文學(xué)就是一個充滿流動性的地域

參加類似的討論，我喜歡即興發(fā)言，平時的感受加上現(xiàn)場同行們發(fā)言的觸發(fā)——無論是正面的還是反面的——都會產(chǎn)生一種激活效應(yīng)，使人產(chǎn)生新鮮的想法。但是，沒有辦法，不同語言間的交流似乎取消了這種可能性，雖然早就有人倡導(dǎo)世界的文學(xué)，但不同的語言還是構(gòu)成了不同的文學(xué)世界。在悉尼參加第三次中澳文學(xué)論壇時，一位澳洲作家坦率地說，在他的經(jīng)驗中，世界文學(xué)其實就是英語文學(xué)。有人覺得這是自大或者狹隘，但我覺得這樣的坦誠相當可愛，其實是說出了某種真實的情形。而好些中國作家面臨的是另外情形，如果你只是在中文世界得到讀者的歡迎與敬重，這不算成功。我們急于把所寫的文字變成另外的語言，特別喜歡跑到世界各地去參加類似今天這樣的討論，并預(yù)先把要說的話翻譯成別的語言。以至于有外國的批評家跑到中國來說，中國作家不行的原因就是因為不懂得外國語。我想，他們肯定不會對在本國對本國語言的作家說這樣的話。我最近正在寫一部長篇小說，主角是上個世紀一位到中國探險的植物學(xué)家。小說像一部交響曲有大小不一的主題，主題之一就是想探討一個在本國也就是本身生活的地域中低調(diào)嚴謹?shù)娜藶槭裁吹搅肆硪粋€地域——一個有著明顯文明落差的地域就會變得自大與狂妄?

我已經(jīng)不止一次提醒過自己，要少參加一些這類的活動，但今天還是來了。并預(yù)先為了翻譯提前寫好了這個發(fā)言。

我要說，今天會議要討論的這個題目設(shè)計太好了。好到什么程度呢?因為“文學(xué)”，“流動”，“地域”三個詞完全覆蓋了我寫作與閱讀經(jīng)驗的方方面面。

地域是空間，流動當然會在某個或大或小的空間里發(fā)生，以詩人為例，真正走遍大地的中文有李白和蘇東坡，英文有惠特曼，西班牙文有聶魯達。大范圍的流動造就了寬廣的表現(xiàn)空間。也有很少出門的詩人，或者出了門也行之不遠，只去街口的雜貨鋪賣點日用品的狄金森，這是美國人。中國也有這樣只處于狹小空間中的詩人。那是一個王妃叫花蕊夫人。她著名的詩句“君在城頭豎降旗，妾在宮中那得知?”說得是，她深鎖后宮，連他的國王丈夫在外面戰(zhàn)敗投降了也不知道。流動性很差，但照樣造成了一個含義豐厚的空間。而在這或者廣大或者狹隘的地域中，他們都造就了非常偉大的文學(xué)空間。在大小不一的空間中表現(xiàn)出了特別的人生。不僅塑造了自己的人生，而且在某種程度上還在影響著我們這些人今天的人生。

比如，借談?wù)撍麄儊碇挝覀兘裉斓膶懽骰蜓巯逻@種談話的合理性。

這個題目還可以倒過來看：“文學(xué)”，“流動”，“地域”。

這也是構(gòu)筑文學(xué)世界的另一種方法。

這讓我想起了印度裔的英國作家奈保爾。他為了文學(xué)，為了寫作重返父親的祖國印度。二十六年間回去了三次，寫成了三本書。他這是為了文學(xué)而流動。從歐洲流動到南亞次大陸。到了印度，他繼續(xù)流動，從南到北，從發(fā)達的城市到凋敝的鄉(xiāng)村；他流動，在不同的個人和社會群體之間，不同種姓，不同宗教，不同族群之間。三本書從不同的側(cè)面寫出了那個地域的不同方面。這個變化中的地域。這個充滿可能性也充滿困境的地域。這個地域是物理的，是物質(zhì)的，也是精神的與文化的。

關(guān)于流動，奈保爾說：“作為一個作家，我的世界充滿飛行，以及未完成的經(jīng)驗……”

關(guān)于地域，他說：“作者用了二十六年時間，超越個人發(fā)現(xiàn)與痛苦，展開分析，最終抵達那個簡單且無比強烈的經(jīng)驗：印度是重要的。”

關(guān)于文學(xué)，他說：“我并沒有將自己所見全部寫出來。我把那些經(jīng)驗儲存起來，然后產(chǎn)生一個想法，我要擴展那段經(jīng)歷，完成一個大部頭，里面充滿了人，這個關(guān)于印度的全景式描述將在一個廣泛的意義上涵蓋或者解釋這個國家未來二十年或三十年將發(fā)生什么。”

所以，關(guān)于這個題目，我是不能說出什么新鮮的東西了。

所以，我再一次提醒自己，如果不能完全杜絕，以后也要盡量少參加這樣的活動。這似乎是文學(xué)研究者們的專業(yè)。

我要做的，是更多地在自己的地域中流動，觀察，體悟，書寫。

我所書寫的地域是青藏高原。這個地域與整個世界相映照，有著過于強烈的文化與地理上的異質(zhì)性，全世界都愿意將其當成一個例外與奇跡。看待這個地域時，難免都有蘇珊?桑塔格所指認過的那種“奇觀化”的傾向。很多人愿意把那里當成一個例外。當作世界最大的奇觀。把那里當成一個化外之地。我的工作就是書寫這個地域，這個地域上的人群中所發(fā)生的一切，都處于前所未有的變化之中，而這些變化也是這個正在急劇變化的世界的一個部分當這個世界的很多號稱文明的人更愿意將其與整個世界割裂出來，當成另一個世界。所以，我的這種努力當然會受到質(zhì)疑。記得在瑞士一個城市朗讀我一部小說《塵埃落定》德文版的時候，一個看起來非常善良的女士對我說，你把西藏寫得如此野蠻令我非常痛心，西藏怎么可能有如此嚴酷的刑罰?因為我的書中寫一個人因為不當?shù)难孕斜桓畹袅松囝^。也是這本書在英國的朗誦會，不得朗誦結(jié)束，一個憤怒的英國人漲紅著臉沖上臺來，抗議我污蔑了達賴喇嘛神圣的宗教。因為我寫到了寺院里僧人用暴力反對在拉薩開辦一所英文學(xué)校。這是一個真實事件，1946年，英屬印度駐拉薩的代表提出這個辦學(xué)建議，這所學(xué)校開辦半年后，因為寺院方面強烈反對而被迫關(guān)閉。所以，今天關(guān)于青藏高原的寫作，絕大多數(shù)時候并不是一個文學(xué)問題，甚至也不是一個政治問題，而是一個我不知道是什么問題的問題。這種寫作的困難放在這里討論似乎也沒有什么意義。依佛教的觀點，就是這個世界的很多人其實需要“正知正見”。當然，這個號稱文明的世界也沒有蒙昧到人人都如此的程度。前年去澳大利亞的時候，《Burnt ground 》雜志主編就送來他主編的這本刊物上刊發(fā)的我的小說，并稱贊我的敏銳與勇氣。澳大利亞也出版過我的長篇小說。盡管如此，將某個地域符號化，或者如一些僧人所做的一樣，將這個地域符咒化的現(xiàn)象還在那些自認文明的人群中普遍存在。對于人類理性而言，這是一種罪惡。文化的預(yù)設(shè)使這種罪惡滋生，意識形態(tài)的先入為主助其泛濫。

這種地域的偏見一旦形成，流動也就消失不見了。

社會在時代大潮中的流動被視而不見。固守了這種認知的人們，他們的智識的變化至少在這個局部上就不再啟動。

當然，結(jié)果就是沒有面對現(xiàn)實的文學(xué)，而只是奈保爾所說的“幻象”。

問題是，整個文明世界為什么有那么多人要在已然發(fā)生著劇烈變化的青藏高原拼命維持這樣一種幻象?

流動正在全球不同程度地發(fā)生。沒有任何一個角落成為例外。流動是物質(zhì)的，也是觀念的，更是情感的。這是現(xiàn)實，也是文學(xué)積累下來的普遍的經(jīng)驗。在全球化的背景下，文學(xué)又被賦予了不同文化不同語言間深度對話的功能。或者說，在全球化背景下，這個功能被空前放大。但對話的基礎(chǔ)是平等，是相互尊重。還是以印度為例。以英語書寫中的印度為例。吉卜林所寫的印度與奈保爾所寫的印度間就存在著巨大的差異。這種差異所彰顯的正是人類智識的進步。

今天的中國，正以前所未有的開放態(tài)度向著世界敞開。這不僅是這個國家的政府所采取的經(jīng)濟開放政策。更重要的是，從一百多年前的新文化運動開始，中國包括作家在內(nèi)的知識分子群體，就已經(jīng)向著世界全面開放。到今天，在很多時候，在中國，一個作家成就的衡量，并不是以其用中文這種語言表達中國這個地域的各種經(jīng)驗是否充分，而是以其在西方世界的別種語言中是否受到歡迎為標準的。如果我們把中國文學(xué)的真實現(xiàn)狀與西方呈現(xiàn)的中國文學(xué)圖景相比，無疑有著巨大的偏差。這種情形對我本人是一個提醒。人都生活成長于不同的地域，無論流動性增加到什么程度，這種由地域規(guī)定的語言與現(xiàn)實經(jīng)驗還是一個根本性的東西，至少在現(xiàn)在看來就是如此。世界文學(xué)的時代并沒有真正到來。那么，我要做的工作首先是構(gòu)建自己的世界，而不是過于急迫地走向另外的世界。因為這種急迫可能使我們會以別人的標準去扭曲自己豐富的，自有風范的，并且可能日趨圓滿的世界。在我看來，文學(xué)，是為了呈現(xiàn)一個流動的地域。文學(xué)家，以此方式加入世界的對話，而不是為了在對話中受到歡迎，而去捏造或扭曲一個地域。

（有關(guān)奈保爾的引文全部出自《百萬叛變的今天》序章《虛構(gòu)與非虛構(gòu)》。）

Literature – A Region Filled with Mobility

A lai

When I participate in a discussion of this kind, I like to speak spontaneously and reveal my personal feelings and ideas inspired by other speakers, be it positive or negative, because it gives rise to fresh ideas. But it is impossible for me to do so on some occasions when my audience speaks a different language. Although many people have been advocating a type of literature belonging to the whole world, different types of literature emerge in different languages. When I attended the third China-Australia Literary Forum in Sydney, an Australian writer said frankly that in his experience, English literature could be considered as a literature belonging to the whole world. Some people think that his idea is arrogant or narrow, but I quite appreciated his candid idea and thought it revealed some truth. Some Chinese writers are faced with something else. You are not a successful writer if you are only received and respected among Chinese readers. We are eager to translate our works into another language, so we go around the world to attend relevant meetings, and translate the speeches we are going to deliver in advance. But some foreign critics say that Chinese writers are lousy because they cannot speak foreign languages. I don’t think they would ever say such harsh words to a writer from their own countries. I have been working on a novel recently and the protagonist is a botanist who explored China last century. The novel is similar to a symphony because it also covers different themes, one of which is to discuss how a person who keeps a low-profile in his native country becomes arrogant when he moves to a less developed place.

I have reminded myself more than once to join fewer such activities, yet here I am. I even wrote this speech beforehand to be translated.

I would like to say, the discussion topic for today’s meeting is truly great. But to what extent? “Literature” “mobility” and “region” - these three words cover every aspect of my writing and reading experience.

A region is a space where mobility, large or small, certainly happens. Take poets as examples. Poets travelled over the land, including Li Bai and Su Dongpo who wrote in Chinese, Walt Whitman who wrote in English, and Pablo Neruda who wrote in Spanish. Mobility in a large region contributes to wide space for expression. There are also poets who seldom walk out of the door or never travel far away from home even when they leave the house, such as Dickinson, the U.S. poet who only went out to shop down the street for daily necessities. There are also Chinese poets who put themselves in limited spaces, such as Lady Huarui. Her famous line “High on the wall the king waved the flag of surrender, deep in the palace how could I know?” illustrates how she was confined within the palace and did not know her husband the king had been defeated and surrendered to the enemy. Although there was a lack of mobility, space with rich meaning was still created. Within either wide or narrow regions, they all created great literary spaces, and represented special lives in spaces of different sizes. They not only shaped their own lives, but also, to some extent, influenced our lives today.

For example, we can support the reasonability of our writings today or our current conversation by talking about them.

The topic can also be seen the other way around: “l(fā)iterature,” “mobility” and “region”.

This is also another way to construct the literature world.

I am reminded of Naipaul, the Asian-Indian British writer who went back to India, his father’s homeland, to pursue writing. Three trips to India were made in 26 years, and three books were written. For the sake of literature, he flew from Europe to the South Asian Sub-Continent, from the south to the north of India, and from advanced cities to shabby countries. He flew among various individuals and social groups, castes, religions and ethnic groups. The three books tell various aspects of the region from different perspectives – it is a changing region filled with possibilities and dilemmas, a region of substance, spirit and culture.

For mobility, Naipaul said: “As a writer, my world is filled with flights and unfinished experiences…”

For region, he said: “The author spent 26 years, went beyond personal findings and pains, carried out analyses, and finally had a simple yet remarkably strong experience. India is important.”

For literature, he said: “I didn’t write down all my findings. I stored those experiences, and had an idea: I want to expand the experience and write a tome depicting different persons. The panoramic description of India would cover or explain in wide meaning about what would happen in the next 20 or 30 years in the country.”

Therefore, there’s really nothing new I can say about this topic.

I reminded myself again to attend fewer such activities, which seemed meant for literature researchers.

What I need to do is move, observe, taste and write more in my own region.

The territory I write about is the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, a region casting light on the whole world with its excess cultural and geographical heterogeneity. Therefore, the world regards the region as an exception and a miracle. When seeing the region, it is inevitable to think of Susan Sontag’s “spectacle”. Many people are willing to regard the region as an exception, the largest wonder of the world, and an uncivilized place. My work is to write about the region. Unprecedented changes are taking place here, part of a rapidly changing world. Many so-called civilized people are more willing to separate the region from the rest of the world and regard it as another world. Therefore, my efforts would certainly be questioned. I remember one time when I was reading a novel of mine – the German version of The Dust Settles – in a city in Switzerland, a seemingly kind lady said to me: “I’m heartbroken seeing that you wrote Tibet to be such a barbarous place. How could such severe punishment even exist in Tibet?” I wrote in my book that in Tibet a person’s tongue was cut out for inappropriate words and deeds. I failed to complete a reading from the same book in the U.K. when an angry and blushed British person rushed onto the stage, protesting that I slandered the sacred religion of the Dalai Lama, because I wrote in the book that monks of a temple used violence to protest the opening of an English school in Lhasa. The event is real. In 1946, a representative of British India in Lhasa proposed to open such a school, which, after half a year since its establishment, was forced to close because of strong protests. Therefore, writing of the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau today most of the time is not a matter of literature or politics. Instead, it’s a matter the nature of which I’m not aware. Such difficulties in writing seem to be meaningless for discussion here. From a Buddhist viewpoint, many people need the “right understanding and right view”. Of course the so-called civilized world is not so ignorant. When I visited Australia the year before last, the editor-in-chief of Burnt Ground sent me my novel published in the journal that he edited, and praised my keenness and courage. My other full-length novels were also published in Australia. Still, symbolizing a certain region like some monks did still prevails in those regarding themselves as civilized. For human rationality, this is a kind of sin. Prediction of culture leads to breeding of the sin, while preconception of ideology contributes to overflow of the sin. 

Once the regional prejudice forms, mobility disappears.

Mobility in society is ignored. Changes in the wisdom and knowledge of people firmly holding such cognition would no longer be launched, at least in this aspect.

Of course, the result is that no literature faces up to reality, and only Naipaul’s “phantom” remains.

The question is, why are there so many people desperately maintaining the phantom in the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, a place already undergoing so much dramatic change?

Mobility happens to a different extent around the globe, and not a single corner would be left out as an exception. Mobility is physical, ideological, and especially emotional. This is reality, and also a common experience accumulated in literature. In this age of globalization, literature is also endowed with the function of deep dialogue between various cultures and languages. Or, the function is unprecedentedly amplified in this age of globalization. However, the foundation for dialogue is equality and mutual respect. Again, take India, especially India in English writings, as an example. India under the pen of Kipling is dramatically different from India under the pen of Naipaul. Such difference manifests the very advancement of wisdom and knowledge of human beings.

Today’s China is opening itself with an unprecedentedly welcoming attitude. It does not solely come from the economic opening-up policy that the government has adopted. More importantly, ever since the New Culture Movement over a hundred years ago, groups of intellectuals in China, writers included, had already completely opened themselves up to the world. Today, the appraisal of a Chinese writer’s achievement does not depend on whether he/she has adequately and with sufficient experience used Chinese to express China as a region. Instead, the standard is whether his/her works, when written in other languages, are popular in the West. If we compare the real situation of Chinese literature with Chinese literature presented in the West, we would find a huge deviation. This is also a reminder to me. People live and grow in different regions; no matter how much mobility grows, language and real experience regulated by regions remain fundamental, as least for now. The age of world literature has not really arrived yet. My work would start by constituting my own world instead of rushing off to another world, as such urgency may lead us to warp our rich, self-styled and gradually complete world. In my opinion, literature is to represent a mobile region. Litterateurs join the world’s dialogue in this way, rather than to fabricate or warp a region so as to be popular in the dialogue.

(References of Naipaul all come from Fiction and Non-fiction, prologue of India: A Million Mutinies Now.)