I’m glad I read some more of this author at last. It took me forever though, one of the reasons being that the book has super tiny print. I quite liked some stories in this collection, some not so much.
“A Madman’s Diary” is first in the collection, but I read is as second, after “Kong Yiji”. It is an extremely depressing story of a man who is convince that all people around him are cannibals, waiting to devour him. He finds allusions and instructions pertaining to cannibalism everywhere, even in Confucian classics, and in the end recalls his sister who died when she was five, and he starts wondering whether his family, especially his brother who is now taking care if him, hadn’t fed him her meat as well, so that he himself is also, in fact, a cannibal, just like everyone. It is easy to see the allusions to contemporary society here; also cannibalism seems to be a recurring theme in Lu Xün’s writing.
“Kong Yiji” is a horribly sad and pessimistic story set in a fictional town of Luzhen, about a failed scholar who is supporting himself by writing letters and documents, and occasionally stealing. The story is narrated by a young servant in a tavern, where Kong Yiji comes to drink and be ridiculed by other patrons. There is virtually no ray of hope here, everyone is either cruel or ignorant, or both. Lu Xün was highly critical of Confucianism and of various traditional Chinese institutions – here he is laying into the old imperial examination system and, by extension, into the hypocrisy and cruelty of society. This is nothing new, of course – I was reminded of similar Russian stories, Chekhov’s especially (and Lu Xün did study and read Russian literature prior to writing Call to Arms) – but it is a good story, one of my favorites in this collection.
“Medicine” is another horribly pessimistic and cannibalistic one; it deals with an old folk superstition, according to which a steamed bun dipped in fresh human blood is a cure-all medicine. A father buys such a bun for a lot of money; it is supposed to cure his son who is ill with tuberculosis. The blood comes from a young revolutionary who has been executed in the morning. I didn't like this story as much; I thought it was a bit too simplistic and ideologically inclined. The thing I liked the most about it is a little piece of background info. The revolutionary's name, Xia 夏 ("summer") is an allusion to Qiu Jin, who was beheaded when she was only 31 years old, and who was a friend of Lu Xün's; her name, Qiu 秋, means "autumn". She was a poet and a feminist, and she studied in Japan, so I'm going to find out more about her.
“Tomorrow” and "An Incident". I liked the former, although it was, again, a horribly depressing one; it's about a poor, young widow, whose little son falls ill. No, I won't spoil it – but perhaps I already have?... (I liked the portrayal of a poor neighborhood, though – there was some brightness in it.) The latter one was barely a sketch; the narrator describes a rickshaw accident. There is a bit of optimism in this story; I guess Lu Xün had some hopes for the new China after the fall of the Qings.
“The Story of Hair” was not much of a story, it was more of a dull, didactic dialogue of two friends about the opposition of Chinese activists and reformers (who often fought by adopting nontraditional hairstyles) against various forms of tyranny, and about the way the sacrifices of are now forgotten. Lu Xün himself has once decided to cut off his queue (which was mandatory for Han Chinese under the Qings) during his stay in Japan, and he had problems because of that when he came back to China. Yeah well, "but it really happened" doesn't a good story make...
"A Storm in a Teacup" – it's a sort-of funny story about a boatman who has cut his queue after the fall of the Qing dynasty, and who, upon hearing the news of the restoration of Pu Yi to the throne, is afraid that he'd be executed. His family members are outright panicking. The writing itself is funny, but the situation is anything but.
"Hometown" – I loved this one. It's probably autobiographical, about a guy who returns briefly to his ancestral home before it is sold, and meets his childhood friend with whom he shares his most beautiful childhood memories, but who is poor and of a low social standing, and who now acts all scared and subservient. They succeed in overcoming their class differences (not without the help of the main character's mother) and having a brief, honest talk together, but then have to part again. Very touching and sad.
"The True Story of Ah Q" – wow. This is the most famous of Lu Xün's stories, and I can see why. It is very long, more a novella than a short story, and describes the life of the eponymous hero in a series of episodes. I purposely avoided learning anything about this story prior to reading it, but still I was able to tell almost straight away that it was meant as a huge general allegory of Chinese national character. It's full of anger and love at the same time; the main character is a thoroughly despicable person and yet my heart ached for him at the end. And I love how alive it is today, how certain elements and names from it are used in political satire and internet commentary.
"The Double Fifth Festival" – this was supposedly autobiographical, but the main character was, in my opinion, a caricature of an aloof, apolitical Chinese scholar rather than the compassionate intellectual from "Hometown". The story describes his troubles with the Republican government withdrawing payment to public officials, amongst them teachers; the main character does nothing, leaving actual protesting and finding money to his colleagues and his long-suffering wife. I must say that reading about his situation was a bit too close to home for me right now...
"The White Light" – it was a sad story about an old teacher from a once well-to-do family who has been trying, year after year, to pass government exams, and fails for the 16th time. When he returns home, he suddenly remembers an old family legend about a huge silver treasure which had been hidden somewhere by his ancestors – maybe on the premises, maybe somewhere else... No spoilers, but Lu Xün being the author, the story does not have a happy ending. (Apparently the main character Chen Shicheng was based on Lu Xün's uncle's tragic life story.)
"Some Rabbits and a Cat" – this was a simple story about a family of rabbits which the author's sister-in-law kept under the mulberry tree, and about the black cat who was suspected of murder by everyone, including the author. I read this with a lot of anticipation, and while there was no direct cruelty to animals described, I did not like the ending (frankly, I hope it was a joke).
"A Comedy of Ducks" – an extremely short, autobiographical story about a blind Russian poet Eroshenko's visit in Lu Xün's home in Beijing. Eroshenko loves animals and complains that unlike in other countries he's visited, he cannot hear any animals in Beijing at all. To make his friend happy, Lu Xün starts raising tadpoles in his lotus pond, and Eroshenko buys chicks for Lu Xün's sister in law. One day a lady selling ducklings comes to the house, Eroshenko can't resist the ducklings... This was a simple, cute story.
The last story – "A Village Opera". What can I say, I loved this story, it's one of my favorites, or maybe the favorite of this author. Before reading this, I'd had Lu Xün pegged as a total pessimist, but now I am not so sure. A Village Opera is autobiographical, like a few previous stories, but it deals with a childhood memory of watching a village opera from the boat with friends and then sailing back home during a summer night – a memory that is beautiful through and through, and is contrasted with the feeling of boredom and reluctance the grown-up narrator feels whenever his acquaintances try to make him watch Peking opera in the city. The descriptions of his enforced encounters with Peking opera actually made me laugh out loud.