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On the Smell of an Oily Rag: Speaking English, thinking Chinese and living Australian
Ouyang Yu gives his unique insight into Chinese and Western language and cultures, and makes us reflect on our own habits of thought from new angles.
On the Smell of an Oily Rag draws examples from low and high culture and from the everyday and the literary life. Indeed, Ouyang Yu shows that they are closer together than we usually think.
Scholarly and scatological, this cornucopia of fun and wisdom is a breathtaking picture of speech, thought and images from the world's richest and oldest culture.
On the Smell of an Oily Rag gives an insight like no other into how English-language and Chinese-language cultures collide, contrast and illuminate each other. It's about what is lost in translation and what can be gained by it.
On the Smell of an Oily Rag draws examples from low and high culture and from the everyday and the literary life. Indeed, Ouyang Yu shows that they are closer together than we usually think.
Scholarly and scatological, this cornucopia of fun and wisdom is a breathtaking picture of speech, thought and images from the world's richest and oldest culture.
On the Smell of an Oily Rag gives an insight like no other into how English-language and Chinese-language cultures collide, contrast and illuminate each other. It's about what is lost in translation and what can be gained by it.
205 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
About the author
Ouyang Yu
41 books9 followersOuyang Yu is a poet based in Melbourne and since his first arrival in April 1991 in Australia, he has published quite a few poems. His eighth novel, All the Rivers Run South, is forthcoming with Puncher & Wattmann in 2023.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
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February 15, 2010The game of translation is a tricky one, and not just in terms of translation from one language to another. The creation of meaning is a writer’s game. It’s a subtle negotiation between texts, where the meaning of intent begins to approximate the meaning of perception. Translating from the writers’ idea to the reader’s experience takes every tool in a writers’ arsenal. Ouyang Yu is a poet who works the gap between languages, looking closely at our linguistic assumptions, etymologies, and correspondences. His latest book is a nonfiction created in a pen-notes style (biji xiashuo) inspired by ancient Chinese fiction.
On the Smell of An Oily Rag contains a series of brief essays on a single topic that pivot around the relationships between the Chinese and English language. The pieces explore the variations and context of linguistic expressions, delving into the relationship between usage, meaning, and relationships. The style is casual and accessible – designed to appeal to a non-academic reader, and the subject matter is broad – ranging from the sizes of things to the notion of spontaneity; from having an affair to the role of the poet:
"Wang Xizhuang’s definition of a poet is interesting. He thinks that a poet is not necessarily someone who can write poems but someone who can maintain a detached state of mind and be gentle and cultivated even if he doesn’t read or write a single word." (101)
The simplicity and directness of the writing is underpinned by extensive scholarship, and the work is both informative and inspiring. Beyond the linguistic elements that Ouyang Yu explores are experiences like migration, exile, loving, eating, friendship, and even going to the bathroom. At times the essays are meandering, allowing the concept to flow where it will, moving past anecdote into historical analysis into personal observation. As is often the case in Ouyang Yu’s work, no punches are pulled (and I suspect that there’s a similar Chinese expression):
"Literary prizes are a bore. It’s all about fame and money. And the way it makes a person change makes me sick. I make it a rule that I shall never read anything that has won a prize. I only read what I like. You don’t eat a fish because it has won a prize, do you? (110)"
There’s anger here – both political and personal, but there’s also humour. Much of the book is funny, even ribald, taking the analysis into all sorts of arenas – mostly the idiomatic:
"Once a writer or poet produced something very good, even if it was a book or a single poem, he or she would “eat it” for the rest of his or her life. (166)"
On the Smell of An Oily Rag is a charming, thought provoking, and, at times, confronting book. For anyone working between English and Chinese languages, it’s a must. But anyone who is interested in translation, or who simply likes exploring words and looking for new ways of saying things or experiencing the world will enjoy it.
On the Smell of An Oily Rag contains a series of brief essays on a single topic that pivot around the relationships between the Chinese and English language. The pieces explore the variations and context of linguistic expressions, delving into the relationship between usage, meaning, and relationships. The style is casual and accessible – designed to appeal to a non-academic reader, and the subject matter is broad – ranging from the sizes of things to the notion of spontaneity; from having an affair to the role of the poet:
"Wang Xizhuang’s definition of a poet is interesting. He thinks that a poet is not necessarily someone who can write poems but someone who can maintain a detached state of mind and be gentle and cultivated even if he doesn’t read or write a single word." (101)
The simplicity and directness of the writing is underpinned by extensive scholarship, and the work is both informative and inspiring. Beyond the linguistic elements that Ouyang Yu explores are experiences like migration, exile, loving, eating, friendship, and even going to the bathroom. At times the essays are meandering, allowing the concept to flow where it will, moving past anecdote into historical analysis into personal observation. As is often the case in Ouyang Yu’s work, no punches are pulled (and I suspect that there’s a similar Chinese expression):
"Literary prizes are a bore. It’s all about fame and money. And the way it makes a person change makes me sick. I make it a rule that I shall never read anything that has won a prize. I only read what I like. You don’t eat a fish because it has won a prize, do you? (110)"
There’s anger here – both political and personal, but there’s also humour. Much of the book is funny, even ribald, taking the analysis into all sorts of arenas – mostly the idiomatic:
"Once a writer or poet produced something very good, even if it was a book or a single poem, he or she would “eat it” for the rest of his or her life. (166)"
On the Smell of An Oily Rag is a charming, thought provoking, and, at times, confronting book. For anyone working between English and Chinese languages, it’s a must. But anyone who is interested in translation, or who simply likes exploring words and looking for new ways of saying things or experiencing the world will enjoy it.
November 29, 2019
A series of musings, some that are more effective than others.
May 4, 2015
This book represents a genre that Yu Ouyang has dubbed pen-notes non-fiction (biji feixiaoshuo). It's basically a collection of his loosely-associated thoughts.
I almost quit reading after the first few chapters -- What the heck kind of writing style is this, and why does he refer to porn so often? -- but I eventually adjusted. His poetic descriptions provided insights into both Chinese and Australian ways of thinking, and he's got quite a good sense of humor.
I almost quit reading after the first few chapters -- What the heck kind of writing style is this, and why does he refer to porn so often? -- but I eventually adjusted. His poetic descriptions provided insights into both Chinese and Australian ways of thinking, and he's got quite a good sense of humor.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews