Die chinesische Wegbereiterin der Moderne Eileen Changs fünf brillante Erzählungen spiegeln die Umbruchzeit der 40er Jahre in China wider. Sie erzählen vom Leben der Frauen, die sich ihren Weg bahnen zwischen rigider Familienmoral und dem Versprechen auf Selbstbestimmung. In "Das goldene Joch", der bekanntesten Geschichte der chinesischen Moderne, muss eine Frau sich entscheiden, ob sie die Zwänge einer arrangierten Ehe oder die vermeintliche Freiheit des Konkubinats aushalten will. Qiqiao ist mittellos, aber schön. Im China Mitte des 20. Jahrhunderts hat sie die Wahl, sich vor das goldene Joch einer arrangierten Ehe spannen oder als Konkubine aushalten zu lassen. Qiqiao heiratet in die reiche Jiang-Familie ein und muss sich mit dem bettlägerigen Sohn abfinden. Sie hasst ihren Mann, und in ihrer Einsamkeit verliebt sie sich in den gut aussehenden Schwager. Gefangen in der strikten Familienordnung und den Gehässigkeiten ihrer Verwandtschaft hilflos ausgeliefert, beginnt sie Trost im Opium zu suchen. Qiqiao zerbricht an ihrer Zeit, in der das moderne Versprechen der Selbstbestimmung neben der rigiden Moral und dem konfuzianischen Familienideal steht. In dieser und vier weiteren Erzählungen erweckt Eileen Chang das sich wandelnde Shanghai der 40er Jahre zum Leben. "Eileen Changs psychologisches Gespür und ihr sprachliches Geschick sind überwältigend." Neue Zürcher Zeitung "Das goldene Die brillanteste Erzählung der gesamten chinesischen Literaturgeschichte." Kindlers Literaturlexikon
Eileen Chang is the English name for Chinese author 張愛玲, who was born to a prominent family in Shanghai (one of her great-grandfathers was Li Hongzhang) in 1920.
She went to a prestigious girls' school in Shanghai, where she changed her name from Chang Ying to Chang Ai-ling to match her English name, Eileen. Afterwards, she attended the University of Hong Kong, but had to go back to Shanghai when Hong Kong fell to Japan during WWII. While in Shanghai, she was briefly married to Hu Lancheng, the notorious Japanese collaborator, but later got a divorce.
After WWII ended, she returned to Hong Kong and later immigrated to the United States in 1955. She married a scriptwriter in 1956 and worked as a screenwriter herself for a Hong Kong film studio for a number of years, before her husband's death in 1967. She moved from New York to Los Angeles in 1972 and became a hermit of sorts during her last years. She passed away alone in her apartment in 1995.
Io penso che Zhang Ailing sia una delle scrittrici migliori che il ventesimo secolo ci ha regalato. Questo romanzo breve (o racconto lungo) riesce a descrivere e a farci immaginare la psicologia di personaggi complessi. Essi sono simbolo di una Cina che è passata, ma che, come conclude l'autrice:
"La luna di trent'anni fa è già da tempo tramontata, e sono morti quelli di trent'anni fa, ma le storie di trent'anni fa non sono finite, non possono finire."
Sarà stato per il gran caldo ma, fra seconda signora, terza cognata, sorellina minore e quant'altro, ho fatto una gran confusione. Mi sembrava di poter essere costantemente interrogata, ogni volta che leggevo un nome proprio, dallo spettro di una vecchia insegnante dispotica che mi chiedeva con insistenza: "chi è lei? la seconda o la terza signora? e se si tratta della terza, è la terza cognata di chi? e la sorella di chi altro?" Insomma un inferno di continue inaguetezze al testo. Mi sono persa in queste futili domande tralasciando il filo logico della storia. Solo dopo le prime 50 pagine, mi sono arresa e ho deciso di non farci più caso godendomi la storia, o forse mi sono solo assuefatta alla "gerarchia familiare cinese", se così si può chiamare. Cosa rimane dunque alla fine di questo racconto? La storia di una donna cattiva inacidita dalla vita che si sente costantemente inadeguata e giudicata dal prossimo. Il suo rancore sfocia in comportamenti spietati nei confronti della famiglia e soprattutto dei figli. Il suo amore non ricambiato, il marito invalido che le hanno affibbiato, sono solo alcune delle scuse che la portano a scegliere l'oblio dell'oppio e che la trasformano in uno dei personaggi più irritanti che abbia mai letto.
This has been my introduction to Chang and now I can't imagine why I hadn't read her before. The first story tells of Weilong, a good student living in Hong-Kong who, when her parents decide to emigrate back to their native Shanghai for economic reasons, takes the fateful step of asking her aunt Mrs Liang to help her out. Weilong is afraid of losing a year and would rather stay in the same school. However, Mrs Liang who, against the wishes of her family, chose to be the concubine of a wealthy old man rather than marry within her own class, is hardly the one to take studies seriously. She only accepts to help Weilong if the girl lives under her roof and not in boarding school, because she hopes to use her as bait to attract young men to her home. Now a wealthy widow with faded looks, Mrs Liang likes nothing better than to be seen as still attractive to younger men. Weilong ends up falling in love with one of the gigolos who hang around Mrs Liang's house. Although she has no illusions at all about Georgie, she marries him, on the understanding that from then on she will prostitute herself to provide for him, as well as for Mrs Liang who has used her cunning to convince Georgie to accept the deal. At first I couldn't believe that a sensible girl like Weilong would fall for such a piece of dirt as Georgie, but in fact Weilong goes into this crazy bargain with her eyes open. What she has realized is that for a committed but not stellar student such as her, it will be quite difficult to earn a living even after graduating. On the other hand, finding a husband both rich and to her taste is unlikely in Hong Kong society. In the end, she finds selling herself for the benefit of one she loves the lesser of two evils. The second story also revolves around an unsatisfactory marriage, this time between Roger, a teacher, and a young woman called Susie. This time Chang is looking mostly at the expat community rather than at the Chinese and mixed blood communities. From the beginning of the story Roger is nervous about the outcome of his choice of Susie as his wife, because Susie's sister, Millicent, was abused by her husband on her wedding night and quickly divorced him. The rumors of this scandal are still reverberating in the expat community of Hong Kong, and Roger doesn't quite know what impact this has had on Susie. He soon finds out as she, too, flees home on their wedding night. Belatedly, Roger is forced to realize that the girls from that family have had so little sexual education they see the slightest embrace as a prelude to murder. Although many people suspect the truth, and don't condemn Roger, his predicament is so awkward in the scandal-loving expat milieu that he has to resign his job, and eventually commits suicide. Both stories are quite absorbing and I was particularly struck by the translation, which is quite possibly the most foreignizing translation I've ever read. For some reason, while it can be said that Emmanuelle Péchenart goes out on a limb, the limb doesn't snap.
second read. changed to 4/5 becos when i started to read more carefully i found the descriptions really quite mesmerising
one of my favourites: Upon the translucent blue silk umbrella myriad raindrops twinkled like a skyful of stars that would follow them about later on the taxi’s glistening front window of crushed silver and, as the car ran through red and green lights, a nestful of read stars would fly humming outside the window and a nestful of green stars.
I an certain that the original chinese version would have been much more poetic and enjoyable to read
like 猪狗不如 was literally worse than pig and dog and 狼心狗肺 was literally wolf and dog lunged 💀
Non sono riuscita a leggerlo oltre le prime dieci pagine. Ho fatto fatica a star dietro ai personaggi (Prima Moglie, Prima Padrona e via così). La storia non è riuscita a prendermi e mi sono incastrata tra stanze e nomi di persona che indicavano i personaggi già nominati come Prima Sposa. Chiudo e passo oltre.
"The moon of thirty years ago has gone down long since and the people of thirty years ago are dead but the story of thirty years ago is not yet ended-can have no ending."
The Golden Cangue is a novella written by Eileen Chang in 1943. It revolves around the protagonist Qi Qiao and the degeneration of her family. Forced into a loveless marriage by her family, she endures the lowest status in her in-law family and sets out on a path of self-destruction that last for decades.
The Golden Cangue, an English translation of its original Chinese novella 金鎖記, is nothing short of a masterpiece by Eileen Chang. The story itself is simple and yet the vivid descriptive style of Chang's writing never fails to amaze me. The attention given to every single detail made me feel as though I was looking into one's forgotten past, a bystander witnessing the entire life of a fictional character. Qi Qiao is a complex figure - she manifests her own hatred and bitterness onto the lives of her own children, and yet I can't help but sympathize with her as well.
Th novella's title is derived from cangue, a device used for corporal punishment and public humiliation in the past. In the novella, Qi Qiao is trapped in the golden cangue of the wealthy Chiang household, and she in turn uses to golden cangue to destroy the lives of her own children, with the cangue symbolising her self-destruction and inability to escape from such a life.
Ero confusa dalla valutazione media di 3.9 per un capolavoro del genere, quindi sono andata a leggere le (poche) recensioni che ci sono. Alcune persone lamentano la difficoltà a districarsi con il sistema di parentela. Certamente non è una lettura facile per un lettore poco avvezzo alla dimensione cinese del clan familiare, che poi è soprattutto un codice di gerarchie. L'oggetto del testo è infatti la progressiva decadenza dei sistemi consolidati in duemila anni di impero cinese, messi in crisi dalla modernità e da nuove idee sociali e politiche. Qiqiao non è una "donna insopportabile", come ho letto in una recensione, ma una figura di natura tragica, consapevole che il proprio sistema di riferimento sta scomparendo, e che non c'è modo di ricostruirlo. Non è simpatica, ma se pretendiamo di leggere il romanzo in questi termini siamo fuori strada. Qiqiao è uno dei personaggi meglio costruiti di tutta la letteratura cinese e incarna il conflitto tra il vecchio e il nuovo, la resistenza al cambiamento culturale e la paura di perdere la propria identità. "La storia del giogo d'oro" è un libro immenso, punto. Leggetelo con l'attenzione che merita e non fatevi spaventare dal fatto che qualcuno non ha capito come collegare i personaggi.
Dieser Band versammelt fünf Erzählungen von Eileen Chang/Zhang Ailing, die sie zwischen 1940 und 1950 schrieb. Von der chinesischen Gesellschaft, hauptsächlich derer in Shanghai und Hongkong, zu dieser Zeit bekommt man im Laufe der Sammlung ein Bild, was das Leseerlebnis für mich interessant gemacht hat. Das goldene Joch und Der Weihrauchkessel waren für mich besonders bemerkenswert. In Das goldene Joch geht es um Familienverhältnisse und Heiratspolitik während mich im Weihrauchkessel die Thematik der Relevanz von Herkunft/Ethnie in der Gesellschaft Hongkongs fasziniert hat. Diese beiden Geschichten sind auch die, deren Handlung und Charakteren ich am liebsten folgte. Andere Erzählungen, vor allem Rote Rose, weiße Rose, las ich weniger gern. Zhangs Naturbeschreibungen und die Verwendung von Farben ("lauchgrün", "mondweiß"...) gefallen mir sehr. Aus dem Nachwort von Susanne Feckhorn konnte ich noch einiges mitnehmen und rückblickend Elemente der chinesischen Schreibtradition, wie die Einführung von adligen Hauptcharakteren durch Gespräche zwischen Bediensteten, erkennen. Insgesamt ein wechselhaftes, aber durchaus bereicherndes Leseerlebnis. Ich werde in Zukunft sicher noch mehr von Zhang lesen.
I have known this author for a long time, but it wasn't until recently that I really got to know her through her books. I have to say, her writing is truly amazing. The level of detail in her stories is incredible, and they have the ability to transport you to another world. As I read, I found myself completely absorbed in the story and the characters, and I felt as if I was an invisible participant in their lives. The emotions she evokes - whether it's the coldness of a winter's night, the pain of heartbreak, or the innocence of childhood - are so vivid and real.
Her stories are primarily about love, but they often delve into much deeper and more complex themes. The interplay between romance and the harsh realities of the world, such as poverty and inequality, makes for a powerful and thought-provoking read. At times, her stories are so emotionally charged that I found myself feeling deeply sad. However, I also know that the sadness I felt is just a testament to the impact her writing has had on me.
I would highly recommend this author to anyone who is looking for an immersive and thought-provoking reading experience. Her writing is truly something special, and I look forward to reading more of her work in the future. May be i prefer read her books again.
Seltsamerweise schreibt der Verlag im Klappentext, "Das goldene Joch" handele von einer Frau, die sich zwischen einer Zwangsehe und dem Leben als Konkubine entscheiden muss. Die Entscheidung aber ist bei Beginn der Geschichte längst gefallen, alle Erzählungen hier handeln von den Konsequenzen, oder davon, dass jemand Entscheidungen gar nicht fehlen durfte. Im Grunde beraubt sich die Autoren damit absichtlich eines wichtigen Plot-Elementes, der treibenden Frage, werden sie oder werden sie nicht. Beeindruckend, wie eine Schwimmerin, die sich einen Arm auf den Rücken bindet um es für sich selbst interessanter zu machen. Aber Eileen Chang würde sicherlich niemals einen so einfallslosen Vergleich verwenden, alle ihre Sprachbilder sind visuell, malerisch, haben mit Stoffen und Licht zu tun und sind überraschend, erhellend und anschaulich.
Chère Eileen Chang, comme j'aime son écriture et son intelligence et sa maturité pour son jeune âge quand elle a écrit ses nouvelles. Après avoir lu et aimé il y a quelques années "l' amour dans une ville déchue" et surtout la deuxième nouvelle de ce recueil : "Ha Hsiao est triste en automne" que j'ai relue récemment, j'ai enfin lu "Deux brûle-parfums". Encore deux excellentes nouvelles, très fines, très tristes aussi et que dire.... lisez Eileen Chang !
The Golden Cangue could have been a simple tale of the corruption of one soul and its fallout due to injustice, but Eileen Chang also lends depth to this deceptively slim volume through her epic scope, psychological realism, and unforgettable descriptions.
“le parole, in fondo, non servono. tenersi a lungo per mano, questa era una vera consolazione, perché sono poche le persone che sanno davvero parlare, e ancora meno sono quelle che hanno veramente qualcosa da dire.”
La mia scrittrice preferita per quanto riguarda la letteratura cinese del Novecento, lei e le sue storie meritano tantissimo!! Felice di averla scelta come argomento di tesi 🎀
it would be three stars if not for the wades-giles giving me a massive fucking headache.
edit: now that i’m reading the original, i can safely say that chang’s chinese writing far surpasses her english writing. i wasn’t entirely impressed with ‘the golden cangue’*, but 金锁记 is absolutely spectacular so far.
* perhaps because it feels overly foreignised? far be it from me to promote localisation as a translation approach, but the writing in ‘the golden cangue’ was extremely stilted and awkward in the way only a too-literal translation can feel. i can certainly see the 信 / faithfulness, but it lacks the 雅 / elegance and sometimes even the 达 / intelligibility.