Helpful Score: 1
How would you cope if you lived in a world of lies in a world where lies were represented as truth, and truth was strictly forbidden? Would you or could you discern truth if it had been purposely withheld from you and replaced by the weakest, flimsiest propaganda one could conjure? Would you even recognize truth if it were revealed to you, or would it be too foreign, causing you to embrace the familiar? What if you possessed a keen mind and the intellectual capacity to open the doors to worlds unseen, yet had a veil placed over your eyes separating you from the world in which you rightfully belonged? Does nature trump nurture or would the complacency, fear, and defeatism of the repressive environ reign supreme?
It sounds like the stuff of good science fiction, doesnt it, like a twist on Harrison Bergeron or 1984? Well, in this instance, its not rather falling into the realm of historical fiction. This is the world woven into Dai Sajies elegant, simple tale chronicling the struggles of two young victims of Mao Tse-tungs folly in his 2000 release, Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress.
This book is set in the early 70s during the later stages of Maos Cultural Revolution (certainly one of recent historys greatest misnomers), focusing on the plight of an unnamed protagonist and his friend, Luo. The two young men, branded as young intellectuals and sons of potential dissidents, are assigned for re-education at a small, mountain village comprised of former opium producers cum converted Communists. They are separated, seemingly irrevocably, from their families, and condemned to the bowels of intellectual retardation. They do possess the requisite intelligence, desire, and determination to wade through the shit and strive for truth, but they are also saddled with tremendous obstacles.
Their physical circumstances (and obstacles) mimic their intellectual circumstances (and obstacles), the futility of these respective positions subtly illustrated in this unspoken analogy (14-15):
"What we dreaded most of all was having to carry buckets of shit on our backs. These wooden buckets were semi-cylindrical in shape, and designed specifically for the transportation of all manner of waste, whether human or animal. Each day we had to fill the back-buckets with a mixture of excrement and water, hoist them onto our shoulders and clamber up the mountainside to the fields, many of which were situated at dizzying heights. With each step we could hear the liquid sewage sloshing in the bucket just behind our ears. The slurry would seep through the lid and trickle down our bodies until we were soaked. Dear reader, I will spare you the details of each faltering step; suffice it to say that the slightest false move was potentially fatal."
Indeed, they live in a world of shit both assailing their bodies and their minds. And even as they strive to overcome physical obstacles, they aspire to overcome the imposed mental obstacles despite the dangerous nature of such action. Providence delivers them an unlikely savior to free them from their mental enslavement - Honoré de Balzac. Fate (coupled with determination) delivers the young men a cache of forbidden Western literature, which, in turn, stimulates their minds to new levels and massages and increases their desire for enlightenment. The very act of speaking of the romantic/intellectual ideals of these books (which stand in opposition to Communist dogma) could very well spell the public humiliation, torture, or even death of the young men. Actually possessing such contraband exponentially heightens the peril. Aware of the inherent dangers, their desire for truth still outweighs the likely consequences.
Sijie wonderfully addresses this powerful theme, approaching the desire of the human spirit for enlightenment with grace and simplicity while doing nothing to deter from its power. It was likely difficult for him to understate this theme, to resist the natural urge to slam it down hard to commandeer his literary pulpit and bludgeon the reader with it. See, this tale is largely auto-biographical. Dai Sijie is a survivor of Mao-imposed re-education (a fate shared by, literally, hundreds of thousands of Chinese citizens). His loathing for this intellect-quashing repression is evident, but it is evident because the story visibly displays its folly, not because his prose is embroiled in bitterness and contempt. His restraint is remarkable, as is his tale.
This wonderful book (translated from its original French by Ina Rilke) was made into a motion picture in 2002 (directed by Sijie), and was a Golden Globe nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, losing to Almodóvars Talk to Her. For whatever reason, the Academy Award nomination committee slighted it.
Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress carries my highest recommendation. Sijies warmth and elegant, pleasing style make this a worthwhile read. When coupled with the fascinating plot and historic significance, it is elevated into must read territory.
It sounds like the stuff of good science fiction, doesnt it, like a twist on Harrison Bergeron or 1984? Well, in this instance, its not rather falling into the realm of historical fiction. This is the world woven into Dai Sajies elegant, simple tale chronicling the struggles of two young victims of Mao Tse-tungs folly in his 2000 release, Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress.
This book is set in the early 70s during the later stages of Maos Cultural Revolution (certainly one of recent historys greatest misnomers), focusing on the plight of an unnamed protagonist and his friend, Luo. The two young men, branded as young intellectuals and sons of potential dissidents, are assigned for re-education at a small, mountain village comprised of former opium producers cum converted Communists. They are separated, seemingly irrevocably, from their families, and condemned to the bowels of intellectual retardation. They do possess the requisite intelligence, desire, and determination to wade through the shit and strive for truth, but they are also saddled with tremendous obstacles.
Their physical circumstances (and obstacles) mimic their intellectual circumstances (and obstacles), the futility of these respective positions subtly illustrated in this unspoken analogy (14-15):
"What we dreaded most of all was having to carry buckets of shit on our backs. These wooden buckets were semi-cylindrical in shape, and designed specifically for the transportation of all manner of waste, whether human or animal. Each day we had to fill the back-buckets with a mixture of excrement and water, hoist them onto our shoulders and clamber up the mountainside to the fields, many of which were situated at dizzying heights. With each step we could hear the liquid sewage sloshing in the bucket just behind our ears. The slurry would seep through the lid and trickle down our bodies until we were soaked. Dear reader, I will spare you the details of each faltering step; suffice it to say that the slightest false move was potentially fatal."
Indeed, they live in a world of shit both assailing their bodies and their minds. And even as they strive to overcome physical obstacles, they aspire to overcome the imposed mental obstacles despite the dangerous nature of such action. Providence delivers them an unlikely savior to free them from their mental enslavement - Honoré de Balzac. Fate (coupled with determination) delivers the young men a cache of forbidden Western literature, which, in turn, stimulates their minds to new levels and massages and increases their desire for enlightenment. The very act of speaking of the romantic/intellectual ideals of these books (which stand in opposition to Communist dogma) could very well spell the public humiliation, torture, or even death of the young men. Actually possessing such contraband exponentially heightens the peril. Aware of the inherent dangers, their desire for truth still outweighs the likely consequences.
Sijie wonderfully addresses this powerful theme, approaching the desire of the human spirit for enlightenment with grace and simplicity while doing nothing to deter from its power. It was likely difficult for him to understate this theme, to resist the natural urge to slam it down hard to commandeer his literary pulpit and bludgeon the reader with it. See, this tale is largely auto-biographical. Dai Sijie is a survivor of Mao-imposed re-education (a fate shared by, literally, hundreds of thousands of Chinese citizens). His loathing for this intellect-quashing repression is evident, but it is evident because the story visibly displays its folly, not because his prose is embroiled in bitterness and contempt. His restraint is remarkable, as is his tale.
This wonderful book (translated from its original French by Ina Rilke) was made into a motion picture in 2002 (directed by Sijie), and was a Golden Globe nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, losing to Almodóvars Talk to Her. For whatever reason, the Academy Award nomination committee slighted it.
Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress carries my highest recommendation. Sijies warmth and elegant, pleasing style make this a worthwhile read. When coupled with the fascinating plot and historic significance, it is elevated into must read territory.
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