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3.7 AVERAGE
3.7 AVERAGE
adventurous
challenging
dark
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
It’s going to take a while to compose all of my thoughts on this one. All I can say is that this is a book of devastating beauty. No one else writes like Mo Yan.
This is an impressive work of fiction. Beautiful visual descriptions, a fully imagined family and town, what seems to be a keen understanding of what was going on in small Chinese communities during the Japanese invasion/occupation. I was less engaged in the book toward the end, however.
A few things I noticed:
The narrator is the son/grandson of the two protagonists of the book but most of the events of the book take place before his birth. I found myself having to remind myself that "grandma" is a 30 year old woman and "my father" is a teenager. I found it curious that the narrator referred to things like animals (who died long before his birth) as "ours."
The timeline of this novel (or five novellas, perhaps more accurately) is somewhat challenging. Constantly backtracking and filling in scenes that happened earlier in the chronology. Also there are early mentions of events that will be written in detail in later scenes--it's not even foreshadowing, it's absolutely explicit. I found Red Sorghum a little reminiscent of a Tarantino film, although of course this book (and the movie based on it) preceded that auteur's major works.
The way the author describes the colors of things and people is often not literally possible, so I take these discrepancies to be symbolic or some kind of trick of the characters' perception. But there are several places in the book where a strange color is used and it seems to be meant literally--e.g. a green dog. I don't know what to make of this--with cultural differences in the assignment of names of colors, the translator might have tried to figure out a way to phrase things so that I would not be imagining a shamrock-green cur growling at its conspecifics.
Speaking of translation, the Goldblatt translation is a little strange, with elements of American and British English. Goldblatt is American (not Canadian) and the only thing I can guess is that maybe he has acquired British habits from English-speaking ethnic Chinese. (Like his wife, who probably also had a hand in this translation.) Or it was an intentional move, to make the translation seem more correct to such individuals? (Why would they be reading a translation, though?) Maybe it was accepted practice to translate into British spellings?
A few things I noticed:
The narrator is the son/grandson of the two protagonists of the book but most of the events of the book take place before his birth. I found myself having to remind myself that "grandma" is a 30 year old woman and "my father" is a teenager. I found it curious that the narrator referred to things like animals (who died long before his birth) as "ours."
The timeline of this novel (or five novellas, perhaps more accurately) is somewhat challenging. Constantly backtracking and filling in scenes that happened earlier in the chronology. Also there are early mentions of events that will be written in detail in later scenes--it's not even foreshadowing, it's absolutely explicit. I found Red Sorghum a little reminiscent of a Tarantino film, although of course this book (and the movie based on it) preceded that auteur's major works.
The way the author describes the colors of things and people is often not literally possible, so I take these discrepancies to be symbolic or some kind of trick of the characters' perception. But there are several places in the book where a strange color is used and it seems to be meant literally--e.g. a green dog. I don't know what to make of this--with cultural differences in the assignment of names of colors, the translator might have tried to figure out a way to phrase things so that I would not be imagining a shamrock-green cur growling at its conspecifics.
Speaking of translation, the Goldblatt translation is a little strange, with elements of American and British English. Goldblatt is American (not Canadian) and the only thing I can guess is that maybe he has acquired British habits from English-speaking ethnic Chinese. (Like his wife, who probably also had a hand in this translation.) Or it was an intentional move, to make the translation seem more correct to such individuals? (Why would they be reading a translation, though?) Maybe it was accepted practice to translate into British spellings?
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This was a tough read, and not because of the subject matter, though that was predictably grim since the book is set in China during the Japanese invasion prior to and during World War II. I struggled because I found the style and voice confusing: one narrator tells the story, but it spans multiple generations of his family. For some reason, I couldn't keep Granddad and Father straight in my head and it would take me a few sentences into a section to figure out who was the focus of the passage. Adding to my confusion, the narrator tells the story out of order, with different past timelines all jumbled together that I needed to piece together as I went along. Finally, the plot did not have a clear trajectory, linear or otherwise. The novel felt like a string of random events told out of order without much in the way of overarching connections.
The thing is, I know the author made all these choices intentionally. If I were writing a paper on this book, I could definitely talk about how the author's use of multiple timelines conveys the confusion of that turbulent time in history. I could also talk about how the choice of a first person narrator telling stories about multiple generations of family members brings immediacy to the events in the novel, which might otherwise be hard to relate to. Clearly someone thought the book's style and voice weren't huge detractors, because it won the Nobel Prize for literature. But that doesn't mean it's an easy, casual read that lends itself to being picked up and put back down again over the course of a busy day. It's not.
Still, I would recommend Red Sorghum to China and/or history buffs, or people who are looking for a non-Western perspective on World War II. The novel isn't for the faint of heart, as the author doesn't pull any punches - rightfully so, because it was a brutal period in history. If you're looking for a sympathetic portrayal of the Japanese, this is NOT it. Get ready for an average of about 3 racial slurs per page. Though to be fair, the author isn't overly kind in portraying the Chinese, either. But I definitely gained valuable insight into the infighting the Japanese invasion brought to China's countryside and the identity crisis the invasion left in its wake. Readers who start Red Sorghum and find themselves struggling should stick it out to the end, because I think the final chapter is the hardest hitting of the whole novel. If nothing else, you get a glimpse into the shadowy narrator and a little taste of resolution.
The thing is, I know the author made all these choices intentionally. If I were writing a paper on this book, I could definitely talk about how the author's use of multiple timelines conveys the confusion of that turbulent time in history. I could also talk about how the choice of a first person narrator telling stories about multiple generations of family members brings immediacy to the events in the novel, which might otherwise be hard to relate to. Clearly someone thought the book's style and voice weren't huge detractors, because it won the Nobel Prize for literature. But that doesn't mean it's an easy, casual read that lends itself to being picked up and put back down again over the course of a busy day. It's not.
Still, I would recommend Red Sorghum to China and/or history buffs, or people who are looking for a non-Western perspective on World War II. The novel isn't for the faint of heart, as the author doesn't pull any punches - rightfully so, because it was a brutal period in history. If you're looking for a sympathetic portrayal of the Japanese, this is NOT it. Get ready for an average of about 3 racial slurs per page. Though to be fair, the author isn't overly kind in portraying the Chinese, either. But I definitely gained valuable insight into the infighting the Japanese invasion brought to China's countryside and the identity crisis the invasion left in its wake. Readers who start Red Sorghum and find themselves struggling should stick it out to the end, because I think the final chapter is the hardest hitting of the whole novel. If nothing else, you get a glimpse into the shadowy narrator and a little taste of resolution.
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Without having read the original, there's a sense that the scale and beauty of the landscape is lost in an English translation that reads like an evident translation — a little stiff and stilted — which is a shame. Conversely, good translations of idiom in a way that seems prosaic and natural. Text and tone become suddenly richer and more allusive towards the end.
At its best when (among other things; this is what personally appealed) depicting the perseverance of strains of humanity, i.e. in the form of sympathy for Japanese invaders (Father, for the soldier with the photo of his wife and child in his wallet, and Pocky Cheng, who is far from delighting in vengeance), and identifying humans and animals (mules, dogs) through shame.
Enjoyed the contribution of the narrative voice towards the process of myth-making — the lack of detail about the narrator, who speaks with such confident (suspect) authority (claiming to know details, for example, that characters before their time did not) at generational and urban/rural removes, makes it easier to accept and imagine the figures of the story as those of a greater/simpler past age, as the narrator conceives of them, and reflect that the interpreting reader occupies the position of the 'pitiable, frail, suspicious, stubbornly biased child'.
At its best when (among other things; this is what personally appealed) depicting the perseverance of strains of humanity, i.e. in the form of sympathy for Japanese invaders (Father, for the soldier with the photo of his wife and child in his wallet, and Pocky Cheng, who is far from delighting in vengeance), and identifying humans and animals (mules, dogs) through shame.
Enjoyed the contribution of the narrative voice towards the process of myth-making — the lack of detail about the narrator, who speaks with such confident (suspect) authority (claiming to know details, for example, that characters before their time did not) at generational and urban/rural removes, makes it easier to accept and imagine the figures of the story as those of a greater/simpler past age, as the narrator conceives of them, and reflect that the interpreting reader occupies the position of the 'pitiable, frail, suspicious, stubbornly biased child'.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Domestic abuse, Physical abuse, Rape, Torture, Violence, War
Goed geschreven, maar ik kwam er heel slecht doorheen. Het was vrij duister en ook wel saai soms. Niet uitgelezen.
adventurous
dark
medium-paced
This might be the most conflicted I’ve been after reading a book - on the one hand the more experimental non-chronological structure was a bit confusing at first but once I realized what was going on I came to really enjoy it and thought it emphasized parallels and repetition among the multiple generations the story follows. I also loved the way that while it’s like 90% realism 10% magical the magical elements still emphasize the overall themes of love and family in hellish war settings. The terse writing further helped drive home those elements and highlighted the utter brutality and visceral violence of the Japanese occupation. In an odd way, I’d almost describe this as “One Hundred Years of Solitude written as a collaboration between Cormac McCarthy and Yu Hua and relocated to WWII China.”
On the other hand though: poop. A truly and absolutely insane amount of this book talks about feces. How do you smuggle bullets out of a Japanese controlled town? Put it up a goat’s ass and have it poop it out later. What do the Chinese troops walking down the road look like? Goat poop of course but not without digressions on other animals’ poop. What happens when the corpse eating dogs are killed? They poop obviously. It just goes on and on and on like this. And when it’s not poop, it’s urine or blood. There’s at least some semblance of thematic justification for the chilling descriptions of blood (red being an extremely important symbol in the story).
There were times I actually stopped the audiobook while eating or cooking because the piss and shit (and the scene with the honey…) just made me lose my appetite. This would be an easy 5/5 if Mo Yan hadn’t used his magnum opus (this dude won the Nobel Prize in Literature) as a canvas for his apparent anal fixation. 3.5/5
On the other hand though: poop. A truly and absolutely insane amount of this book talks about feces. How do you smuggle bullets out of a Japanese controlled town? Put it up a goat’s ass and have it poop it out later. What do the Chinese troops walking down the road look like? Goat poop of course but not without digressions on other animals’ poop. What happens when the corpse eating dogs are killed? They poop obviously. It just goes on and on and on like this. And when it’s not poop, it’s urine or blood. There’s at least some semblance of thematic justification for the chilling descriptions of blood (red being an extremely important symbol in the story).
There were times I actually stopped the audiobook while eating or cooking because the piss and shit (and the scene with the honey…) just made me lose my appetite. This would be an easy 5/5 if Mo Yan hadn’t used his magnum opus (this dude won the Nobel Prize in Literature) as a canvas for his apparent anal fixation. 3.5/5
challenging
dark
informative
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Content Warnings
Graphic: Rape, Torture, Colonisation, War