Six Lives in Search of a Character: The 2009 Newman Prize Lecture

Abstract

Six Lives in Search of a Character fl^w ^ The 2009Newman Prize Lecture ^X^mB Mo Yan It seems ironic to ask someone called "Mo Yan" to speak in frontof so many people. Thirty years ago, when a man with the name "Guan Moye" took a character from his given name, Mo, split it into two characters, and changed it intoMo Yan, he did not fully realize the implications of this rebellious act of changing both family and given names. Back thenhe was thinking thathe should have a pen name, since allmajor writers had one. As he stared at thenew name that meant "don't talk," he was reminded of his mother's admonition fromway back. At that time,people inChina were living in an unusual political climate; political struggles came in waves, one more severe than the one before, and people in general lost theirsense of security.There was no loyaltyor trustamong people; therewas only deception and watchfulness. Under those social conditions,many people got into troublebecause of things they said; a single carelessly uttered word could bring disaster to one's lifeand repu tation as well as ruination to one's family.But at a time like this, Mo Yan, or Guan Moye, was a talkative child with a good memory, an impres sive ability toarticulate, and,worst of all, a strong desire to express his views in public. Whenever he felt like showing offhis eloquence, his mother would remind him, "Don't talk toomuch." But as thesaying goes, it'seasier fora dynasty torise and fall than for a man to change his nature. As soon as he was away fromhis mother's watehful eye, out came a torrent of words. In Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out, the novel that won theNewman Prize, there is aMo Yan who spews incessant nonsense and incurs everyone's displeasure. Though I cannot say that this Mo Yan is the realMo Yan, he isn't faroff. Literature comes from life.This is, tobe sure, an apt description, a sort of eternal truth.But lifeencompasses boundless experience, and all a writer can use is a sliver of his personal life. If a writer wants to continue to write, he must strive to expand his lifeexperience and fight thedesire to pursue wealth and leisure. Instead, he must search forsuffering, which is the salvation of an established writer, even though in thepursuit of sufferingone can stumble upon happiness. There fore,thegreatestwealth of awriter is thesuffering he happens upon inhis search forhappiness. This, of course, is purely coincidental, not something thatcan be planned. So I believe that, in addition to talent and hard work, fate is indispensible to one's literary success. A writer can produce many works in his lifetime,but only one or perhaps a fewwill be remembered by his readers. As of now, I've writ ten tennovels and nearly a hundred novellas and short stories. I cannot say for sure which one, or ones, might pass the testof time and continue to be read. The jury, in a way, made that judgment forme when they awarded theNewman Prize to Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out. So if two ofmy novels will be read by latergenerations, I believe thatLifeandDeath AreWearingMe Out will be one of them,partly because itwon theprize, but especially because itbrings intoplay some of themost important experiences ofmy life. I have said elsewhere that thenovel was written in the short span of forty-three days, but it took forty threeyears togerminate and develop. In theearly 1960s,Guan Moye was still in elementary school. Every morning during the calisthenics broadcast aftersecond period, hewould see an independent farmer with the surname Lan pushing a cartwith wooden wheels, something that was no longer in use even then. Itwas pulled by a gimpy donkey accompanied by Lan's wife, awoman with bound feet. The wooden wheels grated shrilly against the dirt path by the school, leaving deep tracks. Guan Moye remembered all this.Back then, like all the other kids, Guan Moye feltnothing but disgust and disdain for this stubborn farmer who had insistedupon working independently instead of joining the commune, and even joined them in the evil act of pelting...