312pages. Poche. Broch. A l'Opra de Pkin, on joue Adieu ma concubine; au soir de la bataille, la favorite Yu, joue par un jeune homme, Cheng chante pour adoucir la dtresse de son seigneur vaincu, incarn par Duan Xiaolou. En coulisse, Dieyi quitte parures et fards. Son ccmpagnon de scne, Xiaolou, le dlaisse et prfre s'illustrer dans un thtre d'un tout autre genre: la Maison des Fleurs o Juxian, belle entre les belles, joue merveille l'amante perdue. Des annes 20 aux annes 70, ces amis d'enfance, ces frres de scne vont s'aimer, se tromper, se trahir. Sentiments masqus, jeux de miroirs, Lilian Lee tire avec dextrit les fils d'une pope faite de soie, d'opium et de musique. Une symphonie des sens, un opra du coeur.
The movie adaptation of Lilian Lee’s Farewell My Concubine is widely renowned and celebrated, but the novel perhaps not as much, and that’s a shame. As with all original sources, this is more flushed out, subtler, and more enjoyable in many ways than the movie. While I loved the movie, especially the dynamic between Gong Li’s Juxian and Leslie Cheung’s Dieyi, the movie took certain liberties that I didn’t care for, but didn’t know initially because I watched the movie prior to reading this lovely novel. In particular, there are dramatic differences in some key events as well as in how Juxian is portrayed on the whole (even as Lee worked on the screenplay).
Those concerns aside, the novel is an easy read, yet hardly a superficial one, full of some smart and insightful wisdom from the author along with an evocative glimpse into China’s history from the days of the republic through the heartbreaking years of the Cultural Revolution and Mao’s regime, and even touching upon the waning years of Britain’s Hong Kong. We are treated to two biographies; the main characters Dieyi and Xiaolou, starting with their childhood in a severe training school for opera performers. Lee engages the reader in caring for these two and their relationship’s growth, and we feel the emotional tug of war between the pair as it is exacerbated upon the arrival of Juxian. This is a novel of love set amidst the brutal political and social transformation of China in the 20th century, and it’s a daring and prescient novel in terms of issues we struggle with even today, nearly a quarter century after this was first published.
One of my favorite quotes appears near the end when Lee writes, “Chairman Mao once said, ‘Nowhere in the world is there love without reason. Nor is there hatred without a cause.’ But he had been wrong. Love was by its very nature unreasoning, while hatred had a thousand causes. The great revolutionary didn’t understand this at all.” It’s a brilliant summation of love woven into the heart of the problem with Mao’s vision of leadership.
If you’ve seen the movie, I recommend the book highly. If not, read the novel before viewing the epic motion picture. Either way, it’s a great read.
Este es un libro que descubrí gracias a mi querido Repellent Boy. Siempre habla maravillas de él, me obsesioné y supe que tenía que leerlo. Esto va así: cien mil libros pendientes, pero un día se te cruza uno que tienes que leer inmediatamente y sin remedio. Ahora mismo “Adiós a mi concubina” se encuentra descatalogado, pero hace poco tuve la tremenda suerte de encontrarlo de segunda mano en el Re-Read de mi ciudad. Me da mucha pena que un libro como este no esté ya a la venta o que no sea más popular, porque es una muy buena novela. No obstante, la película (que todavía no he visto), está considerada un clásico del cine.
Todo comienza en Pekín, en 1929. Xiaou Douzi es un niño de ocho años, hijo de una prostituta que por no poderlo mantener, lo vende a un maestro de la Ópera de Pekín para que lo forme como actor. En la escuela operística, donde vivirá a partir de ese momento, conoce a otro niño, Xiaou Shitou, y en seguida se convierten en grandes amigos, casi en hermanos. Juntos llegan a ser muy pronto dos actores de renombre; Douzi interpretando siempre a la “dan” o heroína (papel reservado de por vida a los actores de rasgos más finos), y Shitou al “sheng” o héroe, y es que en la época que abarca la novela, las grandes compañías de teatro solo contaban con actores entre sus filas. Las actrices se habían empezado a incorporar tras la Revolución de Xinhai (1911-1912), pero eran muy escasas y resultaba tremendamente extraño encontrar compañías de teatro mixtas.
La novela abarca cinco décadas y, a través de las vivencias de estos dos actores, vamos a ser testigos de los acontecimientos tan convulsos que tuvieron lugar en China durante gran parte del siglo XX: la invasión japonesa, la Guerra Civil China, la dictadura de Mao Zedong y, por lo tanto, la Revolución Cultural. Me ha gustado mucho precisamente la parte en la que se habla de la Revolución Cultural; es el momento más duro del libro, pero también uno de los más interesantes.
Los dos personajes principales, Xiaou Douzi y Xiaou Shitou, me han parecido magníficos, y le dan un punto de vista a la historia de China que a mí, personalmente, me ha resultado nuevo y fresco, ya que nunca había leído nada sobre este período desde la perspectiva de unos artistas. Me ha gustado mucho su construcción, su evolución y cómo se relacionan entre ellos; he sentido mucho apego hacia los dos, pero especialmente hacia Xiaou Douzi, un personaje con mayúsculas, un personaje de esos imperfectos que tanto me gustan. Los secundarios, por su parte, son los cimientos que hacen que el libro sea redondo.
Es una novela bastante corta, pero invita a leerla despacio y a saborearla. Me ha encantado cómo está escrita, desgranando la historia y el interior de los personajes de forma muy sutil, como si se vislumbraran entre las bambalinas de los teatros donde los protagonistas crecen y se forman. También es una novela que te pega una bofetada cuando menos lo esperas, porque sí, es puro drama, es una historia muy triste, pero maravillosa y perfectamente narrada. Por supuesto, hay más capas y sorpresas de las que he dejado ver en esta reseña, pero voy a dejar este misterio abierto para no estropear la experiencia a futuros lectores. ¡Ojalá este libro deje de estar descatalogado!
I just saw a review of this that said it was more fleshed out than the movie . . . which . . . no?
This is a fascinating look at the world of Peking Opera, as well as a scathing indictment of the Cultural Revolution and what it did to the lives of artists, in particular. It's also a love story.
The writing is very brisk, almost as though it is a screenplay, which is why I think it's interesting to say it's more filled out than the movie. There are scenes, with dialogue and action, that are clear and well written, but in between them is almost like film direction: This happened, this happened, this happened. Ten years later, we see this happening. We only ever know what Cheng Dieyi/Xiou Douzi is thinking, though with occasional flashes of Juxian's thoughts/emotions, until the end when we see a few pages from both of the men's perspectives. She's a good writer, the characters are strongly drawn, and the story is intense, but it's just very barebones in terms of descriptions.
Dù là bản phim hay bản truyện thì cơ bản 'Bá vương biệt Cơ' cũng là một câu chuyện buồn.
Cả truyện lẫn phim mình đều chỉ đọc/xem đúng một lần. Đều là bằng tiếng Anh. Truyện có bản txt tiếng Trung nhưng bản tiếng Trung bị cắt xén rất nhiều, không chỉ những chi tiết nhạy cảm mà cả nhiều chi tiết nhỏ đem lại cái hay cho truyện nữa. Không rõ vì sao.
Trước hết mình phải cảnh báo là 'Bá vương biệt Cơ' bản truyện rất khác với bản phim. Mọi chi tiết, mọi tầng lớp ý nghĩa, sự lựa chọn của các nhân vật đều khác. Như về nguồn gốc vết sẹo của Đoạn Tiểu Lâu, đứa bé bị bỏ rơi, ý nghĩa của 'Bá vương biệt Cơ' hay sự lựa chọn của Trình Điệp Y. Nếu bạn thấy bản phim là hoàn hảo, không thể thay thế thì khi đọc cuốn này hãy hạ sự kỳ vọng xuống thấp nhất có thể. Bản truyện và bản phim của 'Bá vương biệt Cơ' đều có nét đẹp riêng và không thể đổi được cho nhau.
Trong truyện, Trình Điệp Y, Đoạn Tiểu Lâu và Cúc Tiên không hẳn là 'biểu tượng' cho bất cứ điều gì. Trình Điệp Y yếu đuối hơn, 'người' hơn. Cúc Tiên cũng không dữ dội, mánh khóe hay có sự đồng cảm nhất định với Điệp Y như trong phim. Còn Đoạn Tiểu Lâu...Nói thật đây là nhân vật khi lên phim bị dìm nhất, có lẽ vì đạo diễn Trần Khải Ca muốn dùng riêng anh làm biểu tượng cho sự phản bội. Trong khi mình cảm giác dường như trong truyện tất cả đều phản bội lẫn nhau, làm mình không thể không liên tưởng đến câu 'Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.'của John le Carre. Ngoài ra hình tượng người mẹ làm kỹ nữ của Điệp Y cũng được khắc họa rõ nét hơn nên khi đọc tác giả sẽ hiểu rõ hơn tại sao Điệp Y lại có thành kiến gay gắt với kỹ nữ đến thế.
Thời thơ ấu của Trình Điệp Y và Đoạn Tiểu Lâu trong truyện dù có khắc nghiệt nhưng vẫn có những phân đoạn vô cùng ngọt ngào, và quả thực mình rất thích những phân đoạn trước khi Cúc Tiên xuất hiện này. Có lẽ vì trong truyện tình cảm của Điệp Y không hẳn là thứ tình cảm mờ ảo, lẫn lộn mà nhiều người phân tích phim hay nói mà nó là thứ tình cảm nam nam thật sự. Khi đọc truyện có lẽ mọi người sẽ dễ dàng hiểu được tại sao Điệp Y lại yêu Tiểu Lâu tha thiết đến thế. Tiểu Lâu trong truyện khi đã trưởng thành và cả khi đã già đi (trong truyện khi họ bị đấu tố trong Cách mạng Văn hóa thì cả hai đều đã quá bốn mươi) đều có ý thức bảo vệ Điệp Y nên mới hết lần này đến lần khác khiến Cúc Tiên ghen tuông dữ dội. Tiểu Lâu trong truyện có cờ bạc, có xúc phạm Điệp Y nhưng không đi hát thì cũng biết làm nghề khác chứ không chỉ đập phá và gào thét mình không biết làm gì ngoài đi hát. Tiểu Lâu trong truyện chưa bao giờ chế nhạo ước mơ được ở bên nhau suốt đời của Điệp Y là lẫn lộn giữa sân khấu và đời thực. Nói cách khác, về một mặt nào đó anh ta đúng là 'Hạng Vũ' bước ra ngoài đời.
Tuy là thế nhưng đến sau cùng thì tất cả vẫn đã là quá trễ, mọi sự phản bội đều đã diễn ra và họ đã chẳng bao giờ còn có thể quay đầu lại nữa.
A sweeping saga, Farewell my Concubine runs the gamut of China’s modern history, from 1924 to the 1980′s, and takes the revered Peking Opera as its centre stage. Xiao Douzi and Xiao Shitou become friends under the harsh training regime of the opera (a mix of martial arts, deprivation and singing) and continue friends through the good and the very bad times of over 50 years of the country’s turbulent history
I’m going to say right out that if you have seen the film and are thinking about reading the book, and you expect the same optimistic conclusions to the character’s stories and actions within the film, you are likely to be either disappointed or surprised by the changes made – or both. Although the book does not end tragically, the film has a softer ending and also within the book the plotline regarding the abandoned child is not how it shown on the film. So be warned.
Ok – that’s that out of the way and I can concentrate on the book. Like many books about China, this is a fascinating read, because the cultures and mores of that culture are so very alien to most of a western audience. Lee lets us see Peking from the ground up; the surface “glamour” of actors and protitutes,looking affluent but look closer to see the ragged cloth shoes and the unhealthy pallor. Lee doesn’t flinch from the poverty and the squalour, and later on, the violence and degradation that the characters are forced to endure.
A young woman is desperate for her son to live, and to have a trade, carries her son to the Opera and asks them to take him on. We learn that Xiao Douzi (literally: Little Bean) has six fingers on one hand and in order for him to join the Opera–despite his excellent voice–he has to sacrifice it.There’s a theme of sacrifice that runs through the book, but you have to squint to see it.
Douzi’s mother was–for me–one of the unresolved plot lines, as this mother is never seen again, and despite Douzi missing her terribly, he does nothing to try and seek her out. It’s perfectly reasonable that she would disappear, but for him to do nothing about it, for he surely would have remember where he had lived, seems a little off, considering his character as it is painted for us.
We are introduced to the training regimen of the Opera, and from what I have read it’s not unusual, however harsh. I remember an interview with Jackie Lee who tells of his martial arts school and the terrible rigours he went through, so this is not much different, although absolutely shocking to our eyes, that young boys could be starved, beaten and humiliated in such a way. The training master is rather a cliche, I found, redolent of a sargeant major in a British sit-com or film, although he shows he does care about his charges, and whether they care for him or not, the respect they show him in later life (China, of course having a tradition of high respect for the older generation) is also highlighted.
Douzi is a natural “dan” due to his high clear voice and delicate features. A dan is a singer who specialises in female characters on stage—and in a similar fashion to the way that man-playing-female actors were trained in Shakespearian Britain – (see Stage Beauty for reference) – a dan is encouraged to consider himself female much of the time, and Douzi has to remind himself that he’s not.
The two friends stay together when they “graduate” from the ten years of their apprenticeship and they go out into the city singing their repetoire and getting better known. They are best known for the opera “Farewell my Concubine�� in which Douzi (now renamed Deiyi as an adult) and Shito (renamed Xiaolou) play the concubine Yu Ji and her lover General Xiang Yu. Like many operas in the east and west, it has a tragic ending.
In the film it appears that Douzi’s sexual identity is a much bigger deal than the book, for here I found it incredibly muted, and other than a fierce loyalty, one touching scene in make-up when Shito was injured, I never really got the sense that Douzi loved Shito in some enormous way. It was very brotherly, quite hands off, and even his intense hatred and jealousy of Juxian–the prostitute that Shito marries–comes over as more of a Yoko Ono deal, and not ‘he would have loved me if it wasn’t for you.’ Douzi, doesn’t ever act on that love, so we never get a chance to find out.
The scenes where the Red Guards, consisting mainly of teenagers, terrorise everyone who don’t adhere to the new ideals, were the most moving for me; the inhumanity of man against man, and the demonstration of just how blood-thirsty and cold young people. Harnessed for a task of cleansing the populace this section really shook me–particularly aligned against how very polite Chinese society was. The way that–even after the revolution of 1911–the country clung to its traditions, nearly had them entirely swept away in an Orwellian frenzy-only to start regaining a sense of their past was terrifying and made for a wonderful section to read.
There is a scene towards the end which is could almost be a scene from Orwell’s 1984, which is not terribly surprising, given the regime the three characters find themselves in, and it’s every bit as heartbreaking, although the real heartbreak comes at the end of the book.
However, I don’t know whether it was the translation, or just the book itself, but it didn’t really move me in the same way that other gay love stories have. I note that the translator was an academic but she wasn’t an author–perhaps it needed an author’s hand, because there were many grammatical issues, and there was some very American slang at times at times that was a tad jarring for 1920 and onwards. It’s when I read things like this that wish that I could read it in the original, but fat chance of that!
In fact I think that also, the book fails where the film shines, because it never really gives us a taste of the gorgeousness that the film is able to portray, the life of Deiyi and Xiaolou after they left the training regime and became actors, and started climbing the greasy pole to success is rather rushed, and I for one would have liked a bit more of this section.
It’s a fascinating read, however, if only for the portrait of a culture lost, and subsequent descriptions of the Mao regime as it attempted to eradicate anything that smacked of the “old traditions” and anyone with any interest in China will enjoy it for that reason, but the promise of the book in the first chapter that it’s a story of men in love smacked just a little of a ploy to pull in people who want a gay romance, and it never delivers on that score.
Not a masterpiece, but well worth a read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The story is so captivating and tender. I especially enjoy how the story captures the intersection between queerness and gender identity, power of art, political upheaval, and class struggles.
This is a poignant, short novella that lasts just over 3 hours in the unabridged version I listened to.
The bare bones of the story form a very potent plot but the narrative is somewhat dry. Since it spans over 50 years and the lives of the main characters are set against the turbulent political changes in China during those years, from the Japanese invasion, through the rise of Mao Zedong to the end of British colonial rule in Hong Kong, it is hard for the author to squeeze in the telling personal details that touch your heart.
Consequently, I was not drawn into the drama of the characters' lives; their emotions were at one remove.
You only have to glance at the stills from the movie to see how much more powerful it is. It has more colour, more life, more emotion. The actors' faces make you want to cry.
The narrator of the audio book is a famous Hollywood actress, Nancy Kwan, but her pronunciation of the Chinese names was so mangled and so inconsistent that I sometimes wasn't sure who she was talking about. Never mind. The real Chinese diaspora has only just started. Give it a few more years and everybody in the world will be speaking fluent Mandarin, even our lovely friends from Hong Kong.
Breve pero intensa novela protagonizada por unos personajes emblemáticos (aunque no puedo dejar de verlos a través de la película), enmarcados en una serie de acontecimientos históricos convulsos y apasionantes. La historia de Dieyi y Xiaolou sabe llegar al lector, a pesar de que a veces la novela es demasiado elíptica, con algunos saltos temporales que escatiman detalles que habría sido interesante tener en cuenta y que habrían enriquecido la novela, dotándola de más matices.
Por su versión cinematográfica, la cual todavia no he visto pero si recuerdo que estuvo nominada al Oscar. “Adiós a mi concubina” sigue la tumultuosa relación entre dos cantantes de ópera, Cheng Dieyi y Duan Xiaolou, el uno enamorado del otro, pero el otro enamorado de una prostituta, durante cincuenta años muy tormentosos en la vida política de China en los que los cambios de régimen afectará a los personajes.
Durante los dos primeros tercios de la novela, nos muestran la educacion de Dieyi y Xiaolou educación de los niños actores de Pekin, el surgir de un amor unilateral que seria pecaminoso y muy poco disimulado por Dieyi, sus pequeños inicios sexuales así como también inicia el triangulo amoroso y la relación de amor-odio entre los protagonistas, y lo mal que lo pasan por los cambios políticos. Entre esos capitulos senti que cada situacion vivida no estuvo bien explotada, que pasaba como de volada y no profundizaba. Creo que Dieyi se la paso mas odiando a Juxia, esposa de Xiaolou que en realidad amando al mismo. Todo pasa como un plumazo. Estos dos primeros tercios me parecían que estaban agilmente escritos, pero eran fríos y los personajes no acababan de importarte del todo.
Pienso que lo mas restacable del libro es cuando cuenta los años comunistas, es muy inquietante observar cómo los protagonistas sufren muchísimo profesionalmente cuando el Gobierno, aleatoriamente, decide que la ópera de Pekín es buena o mala; y es terriblemente angustioso ver que niños tenían el poder de detener a gente (y por motivos demenciales), cómo se reeducaba a la sociedad, y el funcionamiento de los campos de trabajo.
Ya en su final, refleja las caida de ambos. Cheng Dieyi, que es una vieja gloria, y Duan Xiaolou, hace tiempo retirado, viven en un mundo que ni ellos acaban de comprender ni él les comprende a ellos.
En fin, una lectura que cambio mucho de punto del vista para el lector, con personajes frios y no tan bien profundizados, pero que vale la pena leer para ver otra faceta de los inicios del comunismo bajo los ojos de personajes del arte.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
"Adeus, minha concubina" tráz-nos a história de dois artistas/irmãos da ópera de Pequim desde as anos 20 até aos anos 60 do século passado. Xiao Douzi e Xiao Shitou, mais tarde Dieyi e Xiaolou são abandonados pelas suas mães a cargo de Mestre Guan, professor de artistas que educa os vários rapazes à custa dos métodos brutais da época. Acabam por ser escolhidos para fazer as personagens principais da ópera "Adeus, minha concubina" (um casal, o homem representado por Xiaolou e a mulher por Dieyi). Ambos são excelentes artistas, perfeitos naquilo que fazem e muito aclamados pelo público. Dieye é profundamente apaixonado pelo seu "irmão mais velho", amor esse que nunca chega a ser assumido e consumado mas que o "consome" e o envenena. Ao longo do livro atravessamos a história da China, desde a invasão japonesa à revolução comunista com todos os altos e baixos que atravessa mas suas carreiras e as suas vidas pessoais e amorosas.
Listen, have you ever wanted to feel the knives so bad that you're out here putting the knife yourself to your own throat? Reading this book is THAT kind of knife 😀
I was rly scared that this was gonna end with bury your gays kinda ending and while don't get me wrong the knives r still super sharp and it is still BE, it's no where near as bad as i thought it wld be (as someone who ALSO was too afraid to watch the movie before too lol...) i still yelled when i hit the last sentence of this book tho and flipped the last few pages like YOU END THIS HERE??? RLY???!!!!
Eis um dos raros livros adaptados ao cinema, de que gostei mais do filme do livro. Esta novela de Lilian Lee, cujo verdadeiro nome é Li Pak-Wah, que vive em Hong Kong, foi adaptada em 1993 ao cinema por Kaige Chan, um filme notável. A narrativa fala-nos da difícil vida na China no século XX, principalmente até aos anos 80, com o final da dinastia Qing, a revolução nacionalista, a ocupação japonesa, a guerra civil entre nacionalistas e comunistas, a libertação, a Grande Revolução Cultural e o posterior afastamento do "Bando dos Quatro", e tendo como pano de fundo a famosa Ópera de Pequim e dois dos seus expoentes máximos, um como "cheng" (principal actor masculino) e outro como "dan" (a actriz já que nesta Ópera, só há intérpretes masculinos). E vamos vendo o trajecto destes dois homens, desde crianças até à velhice e as vicissitudes por que foram passando, com um papel também importante de uma prostituta com quem um deles casa... Não sei explicar bem a falta de intensidade nesta escrita, comparativamente com a que o filme nos dá, e não é que o livro seja desinteressante, até porque deu origem ao filme, mas o filme é muito mais nítido e forte.
As with many translated novels, some of the subliminal beauty of descriptions gets lost when translators may tend to focus on literal meanings rather than implied impressions. It was a quick read with most of my joy found in the writer's passion towards the same point as the book's main protagonist, Dieyi. This story shines at the start where an animated childhood and the love of opera are colorfully painted. I would love to have experienced China during this time of unrestrained artistic freedom and beauty.
As far as a historical memoir, one should pick up Wild Swans for a more thorough and detailed account of China's Cultural Revolution.
Si esperas encontrar un romance entre dos actores de ópera a través de cinco décadas en China, bueno, vas a encontrar lo segundo, además de la evolución como tal de la ópera china hasta que llega para quedarse la China comunista de Mao. Dieyi y Xiaolou forjan una amistad desde niños, cada cual en un papel asignado y que no podrán cambiar en el rumbo de sus carreras: Dieyi será siempre la protagonista femenina, y Xiaolou el protagonista masculino. Dieyi se enamora de Xiaolou, pero este se compromete con una prostituta, desarrollando así el principal conflicto entre los tres personajes que se alargará hasta el fin de sus carreras. La caída de Dieyi en el opio, su soledad a pesar de los numerosos amantes masculinos que toma intentando olvidar a Xiaolou sin conseguirlo y su resentimiento por su amor no correspondido es sin duda lo que más me ha impactado de la novela. Es narrativa histórica con un plot muy enfocado en la vida de los actores de ópera, la sexualidad, la explotación infantil y el afán por sobrevivir a las numerosas guerras y cambios culturales del país. No hay un final feliz como tal, pero tengo que decir que me lo esperaba muchísimo peor, así que puedo decir que no me he enfadado tanto como esperaba. Es una gran novela, preciosa, muy bien escrita, triste y dura, pero también bella. Estoy muy contenta de haber conseguido leer por fin este libro después de tanto tiempo buscándolo.
It's not often a book falls short of fulfilling the promise of a movie. Where the film "Farewell My Concubine" was lush, rich, nuanced, brightly colored, emotional, layered, and beautiful, the book was flat, affectless, emotionally distant, uninspiring.
It could be that the richness of the story was lost in the translation from the Chinese, or that the subtleties of an oppressed Chinese life in the 40s, 50s and 60s are just too subtle for me to grasp. But it felt like not enough time was given to either the relationships or the politics and history, so that both seemed to come up short.
Yes, I now have a better understanding of life under Mao, of Chinese high society and poverty of the mid 20th century, but truthfully what I really wanted from this book was an in-depth understanding of the relationship between the two leads. I guess I'll be turning back to the film again -- which isn't really a problem as it is a gorgeous and entertaining piece of art.
i have to say, when seeing the movie first then reading the book, it always fell beyond expectation. thought having it the other way around, mostly it pissed me off because i always felt that the movie is lack of details than with the book. so, i really enjoy reading the book after. i tried to remember the detail of the film, but it shortly failed me with the sad, short tone of the entire novel.
i felt sad finishing the book. tragic is more fitting i believe. it's like seeing another version of "happy together" of wong kar wai in another era and in another setting. it's even more saddening, like the one of the saddest story written ever before. the sadness suddenly wraps me up all of the sudden , thought it keep me alive. it keep me surviving the era of changes in china. it's like surviving a century, the 20th century. i felt like an old relic in the end of the final sentence.
Having taken lots of courses on 'gender' in my Latin American lit classes, this was a really interesting take on the roles of all-male theater. Lots of neat symbolism and a nice blend of eastern and western writing aesthetics (although other translations might be different). I also like any book that can teach me a little history through the story rather than vice versa. I'll probably check out the movie and maybe some of the author's other books. Seems like a good way to learn more about China without reading textbook-style tomes. Part of how much I like this book is probably hinged on the fact that it took me out of my normal comfort zone.
Puntuación: 0.5/5 lo odié🤮🤢 Reto ATY in 52 books: 27. A history or historical fiction Países: Hong Kong. Odié tanto esta novela que decidí no contarla para mi reto de países en China, no me parece justo. Como la autora es de Hong Kong, al ser un país dentro de un país, lo contaré separado, lo mismo que haré con Puerto Rico.
No tengo nada positivo que decir de esta novela. Es una ficción histórica sobre la opera de Pekin, con el trasfondo de todos los cambios politicos y socio-culturales de China. Lamentablemente no profundiza en la opera ni en esos aspectos sociales. Le dedica unas cuantas líneas a la invasión japonesa, pero es algo que apenas sucede a lo lejos en el fondo. Le dedica más tiempo a la parte del ascenso del comunismo y la llamada revolución cultural pero sufre de decir en lugar de mostrar.
Yo no creo que la literatura deba dejarnos un mensaje ni que deba ser nuestra brújula moral, pero si va a tener racismo, homofobia o temas parecidos, por lo menos que se sienta como que son los personajes que tienen estas características y no que es el mensaje final del libro. Siento que su retrato de la homosexualidad es desacertado, la autora solo me permite llegar a la conclusión de que Deiyi es el villano solo porque es gay. Pero el colmo fue describir una violación como "hacer el amor", que detestable🤮🤢.
Los personajes son sumamente planos, no cambian a medida que pasan los años. Además saber que Deyi es gay que el otro (no recuerdo el nombre) es su "hermano" y que Deyi odia a la esposa de éste, no hay más profundidad en ninguno de los tres. La única mujer del libro es una prostituta, sin palabra ni honor y, claro, es estéril.
Nunca entendí por que Deyi "amaba" tanto al otro. Nunca entendí por qué Xiolu o como se llame, amaba a su esposa. No hay profundidad.
Esto es un melodrama, demasiado largo, aburrido, olvidable y detestable la mayor parte del tiempo.
4.4. This is nothing less than a superb melancholic tragedy. It was hard to put this down despite the fact that every page left me stewing in more and more sorrow. By the virtue that it goes through over six decades of China’s tumultuous times, there’s a LOT packed in the book and it’s a wonder that our characters and all the real life people emerged from those times alive, though heavily scathed!
It’s thus a brilliant wonder that even in this utter state of despondency, the author does not forget to let us know that is a love story. A love story about our characters, a love story about opera, and a love story about the country. All these facets are interwoven in what may be, ironically, a poignant romance.
A romance that the author did an extremely beautiful job of making us care about the characters and immerse ourselves in their lives and all the vicissitudes contained therein. Ah, our poor Dieyi and Xiaolou. I just wish for them to be reborn in a lighthearted romance where the themes aren’t so heavy and their lives aren’t so burdened.
Anyway, I can finally watch the film whew.
P.S: I just want to know what was up with hongkong art scene in the 90s and them producing all these amazing melancholic films and novels that are somehow romances but just all so sad? What was in the water?
This book is a whole ass mess but I love it, it has a lot of inconsistencies and the translation is just ok but I still read an emotional story that sort of feels like it’s an opera itself the ~drama~ of it all....
A must read for Asian lit fans. This is a classic.
If you love Chinese history and Peking Opera, you're sure to enjoy this tale of two best friends who grow up in the opera, only to have a woman come between them.
My rating for this book (using yes or no criteria): • Timelessness: 1 • Philosophical Insight: 1 • Shift in Perspective (changed my views in any significant way): 1 • Emotional Impact: 1 • Political Depth: 1 • Moral Complexity (Does the book present morally ambiguous situations or characters that challenge easy judgments?): Yes 1 • Character Attachment( Did I form a deep emotional or intellectual connection with the characters) : Yes 1 • Flawless Craftsmanship( If I were to rewrite this book, would I feel the need to change more than a page?) : No 1 • Loyalty to the Author (Would I passionately defend the author in any debate or discussion, solely because of the strength of this book?) : Yes 1 • Future Revisit( Will I want to read this book again exactly two decades from now?) : No 0
Nice book, easy to read, that gives light on the cultural and political landscape of China after WW II with the implementation of Communism in China. The book also explores the art of Opera singing and how culturally important it was in China around 1930-50, through the life story of 2 friends and opera singers/performers.
It started off so promising…I really enjoyed the first few chapters of the book, it felt a bit like a Dickens novel and I was excited for how the story would unfold. But I quickly found myself losing that excitement to the point where I was just forcing myself to read to finish the book.
My biggest issue is that the characters and events of this novel don’t feel fully realized. The pacing is so fast and never really gives you time to sit with the characters or the events. It felt like the author was just trying to get from one historically significant event to the other, and considering how tumultuous Chinese history is, it just becomes hardship after hardship.
Aside from that, I’m also just not quite sure what the author wanted me to feel about the two principle character’s relationship. This is the very core of the novel. And yet, Dieyi’s love for Xiaolou just felt so spiteful and bitter. In general, I didn’t really like Dieyi as a character, sure I can empathize with some of the things he had to endure, but there was still so little to like about him. His only real positive character trait is the fact that he’s a beautiful and talented actor. Apart from history itself, I guess Juxian is supposed to be the villain of this story, but yet I found myself sympathizing with her much more than Dieyi. The final scenes would probably have been more effective if I’d been more invested in the principal character’s’ relationship…but by that point I was kind of hoping for them just to go their separate ways. The little bait and switch was cool tho.
I haven’t watched the movie yet, but I’m still planning to see it, if only for Leslie Cheung. Maybe it will be a rare case of the book being better than the movie.
Nel 1929, Xiao Douzi viene abbandonato dalla madre quando ha solo nove anni presso il maestro Guan con un contratto da apprendista per dieci anni. Da Guan apprenderà l'arte del recitare e stringerà un legame indissolubile con l'amico Xiao Shitou.
Xiao Douzi, i cui lineamenti delicati lo destinano a diventare "dan", ovvero l'attore principale che ricopre ruoli femminili e che in passato era ricoperto solo da uomini, con il passare degli anni si innamora del compagno di scena Xiao Shitou, che invece è "sheng", il protagonista maschile, e diventano famosi per i loro ruoli nell'opera teatrale "Addio mia concubina".
Ma in un gioco di sovrapposizioni tra realtà e finzione, la vita personale ricalcherà quella di scena, con Douzi completamente devoto alla sua carriera e morbosamente attaccato a Xiao Shitou anche quando questi si sposerà con la prostituta Juxian.
Sullo sfondo storico dell'occupazione giapponese e della rivoluzione culturale, dagli anni '20 al '60, la storia del due amici si dipana tra gli alti e i bassi. Nonostante le difficoltà e le reciproche vendette, si serberanno nei pensieri e nei ricordi con affetto indissolubile.
Il tono malinconico del libro riceve le mie simpatie, con scene davvero belle che sono facili da immaginare: come quando Douzi brucia i suoi ricchi costumi di scena pur di non cederli ai "compagni" con soddisfazione e dolore infinito. Difficile forse da recuperare (ma grazie mercatini!), ma davvero imperdibile.
Da questo libro è stato tratto anche il famoso film "Addio mia concubina", che devo ancora recuperare.