Liu was born in Changchun, Jilin, in 1955 to an intellectual family. In 1977, Liu was admitted to the Department of Chinese Literature at Jilin University, where he created a poetry group known as "The Babies' Hearts" (Chi Zi Xin) with six schoolmates. He graduated with a B.A. in 1982, went on to study for an M.A. and a PhD degree from Beijing Normal University. He became a teacher, literary critic, writer, professor, and human rights activist who called for political reforms which led to his imprisonment in the people's republic of China. In 2010 he received Nobel Peace Prize. (Note: It is correct to give his name as "Liu Xiaobo", as this is the proper Chinese name sequence. However, Liu is the family name and Xiaobo the given name. As Goodreads always assumes the family name to be the one after the last space character, the sequence should be turned to "Xiaobo Liu" to make sure the name is parsed and sorted correctly by Goodreads.)
中國 - 爲它做任何事都是徒勞的。假如沒有辦法反抗,至少做到個人的民主:首先要Living in the truth, 不説謊 – 以反對共產黨的“謊言即真實”。其次是説話辦事的透明:中國人的致命弱點就是不透明。最後不再使用共產黨的語言體系。如同納粹對德語造成的污染,大陸中文經過七十年的荼毒已經不可避免地意識形態化。有什麽樣的語言就有什麽樣的思維,有什麽樣的思維就會有什麽樣的生存方式。中國人一生浸淫在這種語言體系裏面,生活方式怎麽可能不獨裁呢?
Titled "Monologues of a Doomsday Survivor" in Chinese, this is a participant's memoir of the 1989 mass protests leading up to the Tiananmen Massacre by Liu Xiaobo, laureate of the Nobel Peace Prize in 2010.
In my life I happened to meet the author once, in 2008, a year before his re-imprisonment and two years before he won the Prize. Liu wasn't charismatic. He talked like a book with a slight stutter. And for all his eloquence in writing political commentary his articles never impressed me as very original. So I was quite unprepared when I decided to read this 1992 memoir and immediately found it extremely candid, vivid and well written. His paints a many-faceted, seriously flawed self-portrait as well as unforgettable illustrations of some of the movement leaders, especially Wu'er Kaixi. Liu said he was both attracted to and appalled by Wu'er Kaixi's arrogant audacity, though alarmed by his naiveté. I think he understood WK so well because in some ways they mirrored each other in dreaming big and failing short of it—plagued by megalomania. But there was something noble in Liu's naked honesty which WK lacks to this day.
I read this book in one sitting, speeding through the part of the massacre and Liu's few days of hiding out before his arrest. It felt as suspenseful as a detective tale toward the end, without losing any sense of authenticity.