Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather

by Gao Xingjian, Mabel Lee (Translator)

Novelist, playwright, essayist, and short-story writer Gao Xingjian is that rare breed of artist able to express himself with equal grace in almost any form of literature. In 2000 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in recognition of his astonishing talents. The collection Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather offers this author's own selection and arrangement of his shorter fiction.

Written between 1983 and 1990, these beautifully translated stories take as their themes the fragility of love and life, and the haunting power of memory. In "The Temple" the narrator's acute and mysterious anxiety overshadows the "delirious happiness" of an outing with his new wife on their honeymoon. In "The Cramp" a man narrowly escapes drowning in the sea, only to find that no one even noticed his absence. In "The Accident" a bus hits a cyclist and, as in stop-action film, the chaotic aftermath gives way to a calm, ordinary street corner with no trace of the previous drama. In the title story the narrator attempts to "unburden myself of homesickness" only to find himself lost in a labyrinth of childhood memories. Everywhere in this collection are powerful psychological portraits of characters whose unarticulated hopes and fears betray the never-ending presence of the past in their present lives.

Gao Xingjian has shown a mastery of the epic form in his novels Soul Mountain and One Man's Bible. In Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather, he brings the same passion and precision to the short story.

Genres: Short Stories, China, Fiction, Nobel Prize, Asia, Chinese Literature, Literature

127 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1989

About the author

Gao Xingjian is a Chinese-born novelist, playwright, critic, and painter. An émigré to France since 1987, Gao was granted French citizenship in 1997. The recipient of the 2000 Nobel Prize in Literature, he is also a noted translator (particularly of Samuel Beckett and Eugène Ionesco), screenwriter, stage director, and a celebrated painter.

Reviews

[Orsodimondo · Rating 2 out of 5]

IL CRAMPO



Il crampo è il titolo di uno di questi sei racconti, ed è quello che devo avere avuto se ho abbandonato la lettura, per altro mai stimolante, men che meno avvincente, se l’ho abbandonata all’inizio dell’ultimo racconto, quando ormai il più era fatto.
Evidentemente anche il mio senso del dovere, o quello della completezza, ha limiti.

Confermando purtroppo la mia scarsa reattività e attrazione per la letteratura (e il cinema) che viene dall’Asia meno vicina.
Il tentativo l’ho fatto, stimolato anche dal fatto che nel 2000 Gao Xíngjiàn ha vinto il Nobel per la Letteratura, ci ho provato. Ma ho fallito.

Una scrittura quasi in forma di ideogramma è la sintesi critica più geniale che abbia letto.
Geniale nel senso che fa sbellicare.

[Luís · Rating 2 out of 5]

Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather is a collection of six short stories. Reading novels from an author that you don't know is always perilous. Here it was. The first short story recounts the memories of a man on his honeymoon, which was not very exciting. The second is the story of a guy who has a cramp when he bathes, and then I wondered what it was. This question remained until the end of the collection, especially for the last story. I finished reading with pleasure. It is a reading that will not go down in the annals.

[Flo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Xingjian Gao is writing stories where words, events, feelings, and interests are "equal". This experimental, minimalist format may not result in the most satisfying reading experience, but it is the most thought-provoking way to tell narratives from communist China. The limitations of the regime are shown, but maybe they don't get to be the stories.

[Sidharth Vardhan · Rating 3 out of 5]

The stories do not have such old-school things like plot or characters. Instead they are write ups written with intention of exciting emotions in readers (or so says the translator's note). I normally like that sort of writing but most of these stories didn't work for me. Keeping with Goodreads tradation, I'm gonna blame the translation. The third star is entirely for titular story which was the only one that worked for me.

[Daren · Rating 2 out of 5]

Gao Xingjian is a Nobel Prize (for literature) winner, and for that reason I perhaps expected more from this short story collection. This collection of six stories is selected from his book of seventeen short stories of the same name, and was published in English in 2004.
Most of the stories were written from 1983 to 1996 and published in literary magazines.

The translators note at the rear of the book contains the following statement:

While still in Beijing Gao wrote a brief postscript for this seventeen story collection... in which he warns readers that his fiction does not set out to tell a story. There is no plot, as found in most fiction, and anything of interest to be found in it is inherent in the language itself. More explicit is the proposal that the linguistic art of fiction is "the actualization of language and not the imitation of reality in writing," and that its power to fascinate lies in the fact that, even while employing language, it is able to evoke authentic feelings in the reader."

There is nothing in that statement I can disagree with, mostly because it washes over me without impact, and all I can confirm of it, is that for many of these stories, there indeed is no plot.

Unfortunately for a low-brow reader like me that is a bit of a show-stopper.

Not for me, and now I am rather put off reading his other two books I own. I am prepared to offer a bulk deal on all three books if anyone is interested?

Sorry, two stars. **

[Ali Khosravi · Rating 3 out of 5]

چهار داستان اول بسیار ساده و معمولی بودند، قدم زدن یک زوج در شهری کوچک، تصادف اتوبوس در خیابان، گفتگوی دو دوست قدیمی در پارک و شنا در دریا و توصیف ساحل. طوری که حوصله ام سر رفت. اما داستان خرید قلاب ماهیگیری برای پدر بزرگ که بسیار وهم انگیز و زیبا بود نظرم رو نسبت به نویسنده عوض کرد. داستان آخر شبیه هیچ داستانی نبود که تا ابه حال خوندم انگار یکی از موزیک ویدئوهای پینک فلوید رو دارم تماشا می کنم. تکه هایی از اتفاقات مختلف گاه رویاگونه که خط داستانی ندارد و ظاهرا ارتبطی به هم ندارند، برای نمونه : "مرد عریان که فقط کراوات چرم باریکی دور گردنش بسته بود و با یک دست کلاه سیاه وبا دست دیگرش عینک آفتابی را از صورتش بر می دارد..." !

[Rob Baker · Rating 1 out of 5]

In her notes at the end of this story collection, the translator says that Gao "warns readers that his fiction does not set out to tell a story" (124). True that. The pieces are sometimes ("Temple", "In the Park", "Cramp") slice-of-life moments of people seemingly seeking unfindable happiness; other times ("In an Instant) they are dream-like collections of disconnected images.

This author won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2000, and I have to think -- at least based on this book and the bit I've read about him--that it's more because of his political background than because of his writing per se.

[Lilly · Rating 5 out of 5]

With all due respect, I could not disagree more with all the negative reviews of this book.
The shortstories deal - metaphorically - with life’s deepest pains. The stories appear - at cursory glance - mundane, but are complex and emotional.

[Jean Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

At the very end of the book, there is a translator’s note quoting the author, in which the former clearly states that his fiction does not aim to tell a story or follow a plot. With that being said, some caution should be taken into grabbing this book seeing as so many people seem to just want a regular bedtime story in the same way that keeps repeating itself time and time again with a vast majority of books. One of contemporary literature’s most enduring challenges is to break away from the norm, and this book helps in doing just that. The stories in Gao Xingjian’s Buying a Fishing Rod for my Grandfather can be classified as very experimental but also inherent of emotion from the author, true writing that comes from the heart and not just to please an audience, but still able to instill that feeling of nostalgia and curiosity that any good story must be able to convey. Not every one of these stories is perfect, still they all serve the purpose of exploration through experimentation.

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a beautifully written collection of short stories that reflect both the day to day and the utterly magical and enlightening moments in life from the discovery of a secluded temple to near death experiences and moments of utter devastation. These snippets of time, experiences and reminiscences show the pleasure that can be found anywhere and the appreciation for the little things that can be discovered in the simpliest, rawest and most humbling moments. This is a surprisingly enjoyable collection of simple life stories yet the lack of purpose to each left me feeling a little flat with a distinct unsatisfied feeling and wanting to know more. This is deliberate on behalf of Xingjian who wrote these not to tell a story but to provide interest through his use of language and the 'imitation of reality'. In this he certainly does succeed.

[Jim · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gao Xingjian is another one of those Nobel Prize winners who, when the announcement came, we all went, “Eh?” And I do know that’s part of the point, to bring to the world’s attention a writer who’s not as well-known as he or she might be. I decided to read him on two counts: 1) he’d been awarded the Nobel Prize (in 2000 to save you checking) and 2) he was Chinese and I couldn’t remember reading anything else by a Chinese author.

Gao himself selected the six stories of this English-language version of Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather. According to the translator “it is his view that these stories are best able to represent what he is striving to achieve in his fiction.” In the Chinese original there were seventeen stories. Five come from this book; the sixth, ‘In an Instant’ was written in Paris in 1990 where he’s lived since 1987. So you can probably look upon this book as a sampler.

I came to this with no preconceptions—I didn’t know if these were going to be contemporary stories or have a period setting—but I was pleased to find them all set in present day China (or at least China as it was in the eighties) although there is some looking back to, as the narrator of the first story, ‘The Temple’, puts it, “those catastrophic years in this country, our families suffered through many misfortunes, and to some extent we still resented our generation’s fate.” This theme is also present in two other stories, ‘In the Park’ and the title story.

I say ‘stories’ but these are not, as I expected (so I must’ve had some preconceptions), but vignettes, slices of life. The translator explains:

There is no plot, as found in most fiction, and anything of interest to be found in it is inherent in the language itself. More explicit is his proposal that the linguistic art of fiction is “the actualization of language and not the imitation of reality in writing,” and that its power to fascinate lies in the fact that, even while employing language, it is able to evoke authentic feelings in the reader.

Just as well I’m not a fan of traditional stories then.

In ‘The Temple’ a young couple go on honeymoon. Basically they get on a train and see where it takes them. They’re city folk but they have been to the countryside before:

It all felt so different from the time when we were graduates sent to work in the countryside. Now we were just visitors passing through, tourists, and the complicated relationships between the people here had nothing to do with us. Inevitably, this made us city dwellers feel somewhat superior. Fangfang clutched my arm tightly and I leaned close to her, and we could sense people’s eyes on us. But we didn’t belong to this town; we were from another world. We walked right past them, but they didn’t gossip about us; they only gossiped about the people they knew.

Not much happens. They’re looking for sights to see but the only thing locally is a building known as “the big temple” although in reality it’s not very big but then everything’s relative. There they have an exchange with a local man who’s taken the child of his paternal cousin with him looking for grasshoppers; the boy wants to collect five. They share some melons—I suppose they must’ve been smaller melons than I’m used to—and a bit of cake but the conversation never really gets off the ground and the man leaves. And that’s it. Only that can’t be it. There’s clearly stuff going on in between the lines that I wasn’t prepared for.

‘In the Park’ is a good story to follow ‘The Temple’ and arguably the best in the book. Again we have a couple but this time it’s a couple who didn’t get together and who’ve met years later but struggle to connect and their conversation—the story is written almost completely in dialogue with no speech tags—keeps going down cul-de-sacs: “Let’s talk about something else.” While they’re sitting there trying to find common ground they notice a girl waiting, presumably for her beau, and this provides them with a topic they can discuss but it also leads them into dangerous waters and the reunion doesn’t end up going as well as I expect either had hoped it will. This was a much better piece and one I found I could relate to. It was a story that could’ve happened in any park across the globe.

In ‘Cramp’ a man has swum out further than was wise and, gets cramp and, as the sun begins to set is in real danger of drowning:

White-crested waves on the ink green sea. The surging waves surround him, but no fishing boats are at work. Turning his body, he is borne up by the waves. Up ahead on the grey-black sea is a dark spot, far in the distance. He drops down between the waves and can no longer see the surface of the sea. The sloping sea is black and shiny, smoother than satin. The cramp in his stomach gets worse. Lying on his back and floating on the water, he massages the hard spot on his abdomen until it hurts less. Diagonally in front, above his head, is a feathery cloud; up there, the wind must be even stronger.

And then things go from bad to worse and he encounters the jellyfish. Simple and effective. Will he survive? And, again, one that could happen in any ocean across the globe.

‘The Accident’ documents what happens when—and, more importantly, after—a bus hits a cyclist:

A bicycle fitted with an extra wheel for a baby-buggy with a red-and-blue checkered cloth shade is crossing diagonally from the other side of the road, and a man is riding it. Coming from the opposite direction is a two-carriage electric trolley bus that is going quite fast, but not too fast.

Most of this story consists of comments from the crowd. They’re not assigned to anyone in particular but it doesn’t matter. Much is revealed about contemporary Chinese attitudes by how they respond to this accident, those who witness it and then those who come across the scene afterwards and aren’t sure what’s happened:

“What happened? Was there an accident? Was someone killed?”
“It was father and son, one of them is dead.”
“Which of them died?”
“The old man!”
“What about the son?”
“Unhurt.”
“That’s shocking! Why didn’t he pull his father out of the way?”
“It was the father who had pushed his son out of the way!”
“Each generation is getting worse, the man was wasting his time bringing up the son!”
“If you don’t know what happened, then don’t crap on.”
“Who’s crapping on?”

In the title story, a man sees a fiberglass fishing rod in a store window and is reminded of the times he went fishing and hunting with his grandfather. At first this felt like it was going to be a straightforward story: man sees rod, gets nostalgic, buys the rod and presents it to his grandfather. And that is what appears to be happening only when he gets to his hometown everything’s changed:

I find an older man and ask him where the lake used to be. If I know where the lake was, it will be easy to find the stone bridge, and when I find the stone bridge, it will be easy to find Nanhu Road, and when I find Nanhu Road, I’ll be able to feel the way to my old home.

The lake? Which lake? The lake that was filled in. Oh, that lake, the lake that was filled in is right here. He points with his foot. This used to be the lake. So we’re standing on the bottom. Was there once a stone bridge nearby? Can’t you see that there are asphalt roads everywhere?

And then the next thing you know we’re in the middle of watching a football match—the 1986 World Cup final in Mexico City (Argentina vs. West Germany)—and I thought, What the heck? In her review in The Guardian Julia Lovell has this to say about this story:

‘Buying a Fishing Rod for my Grandfather’, is intriguingly framed as a self-delusory nostalgia trip, but collapses into Gao's ponderous version of western modernism-by-numbers: surreal juxtapositions of time and place, stream of consciousness, a fragmented narrative voice locked into tediously self-analytical conversation with itself.

Actually once you get to the end of the story you do realise what’s been happening here and it all starts to make more sense but it will throw you.

Worse is the final piece, ‘In an Instant’, which “traces the lives of three people on a typical day.” That’s how the entry in Wikipedia puts it. I lost interest about halfway through. Lovell calls it “a formal experiment in simultaneity that runs through a checklist of modernist devices—narrative cuts and leaps, bizarre images, Beckettian clowns—as mechanically as an English undergraduate's revision primer.”

So, as you might expect with a sampler, it’s a mixed bag. The “good” depends on a subtle use of language and is impressive but even the “bad” has its moments:

Seagulls are circling in the sky, screeching noisily. Whether they have to screech like this to look for food or if it’s out of sheer joy isn’t clear, because they use a language not understood by humans. However, understanding or not is unimportant, what is important is that in the blue sky on this island they can soar as they will and can call out noisily.

I think I’ll think twice before looking out one of his novels though.

[Dion Yulianto · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rasa penasaran setelah membaca cerpen Gao Xingjian dalam kumcer Dijual Keajaiban yang rasanya ‘kok gitu aja?’ maka terbitnya buku ini tentu saja adalah sebuah kabar gembira. Karya lain penulis ini, novel Gunung Jiwa juga sudah susah banget nyarinya. Banyak pembaca baru macam kita-kita ini akhirnya bingung saat hendak mencicipi rasa dalam karya si penulis peraih Nobel yang memilih eksil ke Prancis ini. Apa yang khas dari karya-karyanya? Apakah senada dengan Mo Yan, ataukah ada rasa asli lain yang khas dari penulis asal Tiongkok ini?

Membaca cerpen-cerpen di buku ini, kita seperti diajak menanjak menuju ke sebuah puncak gunung. Awalnya lumayan mudah dan dengan pemandangan yang indah. Etape kedua sudah agak menanjak. Bagian selanjutnya lumayan menanjak, dan bergitu berturut-turut hingga menanjaknya ekstrem banget sampai ngos-ngosan bacanya. Dua cerpen terakhir adalah yang paling menguras pikiran, mana panjang pula itu dua cerpen ck ck ck. Akhirnya, setelah menamatkan membaca seluruh cerpen di buku ini (dengan dua cerpen yang sedemikian sulit diikuti di bagian akhir), pembaca akan mengetahui jawaban tentang mengapa buku ini begini. Buku ini menjadi contoh sekaligus bukti bahwa evolusi dalam penulisan fiksi ternyata masih belum selesai.

Cerpen-cerpen di buku ini mengisahkan tentang hal-hal yang biasa-biasa saja. Ingatan atau memori tampaknya menjadi jiwa (kalau bukan menghantui) buku ini. Tentang anak yang membelikan pancing untuk kakeknya, tentang kecelakaan yang menimpa seorang pria, dan tentang pria muda yang membaca bukunya di pantai dan lalu entah kenapa sampai ke mana-mana. Secara tema, kesederhanaan cerpen-cerpen ini mengingatkan saya pada cerpennya Kawabata, hanya saja lebih panjang dan sedikit lebih agak kompleks. Yang bikin terkejut dari cerpen-cerpen di buku ini adalah cara penulis bernarasi. Bayangkan ketika sedang hanyut dalam paragraf ketiga, pembaca tiba-tiba disuguhi cerita baru di paragraf keempat, lalu ceritanya ganti lagi di paragraf ke enam. Begitu seterusnya sampai cerita ditutup dengan penggalan dari cerita di paragraf pertama. Dan campur-aduk cerita ini terjadi dalam satu cerpen, di mana satu paragraf dengan paragraf lain sepertinya tidak secara langsung terkait tapi memang terkait. Bingung kan? Iya, saya sudah bingung sejak lima hari lalu, tapi saya ampet saja sendiri.

Untungnya, penulis berbaik hati dengan memberikan bonus tulisan tentang menulis di bab paling akhir buku ini. Walau masih lumayan berat, Gao Xingjian memaparkan teknik menulisnya yang sepertinya acak-acakan tetapi sebenarnya tidak. Ia menyebut teknik menulis paragraf yang tidak saling bersambung ini sebagai hal yang sah-sah saja dilakukan seorang penulis atas nama kreativitas. Apa yang dilakukan Gao ini mungkin boleh-boleh saja, tetapi apakah tekniknya ini akan bisa diterima oleh pembaca, ceritanya lain lagi. Yang jelas, setelah membaca pemaparan di bab terakhir ini, saya ingin membaca ulang cerpen-cerpen di buku ini, terutama dua cerpen paling akhir yang bikin senewen itu.

Pengarang yang berhasil, salah satunya, adalah pengarang yang bisa memaksa pembaca untuk membaca ulang karyanya lagi dan lagi. Saya ingin membaca ulang kumcer-kumcer di buku setelah mendapatkan amunisi dari bab terakhir di buku ini. Bukan karena suka sih, lebih karena penasaran. Siapa tahu, setelah membaca kumcer ini untuk kedua kalinya, bintangnya naik jadi empat. Pembaca boleh dong berevolusi.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rakastin tätä. Rakastin tunnetta, joka parhaiden novellien jälkeen jäi päälle, rakastin pieniä hetkiä ja viipyilevyyttä. Muutama novelli meni ehkä hieman ohi tai en niille niin lämmennyt, mutta yli puolelle olisin voinut antaa vaikka kuusi tähteä. Paras lukemani novellikokoelma, aivan kevyesti.

[Radit Panjapiyakul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful but unsentimental, simple and complex at the same time, creative and yet never seem too calculated or forgot its root, there’s a reason why Gao Xingjian is one of my favorite writers. For me, he seems to strike a balance that’s not so easy to find in modernism.

[Inês]

Não vou atribuir estrelas porque simplesmente não percebi nada.

[Vasco Simões · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pequenos contos nos quais podemos encontrar o que dá o titulo a este livro. São escritos com elegância e sem pomposidade. No se refere ao conto Uma Cana de Pesca para o Meu Avô e que pelos vistos é o mais famoso está uma grande salganhada uma vez que mistura a cana de pesca...o avô...o jogo Alemanha Federal - Argentina no Mundial...Golo...parece um sonho muito confuso. Os excertos são um belo exercício de leitura, uma vez que são frases curtas soltas mas muito bem escritas que nos transportam para diferentes cenários.

[Fernando Pestana da Costa · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a collection of six short stories. The one I liked most is the one that gives its title to the book; an almost oneiric story. The last story is rather strange, but (perhaps) making more sense on a second reading.

[marri౨ৎ‧₊˚. · Rating 2 out of 5]

i expected more , only liked one of the short stories :/

[Zoha Mortazavi · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's an overwhelming amount of detail in every paragraph: the color of things, shape of things, how a brand-new fishing rod feels in a child's grip, and the necessity of concealing any anti-communism evidence by wrapping it in foil and burying it in vases. There is no climax in these stories, but there is always a possibility or a memory of one. It feels like floating in narrator's head, which Is almost as chaotic as mine.

[Ana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Uma Cana de Pesca para o Meu Avô é um livro de contos do autor chinês, Gao Xingjian, Prémio Nobel da literatura do ano 2000. É o primeiro livro que leio deste autor, e para primeira experiência está a ser agradável. Não é nenhum livro que seja ESPECTACULAR, mas é interessante e diferente do que estou habituada a ler, o que torna uma novidade e vai de encontro aos meus objectivos literários.
Sendo um livro de contos, irei comentar cada um e no final faço um resumo do livro na sua totalidade e da escrita.

O Templo
O Templo é o primeiro conto do livro. Conta um episódio da lua-de-mel de um casal recém casado, que chegam a uma cidade e descobrem um novo templo. No final de ler este conto, fiquei um pouco confusa sobre o mesmo, pois fiquei na dúvida se realmente o tinha compreendido, pois não tem grande história. Um ponto que gostei muito foi o narrador. Este tem uma ligação com o leitor muito interessante e carinhosa.
Classificação individual: 6/10*


O Acidente
O Acidente é o segundo conto e relata-nos o que realmente acontece durante um atropelamento de uma bicicleta por um autocarro. A história não passa daí, mas é engraçada de se ler pois o autor relata o acontecimento de uma forma um pouco para o cómica, pois é como as pessoas de fora o relatam e vão sempre imaginando a sua versão do acidente, que muitas vezes não tem nada a ver com a realidade. Novamente o narrador está muito bom, bem como a escrita.
Classificação individual: 6/10*


A Cãibra
A Cãibra é o terceiro e pequeníssimo conto do livro. Confesso que a história do mesmo não me seduziu. É um homem que está a nadar no mar e que subitamente tem uma cãibra no abdómen. Em primeiro este facto é um pouco estranho, pois apenas senti cãibras nos pés ou nas pernas, mas pode ser que seja possível. E em segundo a história não puxa muito pelo leitor. É verdade que está bem escrita, mas não é motivadora.
Classificação individual: 4,5/10*


Num Parque
Num Parque é o quarto conto e o que mais gostei até a data. O enredo da história passa-se num parque, no qual dois amigos de infância costumavam brincar, e que passados alguns anos depois de se terem deixado de ver se reencontram e começam a falar do passado. A história é muito engraçada e conseguimos simpatizar com os seus personagens, apesar de não os conhecermos muito bem, pois algumas das suas falas já as dissemos ou ouvimos, os seus acontecimentos de vida são muito comuns, o que torna o conto um pouco real. Há que referir mais uma vez que está muito bem escrito.
Classificação individual: 7/10*


Uma Cana de Pesca para o Meu Avô
Uma Cana de Pesca para o Meu Avô é o quinto e maior conto do livro. Conta-nos alguns momentos de infância do narrador. É um conto engraçado, mas nada de extraordinário. Ao longo da história vamos lendo várias descrições da sua relação com os seus familiares e locais que frequentava quando era uma criança. Faz-nos pensar na mudança que alguns lugares sofrem com o passar do tempo, alguns locais “sagrados” para algumas pessoas, que acabam por serem destruídos e no seu lugar surgem novos prédios, sem significado para as pessoas locais. Para além disso faz-nos também pensar nas brincadeiras de criança com pessoas que já partiram ou com quem já não estamos nos nossos dias.
Classificação individual: 6/10*

Instantâneos
Este conto é um pouco estranho pois não existe uma história concreta. É constituído por parágrafos separados, com diversos temas, e que por vezes se juntam, dando alguma continuidade. Não não existe o habitual: inicio, meio e fim. Neste conto, o autor por vezes joga com as sensações e com os sentidos. Apesar de não ter gostado muito do conto, ele está bem escrito.
Classificação individual: 5/10*


Resumo final
De uma forma geral os contos de Gao Xingjian são agradáveis de ler, mas não são contos em que a pessoa fica deslumbrada. Um ponto interessante no livro é que, grande parte dos contos, relatam situações do dia-a-dia, acontecimentos que podem acontecer-nos a nós ou que já assistimos na nossa vida.
A escrita deste autor é agradável, lê-se muito bem. Joga muito com as sensações e sentidos ao longo do livro. Por vezes, perde-se um pouco a descrever o que está a volta do cenário, mas acaba sempre por voltar a história.
Apesar de ter gostado do livro, não foi suficientemente tentador para voltar a pegar num livro deste senhor, ou pelo menos num futuro próximo.
Recomendo o livro, a quem queira ler algo de diferente do que está habituado a ler, pois o livro consegue quebrar a monotonia dos livros que habitualmente lê.

[Nazmi Yaakub · Rating 3 out of 5]

MEMBACA karya pengarang yang pernah membakar bagasinya yang mengandungi sejumlah manuskripnya pada era Revolusi Kebudayaan China (1966-1976) bukan pengalaman yang menyenangkan. Kita seolah-olah dihela oleh Gao Xingjian yang menerima Hadiah Nobel Kesusasteraan pada 2000 itu, sebelum dibiarkan terkontang-kanting dalam dunia imaginasinya untuk menebak maksudnya.

Namun, ia tidaklah memberikan pengalaman yang menyenakkan sepenuhnya kerana adakalanya seperti dalam sepotong cerpennya, In The Park, kita bakal diawang-awangkan oleh jalinan dua jalur cinta; satu adalah nostalgia terhadap cinta yang diremukkan oleh zaman lampau, manakala satu lagi cinta yang bakal dikecaikan oleh zaman kini.

Ajaibnya dua jalur yang berbeza dengan watak yang berlainan itu, seolah-olah bermula dan bakal berakhir pada garis yang sama sehingga identiti watak itu tidak lagi menjadi penting dan kita sendiri akan hilang punca dalam jalinan dialog yang sudah tidak terikat pada pengucapnya.

The Accident pula sebenarnya adalah satu peristiwa kemalangan yang biasa di sebuah kota raya tetapi Gao menjadikan peristiwa itu sangat mengesankan tetapi dengan perlahan-lahan, beliau menyedarkan peristiwa yang luar biasa pada satu ketika, bakal luput sehingga kita sendiri pun pada hujungnya seolah-olah terlupa terhadap peristiwa berkenaan. Membaca The Accident seolah-olah kita dihakimi oleh Gao terhadap tanggapan kita dalam kehidupan rutin yang serba laju di kota yang serba deras ini.

Cerpen Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather yang menjadi judul kumpulan cerpen ini pula menghela nostalgia watak terhadap suasana desanya melalui perjalanan imaginasinya yang dilatari perubahan zaman yang sangat mengejutkan. Kita seolah-olah penumpang sebuah kenderaan masa yang bergerak laju dengan kiri dan kanan kita adalah zaman yang sentiasa berubah.

Enam cerpen dalam kumpulan ini memang bertolak daripada sesuatu yang mudah tetapi perjalanannya menjadi semakin sukar sementelah lagi Gao ialah penganut aliran absurdisme yang menjadi mangsa kepada gerakan komunisme di negara asalnya sehingga beliau pernah ‘disekolahkan’ semula oleh pemuka Revolusi Kebudayaan.

[Troy Schwab · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can’t quite recall how I had found Gao Xingjian, I think off of a chart of Chinese lit I had found online, him obviously being in the contemporary section, or maybe more accurately born in the Republic Period (1912-1949). I got a copy of Soul Mountain and then of this collection, Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather. At first the stories really did not sit well with me; I really just didn’t like them. They felt half baked and the vignettes being thrown up felt shoddy and empty, honestly like some student who just found out about Hemingway’s Iceberg. A bland story with subtle subtext via dialogue or internal monologue.

Then I got to the third story, Cramp, and it just felt so much more simple and direct and alive. The iceberg that was the focal point in The Temple and In The Park fell away. Writing this now I feel as though that was the fundamental turning point – The Accident and BFR follow suit — they offer simple stories and really try to grapple with death. BFR started to really hurt. Going home and not recognizing it. I had trouble reading that. In an Instant was very interesting but again, I felt that the abstraction of language did not provide the structural integrity that I think fiction ought to have. With that having been said, some paragraphs really were excellent, but the overall flow for a stream of consciousness or maybe a surreal work just wasn't there for me.

The translator’s note from Mabel Lee at the end (I feel) confirmed my thoughts, saying that Xingjian's “linguistic art of fiction is ‘the actualization of language and not the imitation of reality in writing,’ and that its power to fascinate lies in the fact that, even while employing language, it is able to evoke authentic feelings in the reader”. Good stuff. I hope that Soul Mountain is just as good as the high notes of this collection, and with such a rich backstory (Xingjian’s misdiagnosis) I feel it must be. Mabel Lee translated SM as well, spending seven years. My first Chinese lit and I’m excited to continue.

As much as I enjoyed some of these stories, the low points of this collection were certainly low. 3/5 feels right.

3/5

[Guido · Rating 2 out of 5]

Commentare un libro tradotto dal cinese non mi sembra del tutto corretto nei confronti del suo autore; credo sia giusto precisare che, non avendo idea di quali dettagli e quali sfumature di stile e significato siano andati perduti nel passaggio all'italiano, questo commento si riferisce in modo particolare a questa versione, e il mio giudizio è parziale e molto limitato. La premessa è doverosa perché questo libro mi ha davvero deluso: ho poca fiducia nei premi, ma per qualche motivo ero convinto che il Nobel a Gao Xingjian fosse ben motivato. Troppe cose, in questi racconti, sembrano non funzionare a dovere. I primi quattro sono d'impronta cechoviana, raccontano vicende di persone comuni in uno stile estremamente lineare e privo di enfasi, evidenziando limiti e difetti della società cinese. L'impressione è che manchi qualcosa: la semplicità della prosa sembra essere fine a sé stessa; se altri autori andrebbero criticati per l'abuso di avverbi e aggettivi, impiegati per nascondere la mancanza di ispirazione, Gao Xingjian sembra ricorrere al trucco opposto, affidandosi al candore delle frasi più elementari per dare un'impressione di poesia: ma si avverte decisamente la mancanza di una componente emotiva sufficiente a tenere vivo l'interesse. Gli altri due racconti sono più sperimentali, e l'intento è meno ovvio, ma fin troppo confuso: nel primo lo stile si fa improvvisamente carico di subordinate, che sembrano artificiose e innaturali, un virtuosismo privo di senso; mentre il secondo, "Attimi", è un tentativo (piuttosto malriuscito) di raccontare per immagini, e diventa ben presto noioso. Qualcosa in questi esperimenti suona poco convincente; è come assistere allo spettacolo di un prestigiatore troppo presuntuoso riuscendo a indovinare tutti i suoi artifici. Mi aspettavo qualcosa di più concreto e, soprattutto, di più sincero. Capisco che questi racconti non sono così rappresentativi; per farmi un'idea più completa dovrei leggere almeno La montagna dell'anima, ma questa esperienza ha decisamente smorzato la mia curiosità.

[cindy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sebuah kumpulan cerpen yg indah sekaligus tidak mudah dimengerti. Kata pengantarnya mengibaratkan cerpen2 di dalamnya sebagai lukisan impresionist dengan kekuatan narasi Gao Xingjian sebagai warna-warni cat yang menangkap moment dalam kehidupan. Ungkapan yg pas sekali.

Jika ada bentuk penyajian cerita yg kurasa benar2 menantang daya pengertianku, maka itu adalah gaya stream of conciousness. Kelima cerpen di sini, sediki banyak menggunakan bentuk ini. Yang mudah dan ringan seperti di cerita Kuil dan Kram. Juga dalam cerpen Kecelakaan awalnya bernada gosip tapi diakhiri dengan penuh pesan filsafat.

Dua cerpen terakhir, Membeli Batang Pancing untuk Kakekku dan Seketika jauh-jauh lebih berat. Keduanya dengan enaknya berpindah-pindah sudut pandang pertama, kedua, ketiga tanpa peringatan pada pembacanya. Lebih parah lagi, cerita juga seenak hidungnya berpindah-pindah kisah dan tokohnya. Mungkin Batang Pancing sedikit lebih mudah dimengerti karena tema lingkungan hidupnya yg jauh lebih terbuka, namun Seketika benar-benar..... samar? membingungkan? penuh lamunan?

Mudah untuk menangkap keindahan kalimat-kalimat di kisah-kisah ini, tapi lebih rumit dan repot untuk mengerti esensi ceritanya. Seperti mengintip potongan-potongan impian seseorang tanpa benar-benar memahaminya.

[Valentin Derevlean · Rating 2 out of 5]

Am deschis volumul acesta de proză scurtă cu așteptări mari. În fond e vorba de un premiu Nobel la mijloc. Și chiar dacă e doar un volum, până acum rezultatul e dezamăgitor.
Gao Xingjian scrie despre China având în cap o imagine a trecutului, o nostalgie a memoriei. Personajele din povestiri nu sunt esențiale, esențială e tinerețea, copilăria lor. Ici, colo, câte o sugestie a dictaturii partidului, câte o nuanță mai violentă despre sărăcie și despre condiția de locuitor chinez. Scenariul narativ e minimal dacă nu dispare complet. Jocul cu amintirile e cel mai important, însă e insuficient pentru a ține în viață unele dintre povestiri.

[Teresa · Rating 3 out of 5]

Una raccolta di racconti che si può dividere in due parti.
I primi quattro racconti sono brevi, delle istantanee. Scritti tra il 1983 e 1984, sono lineari, freschi, con descrizioni precise. Lasciano la voglia di sapere di più, ma sono in fondo perfetti nella loro parzialità.
Gli ultimi due racconti, Una canna da pesca per mio nonno, datato 1986 e Attimi, datato 1990, sono più lunghi e scritti in modo più ricercato ed onirico. Se il primo mi è comunque piaciuto, non posso dire lo stesso dell’ultimo.

[Kenneth · Rating 2 out of 5]

In the afterword it is remarked upon that "Gao warns readers that his fiction does not set out to tell a story. There is no plot, as found in most fiction, and anything of interest to be found in it is inherent in the language itself." Given that last bit one can quite safely assume more than a little gets lost in translation.

[Marta · Rating 4 out of 5]

«𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝗻ã𝗼 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗿 𝗱𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮çã𝗼, 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿-𝗻𝗼𝘀 𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗿 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗮 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝗺 à 𝗰𝗮𝗯𝗲ç𝗮.»

Os seis contos presentes neste livro são um bom conjunto, no geral, de escrita criativa e estilos experimentais. O conto «O Acidente» foi o que mais me chamou à atenção pela banalização da morte e as sucessivas interrogações que me transportaram para a escrita de Jorge de Sena.

[مرجان محمدی · Rating 3 out of 5]

مجم��عه داستان از نویسنده برنده جایزه نوبل. علتش را چندان نمی دانم! خوب بود و ترجمه اش عالی

[Amene · Rating 3 out of 5]

خوب بود، ترجمه ی روان و خوبی داشت. فضای داستان ها چینی بود اما لحن و روایت سردی مرسوم آسیایی جنوب شرقی و ژاپنی را نداشت.