Die drei Sprünge des Wang-lun. Chinesischer Roman

by Alfred Döblin, Walter Muschg (Postface)

Döblins erster großer Roman

Terror und politische Verfolgung, Religion und Gewaltlosigkeit sind die zentralen Themen des erstmals 1915/16 im S. Fischer Verlag erschienenen ›Wang-lun‹. Mit seiner modernen Erzähltechnik und den beeindruckenden Massenszenen begeisterte das Buch die zeitgenössische Kritik. »Nimmt man es in der heutigen Zeit des Terrorismus in die Hand«, so Günter Grass, »wirkt das Werk ungeheuer aktuell.«

Mit einem Nachwort von Gabriele Sander

Genres: German Literature, China, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literature, Novels, Roman

502 pages, Paperback

First published November 2, 1915

About the author

Bruno Alfred Döblin (August 10, 1878 – June 26, 1957) was a German novelist, essayist, and doctor, best known for his novel Berlin Alexanderplatz (1929). A prolific writer whose œuvre spans more than half a century and a wide variety of literary movements and styles, Döblin is one of the most important figures of German literary modernism. His complete works comprise over a dozen novels ranging in genre from historical novels to science fiction to novels about the modern metropolis; several dramas, radio plays, and screenplays; a true crime story; a travel account; two book-length philosophical treatises; scores of essays on politics, religion, art, and society; and numerous letters — his complete works, republished by Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag and Fischer Verlag, span more than thirty volumes. His first published novel, Die drei Sprünge des Wang-lung (The Three Leaps of Wang Lun), appeared in 1915 and his final novel, Hamlet oder Die lange Nacht nimmt ein Ende (Tales of a Long Night) was published in 1956, one year before his death.

Reviews

[L.S. Popovich · Rating 3 out of 5]

Alfred Döblin considered this an epic. It is one of his shortest books. He wrote it during a time when he practiced medicine. It was a response to German Expressionist principles. I would like to read more of his commentary and response to this literary movement, which was excerpted in the excellent introduction to this novel. Döblin's response was a revivification of the traditional epic form. Many German authors composed immense, breathtaking, panoramic novels in the 18th, 19th, & 20th centuries. You have Goethe, Mann, Doderer, Uwe Johnson, Schmidt, and several others. I'm lumping Austrian in with German literature. The borders were too confusing.

Döblin's first novel poses with a subtitle: "A Chinese Novel". This is both incorrect and unnecessary IMO. It's a German novel with a Chinese setting. Based on my reading experience, any resemblance it has to Chinese literature is incidental. Any resemblance to literature in general is also illusory. Any novel by Mo Yan is more poignant than this one.

Over time, this was hailed as a masterpiece and a "neglected classic." Grass and Brecht called it a major influence. It's an unwieldy, inflated historical romp, composed of 90% summary. Very old-fashioned in structure, pre-modern in style, and sprinkled with Döblinisms like: “Between massive chunks, on the ground, lurked the puffball with the greeny-white cap: pretty white ruffs hung about its throat; so as not to touch the oozy damp soil it wore a delicate toecap, a shoe no thicker than skin.” - He's describing a mushroom. He riffs on a subject for 10-15 sentences. Experimentally, it works well. But he only exercises his stylistic elegance once every fifty pages or so. The brilliant passages in the book are so few and far between that the general impression I gained from my reading is one of extreme disinterest.

I'll reiterate what other reviewers said. This edition was poorly proofed. About 120-150 typos. And they are ugly, like: "roooof."

Döblin overuses portmanteaus. See here: "it sprinkled the rivermouth and the sheltered coast with houseboats. If not for the yardthick wall with its watchtowers, this rockhard gnashing jawbone of the town," - he often slides his imagery into blurry unfocus. Giving the double-barreled words a German compound flavor doesn't serve this Oriental mystique, no?

His un-outlined method of impressionistic painting with prose poetry conveys a sense of chaotic movement, a ghostly possession by image-rich phantasms. It is a brew of borrowed ingredients, enchanting at first, but contrived at length. The sublime unintelligibleness of his abstract patterns detract from the narrative flow, and become linguistic jigsaws. He was concerned with crafting a symphonic sense amid traditional themes. The story is full of rebellion, strife, and dogma. His large-scale world building in the form of a pervasive political climate is mainly a jumble of Chinese place names and historical figures. It is a sturm and drang of events whirlwinding around the bafoonish protagonist, a revolution composed of disparate elements, an exotic dog-pile of cobbled tropes.

Honor, thievery, rapscallionism, beleaguered journeying through barbaric lands, living hand to mouth, itinerant storytelling, decapitation of a bat demon gray witch. - You will find a couple instances of magical realism. They are rather pathetic, considering China has possessed the largest quantity of fantasy, magical realism, and high-quality storytelling for the past 5000 years. I really wish Döblin had read a few more Chinese novels before attempting this feeble imitation.

It suffers from a uniform texture of dull summary, a mimicry of historical textbook glossing.

It is a dense, teeming menagerie, a mosaic of themes, an anthill of frilled, image-drenched prose, suffused with an onslaught of tessellated context, unabated, discordant, riddled with goofs and glitches, tossed off with aplomb, barreling forward in a jungle of tangled references, awash in blended perfumes, evocative of its setting in ever-budding keyword-usage, until it's watered down, filtered through Döblin's perceptible struggle with the material, and it becomes gruesomely uninteresting.

Its great passages occur like passing comets, followed by endless summary of wide-reaching, far-flung consequences, divested of imagination, extrapolation, and context. What he might have accomplished in a few pages, he stretches over 400 at the expense of character development, personality, dialogue, and excitement.

Picking apart the layers of artifice with which he clothes his story was diverting for me, as I quickly tired of the dangling story threads. I came away with about 300 keywords to consider using for my own wuxia novel. There's a lot of window-dressing here, but what happens behind the window was not memorable.

The literary approach was reminiscent of Can Xue in a way. But Xue is a master of motif, and Döblin comes off as forced. Mo Yan's novels contain more variety, seamless elegance, relevant scenes, and interesting characters, and Yan isn't even one of my favorite writers. That puts Döblin's production pretty low on my list.

Some other clunky problems include: the protagonist's twists of fate are explained away as destiny, many things fall into place randomly, propelling Wang Lun to a meteoric rise to power he didn't earn. He is the kind of rape-and-pillage enthusiast so often satirized throughout ancient literature. He acts despicably, morally bereft, yet extols Wu Wei, Confusianism, Tao, and Tibetan wisdom with alacrity. Not only does his attitude not make sense, it's insulting to someone interested in Eastern philosophy.

Wang Lun's jaunt through Tibet was a nice change of pace, coming out of nowhere and resulting in little development, but by that point we know that the most extraordinary circumstances will have no effect on his behavior. All of the side characters are caricatures, and blend together by virtue of their names and how they simply bounce off the main character without discernible purpose.

Döblin's brand of writing is a recounting of "events," where motivation is not explicit. The meekness expounded by the characters is obnoxious and doesn't line up with their actions at all. A lack of martial arts discounts this novel as a possible wuxia genre piece. Instead, it is a blend of historical summary, literary indulgence, and philosophical wandering. On the whole, I was disengaged after 140 pages, at which point there is a drastic and extremely noticeable decline in quality. Döblin used all of his Chinese keywords like "palanquin, catalpa, mimosa, moxa sticks, mutton dumplings, etc." and reverts to a dry, uninteresting sentence rhythm, bereft of charisma. He is capable of great things, but this is a lazily written novel.

Chinoiserie in the cheapest sense, an artifact of German literature, but an unimaginative lack of voice and focus mars what could have been a masterpiece. There are several armed revolts, about a page-worth's brilliant description, and the first 100 or so pages to intrigue the interested reader. I hope that his other so-called works of genius offer more of an authentic experience than this disappointing flop.

[Jörg · Rating 2 out of 5]

Döblin is almost an obsession for me. I am fascinated by his expressionistic style since I chose Berlin Alexanderplatz for a review in high school. The Three Leaps of Wang Lun is the seventh of his books I read. By now, I've learned that his books are hit-or-miss for me. Luckily, my first experiences with Berlin Alexanderplatz and Wallenstein were great. I also enjoyed "Pardon wird nicht gegeben". Babylon is fine and has something to offer if you are into his experimental style but has its weaknesses and is a bit too long. Wadzek is the weakest book and I cannot recommend it. Berge, Meere und Giganten is extremely weird and fascinating but was too much for me.

That leaves Wang-Lun. It's one of his earliest books. Accordingly, his expressionistic style was still under development. In some passages as the introduction you already can see the signs of what was to come with Berlin Alexanderplatz. But often enough, it's not there yet. He is already trying his hand, it is not an easy read, but it doesn't get its hold on me as his later works. Also, the theme didn't help its case, at least for me.

Wang-Lun is an obscure historical figure from 17th century China. A culture I'm not really interested in or familiar with. The philosophy behind the story might help those who are engaged with buddhism. Wang-Lun heads a sect calling themselves the truly weak. In essence, a precursor to what Gandhi practiced successfully against the British Empire in India. Wang-Lun ultimately fails, leaping first into this philosophy of foregoing violence in their resistance against the emperor, then leaping away from his followers into an ordinary life, finally leaping back to the helm of his revolutionary forces, this time utilizing violence.

My rating is a representation of my personal enjoyment. There are other books by Döblin I enjoy more and are more worth the effort his books need. I doubt that I will read more books by him. His historical work November 1918 is tempting but more than 2,400 pages about a part of German history long gone is too much considering my remaining lifetime. Probably, I return to reading Wallenstein instead.

[Kai Weber · Rating 4 out of 5]

My expectations towards this book were disappointed, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. So what was the initial expectation? I thought this is a novel about the taoist concept of Wu Wei (Non-acting). The first page seemed to justify my prospects:
"They had no abode, begged the rice, the bean broth they needed, helped the peasants, artisans at their work. They did not preach, sought no converts. The literati who mingled with them strove in vain to hear from them a religious dogma. They had no icons, did not speak of the Wheel of Existence. At night many made their camp under rocks, in the vast forests, mountain caves."
We are then presented with the conversion story of protagonist Wang Lun from a rogue to an ambassador of "true weakness" and "non-interference". So far, so expected. But in the developing sectarian struggles the taoist principles get blurred at least, rather lost. All characters get so deeply steeped in worldliness that no spiritual core can be seen anymore through the crust of red dust that covers them. For long stretches of pages Wang Lun disappears from the reader's eye and we follow different sect leaders as well as the events in emperor Qianlong's palace (who is asking the 6th Panchen Lama of Tibet, Lobsang Palden Yeshe, for advice how to deal with all the rebellious movements in his empire). More and more this book becomes a study of how humans lose their ideals, or shift ideals within a few weeks' time. The motivation of Wang Lun, the former sect-leader, who has withdrawn into a simple fisherman's life, to re-appear on the scene and lead a revolt against the Qing dynasty, a revolt that is trying to reinstall the Ming dynasty and is therefore heavily imbued with Han nationalism, this motivation is totally unclear. The only difference the Wu Wei philosophy seems to make is that those who adhere to it can die more easily, serenely.
OK, novels are probably not supposed to be spiritual guides anyway, so the betrayal of my expectations doesn't invalidate the book. What makes it a good book? It was the first great novel of expressionism in German literature, and its writing style is a bit strange, and therefore kind of fresh until today. Bold metaphors, sentences often just made out of long strings of nouns, intentional nebulosity, exoticist usage of Chinese vocabulary and a virtuosic depiction of crowds are the assets of this novel.
We don't get answers from the book, but the questions are interesting. In the afterword of my edition, Walter Muschg sums it up nicely: "As vividly as the individual scenes are crafted, as fragmentary, fleetingly allusive, often playful the whole is. Even the trail of the Truly Weak is not becoming graphically clear in spite of the crowd scenery descriptions. The historical background is drawn astonishingly badly, the motivation of actions often remains unclear, because it is presented too tersely. This novel is the ingenious jugglery of a poet of rare imagination, who raises the fateful questions of his time and his existence, to let them float away as splendidly iridescent soap bubbles and who doesn't sense that they're somebody going to slay him."

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel takes quite a bit of time to get into, but rewards patience. This is partly because even though the (restored) Prologue gives structure to the larger work (Chao Hui reappears *much* later), Doblin doesn't deign to provide psychological insight into his characters' motives. Nevertheless, I found the novel's final third riveting.

However, I was slightly disappointed in this edition from NYRB. The edition is well-bound in quality paper, but needed another thorough proofreading before it went to press. There are a number of glaring typos throughout the book, to the point where it became noticeable.

Still, this is an important novel in the history of German and indeed, world literature, and I'm thrilled that it exists in an affordable English translation.

[Katya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Super!

[Bryn Hammond · Rating 4 out of 5]

A curiosity.
I'm intrigued when Great Modernists try a turn at historical fiction (why choose my genre? What did they hope to say, that escaped their contemporary work?). For a third of this novel I hoped to put it beside Thomas Mann's Joseph and His Brothers, even the transcendent Death of Virgil by Hermann Broch. But when Doblin left the sectarians and their hardscrabble existence, told with a blurry metaphysics, onto courts and high priests and kings, the story collapsed into an ill-done and ordinary histfic. The last quarter I spent worrying whether he indeed thought that Ming was the royal surname in the Ming dynasty?
Until then, I'd argued to myself that I don't care about accuracy. I was interested in Doblin's chinoiserie, why he chose China and what China meant to him; I wanted to see him in collision (however ugly) with extraneous material from a distant culture. And his choice of material, a religiously-inflected popular revolt, was my kind of thing. But it all became rather bad.
Still, an experiment. I'm glad to have wandered through it.

[Cock Johnson · Rating 3 out of 5]

There are some really great scenes in here- Ma No and the sectarians in the swamp, the massacre in the Mongolian village. I really liked these parts and I'm interested in reading more of his work.

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

An amazing and yet puzzling literary creation. One cannot question the talent and genius that went into this work. But where it fits in the author's works and what message it is intended to convey to the reader is a much more complex (and not easily answered) question.

[Clemens · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ein historischer Roman, der Döblin zur damaligen Zeit um 1913 herum erstmals einen gewissen Bekanntheitsgrad verschaffte in der Berliner Literaturszene. Gleichzeitig stellt er auch für ihn selbst einen Wandel dar zu einem neuartigen Erzählstil, den er auch in folgenden Romanen beibehalten wird sowie einen Wechsel der Selbstwahrnehmung von einem Arzt und Wissenschaftler, bei dem Literatur und Kunst nur ein Randdasein führen, hin zu jemandem, bei dem die schriftstellerische Tätigkeit eine vorwiegende Rolle im Leben erteilt wird.

Dieses Werk ist ein politisch und gesellschaftlich relevantes, das zeitlos und ortsunabhängig ist. Es geht hier also nicht unbedingt allein um die Darstellung eines historischen Ereignisses in China um deren selbst Willen, sondern vielmehr um die Instrumentalisierung dieses Ereignisses zur Veranschaulichung von Themen wie Rebellion, Revolution und Gewalt durch Autorität. Jedoch ist dieser Roman vermutlich ebenso relevant für Menschen, welche sich näher mit fernöstlicher Philosophie, Taoismus, Kunfuzianismus, Wu-Wei auseinandersetzen möchten.

Döblin hat meiner Ansicht nach einen für ihn sehr charakteristischen Erzählstil, der hier vielleicht noch etwas weniger als in Berlin Alexanderplatz zum Ausdruck kommt. Er drückt sich sprachlich oft zumindest im Vergleich zu anderen Autoren eigenartig aus, um eine besondere Stimmung zu kreieren. Auch besonders charakteristisch für seinen Stil ist die oft voneinander unabhängigen Handlungsstränge. Mir ist klar, dass er dies bewusst tut und dies vermutlich auch mehr dem Zweck des Buches nachkommen kann, die vorhin genannten Themen und deren Folgen adäquat darzustellen als es ein Einzelschicksal in diesem Fall tun könnte, jedoch macht dies den Roman nicht unbedingt leichter zu lesen. Durch die oft wechselnden Charakter gelang es mir bei vielen abgesehen von Wang nicht wirklich eine Empfindung zu oder ein „Mitfiebern“ mit diesen Personen zu entwickeln, was das Lesen oft etwas eintönig gemacht hat.

[꧍꧍-2 Integrated history-horizon Second · Rating 1 out of 5]

чем дальше тем хуже, по большей части нечитабельно, не рекомендую.

[Dario · Rating 2 out of 5]

Eins steht fest: So klug und durchdacht Döblins "Berliner Programm" auch ist, es in die Tat umzusetzen fiel ihm deutlich schwerer, als sich das Kustprinzip auszudenken.

Fast 500 Seiten lang wird man Zeuge des dilettantischen Versuches des jungen Döblins ein "modernes Epos" zu konstruieren. Das er sich bei seinem ersten Anlauf eines chinesischen Sujets annahm verwundert nicht, spielte sich doch nur wenige Jahre vor Veröffentlichung des Romans die quasi Absetzung der Quing Dynastie in China ab, was wohl erste Inspiration für die Handlung gewesen sein dürfte.

Wer jedoch einen fundierten Historienroman erwartet wird bitter enttäuscht: Das Chinesische ist nur Kulisse; ja eigentlich ein Fremdkörper im Buch verglichen mit den übertrieben sprachlich ausladenen Beschreibungen und dem unangenehmen Exotizismus, welcher aus jeder Seite hervorquellt. Hinzu kommt ein überladenes Wirrwarr von Rebellionen, Intrigen am Kaiserhof und sonstiger Kolpoltage. Gerade dies war jedoch ausschlaggebend für den großen Erfolg bei Kritik und Publikum, welchen Döblin 1916 erzielte. Man erwartete eben keinen anspruchsvollen, authentischen Roman über eine spannende Epoche Chinas, sondern ein wenig Action und Gewalt vor historischem Panorama. Ja, einige Kritiker lobten sogar ironischerweise das "gekonnte Einfühlungsvermögen in das Wesen einer fremden Kultur".

Wer auch nur einmal einen wirklichen "chinesischen Roman" (wie Döblin zu allem Überfluss sein Buch auch noch untertitelt) wie z B "Der Traum der roten Kammer" gelesen hat, der wird nur den Kopf schütteln können über soviel Unvermögen sich mit Stil und Wirkung einer fremden Nationalliteratur zu beschäftigen.

Nun gut, immerhin ermöglichte der Erfolg des Buches Döblin den S. Fischer Verlag von sich zu überzeugen und somit konnten seine späteren, anspruchsvolleren Romane öffentlichkeitswirksam verlegt werden.
Ein Gutes hat der Roman also doch.

[Richard Anderson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some fine writing. But poorly translated with many typos.