Ji Xianlin: Memoirs from the Cowshed (manuscript edition), Zhongguo Yanshi Publishing House, 2006, 9787801288799
The ritual of mourning for Old Ji can be considered complete.
By comparison, the book I would still recommend is *The Archive of Shuxingbei*, though *Memoirs from the Cowshed* has its own distinct flavor. If *The Archive of Shuxingbei* is a downright tragedy, then *Memoirs from the Cowshed* is more like a farce—dark humor, of course.
How was the Cultural Revolution possible? This was the last question posed by Old Ji. The Cultural Revolution was a miracle; it gathered together every favorable condition of time, place, and people, and only then did it blossom in a manner of utter absurdity. The so-called decade-long catastrophe was merely the most brilliant stretch of its life; this freakish flower had already begun to unfurl in the 1950s (those who do not know the background may supplement their reading with *The Archive of Shuxingbei*), and even to this day it has never truly withered away. According to Old Ji’s theory, the essence of this freakish flower was simply “to torment people”; in fashionable terms, it was “SM.” The people’s S and the intellectuals’ M (which Old Ji said was “a sense of original sin”) are both deeply rooted; once the stage is set, no matter how perverse or absurd the performance, it can happen. Even in this era, who can guarantee that there won’t be another frenzy someday? Today’s young people look back on the Cultural Revolution and find it ridiculous, and they will certainly feel that such things could never happen again; even if they did happen, at least they themselves would not lose their minds. Yet Old Ji, drawing on his own experience, tells us that this confidence is somewhat suspect. He personally witnessed the absurdities of the Kuomintang, and then the absurdities of the Nazis in Germany; he found both laughable. And yet when he himself became caught up in a still larger absurd drama, he did not gradually awaken until after the climax of the play had passed. The truth is that a spectacle of “absurdity” can be seen clearly only by those watching from a cool distance; the performers themselves are often entirely unaware. Although today’s China is not like that era, with the whole country united in performing one and the same farce, scattered farces of all sizes are nonetheless blooming everywhere in profusion. We cannot but take seriously such a question: “How on earth can something so utterly absurd possibly come to pass?” Intellectuals always like to look for the cause within themselves, always seek to bear responsibility themselves; this is the intellectual’s sense of original sin, the intellectual’s M nature. Politicians and the masses, by contrast, do not like to look for the cause within themselves. Well then, in any case, at least grant intellectuals a little more right to self-reproach. In self-reproach, a bit of sharp criticism and irony on the side is inevitable; it does not, after all, undermine harmony and stability. In Old Ji’s words, Chinese intellectuals have always “loved their country without any room for negotiation” — you love it, it tortures you; it tortures you until you are no longer human, and you still love it. Is that not the model of M? When Old Ji spoke these words, there was in fact a sincere feeling mingled with a bitter sense of absurdity. He said: “I have not many merits in my life, but I would say without false modesty that when it comes to loving my country, I am not second to anyone. Even if I were burned to ashes, every grain of ash would still love the country. But as for the trade of being an intellectual, I really do have a bit of a phobia about it. I have never believed in reincarnation. Now, if you were to make me believe in it just once, I would humbly and devoutly pray to the little demon of creation: in the next life, no matter what, don’t play tricks on me; please, please don’t turn me into an intellectual again.” (p. 239)
July 17, 2009
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
Leave a Reply