Debiutancki zbiór opowiadań amerykańskiej pisarki chińskiego pochodzenia Yiyun Li pokazuje, jak historia, kultura i mitologia splatają się - przypadkiem, a może z nieuchronną koniecznością - tworząc osobowość człowieka i kształtując jego los - od tętniącego życiem Pekinu przez gwarne ulice Chicago do jałowych pustkowi Mongolii. Tysiąc lat dobrych modlitw w mnogości ludzkich biografii odkrywa to, co dla nich wspólne - samotność i niezrozumienie, wyobcowanie i nieuświadomioną tęsknotę. I opisuje te na wskroś ludzkie rozczarowania i niespełnione marzenia z pełną zadumy czułością. Tłem dla opowiadań czyni autorka współczesne Chiny, których obraz - kraju zbyt szybko zachodzących zmian, upadku wartości i zagubienia - szkicuje niczym wprawny chiński malarz: kilkoma pociągnięciami, subtelnie, ale pewnie, chwytając istotę rzeczy.
Za Tysiąc lat dobrych modlitw nagrodzono autorkę licznymi nagrodami, w tym: Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award, Guardian First Book Award oraz California Book Award za debiut. Była także nominowana do Kiriyama Prize oraz Orange Prize w kategorii debiutantów.
Yiyun Li is the author of seven books, including Where Reasons End, which received the PEN/Jean Stein Book Award; the essay collection Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life; and the novels The Vagrants and Must I Go. She is the recipient of a MacArthur Fellowship, Guggenheim Fellowship, and Windham-Campbell Prize, among other honors. A contributing editor to A Public Space, she teaches at Princeton University.
Ten beautifully constructed stories about everyday life in communist China. I enjoyed these subtle, humane and affecting stories immensely and will definitely read more work of this author. The title story, “A thousand years of good prayers”, was made into a fine movie by director Wayne Wang.
Extra ***** “The happiness of love is a shooting meteor; the pain of love is the darkness following.”
After a life ***** “For each drop of water one received, one has to repay with a well.”
Immortality **** “The more a pregnant woman studies a face, the greater the possibility of the baby owning that face.”
The princess of Nebraska **** “Every place is a good place. Only time goes wrong.”
Love in the Marketplace ***** “I’ll be thinking of you until the day when all the seas in the world dry up.”
Son ***** “Maybe someday you will even come up with the old conclusion that God and Marx are the same.”
The Arrangement ***** “What a mother owes, a daughter pays back.”
Death is not a bad joke if told the right way **** “Bad luck always chooses a good man.”
Persimmons ***** “One man’s mistake can capsize a whole ship of people.”
A thousand years of good prayers ***** “Talking is like riding with an unreined horse, you don’t know where you end up and you don’t have to think about it.”
I finished this book and I have mixed feelings. Not because the stories are bad. On the contrary, they are quite good. What bothered me is that almost aggressive anti-communistic attitude. There is one sentence where old Iranian woman says "I love China. China a good country, very old" and that would be pretty much everything said positive about China (and that comes from the mouth of Iranian woman who never visited the country she's talking about!).
I don't have doubts that communism in China was quite different than communism in ex Yugoslavia (where I grew up) and therefore all those rigidness Yiyun Li is talking about is unfamiliar to me. Indeed here, there was blindness as well and rigidness and it possibly was dangerous to criticize regime but it was nothing like it has been described in this book.
I just couldn't get rid of the thoughts that author is living in the USA, is publishing book (which probably is in high percentage truth. An awful truth!) where is criticizing horribly something about huge majority of Americans (or Western world in general) don't have a clue but they "know" it's VERY bad; book about the country not very popular in the USA; book with lot black/white comparison between China and America (of course China is always and only black while America is promised land and everything about it is absolutely fantastic). She used the language and topic that will find very fertile soil in America. She described China as a hell from which every thinking Chinese wants to leave. Again, that might be truth but there must be something good there; or at least some respect about the heritage the ones who fled to America brought with themselves. But then, she's not mentioning that. And that thought has had big influence in my general opinion about the book.
As I said the stories are very good but if I'm an immigrant and a writer I doubt I'd be able to write this type of book about my mother land. Maybe that's not something I should be proud of but I simply couldn't neglect part I love.
Another book borrowed from my parents - I may even have given it to them at the time without reading it myself.
I can see why these stories won awards, they are honest, well written and realistic tales of the struggles of ordinary Chinese people (most are set in China, two in America). Taken together, they do paint quite a bleak picture, but the human spirit is always strong.
I won't attempt to describe the original stories here, but I enjoyed reading them and found them rather impressive.
These short stories, about small town or neighborhood life in contemporary China, are disturbing and yet slightly bland; many have a bit of a folk tale distance to them, a sense of the inevitable, the individual without a chance, lives already given over history and fate, people oddly finding satisfaction when everything has been taken away. Two of the stories "Immortality" which reaches back into the state eunuchs and how they supported huge extended families, and the way this kind of sacrifice extends into the present, and "Persimmons" where a village crime affects the old men sitting out in the evening, talking about their fate--aretold in second person plural, the classic voice of the village, the 'we' of the collective. These stories are tremendously deceptive, simple in language and apparent artlessness, and incredibly sophisticated in their view of the human being trapped in a life with few real choices. Stunning.
Oh I could barely make it half-way through this collection. The stories read like over-crafted anti-Chinese but pro-America narratives. The characters felt forced and the dismissive attitude of Chinese culture was a turn off. When I read an international writer, I want to be shown about the culture they are depicting, but I don't want to be constantly told or reminded what I should feel about it. Frankly, I don't understand all the praise this book has received, until I saw a the end a not-so-brief explanation of her current (2006) citizenship process in the USA, where if rejected for the second time, she and her family would have to be deported back to China. Suddenly, I felt I was reading a marketing device to enhance my sympathy rather than appreciate a writer... But what ticked me off beyond anything was having her compared to a modern day Chekhov... seriously?!
Подхванах я от чисто професионално любопитство, без да очаквам много, но я изчетох с кеф.
Писането на Июн Ли е на границата с документалното, почти журналистическо. Тя изобщо не ни/си губи времето със себе си, погледът й е насочен изцяло към проблемното в света, предполагам оттук и хладното, неукрасено разказване, което е увлекателно и по същество — не се разчита на никакви езикови трикове (кажете “езикови трикове” три пъти), макар че има някои доста приятни заигравки с наративния ритъм, рязки и въздействащи прескачания на времеви пасажи например, които спестяват езикова баластра, без да ме ощетяват от необходимата информация, а напротив — държат ме нащрек и ми гъделичкат мозъка.
Концентрацията е върху персонаж и случка. Героите й до един са хора, затулени под социалната и политическа норма, невидими хора, за които изобщо не се говори, “излишни” хора, каквото е и заглавието на първия разказ от сборника. Пенсионирана лелка, останала без пенсия; засрамени, но любящи родители на психичноболно дете; двойник на Мао Дзъдун; хомосексуални; изоставена годеница; баща на имигрантка. Изобразяването, разкриването, оличностяването на такива скрити персонажи е нещо, което все повече ценя в изкуството.
Характеристиките на всички тези хора са поставени по изключително фин и ненатрапчив начин на фона на социални и политически процеси. Да, те са такива по рождение, по съдба, но житието и светоусещанията им са неусетно зависими от политическото статукво, тоест сложните начини, по които се възприема нещото “човек” в конкретната обстановка, в случая — съвременен Китай. Без да се отдалечава от героите си и да заявява политически позиции, с историите си Июн Ли дава частична представа за тези определения на човешкото, както и за болките, които те предизвикват. Персонажите обаче са толкова незначителни и безсилни, че за тях тези процеси наистина не са нищо повече от неконтролируем природен фон.
Стратегията на завършването на разказите й е характерно объркваща. Заплетените понякога истории се разплитат и картината става ясна, но остава тежест от важни и неочевидни въпроси. Писателската стратегия на Июн Ли не е да отговаря, а да задава належащи въпроси, които друг не се сеща да зададе, колкото се може повече и колкото се може по-объркващи.
Разказите в сборника са писани на английски и са публикувани в САЩ, а на китайски са излезли единствено в Тайван. В Китай не биха минали цензурата, не толкова заради критичното третиране на реалността, което в момента е като цяло позволено, а заради спорадичното гротескно споменаване на политически и идентичностни табута.
Преводът на Анелия Данилова, която е превела и другата книга на Июн Ли — “Калната река”, ми хареса много. Върви плавно, живо и ненатрапчиво, с разчупен език и с някои доста хубави попадения. Насладих се на историите и съм й благодарен.
При наличието на цели трима редактори, както пише в карето отзад, обаче е жалко, че все пак са допуснати съвсем немалко дразнещи грешки, които в крайна сметка ми оставиха лош вкус.
На първо място, китайските имена не са минали през консултант. Това е книга с разкази за Китай, така че китаистите би трябвало да са най-потенциалните й читатели. Да не се съобрази преводът с тях е излагация. Например: китайска фамилия Фон няма, да не говорим за Сън (китайската фамилия Sun се чете Сун). “Музика Тао” е по-скоро “таоистка музика”. А да бъдат оставени цели фрази на латиница (xiu bai shi ke tong zhou), та да се чуди българският читател какво да ги прави, вместо да се попита някой за произношението им (сиу бай шъ къ тун джоу), намирам за немарливо.
Налице са и съвсем нормални преводачески пропуски, които редакторите не са изчистили, като например неуместно буквално превеждане. Това на гарата не е "платформа", а "перон". На много места имаше пълна темпорална каша заради необмислено несъответствие между времевите системи в английския и българския, например “Не видях и едно щастливо лице, откакто пристигнах”, което здраво ме препъна, вместо “Не съм видяла и едно щастливо лице, откакто пристигнах”. Пряката реч куцаше често и имаше изобилие от неестествени фрази, например “Какво има тук за мен”, вместо “Какво печеля аз”; “Не мога да направя това за теб”, вместо просто “Не мога да направя такова нещо”; “Скоро ще има за много неща да се притесняват”, вместо например “Много ядове ще берат в скоро време”; “След няколко години ще трябва да помислят да си търсят жени”, “Не казвам подобно нещо” — никой не говори така на български.
Имаше ги и характерните коректорски недоглеждания, твърде много за разкази от 180 страници и трима редактори: на няколко места се появяваха неща от рода на “тя го изгледа със иронична усмивка”; актрисата Чън Чун понякога се прекръстваше на Чен Чун; на едно място беше “докрай”, на друго — “до край”; някой "наддава вик"; дъщерята се връща “по среднощ” и т.н.
Корицата е визуално симпатична, особено гръбначето й много ме кефи, но решението на Дамян Дамянов да сложи изображение на Мао е банално (вкъщи вече е пълно с книги с Мао на корицата, за бога), а решението (чието и да е) да се използва църковнославянски шрифт за заглавията на разказите е неразбираемо.
Все пак ценен и смел издателски проект на “Сиела”. Препоръчвам. :)
Впримчени в капана на историята и на собствените си вътрешни демони и слабости, героите на Июн Ли почти нямат шанс да изкачат билото. Бедните, слабите, старите, смирените, болните, плахите, никога ненамерилите себе си, различните, изоставените, аутсайдерите рядко имат шанс за пълно щастие - най-многото за миг топлина и утеха.
Июн Ли е кратка като стрела. Изреченията и са целенасочени и не хабят излишно пространство върху листа. Не е картина на импресионист с много мънички преливащи точици, а точното движение на калиграф, пресъздаващ необятното с един единствен мах на четката.
Политиката не заема много място, само колкото е нужно за случая, а във всеки разказ той е различен. Гротеската, драмата, примирението са неразривно преплетени с пъстрите, живи мигове на ежедневието, които често остават незабелязани, но понякога са всичко, което има значение. Едно твърдо сварено яйце с най-хубавите подправки. Добра дума. Гукащ петел. Споделена усмивка. Понякога е нужно само това.
3,5 звезди
——— ▶️ Цитати:
”Смъртта не е лоша шега, ако я разкажеш както трябва, макар че не виждам правилен начин за това.”
“- Ако си се родил мека слива, най-добре си остани такъв. ... - Но сливите не се раждат меки. - Но ги ценят по мекотата. - Не мекотата, а зрелостта.”
“Трябват триста години, за да получиш възможността да пресечеш река заедно с друг човек в една лодка... Нужни са три хиляди години молитви, за да сложиш главата си до любимата на възглавницата. А за баща и дъщеря? Може би хиляда.”
"[...]αν έχεις μεγαλώσει με μια γλώσσα που δεν τη χρησιμοποιούσες ποτέ για να εκφράσεις τα συναισθήματά σου, είναι πολύ πιο εύκολο, μαθαίνοντας μια νέα γλώσσα, να μιλάς περισσότερο σ'αυτήν. Είναι σαν να γίνεσαι κάποιος άλλος"
Το παραπάνω απόσπασμα απ'το ομώνυμο διήγημα της πρώτης συλλογής της Γίγεν Λι, αποτελεί την πιο "αληθινή" στιγμή αυτού του τόσο άνισου βιβλίου που ξεκινάει δυναμικά, φανερώνει τις ελλείψεις της συγγραφέως στην πορεία κ κλείνει με υπέροχο τρόπο με τις δύο τελευταίες ιστορίες που είναι κ οι καλύτερες που θα βρείτε εδώ. Η Λι γράφει πολύπλοκα διηγήματα (χωρίς να είναι πλεονέκτημα αυτό) με κοινή θεματική την απέχθεια της προς την κομμουνιστική Κίνα κ όχι μόνο. Απ'την άλλη, φαντάζομαι πως έχει σημασία ότι η συλλογή κυκλοφόρησε μια ντουζίνα χρόνια πριν, όταν η καταγραφή των δυσκολιών που αντιμετώπιζαν οι πολίτες της χώρας τα χρόνια του Μάο (κ μετέπειτα) ήταν από μόνη της σημαντική δουλειά. Στο σήμερα όμως, με τόσα βιβλία επί του θέματος δεν (μου) φτάνει.
Η γραφή της Λι, σε αντίθεση με άλλους μετανάστες συγγραφείς που γράφουν κατευθείαν στα αγγλικά, έχει μια ωραία απλότητα που κάνει τα διηγήματα να λειτουργούν με άμεσο τρόπο όπως συμβαίνει στην Αθανασία που είναι μια πρωτότυπη ιστορία που πατάει στις παραδόσεις της χώρας (αυτό εδώ μεταφράζεται στην πίστη των παλιών πως αν μια έγκυος γυναίκα κοιτάζει κατά τη διάρκεια της εγκυμοσύνης της συνέχεια μια φωτογραφία τότε το παιδί της θα αποκτήσει το πρόσωπο του εικονιζόμενου) κ μεταφέρει με πολύ ωραίο τρόπο μια ζωή που ελέγχεται σε μεγάλο βαθμό απ'το καθεστώς. Εξίσου δυνατή εμπειρία είναι κ Η Πριγκίπισσα της Νεμπράσκα που έχει στο κέντρο της ένα ιδιαίτερο τρίγωνο κ κλείνει εξαιρετικά με μια πανίσχυρη τελευταία παράγραφο. Στη συνέχεια όμως, έχασα τελείως το ενδιαφέρον μου. Μια μέρα μετά κ έπρεπε να ξεφυλλίσω το βιβλίο για να θυμηθώ τα τεκταινόμενα στις ιστορίες που ακολουθούν (Γιος, Διευθέτηση, Έρωτας Στην Αγορά κ το κάπως καλύτερο Ο Θάνατος Δεν Είναι Ενα Κακο Αστείο... που ήταν παρόμοιο αισθητικά με την Αθανασία).
Ευτυχώς όμως, η Λι είχε φυλάξει το καλύτερο για το τέλος. Οι Γιαρμάδες είναι η καλύτερη ιστορία του βιβλίου κ αφηγείται την αιματηρή εκδίκηση που παίρνει ο Λαο Τα για τη δολοφονία του γιου του κ είναι η μοναδική στιγμή που η Λι καταφέρνει επιτέλους να θέσει κάποια ερωτήματα. Τι θα έκαναν οι υπόλοιποι άντρες που αφηγούνται την ιστορία του Λαο Τα αν ήταν στη θέση του; Τι θα έκανες εσυ; Που σταματάει η άνευ όρων υποταγή; Η άλλη πραγματικά δυνατή στιγμή έρχεται με το ομώνυμο διήγημα που μέσα απ'την αλήθεια που αναγκάστηκε να κρύψει ο πατέρας της ηρωίδας φαίνεται να κρύβεται η ίδια η Λι στο σήμερα.
Συνολικά πάντως η Γίγεν Λι φαίνεται πως αξίζει τον κόπο, ακόμα κ αν το ντεμπούτο της είναι γεμάτο ελλείψεις. Με δύο πραγματικά εξαιρετικές ιστορίες κ άλλες τέσσερις καλές εώς πολύ καλές το πρόσημο είναι σίγουρα θετικό, αν κ τα βραβεία που πήρε είναι κάπως ανεξήγητα. Ας είναι όμως, δεν φταίει η ίδια γι'αυτό. Το σίγουρο είναι πως θα ξαναδιαβάσω κάτι δικό της, οι Περιπλάνωμενοι είναι ήδη στη βιβλιοθηκη μου, θα ακολουθήσει κ το Αντίδοτο στη Μοναξιά.
قصص قصيرة من قلب الحياة الصينية، تركز على مواقف الحياة اليومية البسيطة ومواقف عاديّة في خضم الحياة. تتواجد السياسة والثورة الثقافية والدكتاتور -كما تسميه الكاتبة، بشكل قوي في المجموعة، إضافة للثقافة الصينية الغنية وعبء الخجل والعار والتقاليد المتوارثه وخيبات الأمل والحب والوعود الكاذبة. ولعلَّ أكثر ما لفت انتباهي هو قسوة "مجتمعهم"، دائمًا تفاجئني هذه القسوة وكأنها المرة الأولى وأظن أن تصويرها كأمر عاديّ هي أكثر ما يصدمني.
Racconti che rapiscono il cuore e l'anima, scrittura densa,profonda e molto complessa...... a volte stancante.... comunque rimango sconvolta dalla capacità di scrittura di questa autrice medico, Maestrale!!!
An excellent book, very emotional. The stories were gut-wrenching (which I enjoy), perhaps even more so because they seemed true to life. I would recommend it to anyone who can stomach the unpleasantness of reading about the realities of life we try to escape by immersing ourselves into books. While the stories were uniquely Chinese, in that they reflect the political, economic and social context of the country, they deal with universal human experiences, such as love, family, finding purpose in live etc. I was surprised, however, at all the goodreads reviews bringing up how the stories are so critical of China (for better or worse). I believe them to be more far-reaching in scope. Being born in another former communist country, whose society is similarly traditional, I see most of the issues brought up in the stories reflected in the social relationships of my home country and I believe that they may apply to all traditional societies who place value on an individual only in relation to his or her contribution to that society. For instance, I immagine that filial devotion is a similarly crushing responsibility (my personal opinion on the topic) in India or Japan, two countries that were never communist.
Bu yılki hedeflerimden birisi sevmediğim türlere zaman zaman okuma listemde yer ayırmaktı, bu nedenle üç beş şey toplamıştım. Vur dedik öldür biri olduğumçin dkkfkdkdŞAKA öyle denk geldi diyelim; haftanın ikinci öykü kitabını okudum. Sevdim mi? Hayır. Olsundu, en azından denedik/denemeye devam. Iyyy deneme demişken bak beterin beteri var. Hikayeyi her türlü denemelere tercih ederim ben.
Yiyun Li'nin bol ödüllü bu kitabında ise kafalar biraz karışık zira çok muallakta hikayeler var kimisi inanılmaz keyifli, kimisi meh. O yüzden benden ortalama bir puan. Ne gıptiymişim be püü.
On yuan karşılığında vücudunu kesebileceğiniz bir dilenci, oğlunu öldüren sisteme karşı on yedi can alan bir baba,yeni bir ülkeye gelince yeni kişiliğe de kavuşan bir kadın, bunun aksine yeni ülkede geçmişinden kopamayan bir oğul..Çoğunlukla sistem ile yüzleşmenin acısını taşıyan karakterler. . Çin’in iki yüzü olduğuna inanan ve bunu oldukça iyi yansıtan yazar Yiyun Li’den on öykü.. On öykü de samimi bir dile sahip,akıcı,sakin.Her biri iz bırakan türden. . Çin’de doğup büyüyen ardından Amerika’ya yerleşen yazar,öykülerinde köklerine tutunmakla birlikte cümleleriyle üzerinde yaşadığı topraktan da beslendiğini kanıtlıyor.Özellikle karakter çeşitliliği, kültürel öğelerin sıkça kullanılışıyla keyifli bir okuma sunuyor~
Yiyun Li came to read at Saint Mary's College of California in the Bay Area a year or so ago, and I'll never forget how she explained her method of creating drama. In a crude paraphrasing, from what I can fuzzily recall, she said each of her characters are strategically angled in opposition to one another. And these angles are where she starts from, so the story's conflict is immediate and urgent.
In her short story collection A Thousand Good Years of Prayers each character vies to break free from Communist China. This clash of East meets West fuels misunderstandings and inflames rifts between daughters and fathers, mothers and sons, lovers and friends. And, despite the flood of anguish, anger, and heartbreak that many of these characters brim with, in their confrontation against self, community, and culture, Li's prose is deceptively simple and reserved, reflective of her own restrained background.
Bin Yıllık Dua ülkemizde Kazkafanın Kitabı isimli eseriyle tanınan Yiyun Li'nin yayımlanan ilk kitabı. Önemseyenler için ödüllü olduğunu da belirteyim. Yazar 1972 yılında doğmuş ve 24 yaşında Amerika'ya göç edip İngilizce yazmaya başlamış. Bu bilgiler önemli çünkü Çin'in bitmek bilmeyen değişim yılları, göçmenlik, dilin hayatımıza etkisi, kültür farklılığı, aile içi çatışmalar gibi temalar otobiyografik unsurları hatırlatıyor. Yazar sade ama çarpıcı bir anlatımla kişisel hikayeleri kültürel, sosyolojik, siyasi koşullarla harmanlamış. Biraz Batının Doğusu: Öykülerde Bir Ülke kitabını hatırlattı bana ama burada daha karamsar bir atmosfer var. Kitabın sonuna yazarla yapılmış kısa bir söyleşi koyulmuş, okuması keyifliydi.
Anlatım dili bazen geniş zaman bazen şimdiki zaman kipindeydi, garipsediğim yerler oldu ama hikayelerin etkileyiciliği bozulmadı benim için. Çevirmen Anıl Ceren Altunkanat'ın emeğine sağlık.
Severek okudum, bu yılın favorilerinden sayıyorum.
A Thousand Years of Good Prayers by Yiyun Li is one of the books that I was dared to read this year, courtesy of the book club's I Dare You To Read year-ender/welcome activity last January. A short backgrounder: participants to the activity were asked to name one Best Read and one Worst Read for 2013 (if they could bring their print copies or share digital copies of the books, that would be even better), and then everyone gets to pick one title each from the collated Best Reads and Worst Reads lists, which he/she will be "dared" to read within the year. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers is the book I picked from the Best Reads list, which my good friend Benny cited as one of the best books he’s read for 2013. Knowing his penchant for remarkable literary works, I'm glad I picked it, even if I had no idea what the book was all about.
It's the first time I've heard of both author and book, so I didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t a book I would pick up on my own volition or give a second glance sans recommendations, taking a chance that I won’t be wasting my time or money. Thanks to the book club's activity (and Benny, of course!), I was given a chance to acquaint myself with this exceptionally talented author whose roots are from China. And what better way to get to know Yiyun Li than through this collection of short fiction, each one full of heart and nostalgia and raw emotions, they're just too good?
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There are 10 stories in this collection, all of them about Chinese people – both in their native China and in the United States, as immigrants. All of the stories are replete with Chinese culture, tradition, myths, and history, and all are so poignantly told that it felt like silently communing with the characters. They reminded me of the stories of Jhumpa Lahiri, who wrote about immigrant Indians in the United States and whose award-winning short fiction are guaranteed to tear at your heartstrings.
But Yiyun Li is notable and brilliant all on her own. While Lahiri’s prose is quietly elegant, Li’s writing has a certain charm in its simplicity and straightforwardness. I would hazard a guess that English is only her second language, being originally from China, and if this were true, then her prose must be given credit for its clarity and precision. I am looking forward to reading more of her works.
My three favorite stories from this collection are Immortality, After A Life, and of course, A Thousand Years of Good Prayers. Immortality told about the Chinese eunuchs of old, the regime of the Chairman Mao or the "dictator" and Communist China, and a simple, bereft young man who unwittingly achieved immortality because of the fusion of these two important aspects of Chinese history. After A Life is about a couple who got married against all odds – they were first cousins, after all, and they went against the advice of their elders – and had two children, one of them afflicted with cerebral palsy from birth and had no chance of living a normal life. Finally, A Thousand Years of Good Prayers is about Mr. Shi, a rocket scientist, and the distinct relationships he shared with two women in his life: his shaky relationship with his divorcee daughter, and the companionship he found with a non-English speaking woman retiree with whom he shared stories of his life. In all these stories, I was extremely moved by the personal battles and struggles that the characters endured, and how they coped and attempted to survive in the ways they knew how.
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"There's a reason for every relationship, that's what the saying says. Husband and wife, parents and children, friends and enemies, strangers you bump into in the street. It takes three thousand years of prayers to place your head side by side with your loved one's on the pillow."
Perhaps if anybody might have a stake in the trans-cultural, Asian-Ameican literary tradition, alongside say Jhumpa Lahiri and Chang-Rae Lee, then Yiyun Li [herself following a well-worn heritage of Amy Tan, Gish Jen etc.] might be that author. Published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review and Glimmer Train, Li seems to be what America wants - but perhaps not what America needs? I had high hopes for A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, it having won the Frank O'Connor International Short Story award and racking up plenty of praise as Li's debut collection. Overall, however, the collection was very mild, mostly pedestrian in style and narrative, not offering anything novel in terms of the cultural experience. The collection has some brilliance of course, and when they work they work very well: 'A Thousand Years of Good Prayers' is a well-wrought story dealing with cultural language barriers and the themes of communication and silence; 'Immortality,' which won the Plimpton Prize, is perhaps one of the more experimental pieces in the collection and much different from its surrounding prose in that it deals with ideas of myth and fable, in a very political satire that is much reminiscent of Yan Lianke, with some very memorable scenes; 'Persimmons' is a curious little story which is almost told entirely in dialogue and gossip about a murderer; 'Son' charts the troubles and difficulties of a gay immigrant returning to China and seeing the ghost of Communism emerge in the duping of his mother's stern Christianity. Nevertheless, even these stories fall sometimes into the straight-forward prose which characterises much of Li's collection, bordering on sentimentality or romanticism, or at other times - worse - seem to project clichéd stereotypes, such as the prevailing, not so subtle, idea of Communism as being unilaterally bad, and America as a cultural utopia. The stories and characters are by and large in depressing situations, usually linked because they are Chinese, rather than because they are victims of the system, but that is not where the problem lies; the problem lies in the lack of momentum within much of the stories, and instead Li's writing style relies on a myriad of page-breaks in order to tie together loose ends. There is a strangeness in A Thousand Years of Good Prayers which glimmers sometimes in the inexplicability of events and situations, as well as the abruptness of endings, but often such moments become too much of a moral machine. The stand-out story is 'The Princess of Nebraska,' a unique story which shines so bright it makes much of the other stories coal-like in comparison; drawn around the curious love-triangle - if you could even call it that - between two immigrants and a Classical Opera nan dan, male-as-female, actor who becomes a rentboy, across countries. Interesting and written with genuine feeling and artistic sensibility, the story reinforces Li's territory: as a master of understanding culture clashes, especially when she writes about immigrants - herself, obviously, being one. It is in those stories, the better stories of the collection, which deals with the meeting-point between East and West, old and new, far and near, where the writing does justice to its themes, and A Thousand Years of Good Prayers feels like it has things to offer.
(READ: April 4, 2020) Ten (10) seamless and captivating short stories, Yiyun Li infuses individual struggles with a politicized resonance to give meaning to the things that matters most: freedom, accountability, responsibility, justice. These are the foundation of a fully realized society. While the stories depict monumental themes of oppression, persecution and intrusion, A Thousand Years of Good Prayers also offer details of tenderly private and simple lives of vulnerable and strong people trying to meet both ends and trying to survive in an uncertain and uncomfortable times.
My first unbeknownst exposure to Yiyun Li was in the Wayne Wang film, The Princess of Nebraska, which was based on Li’s story of the same name. My first thought was if it was your decision to cast Boshen as a white guy in the film then shame on you Wayne Wang! Boshen is supposed to be Chinese! I think that makes it a lot more interesting and slightly less creepy than a middle aged white man who is in love with an 18 year old Chinese man. I like the tension between Sasha and Boshen because they’re both Chinese nationals who have escaped China for the United States and cannot reach Yang who is trapped in China. They both feel like they’ve betrayed him by leaving and yet cannot do anything to help him. In “The Princess of Nebraska” Li writes, “A man like Boshen should have an ordinary life, boring and comfortable, yet his craze for Yang made him a more interesting man” (87) and I felt the same way about this short story collection. I thought it was much more interesting that she had a couple of gay main characters. The story “Son” particularly hit home since it’s about an obedient “good” son who finally tells his mother he is gay. It’s touching and sad.
Chinese writers writing in English (or even those who have their work translated into English) always seem to write in super sparse straightforward language so I guess it’s similar to Mandarin. Sometimes it works but generally I find it difficult to find the beauty in that type of language. I had a feeling that in all this straightforward language I was missing something like maybe she wasn’t telling me something on purpose because I was supposed to read into it more. Ah Chinese people and their straightforward but not-so-straightforward way of communication! I was also a little tired of all the flower metaphors and reading about “planting seeds in his wife’s belly” in story after story. Another strike.
Though I wasn’t that keen on the writing style, Li is able to craft some memorable characters that have quotable gems: “Being a mother must be the saddest yet most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started, would never end” (91). In “Love In the Marketplace” the main character’s mother is a poor tea egg seller at the train station and the daughter tells the mother it’s a waste of money to use expensive spices since they’ll never come back to you. The mother says, “[I’m giving] them their one chance to eat the best eggs in the world” and I loved her for that pride and stubbornness. In “Immortality” the story of the village that raised imperial eunuchs is really imaginative and flirts with magical realism. There is a cool description of the village participating in a sparrow-killing day after 3 years of famine. They all wave fans and bang on things to scare the sparrows off the trees. The sparrows fly, until exhausted, they fall from the sky. It’s about how a baby is born in the village with Mao’s face and he is hired by the government to star in propaganda movies and as a stand-in for Mao after his death. In “A Thousand Years of Good Prayer” I really liked the sarcasm of the daughter, the unearthing of buried family feelings, the display of the rift between the generations, and this quote: Life provides more happiness than we ever know. We have to train ourselves to look for it (188).
Many of Li’s characters have been treated unfairly by Communist China and we see the hypocrisy, corruption, and the lengths people go through to survive because a people’s revolution wasn’t fully realized. Though that wasn’t the point of the book she does show how the Communist Party has impacted the lives of people who don’t toe the party line. Most aren’t rebels or revolutionaries—they’ve either been deemed obsolete or they’ve dared to question someone’s authority. I couldn’t get into some of the characters or the language but the good parts are Li’s quiet exploration of the lives of modern-day Chinese people who are trying to mend their broken hearts.
I also learned that I’m tired of flower metaphors but gays make everything better.
Li's first collection, stories set mostly in the 1990s, providing a perspective on China's history, when it was transforming from a Marxist dictatorship into a capitalist society, with the widening inequalities that result, the need to cope with one's personal and political past as the uncertain future rises ahead. Though occasionally heavy-handed, for the most part, the stories have a light touch while delivering weighty information, with characters, no matter their selfishness, one can care about or come, in some way, to understand. As with one of Li's later story collections that I recently read, her characters are often isolated, from their families and from themselves, and often there are fraught parent-child relations, a dislocation that mirrors China's past and its then modern present.
I’m not a good book critic b/c like with coffee and wine, all I know is whether I “like”, or “don’t like”, and I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of this book.
A lot of other reviews criticized this book for portraying China and America in black and white terms (China being black and America being white). As someone who grew up in China, spent 9 years in America, and came back to China as an adult, I understand the why the Chinese characters in the stories wanted to escape.
Having grown up in the 90s/early 2000s, and having had the privilege to call Beijing home for a few years, this book transports me back to my childhood, and evokes emotions I thought I had long forgotten.
I would recommend this book to anyone who’s interested in taking a look at China from the perspectives of normal, complex, and humane everyday people.
1. There were two stories done in first-person plural. One of them, 'Immortality' - about how a boy grows up to be a Mao lookalike - is perhaps the best story in the collection. 2. In two of the stories, Li falls into a common trap - having to explain a lot of back-story towards the end of the story. Examples are 'The Arrangement' and the titular story. 3. There are at least three classic short stories here - 'After a Life', 'Immortality', and 'Death Is Not a Bad Joke If Told the Right Way'
Το να διαβάζω για την ιστορία μιας χώρας μέσα από τις ιστορίες καθημερινών, πολλές φορές ανθρώπων απαρατηρητων, είναι μια από τις αναγνωστικές μου απολαύσεις. Η συγκεκριμένη συλλογή διηγημάτων είναι αυτό ακριβώς. Η Yiyun Li κριτικάρει μέσα από ζωές κομπάρσων της ζωής, το κομμουνιστικό καθεστώς της Κίνας, στήνοντας άλλες φορές απλές ανθρώπινες ιστορίες μετανάστευσης στο αμερικανικό όνειρο και άλλες φορές ιστορίες τραγελαφικές που καταλήγουν σκέτα τραγικές μέσα από την υπερβολή τους. Κάποια από αυτά τα διηγηματα είναι αληθινά διαμαντακια. Δεν εμεινα καθ'όλη τη διάρκεια μαζί της όμως. 3,5
I am not one for short stories, I find they were usually overdone and unfinished, not the case with "A Thousand Years of Good Prayers". I loved all the stories, they were all so different but brought a specific point home. As with most short stories, you are usually left wanting more but I found Li created well rounded characters who gave you just enough. A really great read.
Сравнително дълго четох този сборник с разкази. Това им харесвам на разказите, че по всяко време можеш да я оставиш книгата на пауза и да продължиш четенето след време със следващия разказ, без да губиш нищо от очарованието. А специално Июн Ли е изключително талантлива авторка, чийто стил много ми допада - бих го оприличила на някакъв особен източен тип магически реализъм. Харесах я още от "Калната река", но с тези брилянтно написани разкази, мнението ми окончателно се затвърди. Брилятно и деликатно написани, разказите са десет на брой, а героите им - различни хора, всеки от тях носещ трагизма на своята събда. Хареса ми начина, по който авторката пресъздава драмата в живота на героите си - пестеливо, но достатъчно емоционално и живо. Чудно трогателен е този сборник! Препоръчвам!
The author accurately depicts many heavy topics/themes (in China), such as suffocating parent-child relationships, the biases and pressure women face and the impact of societal changes on the lives of ordinary people.
The tone of the book, though, is cold and lacking in empathy.
Převážně smutné či melancholické povídky z moderní Číny. Vystupují v nich protagonisté různého pohlaví, rozmanitých věkových skupin, Číňané v Číně, Číňané v Americe. Yiyun Li (I-jün Li) má úžasný dar, nedokážu uvěřit, že touto sbírkou debutovala, a navíc ji psala v angličtině, tedy v jazyce přejatém. Z jejího vyprávění jsem měla jasný dojem, že často popisuje to, co sama zažila a viděla. Například holčička z povídky „Smrt není tak špatný vtip, když se vypráví správným způsobem“ má stejné rodinné zázemí jako autorka. Píše o své oblíbené čínské herečce, jejíž totožnost mě překvapila (měla bych chuť tu něco vykřiknout, ale pak byste jí třeba poznali předčasně). Píše o chunanském maloměstě, o lidech prostých, o venkovanech, a píše nádherně.
Pokud jste ještě nečetli její Ubožáky, měli byste se vyhnout poslednímu textu – „Co to má se mnou společného“ – protože v něm popisuje události, podle nichž později román napsala. Zjevně je to pro ni hluboké a citlivé téma. Současná čínská realita JE smutné téma, a u ní dokáže tnout do živého, sžírá to Yiyun Li, sžírá to její postavy (neuvěřitelný konec povídky „Láska z tržiště“), hluboce se to dotkne i čtenáře. Určitě se poohlédnu i po jejích dalších knihách, vše, co jsem od ní zatím četla, mě nesmírně zaujalo.