novel, I still feel that I’m oversimplifying them because they evolve so much and show so many different facets of themselves during the course of the story.

And this feels woefully incomplete without saying more about the complex web of relationships that Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling are in (they sure don’t live in a vacuum). For example, I’ve managed to get this far in this post without mentioning Li Shimin, one of the most important characters.

Li Shimin

However … the whole point of writing something 7000 pages long is that the story does not lend itself to brevity.

This work feels very different from anything else I’ve read, and I think I’d either need to read another super-long novel, or read a series of novels with the same characters which was as long as a super-long novel, to have this kind of experience again.

My Take on the Ending (spoiler-free version)

First of all, it was not the ending I expected. Okay, even I know enough about Chinese history that I knew who was going to end up emperor of China, but otherwise … not what I was expecting.

And I was disappointed.

After reflecting on it, it’s not the ending itself which disappointed me. It actually could have been a great ending. What let me down was the execution of the ending. And that’s about as much as I can say without spoilers.

Availability in English

The novel: ha Ha ha hA HA HA HA Ha ha ha HA!

The TV shows: The 2004 TV show is available on region-free DVD with English subtitles (for sale at YesAsia.com). The 2011 TV show, as far as I know, is not available anywhere with English subtitles. I haven’t seen either show, so I cannot comment on the quality.

The manhua: As far as I know, it’s also completely unavailable in English..

Conclusion

Well, though the ending was a let-down for me, this novel was still worth it for the journey. I’d like to read another super-long novel some day, though finding the time to do so is a challenge…

For me, at least, this was a novel about how to set one’s priorities for life. Do you just try to have fun? Do you try to make the world a better place? Should you dream big? Who should be the important people in your life, and how important should they be? Should you abandon your ambition for the sake of personal relationships, and just how much wrong would the important people in your life have to commit before you would turn your back on them?

The novel makes the point that, if you have to ruin your relationships with the people closest to you to make your grand dream come true, your dream will become a nightmare.

Next Time: Hear Me (movie)

Last week, Sara K. hiked up Syueshan Main Peak, which is the second highest mountain in East Asia (aside from the Kamchatka peninsula).

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Nine Provinces

March 19, 2013 by Sara K. Leave a Comment

The Story

In ancient China, Asule is the son of the leader of a powerful northern tribe. As a child, he was sent to another tribe for rearing, then his father’s tribe came along a few years later and wiped out the tribe. Asule regarded a number of the people from that tribe as family, so to say that he is distressed is an understatement.

Asule has been designated as the heir of the tribe, even though he has older brothers, and his body is frail and weak. He’s afraid that his brothers will kill him one day, and he’s frustrated that, with his weak body, he can’t protect the people he loves.

He eventually learns that he has inherited the “green-copper blood.” If he rouses it, it grants him great physical strength, but at the cost of his ability to reason. His grandfather wants to rouse the “green-copper blood” in him to carry on the family legacy, whereas Asule’s father wants Asule to live a nice, happy life. It turns out that Asule’s father had imprisoned his grandfather because his grandfather had killed his own daughter, Asule’s aunt (it’s hinted that his grandfather killed his aunt because of the “green-copper blood”).

Though there’s a lot more about Asule’s family, but I think it’s enough to say that becoming merely dysfunctional would be an improvement.

Eventually, Asule is sent to Donglu, where he takes the name “Lü Guichen.” In Donglu, he makes two good friends, Jieye and Yuran, and interesting things are happening in Donglu…

Background

This is a novel by Jiangnan, one of China’s most popular active wuxia writers, published in traditional Chinese characters by Kadokawa.

Wait a minute … isn’t Kadokawa a Japanese publisher? Why are they publishing an wuxia novel from mainland China in Taiwan and Hong Kong?

I would like to know the answer to that. I’m sure they hope to make a profit, but I’d like to know more a bit more about their reasoning. Most of what Kadokawa publishes in Taiwan are Japanese manga and novels translated into Chinese—for example, they publish the Taiwanese edition of A Bride’s Story. Recently, I learned that they have branched into publishing original Taiwanese light novels, but as far as I know, this is the only wuxia novel as well as the only novel from China that they have published (if you know of others, please comment).

Actually, maybe I shouldn’t call this a wuxia novel. Though this novel tends to get labeled as ‘wuxia’ by bookstores, marketers, etc., and Jiangnan is considered a “wuxia” writer, Jiangnan himself says that this novel is a “betrayal”—not fantasy, not historical, not romance, and not wuxia (emphasis mine).

Jiangnan is from Anhui province, and earned a Ph.D. at Washington University. He started reading a lot about ancient Chinese history, in particular, he wanted to understand the motivations of various historical figures. It was he was trying to get into the heads of ancient Chinese strongmen that he got the inspiration which eventually led this this novel.

Speaking of history…

The History (or My Ignorance and Confusion)

As I’ve said before, I actually do not know that much about Chinese history, and that is especially true of ancient Chinese history. “The Nine Provinces” is a reference to China in the Xia and Shang dynasties. However, I couldn’t find any information about most of the geographical locations mentioned in the novel. Does that mean they are fictional, or am I so ignorant that I am looking at the wrong references? Also, I couldn’t find any information about the emperor mentioned, which makes me thing he almost certainly is fictional.

My guess is that Asule’s homeland is not in “China” since, well, “Asule” is not exactly a Chinese name. I reckon that “Donglu” is China since, after moving to Donglu, Asule takes the name “Lü Guichen,” which does sound like a Chinese name, and more significantly, he felt a need to take a “Chinese” name.

In case you don’t know, in Chinese-speaking societies, everybody who is somebody is expected to have a Chinese name, regardless of ethnicity. In Taiwan, there are some legal/business things which are impossible to carry out without a Chinese name. Though I do not have a formal Chinese name, I get asked fairly often what it is, and I eventually made one up for myself. In Chinese-speaking culture, people are supposed to change their name to fit whatever cultural context they are operating in, which includes ethnic Chinese operating outside of Chinese-speaking culture. That’s why many ethnic Chinese have “English” names like “Betty,” “Harold,” “Robin,” and so forth—to them, that is the way that different cultures should interact. That, more than the name “Lü Guichen” itself, makes “Donglu” feel like China to me.

In short, I think that Jiangnan is making up his own alternate ancient Chinese history, but I am so ignorant of Chinese history that I don’t know how much is based on actual history, and how much is based on his imagination. Maybe writing a historical novel based on his own re-imagined history is what he means when he says that this novel is a “betrayal.”

My Own Reaction

The first time I read the first volume, it didn’t engage me. I didn’t get what the big fuss was about Jiangnan. I think the problem is that it was so different from anything else I’ve read that I didn’t know where to sink in my teeth.

On the other hand, I kept it around, and eventually, I figured it was worth a second chance.

The second time, I got hooked.

It’s fascinating partially because Asule’s personal circumstances are amazingly messed up (basic rule of fiction = the more hurt the characters are, the more the audience cares), it’s fascinating partially because of the contrast of Asule’s sensitivity and perceptiveness with his “uselessness,” and it’s fascinating because Jiangnan creates a world which feels truly fresh and original (though it sure is not a world I would want to live in).

I think it makes a difference that Jiangnan’s starting point was nonfiction rather than fiction. Even though he apparently tossed out most of the facts to pursue his own ideas, his ideas come from his thoughts on ancient Chinese history, not the tropes of any particular fictional genre (though I have nothing against recycling tropes, particularly tropes I like). Reality, being stranger fiction, in some ways is more creative.

Availability in English

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

However, the mere fact that contemporary wuxia from mainland China is getting published outside of China at all is intriguing. I certainly do not expect this to get translated into English in the near future (or ever), but I wonder … would Kadokawa consider publishing this into Japanese?

Conclusion

If all wuxia novels were the same, even if they were all just like my favorites, I would be thoroughly bored of wuxia by now. However, just when I think I have a rough idea of the parameters of wuxia, surprise surprise, I find a story which falls outside of those parameters. The main reason I keep on trying different wuxia novels and writers is not because I want to relive the wonderful experiences I’ve had with certain books—re-reading those books would be much more efficient—but because discovering the range of the genre is exciting.

Granted, Jiangnan claims this is not actually an wuxia novel, but I think it’s fair to say it at least belongs to the wuxia tradition (hey, if you’re betraying tradition, you still have a relationship with it). And this novel is certainly quite different from any other wuxia novel I’ve read, or for that matter, any other novel I’ve read.

This novel is not complete, at least not in traditional Chinese characters, so I don’t know how it concludes. But I certainly intend to read future volumes.

Next Time: Ashes of Time (movie)

Sara K. actually ended up ordering volume two of The Nine Provinces online. She finds the Taiwanese system of buying books online a lot more convenient that the system in the United States (she can get the books the next day AND free shipping AND she can pay with cash, no credit card necessary). Though this is partially because Taiwan is a densely populated island, she still can’t help but feel a bit disappointed in the services offered by online booksellers in the United States.

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Eleventh Son

January 8, 2013 by Sara K. Leave a Comment

It is high time that I actually write a post about Gu Long, so here it is.

But First, the Story

Xiao has a reputation as a notorious bandit (even though nobody’s proven he committed any crime), and ends up rescuing Shen, who is The Most Beautiful Woman in the World (there are so many Most Beautiful Women in the World in wuxia fiction that it’s ridiculous – this gets lampshaded in Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero where they keep a bloody list of the most beautiful women in the world, which Zhao Guan takes exception to). Xiao and Shen end up spending a few months together, and fall in love with other. Alas, Shen is already married, to a handsome, strong, skilled, rich, well-mannered young man no less. Oh, and she’s pregnant (with her husband’s child).

Anyway, Xiao has his own matters to deal with, being an outlaw and all. Eventually, Shen’s family is murdered and Xiao is accused. Things get pretty gnarly…

Now, I Talk about Gu Long

Gu Long, along with Jin Yong (discussed previously many times in this column) and Liang Yusheng (discussed here), is considered one of the three great writers of “new wuxia”. I actually prefer to call it “Cold War wuxia” since, you know, a new generation of wuxia writers has already emerged. Gu Long is also one of the four great (Cold War) wuxia writers of Taiwan, of which he is certainly the most popular.

What I respect about Gu Long is that he created his own personal style of wuxia, and was never content with his success – he always strove to push the wuxia genre and his own craft to the limit of his ability. As such, his works feel unique, both distinct from other wuxia writers, and distinct from each other.

Gu Long studied foreign literature in college, so it should come as no surprise that his works are heavily influenced by non-Asian literature. That isn’t to say that other wuxia writers weren’t influenced by foreign writers – Jin Yong was certainly influenced by classical Greek literature and Alexandre Dumas – but studying foreign literature is one of the things which helped Gu Long break away from the conventions of the genre and make his own kind of wuxia. Some of the foreign writers who influenced him include Ernest Hemingway, Ian Fleming, John Steinbeck, and Friedrich Nietzsche.

I’m tempted to say that Gu Long’s works are ‘wuxia noir’, except his work is so diverse that I think that is too limiting.

Writing Style

Some people say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Right now, I think thousands of words are worth taking pictures of.

Here is a random page from The Bride with White Hair.

Those paragraphs are … well-sized. Actually, these paragraphs seem a bit shorter than average for Liang Yusheng – it’s not unusually for a paragraph to take up an entire page (yes, even in this big-page format). Furthermore, Liang Yusheng uses quite a range of vocabulary.

Here is a random page from a Jin Yong novel.

That is a wall of words alright. And not just any words – the vocabulary required to read this is significantly more advanced than needed to read Liang Yusheng. I reckon it took me about 90 hours to read Shè Diāo Yīngxióng Zhuàn. It’s not just non-native readers who think Jin Yong is hard – I’ve met Taiwanese people who claim they can’t read Jin Yong novels because it’s too hard (on the other hand, I’ve also seen 10-year-olds reading Jin Yong novels).

Now what about Gu Long? Here’s a random page:

It’s heavy on dialogue, and even the non-dialogue paragraphs are awfully short, heck, most of the sentences are short too. It’s not just the paragraph/sentence length – the vocabulary is also much more basic. Granted, Gu Long occasionally uses pretty advanced vocabulary, but even so, when it comes to difficulty, he’s definitely not in the same league as Jin Yong or Liang Yusheng.

I think you now understand why some learners of Chinese interested in wuxia choose to start with Gu Long.

The fact that Gu Long chooses to write mostly dialogue and sentences which are much shorter than what is standard for Chinese literature (or even conversational Chinese) definitely affects the mood. Whereas Jin Yong will go into a loving digression about tea or something, Gu Long can be so brief it’s stark.

Gu Long and Gender

Ha, I could dedicate an entire post to this topic.

Some people say that Gu Long is the most misogynist of wuxia writers. Other people say that Gu Long wrote better and showed more respect female characters than other wuxia writers.

I partially agree with both sides.

I think Gu Long has earned reputation as a misogynist. No other wuxia writer I’m familiar with comes anywhere close to saying anything as vile as what Gu Long says about women in some of his works. To be fair, the most misogynist remarks are concentrated in the villains’ mouths, however the narrator and protagonists are also guilty, and even if it’s in the villain’s mouth, it’s not much fun to read.

Now, I don’t think there is any respect in which one could claim that Gu Long writes better female characters or is more gender-egalitarian than Zheng Feng or Liang Yusheng. There are certain respects in which I think Gu Long handles female characters in a more egalitarian manner than Jin Yong or certain other wuxia writers … but in my opinion, this is more than outweighed by the misogynist bile that Gu Long sometimes pours out. It’s my impression that a much higher percentage of Jin Yong fans than Gu Long fans are female, and I think it’s because that it’s because, overall, Jin Yong is simply friendlier to a female audience.

But it’s not the sexism which most bothers me about Gu Long. It’s the gender-rigidity. Like I said, Gu Long’s works have quite a bit of variety, and some of his works are much less misogynist than others. However, everything I’ve read by him is full of statements like “All men do X because they are men” and “Women always do X. Otherwise, they would feel bad.” First of all, this erases anybody who doesn’t conform to the gender binary While I wouldn’t call Jin Yong or Liang Yusheng champions of gender diversity, they do have some characters who are not cis-gendered. But even among cis-people, there is greater differences between people of the same gender than there are between different genders. While I think there are biological between the sexes, I think gender is a social construct, and that most of the “differences” between female and male are driven by society, not biology. I strongly take exception to Gu Long’s policing of gender roles, which is far more stringent than any other writer I’ve encountered in Chinese.

I will give credit to Gu Long for offering his characters more flexibility vis-a-vis gender in Happy Heroes (which was translated into French as Les quatre brigand du Huabei), but that seems to be the exception, not the rule, for Gu Long.

Why is Gu Long more wretched than his Chinese-speaking precedents and contemporaries? I can’t definitely answer that question … but remember how I mentioned that he was strongly influenced by foreign literature? Among other things, he was influenced by the James Bond novels … and one of the lines in The Spy Who Loved Me is (trigger warning) “All women love semi-rape. They love to be taken.”

Gu Long, to his credit, has written with sensitivity at least one female character who had experienced rape, and has never managed to make a statement quite that terrible. Nonetheless, he is the only wuxia writer I know who I could ever imagine saying anything like that. Overall, his gender-policing seems to be derived much more from European and American writers than Chinese writers.

Women in The Eleventh Son

Fortunately, The Eleventh Son is quite tolerable when it comes to gender, at least by Gu Long standards. Shen, as The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, could have easily just been a fantasy object, but she’s a fully realized character with a vibrant inner life. She tries to figure why she is not in love with her fantastic husband, she is very attached to her birth family and visits them regularly, she isn’t sure how to deal with Xiao, etc. In fact, she has so much going on that she hardly has brain space left to think about her pregnancy.

Shen’s also not always a helpless victim – she has mastered a bad-ass martial art technique courtesy of her family (and thus is heavily tied up with her feelings about her family), and ends up rescuing Xiao more than once. Eventually, she is the one who decides how to resolve the love triangle between Xiao, her husband, and herself.

Additionally, another female character ends up starting a successful new romance in her mid-to-late thirties (I don’t remember her exact age).

Availability in English

This novel has been published in English.

Ha, I bet you weren’t expecting that!

I haven’t read the translation myself, but the reviews I’ve read claim that it’s excellent.

Conclusion

I actually discussed Gu Long more than this novel specifically, didn’t I? That’s probably because I think this is less interesting than the other Gu Long novels I’ve read. It’s not that it’s a bad novel – it’s fast-moving and I got involved in the story and all – it’s just that I can’t think of much to say about it.

If you can read French, I recommend Les quatre brigands du Huabei (my favorite Gu Long novel so far) over this one. In fact, if The Eleventh Son hadn’t been translated into English, I would have probably chosen to write a post about Happy Heroes/Les quatre brigands du Huabei instead. However, if you can’t read French/Chinese/etc., then I actually highly recommend reading this novel. Gu Long is one of the most influential writers of the 20th century, and this is quite different from anything I’ve read in English. Most importantly, it is a fun read.

Next Time: Night Market Hero (film)

Sara K. sometimes wonders why she spends so my effort reading, watching, and writing about stuff in Chinese. After all, the global economy is speeding head-first into another crisis, the too-big-to-fail-banks and other oligarchical/monopolistic corporations have murdered democracy in the United States (and other countries), and if we don’t make radical changes right now, climate change will kill off at least 90% of the human population within 30 years. Shouldn’t she be spending her energy dealing with these issues instead? However, she also thinks that the power of popular culture is underestimated, and needs to be examined.

It Came from the Sinosphere: The Bride with White Hair

December 11, 2012 by Sara K. 2 Comments

A drawing of Zhuo Yihang and Lian Nichang

To start, allow me to translate an excerpt:

Lian Nichang crumpled a wildflower, and threw it down the mountain valley. Zhuo Yihang, stunned, watched the flower pieces float down in the wind, and suddenly said “Sister Lian, your looks should be like an everlasting flower.”

Lian Nichang laughed. “What a silly daydream! Where under the sun is there a place with everlasting spring? I say, if the old man of heaven were just like a human, having done so much thinking, even he would be old! We see each other here, bicker with each other there, the next time you see me, I fear I’ll already be an old woman with a head full of white hair!”

What she said made Zhuo Yihang’s feelings surge, and he thought “Lian Nichang really is very insightful. She hasn’t read many books, can’t compose poetry, nor fit lyrics to a song, but when she says what she thinks, aside from not having a proper meter, is simply wonderfully poetic. [Zhuo Yihang quotes poetry in Classical Chinese, which I can’t translate.] Doesn’t what she just said have the same meaning as all that classical poetry? However what she says is much easier to understand, and thus is more moving.”

Lian Ninchang laughed, and said “I just fear that when my head if full of white hair you won’t want to see me.”

Zhuo Yihang knew that she was just trying to get him to pour out his true feelings, but he found it very hard to answer her, so he tried to make light of it, and answered “when your hair turns white, I find an elixir to restore your youth.”

Lian Nichang sighed, and said “when someone else is trying to have a serious conversation,you make a joke of it.” Her mind soured, and said no more.

The foreshadowing is tickling me.

“The Bride with White Hair” is the most iconic female character in all of wuxia. She is one of the most iconic characters of all of wuxia period.

This novel has been adapted for TV five times, the most recent one being the 2012 TV drama. Additionally, there are four film adaptations, of which the best-known is the 1993 movie adaptation starring Brigette Lin as Lian Nichang. In other words, it’s one of the most-adapted wuxia stories ever.

The Story

The Ming dynasty is in decline, and the Manchus are ready to take some power. Meanwhile, there is a fierce sword fighter, known as “Jade Rakshasi” who is kicking everybody’s ass.

Zhuo Yihang meets Lian Nichang in a cave

Zhuo Yihang, of the Wudang sect, gets involved in some of the intrigues happening around the throne. During his adventures, he encounters a beautiful maiden called Lian Nichang who was raised by wolves. Later, he enters a duel with the “Jade Rakshasi” … only to discover that she is none other than Lian Nichang!

Zhuo Yihang and the Wudang elders

Anyway, Zhuo Yihang and Lian Nichang work together for a while to deal with intrigues, during which they meet Yue Mingke. While Lian Nichang and Yue Mingke are comparing notes, Lian Nichang’s sword-fighting manual gets stolen, which leads to set of adventures in which Lian Nichang becomes Tie Feilong’s adopted daughter, and Yue Mingke gets acquainted with Tie Feilong’s biological daughter Tie Shanhu. Heck, Lian Nichang and Zhuo Yihang get pretty sweet on each other. Then Zhuo Yihang becomes the leader of the Wudang sect and, well, Lian Nichang is officially their enemy…

Zhuo Yihang gets into a sword-fight

About Liang Yusheng

If you want to know about Liang Yusheng, the writer, read the Wikipedia entry and this webpage.

Mountains, trees, and sword-fighting!

It’s worth noting that one of his innovations was infusing real history into his stories, and this story is no exception – many of the characters are based on actual historical figures. I have previously mentioned another Liang Yusheng novel, Pingzong Xiaying Lu

Tie Shanhu flees for her life!

One thing which really makes Liang Yusheng stand out from other wuxia writers is how he handles female characters. He treats them pretty much the same way he treats the male characters. In many wuxia stories, it seems that the female characters’ primary purpose is to offer romantic options to the male protagonist. This is definitely not the case in Liang Yusheng stories.

The female characters are also sometimes, you know, the main character. It’s not just this novel, it’s a trend in Liang Yusheng novels.

Female Appearances

Let me state the obvious. Women are judged based on their looks far more and far more narrowly than men. They are expected to look pretty, sexy, and youthful. Actually, both mainstream Chinese and mainstream American culture have trouble imagining a woman who is pretty and sexy without looking youthful. I once heard a guy once asked a professional makeup artist why old men look dignified, but old women don’t. The professional makeup artist said this was 100% cultural, and has nothing to do with physical appearances.

The main purpose of this type of ‘female beauty’ is to please men.

Yue Mingke meets Ke Shi

One of the villains, Ke Shi, is a middle-aged woman who has managed to maintain her youthful appearance. She considers her looks as a tool to manipulate males and, thus, take their power. Likewise, she considers her young and pretty daughter to be an asset that she can trade with a man to acquire more power. Ironically, in her quest for power, she is submitting to the idea that a woman’s place is to be youthful and pretty to satisfy men’s desires.

By contrast, Lian Nichang likes youth and beauty for its own sake, not as a bait for males. Having been raised by wolves, she didn’t grow up with patriarchy. She doesn’t hate men; she loves her adopted father Tie Feilong, and becomes good friends with Yue Mingke, not to mention that she falls in love with Zhuo Yihang. She simply treats men as she would anyone else.

Lian Nichang and Zhuo Yihang meet again

People’s hair turning white while they are still young is a common trope in wuxia – in the Condor Trilogy alone there is not just one, but two characters under the age of 25 whose hair turns white. However, The Bride with White Hair explores this much more deeply.

I think white hair looks beautiful, and is a great way for a woman to look pretty while countering the male gaze. So at first I thought it was strange that Lian Nichang was so upset about the white hair. But it is an involuntary change, and she does value her youth, not to mention that the circumstances which cause her hair to turn white are extremely distressing.

Nonetheless, she at one point puts on a mask which makes her look like an old woman (aside from the hair, she still looks young). This was clearly a move to reject the male gaze.

Zhuo Yihang chases Lian Nichang through the mountains

Meanwhile, Zhuo Yihang is much more preoccupied with Lian Nichang’s looks than, well, her feelings. When he meets Lian Nichang disguised as an old woman, his response is “in my heart you look just the same as when I met you” (as in, he wouldn’t value her if she looked like an old woman in his heart) and “I will find an elixir which will restore your youth” (this time, he’s serious).

Lian Nichang fights the Red Flower Devil Woman

Since this is a society-wide problem, the female characters either have to take it, or sacrifice their social life (particularly the prospect of romance). Tie Feilong had made Mu Jiuniang his concubine because he wanted a pretty young female to satisfy his desires, and he doesn’t think about her feelings until it is too late (he deeply regrets that). Mu Jiuniang happily leaves him … but the man she marries ends up being even worse. Meanwhile, the Red Flower Devil Woman (a badass swordswoman) had left her husband because he didn’t respect her … but her own son Gongsun Lei is like his father, and considers women to be mere sex objects. Eventually, he is murdered out of revenge for a rape he had committed. “Find a lover who respects gender equality” is not helpful advice when a) you’re looking for a male lover and b) males who respect gender equality are in very short supply.

Even Lian Nichang doesn’t escape from this unscathed.

A Surprise that Made Me Think

While reading the novel, I expected this story to have a very predictable ending. Then actual ending turns out to be quite different from the “predictable” ending I imagined.

This made me think hard about the story, and helped me appreciate the novel in a much deeper way. Lian Nichang grew up among wolves, who didn’t teach her how a woman should act. She doesn’t do what a woman “should” do, she does what she wants to do. And that’s less predictable.

Availability in English

Naturally, this novel has not been published in English.

As far as I know, the only version of this story which is available legally in English is the 1993 movie. Speaking of the movie, I find Albert A. Dalia’s comparison of Lian Nichang and Mulan intriguing.

Conclusion

Now that I’ve read this novel, I now get why it’s difficult to have a serious conversation about gender and feminism in the wuxia genre without discussing this story. Even compared to wuxia novels written by women, or the other Liang Yusheng novels I’ve read, it is shockingly feminist. Heck, compared to most novels by women I’ve read in English, it is shockingly feminist. And it’s hard to shock me with feminism.

That said, this novel has plenty of flaws … much of it is totally non-memorable. But the memorable parts are enough to make this a must-read for anybody who can read Chinese and has an interest in wuxia and/or gender roles.

Next time: The Flying Guillotine (movie)

Sara K. is also shocked that she stayed up past her bed time to working on this post.

It Came From the Sinosphere: Spirit Sword

October 9, 2012 by Sara K. 12 Comments

I have previously discussed Zheng Feng’s first publishing success, Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero. While that was her first published novel, this novel is actually the first novel she wrote, though after publishing Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero she made major revisions to this one before publication. She said that, of the two, this novel was much more difficult to write, partially because she would often weep while revising it. I can believe it. In fact, she thinks she made Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero so breezy to compensate for the solemness of this novel.

So, what is this novel about?

Story Overview

The martial arts world is being menaced by the ever-growing Fire Cult. So some people try to divine how to defeat the Fire Cult. They get a prophecy, which says that to extinguish the fire (as in the Fire Cult), the spirit sword must weep.

The story starts with a boy who has the power to read other people’s minds and to sometimes see the future (yep, psychic powers). Yet even though he can sometimes see the future, he doesn’t know about his own past – he has no memory of anything that happened to him before he was five years old, and knows nothing whatsoever about his parents. Furthermore, his body is covered with strange marks. He doesn’t even know his own family name – only his nickname, ‘Ming’er’.

Meanwhile, the Fire Cult is taking over the world with its kung fu, assisted by the psychic powers of its charismatic yet monomaniacal leader, Duan Dusheng. And for some reason, the Fire Cult is seeking out Ling Xiao, a former cult member who betrayed them. Yet Ming’er knows Ling Xiao’s father, Ling Manjiang and knows that he and Ling Xiao are about the same age … how could a little boy been a member of the cult, let alone do something so terrible that the cult would still be searching for him years later.

As it so happens, while Ming’er lives with Ling Manjiang, Ling Manjiang has a relationship with a woman, and she dies after giving birth to a daughter, Ling Yun. Ling Manjiang leaves, telling Ming’er to treat Ling Yun as his own sister.

Well, as a teenager, Ming’er finally figures it out … this ‘Ling Xiao’ boy is none other than himself. His mother was mad that Ling Manjiang was falling in love with another woman, so she left him and entered the Fire Cult. Duan Dusheng recognized Ling Xiao’s psychic powers, and decided to steal them. However, in order to make use of them, Duan Dusheng had to subject Ling Xiao to heavy-duty physical torture. His mother regretted bringing her son into the Fire Cult, so she made him drink a potion which made him lose all of his memories, sent him to a safe place. The cult punished her with torture and death. During the novel, Ling Xiao occasionally angsts over the fact that he doesn’t have a single memory of the mother who made such a sacrifice for him.

And of course, because he is in fact Ling Xiao, Ling Yun happens to be his biological half-sister.

This is only the beginning of course (this novel is over a thousand pages long), but I think this is enough to get the idea. Oh, and if you don’t know Chinese, you might want to know what the meaning of the prophecy is, right?

[MAJOR SPOILER WARNING]

At some point Duan Dusheng had loses his psychic powers, but he is still practically invincible because of a special kung-fu power. But to maintain this invicibility, he needs to regularly sexually assault young women. Most of these women die, and the ones who survive usually go mad. Now, if somebody interrupted the kung-fu ceremony, Duan Dusheng would temporarily lose his invincibility, but he’s not going to let anybody get close enough to do such a thing (well, except for his victim, since the victim has to be nearby for the ceremony to work, but trying to get into the ceremony this way is a suicidal mission).

So, during the course of the novel, Ling Xiao falls in love with a woman called Qin Yanlong, whose backstory is even more complicated than Ling Xiao’s. She has observed that, in spite of all of the suffering Ling Xiao has endured, he’s not a bitter guy at all, and it’s really difficult to make him angry. In fact, he doesn’t even hate Duan Dusheng. He is so used to being tormented that he thinks it’s normal … yet he won’t allow anyone he loves to suffer. The only time he ever wanted to kill anybody is when he thought that his beloved sister, Ling Yun, had been assaulted and tortured, and the only time he ever weeped was when he thought she herself (Qin Yanlong) was dead or dying.

Qin Yanlong eventually realizes that the ‘spirit sword’ mentioned in the prophecy is Ling Xiao himself. And she puts two and two together.

[END MAJOR SPOILER WARNING]

How it Works as a Prequel

So, since I had read Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero first, I knew how things were going to end up in this story. That did not reduce the suspense. It might have actually increased the suspense, since I knew exactly how terrible things were going to get the for the main characters.

Yet there were many surprises. For example, when Qin Yanlong was first introduced as Cheng Da’s young male companion, my reaction was ‘WTH’, because a) in Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero, Qin Yanlong is female and b) in Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero, Qin Yanlong is paired with Ling Xiao, whereas Cheng Da is paired with Ji Huohe (to the extent you could call it a pair, since they were both had other partners).

And, as a fan of Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero, I greatly enjoyed seeing the characters from that novel appear in this one, though I personally would have liked to have seen more of Ji Huohe (Zheng Feng says that she plans to write a novel about Cheng Da one day … I hope we might see more of Ji Huohe in that one). Learning more about their backgrounds, particularly Qin Yanlong’s background, was also a fannish delight.

Yet it is remarkable just how different this novel is from Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero considering that many of the same characters appear in both. Whereas Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero is fleet-footed and humorous (well, it’s can also pretty grim, but the grim parts tend to be brief), Spirit Sword is somber and tragic. And it was much harder to get into Sprit Sword. I was hooked on Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero by page 10, but it took over a hundred pages for me to really get sucked into Sprit Sword.

And while Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero is definitely more fun, Spirit Sword feels like a deeper experience. I cried a lot more while reading this novel. I think it’s because of the pain level. While Ling Haotian and Zhao Guan have to suffer quite a bit in Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero, it’s not in the same league as what Ling Xiao and Qin Yanlong endure in Sprit Sword.

The fact that Zheng Feng has written two such different yet wonderful novels had only deepened my admiration for her.

The Intoxicating Atmosphere

It’s really hard to describe the feel of this novel. It’s … a lot like classic fairy tales, (the originals from Hans Christian Anderson, Brothers Grimm, etc … not the Disney versions). Those old fairy tales are often bizarre and, frankly, cruel when you take a cold look at them. Yet they form such striking impressions in one’s mind … blood red and snow white and all.

A lot of this novel like that. If you actually pause (like I did when I was trying to put in the description) you think ‘what the jianghu is that?!’ For example, while Ling Xiao is being tortured and slowly dying from the curse Duan Dusheng put on him, a woman comes into his dreams and relieves the symptoms of the curse, and Ling Xiao falls in love with her. That could come straight from a fairy-tale; a curse that kills slowly, and the mysterious dream woman who eases the pain. Or, for example, the time Qin Yanlong comes back bloodied up. It turns out that she had become friends with a tiger and her cubs, but when the tiger threatened Ling Yun, she ended up killing her friend (the tiger), getting heavily wounded herself, and begs Ling Xiao to take care of the orphaned cubs because she’s in no condition to raise them herself.

But life is like that. Or at least, a life worth living. Surprises happen. Great emotions get stirred by striking events. Whether it’s a 80 tall waterfall, or hearing that your great-aunt saw two of her children die, a full life is marked by punctures to mundane.

This novel is a bit like Please Save My Earth, and I’m not talking about the psychic powers. It sounds ridiculous when you summarize it, but makes total sense while actually experiencing it … and it just sucks you in with the complex character backgrounds and (often messed-up) interactions.

Availability in English

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Conclusion

I think you have all figured out by now that I love this novel. I’m now sad that there is currently only one un-read Zheng Feng novel left for me … but Zheng Feng is still an active writer, so I look forward to reading whatever she writes as long as her pen (or keyboard) keeps moving.

Next Time: The Love Eterne (movie)

Sara K. really did see an 80m high waterfall today. In fact, she saw a lot of waterfalls today. And rainbows. And mountains shrouded with clouds. And forest-blanked hills. And a clear, blue, cascading stream. And … you get the idea.

It Came From the Sinosphere: Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero (Part 2)

July 6, 2012 by Sara K. 6 Comments

On Tuesday, I introduced Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero. Because there is very little information about the novel available in English, I split this post into two parts. This is part two.

The Style

First of all, this is a novel that MOVES. Before the reader is five pages into the novel, an innocent girl witnesses a murder. From that point on, the story does not slow down very much, and generally only when it needs to slow down. There are a few sections where the plot loses a little momentum—particularly when focusing on Ling Haotian’s moping over Zheng Baoan—but just when I think the plot might actually drag, a new plot twist bursts in with a BAM!

One reason the novel moves so well is its accessible writing style. I would not go so far as to call it a plain writing style, but the literary flourishes are generally playful in nature. For example, there is a scene where Zhao Guan and Ling Haotian seem to be in a competition to spit out the most chengyu. However, when Zheng Feng is not having fun with words, the language is very direct and to the point.

Fighting

The most enjoyable set of fights for me was the poisoners’ tournament. It has novelty—the contestants duel by trying to out-poison each other instead of using direct combat. It has all of the classic psychological appeals—our protagonist is the underdog (Zhao Guan is the least experienced of all of the contestants) and the stakes for him are really high. And because he is the least experienced of the poisoners, he needs to rely on his wits to win, which is a lot of fun for the reader.

Fighting is a central part of Ling Haotian’s development as a character. Training is how he (tries to) take his mind off of his problems, and as a wanderer he needs to fight to defend himself. It is when he wins a tournament—not of poisoners, but of the finest fighters in the martial arts world—that everybody, including himself, finally realises that he is himself and not merely the son or brother of so-and-so.

Feminism?

One of the reasons I was so interested in reading this novel was, being written by a female, I hoped it would be less patriarchal than other wuxia novels I’ve read. Is it feminist? On the surface, no. But there are some very interesting things beneath the surface…

The two main characters are male, and they both get lots of attention from beautiful women, which makes it seem like a typical harem fantasy wuxia aimed at straight males. However, the standard wuxia-harem-fantasy-for-straight-males tends to feature a man who, while strong, is not particularly handsome, and the women who fling themselves at him tend to be young chaste maidens (please note that I use the word “tend”—of course there are exceptions). Zhao Guan, on the other hand, is so gorgeous that the novel specifically states that 80% of the young women he encounters gets a crush on him. I have come to the conclusion that he probably looks like Hu Ge.

Hu Ge, Chinese bishonen

Even with his looks, he still has to work at getting so many women, unlike the typical wuxia hero who basically has women fall into his lap. And, much as he does not like it, he often has to refrain from pursuing certain women for pragmatic reasons. Most wuxia heroes do not put so much thought into which women to pursue or not pursue—when they do refrain, it’s usually because of sexist cultural programming, not because they actually considered what might be in his or her best interests. Of course, if they actually thought about it before entering into certain problematic relationships, there would be less dramatic conflict, whereas making decisions based on sexist programming tends to increase, not decrease, dramatic conflict.

Zhao Guan of course prefers women who a pretty and not evil, but he does not care about their prior sexual history, or even if they have other sexual or romantic relationships (well, he does care about their other relationships … but in a “I won’t let him hurt her” sense and not a “how dare she have another man” sense). This lack of double standard is rather refreshing. He even takes a woman who had kidnapped and tortured him as one of his lovers. And while he does care about looks, the most beautiful women in the story are immune to his charms for some reason (*cough* the Ling brothers *cough*). This does not look so much like a fantasy for straight males to me. This looks like a fantasy for straight fangirls who want a hot guy who won’t turn them down.

What about straight fangirls who are not physically pretty? They have Ling Haotian. The most beautiful women in the story all fall for him or one of his brothers, not Zhao Guan. Meanwhile, Zheng Baoan, while not ugly, is said to be the plainest-looking young woman in the story. Yet she is the only woman that both Ling Biyi and Ling Haotian want. Even though they can get women who are far, far more beautiful. And they are both hot dudes. This is unambiguously a fantasy aimed at straight female readers.

Speaking of Zheng Baoan, she’s a cool character herself; she’s sweet, reserved, feminine, and tough as nails. Ling Haotian says she is far braver than he (I agree). Whereas Ling Haotian generally runs away from problems, Zheng Baoan confronts them. And while he’s busy angsting over his feelings for her, Zheng Baoan is too busy saving his life to indulge in angst. I like characters like this because they illustrate that courage is just as compatible with femininity as with masculinity.

And then there’s the gender-reversal in Zhao Guan’s story. First of all, instead of being a girl who has heard her parents say they wished she were a boy, Zhao Guan hears his mother wishing she had a daughter, and the other people who take care of him as a child keep on saying it is such a pity he is not a girl. Wuxia novels have no shortage of women who, for various reasons, dress and try to pass as male. No woman does that in this novel. Instead, it is Zhao Guan who sometimes tries to pass as female. His reason is very practical—he needs to hide from his enemies, and it is sometimes safer for him to present himself as female than male. However, he feels no shame in dressing as a woman. This reflects that he really, really does think females are equal to males—he has no reason to be ashamed of being perceived as female. Now count the number of straight men in your life who would not experience any shame or embarrassment if they had to dress up and pass as women.

And speaking of gender reversal, there’s Zhao Guan’s mother herself. She basically lives the live of a male wuxia hero without being male. She overcame childhood tragedy, mastered various martial arts skills, rescues the weak and innocent, punishes wrongdoers, became the leader of a martial arts faction, drinks alcohol, and has her own (reverse) harem. It’s a pity that she has to die so early in the novel … I’d be willing to read a novel which features her as the main character.

How the Novel Made Me Feel

Back in the later years of elementary school and in middle school, I voraciously gobbled up whatever decent-or-better fantasy novels came my way. I did it because it went beyond fun. I lived the exciting adventures of those characters.

Reading this novel brought that feeling back for me. I read this novel at a steady clip of about 145 pages per day—which may not seem like that much until you realize a) I didn’t start studying Chinese until I was in my 20s and b) I often had to put the book down to savor some bit which had captured my imagination. This novel dominated my life while I was reading it, and the story is still ringing through my mindspace.

And … CURSE YOU ZHANG FENG FOR WRITING THAT ENDING! YOU MADE ME CRY!

Availability

The only part of this novel that is available in English (or any other non-Asian language) is the excerpt I translated for this review. There is not even an unfinished fan translation.

I know the handful of wuxia novels which have been published into English or French have not been best-sellers (if any wuxia novels have been published into any non-Asian languages other than English or French, please comment—I want to keep track of all wuxia novels published in non-Asian languages). However, just as contemporary manga tends to be more commercially successful in English translation than classic manga, I suspect contemporary wuxia might be more commercially successful than classic wuxia in the English-speaking world. I think a publisher could make money bringing out this novel in English if they marketed it properly. Now, once enough people in the English speaking world are hooked on wuxia, the classic novels could come out, heh heh heh…

At the very least, it is available in both simplified and traditional characters. For those learning Chinese as a foreign language, I think this novel is a good pick because it has such an accessible style. Is it the easiest novel to read on linguistic grounds? No. But it is entertaining and fast-paced, which in my opinion is more important than whether the grammar or vocabulary are easy. And compared to many other wuxia novels, the vocabulary and grammar are not hard.

Conclusion

I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that I love this novel. It is a monumental artistic work that a literature professor would approve of? No. But much as I love high-brow culture, sometimes I want a story which will just suck me in. This story did that. If you can, you should give it a chance to suck you in too.

Sara K. used to be really into fantasy novels. Looking back, she wonders how she found time to read all those novels considering that she also had to go school, do homework, sleep, and so forth. It gives her hope that she might be able to actually find time to read many of the wuxia novels on her reading list. And she definitely plans to read Zheng Feng’s other novels.

It Came From the Sinosphere: Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero (Part 1)

July 3, 2012 by Sara K. 9 Comments

There is not much information available about this novel in English, so I am giving it a more thorough treatment than usual, and making this a two-parter.

First, I think it’s better to show instead of describe the feel of the novel. So, before continuing, please read this short excerpt – click here to read it in English, click here to read it in Chinese.

Now that you’ve read that, you should have some idea what the novel is like, so you are ready to read this review.

Background Information

In China, this novel is titled Duōqíng Làngzǐ Chīqíng Xiá (多情浪子痴情侠), which roughly means Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero. In Taiwan it is titled (天觀雙俠) Tiān Guān Shuāng Xiá. Even though I prefer the title Tiān Guān Shuāng Xiá, it’s difficult to translate into English, so I will stick with Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero.

Wuxia has historically been dominated by male writers. To this day, if you ask somebody who is familiar with wuxia to name five writers, there is a good chance that that person will name five male writers. Fortunately, times are changing. Zheng Feng (the pen name of Chen Yu-hui) is, at least in Taiwan, the most popular contemporary wuxia novelist … and she’s not male. Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero is the novel which put her on the map.

To learn more about Zheng Feng, read this interview (English translation available here).

Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero is a sweeping wuxia novel set in China, Korea, and Mongolia. It includes naughty children and dying elders, Tibetan monks and Japanese pirates, princesses and prostitutes, Catholic missionaries and desert bandits, doctors and assassins, decadent cities and secluded mountains, desperate fugitives and frightened leaders. As the title implies, this tale revolves around two main characters.

The Passionate Wastrel

Zhao Guan loves drinking alcohol, and he loves having sex with pretty women even more … so he’s built up a reputation as a bad boy. Much of the plot of the novel follows this pattern: Zhao Guan meets a pretty woman, the pretty woman is in trouble, Zhao Guan gets her out of trouble, something happens between them (whether it’s sex, a kiss, or merely lustful fantasies on Zhao Guan’s part), and the plot moves on.

Even though he’s promiscuous, Zhao Guan does not come across as a creep because he cares a lot about what women think and how they feel. When he gets pretty women out of trouble, he does it because he does not like seeing people in trouble, not because he is trying to get sex—nor does he think they owe him sex if he does rescue them. Of course, if they do decide to have sex with him anyway, it certainly makes him happy. Furthermore, he really gets off making women happy. Of course, because he is such a good-looking young man, he makes many women happy (at least in the short term) by letting them into his bed. He often looks to the women in his life, whether or not he’s having sex with them, for advice when he has a problem of his own. And finally, he’s honest with all of his love interests—he tells them that he sleeps around, and that he is not going to stop.

However, while he seems carefree on the outside, he is haunted by the brutal murder of his mother. Years later he can still describe the scene in gruesome detail. He was lucky to survive himself. He wishes to find the killers and get revenge … but the killers left no clues, and he knows that even if he knew who the killers were, he is not match for them. Furthermore, he is almost certain that they are pursuing him in order to “finish the job”—in fact, he has numerous close calls. Thus, he often travels incognito and goes by false names lest he suffer his mother’s fate.

The Infatuated Hero

Ling Haotian is the son of Ling Xiao and Qin Yanlong (two of the most highly respected martial artists and doctors of the era) and is the younger brother of Ling Biyi and Ling Shuangfei (twin brothers who are the most promising and respected young martial artists of the generation). Ling Haotian feels it is impossible for him to live up to such high standards. He often withdraws himself, lest he disappoint somebody by not being as awesome as the rest of his family. He is very close emotionally to Zheng Baoan, his mother’s apprentice, and eventually gets a major crush on her. However he cannot bring himself to tell her how he feels.

Then the bombshell falls. Ling Haotian’s older brother Ling Biyi—who everybody claims is the most wonderful young man in the world—confesses his love for Zheng Baoan, and asks for her hand in marriage. Everybody says that Zheng Baoan is really lucky. For example, Zhao Guan says that if he were into men he would definitely fall in love with Ling Biyi. It is inconceivable to everybody—including Ling Haotian—that Zheng Baoan would not return Ling Biyi’s love. Ling Haotian cannot stand to see his brother and Zheng Baoan together … so he runs away from home.

This, of course, is the beginning of his adventures. He wanders Jianghu without any particular goal, other than trying to forget about Zheng Baoan and his brother (he fails, of course). During the course of his travels, he has to fight a lot, and also ends up learning a lot of martial arts. Gradually, he gets better and better. He is so preoccupied with his unrequited love that he does not notice it when his abilities surpass that of his celebrated brothers. A couple of women hand Ling Haotian their hearts, yet the only woman in his heart is Zheng Baoan.

Trouble, of course, has a way of finding him. In fact, really, really, really big trouble finds him. If you can read Chinese, I do not want to spoil it, but if you cannot read Chinese, then I might as well say that …

[BIG SPOILER WARNING]

Ling Haotian watches his brother, Ling Biyi, die in his arms, murdered. This makes it seem even more impossible to Ling Haotian that he could ever be with Zheng Baoan. He feels he cannot love her without wronging his deceased brother (in traditional Chinese culture, marrying your brother’s widow is considered a major taboo). When Ling Haotian brings his brother’s body back home, his parents treat him as a monster. It turns out that his other brother, Ling Shuangfei, had accused Ling Haotian of committing the murder out of jealousy over Zheng Baoan. Furthermore, Ling Haotian is framed for many other murders, meaning there are many, many martial artists seeking to get their revenge. Ling Haotian wants to avenge his brother’s death and clear his name—until he finds out that the man who murdered Ling Biyi is none other than his other brother, Ling Shuangfei!

Does he murder Ling Shuangfei (his own brother), or leave the death of Ling Biyi (who is also his brother) unavenged? Should he tell everybody the truth about the murder? Would anybody believe him?

Of course, with almost everybody in Jianghu trying to kill him, Ling Haotian will not live long without help. It just so happens that one of the only people who believes in Ling Haotian’s innocence is Zhao Guan … and Zhao Guan knows a thing or two about hiding from people trying to kill him.

It turns out that not only is Ling Xiao not Ling Biyi and Ling Shuangfei’s biological father, but that he killed their biological father. Ling Shuangfei murdered Ling Biyi because Ling Biyi refused to work with him to get revenge for their biological father. It turns out that Ling Shuangfei and Ling Biyi’s half-sister, trying to avenge their father’s death, is the one framing Ling Haotian for so many murders … and is also responsible for the murder of Zhao Guan’s mother!

[END SPOILER WARNING]

Yep, in Ling Haotian’s life, when it rains, it pours.

So that is a basic overview of the novel. In Part II, which will appear on Friday, I will express my opinion. Until then…

What is your impression of this novel based on this overview?

UPDATE: Part II is up!

There is no question about it now … Sara K. is now officially a wuxia fan. The more she learns about wuxia, the more novels she wants to read, and her reading list is growing faster than she can actually read them. And she still wants to read other things. Maybe she will one day grow tired of wuxia novels, but she thinks that will take a while.

It Came From the Sinosphere: The Book and the Sword

June 12, 2012 by Sara K. 4 Comments

Opening

To kick off this review, I will go over the first three pages of the novel. Here’s a summary:

Page One: Li Yuanzhi, a 14-year-old girl, sees her school teacher, Lu Feiqing, kill flies by shooting golden needles at them. She begs him to teach her how to do it.

Page Two: Lu Feiqing accepts Li Yuanzhi as his kung-fu disciple.

Page Three: Li Yuanzhi eagerly awaits her first lesson. Lu Feiqing arrives late, injured, soaked with blood, and he tells Li Yuanzhi to close the door and be quiet.

Right there, on the first page of the novel, we get the first glimpse of the writer’s imagination. He does not merely kill the flies, he kills them by SHOOTING GOLDEN NEEDLES AT THEM!!! Li Yuanzhi seems to be a spunky girl, which is always a good sign. And of course, page three sets up some suspense and promises a fast-moving story with plenty of action.

With an opening like this, I was pretty excited to read this novel.

Background

The Book and the Sword is Jin Yong’s first novel. Jin Yong (English name: Louis Cha) is the most popular Chinese-language novelist of the 20th century. He is one of the most popular novelists of the 20th century period. The Book and the Sword was a sensation when it was first published in 1955-1956, and to this day it is still adapted for television (the most recent TV adaptation was made in 2008).

Brief Plot Overview

The story is set during the reign of Emperor Qianlong of the Manchu dynasty. The Red Flower Society is a secret society of sword and kung-fu fighters who want to restore rule by Han Chinese. I think the conflict here is really obvious.

One of the members of the Red Flower Society, Wen Tailai, discovers Emperor Qianlong’s greatest secret, so he is captured in order to silence him and the Red Flower Society has to rescue him.

Meanwhile, an Uyghur tribe is trying to recover their copy of the Quran (the “book” referenced in the title). Chen Jialuo, a Red Flower Society member and the chief protagonist, helps them, and in return the leader’s daughter Huotongqing gives him a sword (the “sword” referenced in the title).

As the plot gets thicker, things get messier, especially after the emperor’s secret gets spilled and Kasili (aka Princess Fragrance) gets involved.

The Bad

Chen Jialuo is the most boring of Jin Yong’s main characters. He is virtuous, a good fighter … and that’s pretty much it. Almost all other Jin Yong leads are also virtuous and good fighters, but they generally have personalities too. Chen Jialuo does not, or at least his personality is so flimsy it does not count.

The worst is that he almost never experiences doubt or inner conflict, or questions himself, not even in a “Do I kill the man who caused my father’s death or do I marry his daughter instead?” kind of way. This is especially bad because he is put in situations where 99% of the human population would experience inner conflict, yet he does not. For example, towards the end of the novel, he has to choose between keeping something precious to him, or doing what he thinks is in the interest of the greater good. He goes ahead and does what he thinks is in the interest of the greater good without hesitation or even suffering. The explanation is that he thinks he is going to paradise after he dies, so it does not really matter if he has want he wants in life. Not only is this less interesting than actual conflict, it also rings false. Even people who believe in paradise, believe they are going there, and use that thought to console themselves would experience some reluctance and pain when they give up something precious. The fact that Chen Jialuo does not experience this makes me think that either this thing is not actually precious to him, or that he’s not human.

And then there is keeping track of the cast. There are other Jin Yong novels with a far larger cast of characters (Yǐ Tiān Tú Lóng Jì and Tiān Lóng Bā Bù come to mind), yet this is the only Jin Yong novel where I had serious trouble keeping track of who was who—particularly the various members of the Red Flower Society. I was able to keep track of Li Yuanzhi and Lu Feiqing pretty well because of the memorable opening of the novel, but most characters did not get such a memorable opening, so it was hard to sort out who is just a minor character and who is somebody I should actually remember, especially when a bunch of characters are introduced at the same time. In later novels, Jin Yong handles this much better. Significant characters generally get a memorable introduction, and are generally introduced one by one instead of in a batch.

And there are the fights. Many of the sword fights are just good guys and bad guys finding themselves in the same place at the same time, therefore they fight. All of the sword techniques are generic. It gets pretty monotonous. To contrast this with an excellent Jin Yong fight where the sword techniques are well described and interesting to follow, as well as having psychological depth, read my post The Condor Trilogy in Manhua: Fighting. To be fair, the fights in the second part of the novel are better, with more variety and human interest, but they still do not measure up to the fights in later Jin Yong novels.

So, what did I like about the novel?

The Good

First of all, there is Emperor Qianlong’s secret. It is a good secret. I will not spoil it here.

Then there is Jin Yong’s imagination. It is evident in passages like this:

過了良久良久，陳家洛才慢慢放開了她，望著她暈紅的臉頰，忽見她身後一面破碎的鏡子，兩人互相摟抱著的人影在每片碎片中映照出來，幻作無數化身，低聲道：“你瞧，世界上就是有一千個我，這一千個我總還是抱著你。”

“After a long time passed, Chen Jialuo slowly let her free, gazing at her blushing cheeks. Suddenly he saw behind her the shattered mirror, the reflection of two people hugging each other visible in every fragment, fantastic countless incarnations of themselves. He murmured ‘You see, the world is just a thousand Chen Jialuos, these thousand Chen Jialuos all embracing you.'”

(Please forgive my English translation for not being as elegantly phrased as the Chinese original.)

His imagination sometimes manifests himself for just a moment, like above, and it sometimes manifests itself for an entire scene, such when the characters are running around in the desert city.

Of course, Jin Yong got lots of ideas from Chinese history and lore. For example, Princess Fragrance was inspired by the Fragrant Concubine, who, according to legend, was an Uyghur woman with beautiful looks and an even more beautiful smell. Jin Yong is at good at picking which ideas to borrow, and the historical background adds another layer to the story. He skillfully weaves his own ideas with other people’s ideas into a fresh narrative.

One of my favorite scenes in the novel is when Chen Jialuo goes to visit his mother. This is one of the rare times in the novels where Chen Jialuo actually seems heartbroken. He had been delaying visiting his mother because of his duties at the Red Flower Society, and when he finally does it he learns that she has just died. I can sympathize. I was actually more moved by this scene than certain scenes in other Jin Yong novels where mothers commit suicide right in front of their sons (a lot of main characters watch their mothers commit suicide in Jin Yong novels). Of course, Emperor Qianlong happens to be around when Chen Jialuo pays his respects to his late mother. This helps set up the reveal of the emperor’s secret, and foreshadows later events in the novel.

Availability in English

The Book and the Sword has been translated into English by Graham Earnshaw and published by Oxford University Press. It is supposed to include a character glossary, which I would have found really useful when I was reading the novel. Excerpts from this translation are available at Graham Earnshaw’s website, but I must note that some of the later excerpts might contain spoilers. Considering how expensive this translation is, borrowing it from the library is the most practical option.

I have only taken a brief look at the translation through Graham Earnshaw’s website, but based on what I looked at, it seems alright.

Conclusion

I really, really wanted to like this novel … but it should be apparent that my efforts to like this novel failed. In fact, this is the only Jin Yong novel I do not like.

That said, I am still glad I read it. It deepened my appreciation for Jin Yong. Some of his techniques are more obvious in this novel than in other novels. Some of the ways this novel does not work for me helps me understand how other Jin Yong novels do work for me.

And finally, I am in the minority, at least among people who have expressed in English their opinions of this novel. Most people who have reviewed the Earnshaw translation have a positive opinion of the novel.

Still, why they decided to publish this in English and not Shè Diāo Yīngxióng Zhuàn (which, in my opinion, is the best choice for people who have never read a Jin Yong novel) is beyond me.

Next Time: Divine Melody (manhua)

The Book and the Sword was technically the first novel Sara K. ever tried to read in Chinese. Of course, considering that she knew less than 800 characters at the time of her first attempt, she did not get very far (she did it more as an experiment than as a serious attempt). She did learn that it would probably be better to slide into rather then leap into Jin Yong … and then she saw Lee Chi Ching’s The Eagle Shooting Heroes in bookstores, and the rest is history.

Comic Conversion: The Alchemist

January 5, 2012 by Angela Eastman 1 Comment

The Alchemist | Novel: Paulo Coelho / HarperSanFransisco | Graphic Novel: Derek Ruiz and Daniel Sampere / HarperOne

Santiago, a shepherd from Andalusia, has had the same dream twice, in which an angel brings him to the pyramids of Egypt and tells him that this is where he will find his treasure. Just as Santiago is about to pass on the suggestion he encounters a king, who tells the boy he should listen to the omens and follow his dream, for that is his Personal Legend—the one thing he is meant to do in this world. Thus begins the shepherd’s journey into Africa, where he meets a thief, a merchant, an Englishman, a woman, and an alchemist, and learns how difficult and how rewarding it can be to follow your dreams through to the end.

Originally published in Portuguese in 1988, Paulo Coelho’s novel The Alchemist has sold millions of copies and inspired quite a following. Really, it’s unsurprising that someone would try to make a graphic novel out of it. In his introduction, Paulo Coelho goes on about how the Sea Lion Books adaptation is exactly what he dreamed of, so I went into the graphic novel (adapted by Derek Ruiz with art by Daniel Sampere) with relatively high hopes, but I soon found those hopes petering out.

The Alchemist is a parable for following your dreams, and much of the prose reads like a fable. The narrative voice is one of the star aspects of the novel, moving the story at a steady pace from one thing to the next. It creates an easy flow that carries the reader through the book even where there is minimal action. The graphic novel takes much of that narration out, and that’s probably for the best. Most of the original narration is replaced with first-person introspection from Santiago, keeping the reader in Santiago’s mind and also preventing the art from being covered with blocks of text.

The pacing of the graphic novel still gets clunky. There isn’t always a clear transition between scenes, with some pages literally jumping from day to night without warning. Sampere and Ruiz also don’t always give the proper amount of panel space to things. The image of Santiago becoming a monster and killing his sheep—a passing thought in the novel—is given 3/4 of a page, while his vision of the oasis being attacked isn’t granted a single image.

The art does do an able job of showing other things, filling in settings described in the novel with stalls, buildings and palm trees. There are times, however, when the art is less vivid even than Coelho’s sparse descriptions. When Santiago enters the chieftains’ tent we’re given this description: “The ground was covered with the most beautiful carpets he had ever walked upon, and from the top of the structure hung lamps of handwrought gold.” This doesn’t seem too difficult to recreate, but the graphic novel shows us only an empty, blank room.

Even while it merely matches or falls behind the descriptions in the original book, the graphic novel does take the opportunity to allow for a different view of a situation. When Santiago first shows up in Africa, a tavern owner tries to warn him about a thief, but because they don’t speak the same language Santiago thinks he’s assaulting him. In the graphic novel the tavern owner is given dialogue, so we see before Santiago does that the man is trying to help him, and we understand the trap he’s walking into. The graphic novel also offers its own interpretation of some of the more abstract parts of Coelho’s story, such as when Santiago is talking to the wind. Coelho describes it like any windstorm, but Sampere and Ruiz decide to portray the wind with the form of a woman. It’s a pretty straightforward, unadventurous interpretation of the scene, but it’s also one of the few times that the artist and script writer seem to put their own vision into the comic.

One big issue I had with the graphic novel was its persistent grammar problems. While some were minor and might not be noticed by someone breezing through the story, this isn’t just my inner English major getting riled up. While the grammar mistakes are prevalent throughout (the artist’s introduction in particular is a horror to read) the real problem is that the mistakes are in lines that were copied verbatim from the novel. So, someone got it right once, and still the graphic novel managed to mess it up. That might not be the biggest deal, but it reeks of laziness that exists in other parts of the graphic novel as well, such as inconsistent character art and insufficient time spent on important characters like Fatima, the woman Santiago falls in love with.

There are a number of things The Alchemist: A Graphic Novel does right, at least compared to other comic adaptations. Narration is minimized in favor of character dialogue, and Coelho is more or less correct in saying that “the graphic novel does not lose the essence of the story,” as the original points he tried to make in his novel are still relatively clear. But there are also a number of little things that stack up against the adaptation. The clunkiness and occasional laziness detract from the magical feeling of the story, leaving the adaptation OK at best. The graphic novel won’t win any more readers for Coelho, so if you want to read The Alchemist, or convince a friend to give it a try, I’d suggest sticking with the original novel.

Comic Conversion: Witch & Wizard

December 9, 2011 by Angela Eastman 9 Comments

Witch & Wizard | Novel: James Patterson and Gabrielle Charbonnet / Grand Central Publishing | Manga: Svetlana Chmakova / Yen Press

One minute Whit Allgood is falling asleep in front of the TV, the next an army is breaking down his door, brandishing guns and dragging his sister Wisty out of her bed. But the biggest shock for Whit and Wisty comes when they’re accused of being a wizard and a witch by the New Order—the all new government that’s taken over the whole country—and are sentenced to death. As they struggle to survive in their jail cell, the siblings discover that they do have special powers, from telekinesis to bursting into flames. Even after they manage to break out, thanks to the help of a ghostly friend, Whit and Wisty still have to find their parents, and they might have to break back into jail to do it.

Witch & Wizard is one of the latest series to come out of the James Patterson novel mill, this time written in conjunction with Gabrielle Charbonnet. Though there was already a graphic novel adaptation from IDW, Yen Press decided to come out with their own version of the dystopian novel using artist Svetlana Chmakova, creator of Dramacon and Night School, to create Witch & Wizard: The Manga. Both versions of the story have their flaws, but one might be more worth your time than the other.

Let’s start with the novel. One good thing you can immediately say about Witch & Wizard is that it gets right into the action. The story has barely started before the New Order troops are breaking down the Allgoods’ door. It doesn’t slow down much from there, even when the siblings are locked in prison, as they deal with sadistic jailers and have to fight a pack of mad dogs for food and water. The short chapters (most only last 1 or 2 pages) help create the illusion that you are speeding through the book. But even with all the rapid action, the story can get pretty clunky at times. You’ll start the next chapter, and suddenly Whit and Wisty are somewhere else, or there’s someone new in the scene who wasn’t there before. And the short chapters, while helping you feel like the book is a fast read, hurt the overall smoothness of the longer, more dramatic scenes.

Whit and Wisty are certainly fun characters, with their wisecracks, determination, and magical powers. Wisty in particular has an entertaining, sarcastic tone. But unfortunately, it’s all surface. Though the story is in first person for both characters, you never feel like you get truly, deeply in their heads. Even when the story pauses for inner thoughts it’s pretty generic, like how awful or cool or sad something is. Then there is the villain, The One Who Is The One, who should be dark and terrifying… but for some reason, Patterson and Charbonnet have him spouting some of the weirdest lines. They range from awkward – “I can even shut your sister up!” – to just plain goofy – “TRICKS ARE FOR KIDS!” – and really diminish the fear readers should have of this all-powerful villain.

Now we come to Yen Press’s manga adaptation by Svetlana Chmakova. The visual aspect of the comic actually helps with the clunky-ness in the book. New character appearances are less sudden, and we see the transition from one place to another, so there’s no flipping back a page to see how Whit and Wisty suddenly got from point A to point B. Chmakova’s art also helps to brighten up some of the less-than-stellar character personalities. Sure, the villains are just as one-dimensional as in the novel, with their little dark beetle eyes, but other characters seem more human in her hands. Whit wears a blank look of shock when he discovers that Celia is a ghost, and Wisty’s range of expressions, from cartoonish excitement at living in a fancy department store to the dark, narrow-eyed look when she casts her angry spells, make this witch even more fun and exciting than her novel version.

Despite the pace of the original, cuts were needed to fit the whole story into a single graphic novel. We miss out on some interesting shows of magic, like when Wisty floats in her sleep, or Whit speeds himself up to handily defeat some guards. But the comic also does away with some bits I didn’t care for, most obviously The One’s horrible, cheesy lines. The One still isn’t as dark and foreboding as I would like (you can always go creepier) but at least his dialogue doesn’t make me cringe.

The Witch & Wizard novel has a lot of problems that I have a hard time overlooking. While the pacing is nice and quick, the novel persistently trips itself up with awkward breaks and sudden shifts in location. And the plot, while a decently done fight-the-power dystopian, can get repetitive, takes unnecessary turns, and ends so abruptly I’m honestly surprised Patterson and Charbonet didn’t add in a couple more chapters to smooth things out. Chmakova’s adaptation doesn’t escape the plot issues of the original, but in streamlining the plot to fit into a single graphic novel she manages to toss out some of the minor chinks, resulting in an easier flow. When you combine that with art that is much more expressive than Patterson’s prose, overall you get a more enjoyable read. It’s still not perfect, but Witch & Wizard the manga improves enough on the original to be worth your money.

Now You’re One of Us

August 3, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

Noriko, the young heroine of Asa Nonami’s Now You’re One of Us, initially thinks she’s hit the marriage jackpot. Not only are her in-laws wealthy and well regarded by their neighbors, they’re also quick to embrace her as a member of the family. Her husband Kazuhito is handsome and utterly devoted; her mother-in-law Kimie, generous and uncritical; and her sister-in-law Ayano, solicitous to everyone in the household, including Kazuhito’s oddly child-like brother Takehami. Even the Shito matriarch, ninety-eight-year-old Ei, welcomes Noriko to the clan by declaring her the family’s “treasure” and “future.”

Shortly after Noriko arrives at the Shitos’ Tokyo home, a strange, slightly disheveled neighbor approaches her while she works in the garden. Though Kimie is quick to dismiss him as a troubled tenant who’s fallen on hard times, Noriko can’t shake the feeling that the neighbor was about to divulge something damning — a feeling intensified by his mysterious death in a fire several days later. The Shitos’ oddly muted, impersonal response to his death further arouses Noriko’s suspicion, as do the family’s clandestine midnight meetings. Though the Shitos offer reasonable, measured responses to Noriko’s inquiries, she begins wondering if the Shitos run an illicit business… or worse.

Thanks to a fluid translation by Michael and Mitsuko Valek, Asa Nonami’s simple, unfussy prose draws the reader into Noriko’s insular world, showing us how a simple girl from a working class family is lured into the Shitos’ web. In this passage, for example, Nonami reveals Kazuhito to be a deft manipulator, appealing to Noriko’s vanity by suggesting that Ei’s endorsement carries special significance:

“Great Granny’s been watching people for ninety-eight years — she can see through them at a glance, so lots of people in the neighborhood come to ask her for advice.” He explained how delighted he was that Great Granny had taken a liking to her; it showed that he hadn’t been blinded by attraction. He felt like the luckiest man in the world for having found someone of whom his family approved.

Unfortunately, Nonami is never content to let a passage like this one stand alone; she feels compelled to explain how Kazuhito’s words swayed Noriko by telling us exactly what Noriko is thinking at the moment he gives this speech. The obviousness of Noriko’s interior monologues is especially frustrating; Nonami does a competent job of revealing her characters’ motivations and feelings through their actions without resorting to such editorial interventions.

The other drawback to Nonami’s storytelling is that she begins telegraphing the ending just a few chapters into the book. Savvier readers will quickly figure out what the Shitos’ secret is — and it’s a doozy — though they probably won’t mind wading through another hundred pages to have their ickiest suspicions confirmed, especially since Nonami manages a few surprises in the final pages.

The bottom line: Now You’re One of Us is an entertaining, atmospheric potboiler that’s probably best read in the privacy of one’s own home.

This review originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 2/8/08.

NOW YOU’RE ONE OF US • BY ASA NONAMI, TRANSLATED BY MICHAEL AND MITSUKO VALEK • VERTICAL, INC. • 240 pp.

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