Finally, a chance to read - a chance read - of this fine author I had a chance to hear here in Buffalo on the Big Stage. There was an astonishing turnout then, as though this one writers' series is all there is that might, reliably, turn out everyone of a certain intellectual rank. 'What if everyone were to have read the same book?' And "history is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake." Let's all read something different, how about? And compare notes.Ha Jin's is clearly a superior intellect, and his reasons for writing in his non-native English were, well, brilliant to the point of (my) wanting to cheer out loud. I have a vague memory that some brave souls might have done just that. The perpetual alien these well-credentialed scholars wanted to style themselves, I suppose.But this English-language book is not written in English exactly. It's written in Chinese and then by translation - prior to the page I guess - rendered into English. I love looking up those unfamiliar words for familiar things which must have gotten there onto this page by having themselves been looked up by someone who can't possibly have mastered quite enough of English contexts.Words like "gluteal fold" where you'd have to reach for a nice juicy metaphor in English, and know that there is no particular there there, below the it that is it. Then there's this pivotal passage: "Not until now did he realize that he had been putting on a show. Somehow he had lost himself altogether in the performance and had unconsciously entered into the realm of self-oblivion -- a complete union with a character or an object, which he realized was the ideal state of artistic achievement, dwelled upon by many ancient masters throughout the history of Chinese arts." (pp. 153 in the paperback)Of course, this is pure nonsense. Chinese artists of the true and sanctioned variety could only strive for mastery of true readings of what is, in fact, in front of them. Actors, imitators, as in the West, are lowlier manifestations of the artistic bent. Unschooled, as is our protagonist here, Shao Bin, they strive for what they cannot know. Putting on a show would be rather, well, picaresque for actual Chinese scholars. Fiction is a Western fetish. Artistic creation is meant to better nature. Where?We don't know where our author stands, between two worlds. Is his mimetic art or is it the calligraphic poesis of brushstrokes to open the world to our reading. Is nature bettered in the mind or in reality (ask all the latest films and novels and, um, well, look around you)? Ha Jin may be making fun.He stands, Ha Jin, at an historic crossroads. He writes about ordinary Chinese striving for justice - for a narrative of justice - in a world of petty privilege exercised without constraint beyond what the literate might dare to make in a complaint out loud. There are no legal codes.Ha Jin delineates an illiterate nightmare in the place of a once great civilization. He might as well be describing U.S. I look forward to his further development, happily already accomplished for my belated reading. Anyhow, this is a nice start.
This short novella centers around Shao Bin, a Chinese man working at fertilizer plant, and his struggle to obtain a decent apartment for his young family. Continually passed over by the plant’s corrupt leaders, Bin decides to fight back against his communist superiors using his talent with calligraphy. Conflict espouses when Bin’s struggle is met with counterattacks and more opposition than he could never have imagined.As the title suggests, the story involves a series of metaphorical ponds where the main character is either a large fish in a small pond or a small fish in a large pond. The former is a perceived state on the part of Shao Bin as he considers himself to be an intellectual amongst corrupt idiots; the later is an actual state as the commune leaders trodden down on their employee and disparage his character and his calligraphy.Shao attempts to change his circumstances and move to art school where he will inevitably become a small fish in a large pond, but the company leaders thwart him at every turn without punishment from the communist leaders displaying how large a pond the Chinese bureaucracy actually is and how small the comrades are to their leaders.Ha creates a satirical examination of communism in China during the 1970s with writing that flows easily. Shao’s frustrations are understandable and easy to empathize with, and the narrative never looses sight of its purpose. The simplicity of both the narrative and the writing, however, means the book never manages to elevate itself above anything but a description as breezy, easy read.
What do You think about In The Pond (2002)?
What I saw in the short stories of The Bridegroom - the absurdity, the humor, the excavation of certain political realities - is all here in In the Pond, but more so. The book is essentially one long political skirmish between a calligrapher and his factory bosses. You'd like to think that what Jin presents here is particular to the Chinese reality, but I don't think it is. Most of what we read seems to be fairly universal: people in power have the resources to abuse that power and to suppress (or placate) those who want to shed light on that abuse.
—Nathan Marone
This novel written by Ha Jin also changes things around because it is based upon a poor peasants point of view. This novel shows the challenges which one man faces alone, which in this case is Shao Bin the protagonist of this novel.Shao Bin works in a factory and wasn't give proper housing. He needed housing for his family since their apartment is run down and didn't allow them to survive. He criticize the commune leaders of the factory and use his artisitics and writing skills to draw out the e
—Cynthia
Earlier this month, I had my first taste of Ha Jin's writings and enjoyed his essay on Georgia which appeared in Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey's State by State. The same, understated, modest tone can be found in this super book, only slightly longer than a novella - a tale of infighting and bureaucracy in the People's Republic of a few years' ago - China, not South Yorkshire that is.The book's hero, Shao Bin is a talented artist treading water in a dull factory job and on one level, Ha's book could be seen as a passionate defence of artistic endeavour in the teeth of the mundane. However, Shao is something of a hothead and continually pushes his animosity too far - we feel less and less sympathy as the book progresses as he continually fails to heed that age old advice, 'LEAVE IT!"
—Rob
