In December 1941, Japanese troops landed on the northern coast of Borneo and began a brutal three-year, eight-month occupation. Set in a forgotten theater of World War II, The Crossing of the Boars is a gripping magical-realist tale of a multiethnic village fighting for survival.
Opening years after the war, with the Village of the Boars enveloped in wildfire smoke and confronted with a puzzling suicide, Zhang Guixing’s novel immerses readers in a tropical society plagued by violence. Once overrun with wild boars, Krokop finds itself overrun with Japanese soldiers, who prove harder to expel. The bloodshed of the initial invasion sparks a protracted guerilla resistance led by such characters as Boar King Chu, Oddball Zhung, Turtle Tsin, Red-Face Guan, Flat-Nose Chiew, and Skinny Shim. As the atrocities of the “devil” invaders mount, the jungle takes its own toll with wildfires, headhunters, crocodile attacks, macaque wars, and visitations by the vampire Pontianak. A phantasmagoria of jungle shadows, yōkai demons, and opium hallucinations make the hunters and the hunted alike unable to distinguish friend from foe, human from beast, and self from other.
The Crossing of the Boars is a stylistic masterpiece, a dazzling mix of ecological fantasy and labyrinthine mystery. Celebrated for its linguistic virtuosity reminiscent of Gabriel García Márquez, William Faulkner, James Joyce, and Salman Rushdie, Zhang Guixing’s magnum opus is an epic work of historical fiction.
Imaginez un tableau du Douanier Rousseau. Puis une invasion japonaise qui vient slasher dedans à coup de Katana.
Du réalisme magique, des contes et légendes de Bornéo, un groupe d'enfants avec des masques de Yokai qui bombardent les toits de tôle. Et l'horreur qui débarque. Avec un grand H.
Très violent, une plume fabuleuse. Peut-être un peu long.
PS: j'ai compté au moins 60 fois le mot "urine" dans le roman. Si on ajoute les autres synonymes, on doit dépasser le 100. Disons que ça de l'importance dans le récit!
Livre remarquable. Parle de la guerre contre les japonais à Bornéo. Le climat tant physique que psychologique est pesant. Il est parfois un peu difficile de comprendre ce qui est de la réalité et ce qui ressort du rêve opiomane mais c’est splendide.
un chef-d’œuvre du réalisme magique comme un tableau un douanier rousseau mais malheureusement l’aspect sordide et organique de l’écriture m’a laissé en dehors du récit mais je vois clairement le chef-d’œuvre, juste je ne suis pas sensible à cette histoire 🫶🏻
Dans cette fresque historique fictionnelle mais réaliste concernant les années 1920 jusqu'à 1952, Zhang Guixing relate l'histoire des habitants du village de Krokop sur l'île de Bornéo, également appelé le Bouk aux Sangliers. Les habitants sont en grande majorité d'origine chinoise.
L'arrivée des japonais à la fin des années 1930 (lors du conflit sino-japonais pendant lequel certains personnages ont lutté clandestinement) puis pendant la seconde Guerre mondiale, et notamment leur cruauté, est l'un des grands axes du récit. Le roman relate également la mode de vie sur Bornéo. Au début de certains chapitres, on trouve quelques paragraphes explicatifs le détaillant.
Pour la faire simple, chaque chapitre détaille (parfois très longuement) une anecdote concernant la vie du village, allant de la chasse aux sangliers, la consommation d'opium, aux amours des uns et des autres et en passant jusqu'à la survie pendant l'occupation japonaise.
Attention, certains passages sont violents. TW : meurtres, viols, violences sexuelles, violences envers les animaux, violences envers les enfants.
J'ai vraiment apprécié la lecture de ce roman bien que les fréquents retours dans le passé et les délires des opiomanes la rendent parfois difficile à suivre.
Un merveilleux livre. Un peu difficile à suivre au début, mais une fois que l'on commence à suivre l'histoire, il est fascinant. Les descriptions de la vie du village, des gens, de la faune et de la flore, qui se sont installées sur un village éloigné de l'île de Bornéo pendant les périodes entre les années 1920 et 1940, étaient si réalistes. Mes parents et mes grands-parents vivaient sur une île comme celle-là, à environ 600 km a l’ouest de l'océan, à la même période. Je suis né quelques décennies plus tard et je n'y ai vécu que quelques années. Mais à l'exception des massacres des villageois par les soldats japonais, toutes les descriptions dans le livre étaient si réelles et familières (les sangliers, l’opium, les surnoms, la vie quotidienne) basées sur ma petite expérience d'enfant et les histoires racontées par mon père.
Le livre est écrit de manière poétique. Les détails étaient très beaux. Cependant, c'est une histoire pleine de difficultés, détresses, et de cruautés. C'était déchirant. L'écrivain était assez cruel avec le destin de chaque personnage. Il y a eu les surprises après les surprises jusqu’à la dernière page.
J’étais partie pour un 2/5 au vu du sort réservé aux femmes (et surtout aux jeunes filles 🤬) dans ce roman et à la faune mais on se rend compte que les hommes paient pour les maux qu’ils causent ! Je peux comprendre qu’on puisse détester ce roman ! Une écriture trop tendancieuse, ça épuise donc plutôt un 3,5.
Une course à travers la jungle et l’histoire et les fantômes et les hallucinations et les sons et… Une expérience de lecture comme je n’en ai jamais eu jusqu’alors. Très exigeante aussi, il faut accepter de ne pas saisir tous les personnages, les noms d’arbres, d’oiseaux ou de singes mais tout se tient et gagne en cohérence à la fin.
Entre la densité de la langue et les sauts dans le temps non explicites, j'ai cru que j'abandonnerais en cours de route ! Finalement une fois qu'on accepte de se laisser porter, le roman est intense, poétique et violent et on aimerait qu'on ne s'arrête plus.
I tried to like this book but I failed. I cannot follow the story after I read a couple of chapters. I dislike Mr. Zhang’s style. But this is just my option.
The Crossing of the Boars by Zhang Guixing Translated by Christopher Rea and Julie M. Wang
Rated: 4 star rating
I just finished reading The Crossing of the Boars by Zhang Guixing, and it is unlike any World War II book I have ever read. Most stories take place in Europe, but this one drops you into the sweaty rainforests of Borneo during the Japanese invasion.
The setting is a small village called Krokop that already had to deal with massive, stampeding waves of wild boars before the soldiers even showed up. It is violent and intense, but what makes it unique is how it mixes history with creepy ghost stories and local myths.
The rainforest itself feels like a monster that is trying to kill everyone. While people are fighting, the jungle is throwing wildfires, monkey wars, and a terrifying vampire spirit called the Pontianak at them. The local fighters have wild nicknames like Boar King Chu, Red-Face Guan, and Turtle Tsin.
The book actually starts in the future with a character named Guan Ah-fung dying by suicide, which kicks off a mystery about who the village traitors were during the war. It jumps around in time a lot, which can get confusing, but it is an action packed survival epic that keeps you hooked from the beginning to the end.
Thank you, NetGalley, Columbia University Press, and author, Zhang Guixing, and translated by Christopher Rea and Julie M. Wang, for providing me with a copy of this ebook for review consideration. All review opinions are my own.
The story describes several years in the life of a small community in Borneo, spanning the period before, during, and after the Japanese invasion. It is difficult to point to a single protagonist, other than perhaps the community itself, as it survives colonial powers, constant battles with an aggressive endemic boar population, a hyper-violent Japanese occupation, and growing fissures within itself.
The narrative is made up of episodes told in a non-linear fashion, offering glimpses of different timelines and different villagers. This keeps the reader constantly engaged, trying to piece everything together into a cohesive whole while carefully placed foreshadowing creates a persistent sense of dread about what is still to come.
As a whole, the book is an unflinching account of warfare and survival. The author spares no one (including the reader), portraying things for what they are: the unimaginable cruelty of the Japanese occupiers (who spare no one, including themselves), the viciousness and aggression of the villagers (many of whom are so addicted to opium that their judgement is more often addled than not), and the pervasive presence of the jungle, its boars and monkeys (perhaps representing nature at its purest and most indifferent).
Many of the scenes are not for the faint of heart and vividly depict brutal acts: murder, rape, child abuse, war crimes, and the everyday cruelty of life in these environments. There is very little hope here, and survival seems to be all that ultimately matters.
In some ways, perhaps that is the book's central theme. Despite the horrific things that can and do happen, what matters is the survival of a group of individuals so that they can continue the struggle for just one more day. Naturally, the novel is also a profound anti-war cry of pain, as well as a fundamental rejection of occupation in all its forms (people occupying people, and people occupying jungles).
This is among the best books I have ever read. Form and function are perfectly aligned: the fragmented narrative holds the reader and never lets go, the writing is punchy and contains almost nothing superfluous, and the ideas underpinning it are profound.
This book deserves to be much more widely read. It has the potential to become a true classic, one capable of influencing generations of readers.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an early copy of this book in return for an honest review.
Even though I DNFd this book, I’m giving it three stars. For me, 3 stars is — in essence — saying “it’s a book.” It has a beginning and an end, the writing is fine, the plot is fine, and it did what it was supposed to do, which is tell me a story. While I don’t know how this book ended, and do not know the entirety of the story, what I did read of it was … fine.
This is a translated work, and in the introduction the translators explain how certain choices were made, how certain events in the book — drawn from actual history — were altered to suit the narrative of the story. The translated version reads … fine. Much of my reading problems aren’t the fault of the translator, just how the book was written, which is to have giant paragraphs take up an entire page; which means a ten page chapter is only ten paragraphs long. These paragraphs are full of small details to set a scene, and while sometimes this is very interesting — such as how an armless father made a slingshot and a kite for his son — some of them just go on and on in an effort to describe a scene in three or four different ways.
It’s also a cold book, telling and telling and telling me about the miseries and horrors of this world, and I’m just not in a place where I want to read this story about these events happening to these people. Maybe several months from now, or another year, I’ll come back and give it a try … because there’s something there. But it’s just not something I’m ready to read right now.
Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for this ARC.
Walking into the novel — two days in Miri. Met the Miri River (called the Zhuba River in the book), hiked up Canada Hill, wandered through the rainforest, and even came across traditional stilt houses. ⋯⋯
Abandon. Je n'arrive pas à m'intéresser à l'histoire, les personnages féminins sont tous plus caricaturaux les uns que les autres et rien ne semble mener nulle part. J'ai embrayé sur d'autres livres et carrément oublié que je l'avais commencé avant que Goodreads ne me rappelle sont existence.