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selenak: (Rocking the vote by Noodlebidsnest)
The last highlight of the Frankfurt Book Fair is the Peace Prize of the German Book Trade; this year it was awarded to Liao Yiwu. There was a lot of background goings on; not least the shameful behaviour preceding the 2009 Book Fair, when China had been the guest of honour, and the Chinese had insisted dissident writers, including Liao Yiwu, were to be disinvited. (Footnote: after the Book Fair organization caved, the German PEN instantly reinvited them as its guests, but Liao Yiwu still couldn't come. He finally made it out of China in 2011 and has been staying in Germany ever since.) Also the heated discussions about the Nobel Prize for Mo Yan, who'd been among the Chinese delegation in 2009 who'd walked out of a room whe the dissidents entered it. Mo Yan, btw, wasn't mentioned in any of the speeches, but at the lunch later a lady sitting on the same table with me expressed her disdain. "Look," said I, "you and I were born here and have nothing to fear for either ourselves or our families. It's easy for us to say 'I wouldn't have done that', and Mo Yan did call for Liao Xiabo's release in the first interview he gave after winning the Nobel." She admitted I had a point.

I have no idea whether I would have the courage to speak out in a dictatorship, but I definitely know I wouldn't have the strengh to live the life Liao Yiwu did. He'd been a relatively apolitical poet until Tianmen Square, when he'd written the poem "Massacre" which got him four years of prison. Afterwards, he lived as a street musician playing the flute dor a while and then started chronicling the lives of the poorest of the poor in China; the interviews form the basis of the books he got the award for. His acceptance speech was the most passionate J'Accuse I ever heard in the Paulskirche. Composed around the refrain "This Empire must break apart" - I deliberately don't translate it as "fall" because he said this sentence in German (the rest of the speech was in Chinese and we could read the translation simultanously), and "zerbrechen" is very different from "stürzen, fallen", plus breaking apart was a theme in the speech - it did something official propaganda also likes to do, using historical parallels, only it did it in reverse to the official interpretations. One reason why I always found the film "Hero" in its aesthetic beauty so incredibly chilling is the basic idea of the individual being nothing and the death of multitudes being acceptable a prize for a greater political goal, unity and an Empire, with the first Emperor being a misunderstood great man. Cue Mao and successors mirroring themselves there.

Liao Yiwu also used the example of the first Emperor of Qin and drew a direct line from him to Mao and current day party bosses, but the point he made was the opposite (I'm translating a translation, so sorry for a lack of style): "His name will always bear the stench of two of his deeds: the building of the Great Wall and the burning of books, which came with the murder of the scholars. Building the Great Wall was supposed to separate the people from the rest of the world and to make China a giantic prison. In order to achieve this, the entire country was forced to work as slaves. The burning of books and the murder of scholars was supposed to separate the people from their own tradition. (...) Two thousand years later he got applause from a new despot named Mao Zedong. Who boasted: Quin Shihuang only killed 400 philosophers; we got rid of tens of thousands of counter revolutionaries."

He conjured up the forty millions who died in the great hunger between 1959 and 1962, the daily degradations and brainwashings later, and what he called Deng Xiaoping's greatest trick: opening the market for Capitalism. The idea that Capitalism in any way is connected with democracy or freedom of speech being by now thoroughly disproved by China's economic success coupled with complete oppression.

"The executioners triumph, because the entire country is their slave. The country is plundered, devastated, sucked dry. To foreign investors, they say: come here, cone here, build your manufacturing plants, do business, build skyscrapers and create networks. As long as you don't bother us about human rights, you can do whatever you want. You may have laws and a public opinion, but here you can wallow in the mud. Come and destroy our rivers, poison our air, ruin our food and our water: come and get our cheap work force and make them work day and night like machines. The more you ensure the Chinese will get physical and mental cancer by destroying their environment, the higher your profit will be. China is the biggest waste hill in the world, and that offers the best business."

And again and again: "This empire must break apart." (Dieses Imperium muß zerbrechen.) At the end of his impassioned, take no prisoners speech, he presented a poem, "The Mothers of Tian'anamen". This he didn't recite but sang, and accompagnied himself on an instrument I don't know, which looked like a bowl made of bronze but worked like a very harmonious gong. His voice was melodious and powerful, and towards the end of the song the most magical thing happened: it was twelve o'clock, so the church bells began to rang and intermingled with the instument-I-don't-know, resulting not in dissonance but the strange harmony of two alien sounds. The effect was so stunning our President Joachim Gauck commented on it later, during lunch when he made a small improvised speech and toast to Liao Yiwu.

Joachim Gauck having been an East German dissident himself, the speech was inevitably personal (and in its moving clarity made everyone sigh in relief his predecessor Christian Wulff was out of the job - though I doubt he'd have come to the award to begin with). He also realistically said that no matter how moved we the audience now were, the memory would fade as it always does, and the so immensely profitable trade with China continue; but that before every democracy there were democrats, words and ideas, and these would eventually make a difference, as we ourselves had reason to know when we atypically (for Germany) managed a successful revolution in 1989. That we're now, 60 years after our own dictatorship (and in a part of the country only twenty years after the other), can offer asylum and a new home to refuges from other dictatorship proves that change can happen. Though we should, he added, work more on and relearn the opening our arms part. Topical allusion is topical.

All in all these were very moving hours and one of the most political of awards. For the first time ever, even the flowers weren't just set decorations: instead of the usual bunch of flowers, there were two yellow chrysanthemes behind bars of iron.

ETA: [personal profile] pujaemuss told me the instrument is a Tibetan singing bowl.
selenak: (Default)
One of the benefits of the world's biggest book fair is that you get to listen to all kind of fascinating stories. By which I don't mean the book fair gossip, though that's mildly entertaining. Sometimes annoying and sexist as well. I'll later given an example for the later, but first the most interesting bits from the last two exhausting days:

a) The reading by Mo Yan, from two of his novels, Die Sandelholzstrafe and Der Überdruss. (Again, no idea what the English titles are - considering Mo Yan is the most famous of the Chinese novelists visiting the fair, theyare bound to exist, but I don't have the time to check.) This was done, as all readings, Q & A's and debates with Chinese authors and scholars on the fair, via translators. (Usually the translators translate near simultanous and are sitting in a booth; as translations into German and English - and Mandarin, for the Chinese - are available, the book fair looks a but U.N.-ish right now. They didn't go to that much effort when the Indians were there, presumably because most of them read and spoke in English, which everyone speaks anyway.) He read two excerpts, and first an actress and then the translator of Der Überdruss read the same excerpts in the German versions. This was a fascinating opportunity to compare word melody for someone like me who doesn't speak Chinese, plus everyone could actually recite really well. (Not a given for readings.) Then there were the text excerpts; one was an animal pov, which is Mo Yan's specialty, and one was the start of the novel describing the set up, the hero who has been shot refusing to submit to the unjust underworld judgement of the demons, continuing his refusal despite being bullied and tortured (this was such an explicit metaphor for a show trial, btw, that I was amazed Mo Yan got the novel published) until they let him go and reincarnate near his old family - but as a mule. The excerpts were all very funny in a black humour way, had a rhythm that was downright catchy, and Mo Yan kept up the humour when talking about the writing. He held up the rather slim volume of his original novel, then the really large and heavy German translation and asked his translator, "Martina, have you added romances? Because my critics claim I can't write them, and so you may have improved me!" He also said that usually he takes much longer but he wrote this particular novel in 43 days ("after having thought about it 43 years"), and by hand, not with the computer as opposed to the others - by brush, no less. He said the sensation of brush on paper really helps with the writing. There were a lot of Chinese in the audience, and they asked questions later. They were standard reading questions, but I noticed the formality of the address (as rendered by the translator, anyway). It was always "hochverehrter Herr Mo Yen" - "very honored Mr. Mo Yen" - which sounds more fluent in German, though also old fashioned.

b) The presentation of the biography of Leopold Engleitner, who is 104 years old and a concentration camp survivor. He was present, though most of the presentation was done by his biographer, Bernhard Rammersdorfer; Mr. Engleitner sat in a wheelchair and looked a bit like a very fragile wood elf, talking in caustic Austrian dialect. He's a Jehova's witness, which was the reason for his arrest and captivity in three different concentration camps - Buchenwald, one whose name I'm blanking out on right now, and Ravensbruck. By the end of the war, he was weighing only 28 kilogramms. What I found most sad was the fact that his parents (conservative Austrians deeply embarassed their son left the church and went to the witnesses of Jehovah anyway) didn't want to hide him; most incredible that he did not appear to be bitter. Asked by Bernhard Rammersdorfer whether he had an explanation for reaching such an old age he said because he enjoyed most of his life ("hat mei Freud dran"); I felt awed and humbled.

From the historic, human and humane to the everyday trivia: some bits of book fair gossip:

- apparantly German book trade is doing business as usual, but everyone says the Americans made severe cut backs; a greatly reduced presence, far fewer agents, and several publishers switched completely to non-fiction

- most annoying joke at one of the few receptions that did take place as follows. To appreciate the background: Horst Lauinger is the head of Manesse publishing; Manesse publishes classic literature (read: anything older than a century). Joachim Unseld heads the Frankfurter Verlagsanstalt; he's also the son of the late Siegfried Unseld, legendary publisher of Suhrkamp, and was expected to take over Suhrkamp until S. Unseld got divorced and married Ulla Berkowicz, which resulted in a severe father/son falling out, which resulted in Ulla Berkowicz basically inheriting Suhrkamp and making herself the most unpopular person in Frankfurt by deciding to move the publishing house to Berlin. (And by other decisions, that's just the latest one.) So, at Joachim Unseld's reception, Horst Lauinger declared himself the luckiest of publishers: "Because my authors are so old that they don't have any bloody widows to trouble us." You know, I actually have a lot of sympathy for J.U., but I don't like cheap jokes about widows, and you hear them on every single fair sooner or later. How artist's widows should just be burned, etc., etc. Bah.

I'm really worn out by now - a week of browsing, listening and debating will do that to you, and it's not over yet - but have a growing list of books I want to buy or lend from someone else really badly, like always this time of the year. Today's most interesting browsed-through novel was about two women, who travelled as fairground attractions in the 19th century, "the ugliest woman in the world" and a pretty young girl named Rosie the "owner"/agent added to give the audience a kick by the physical contrast. I also liked a novel about Caterina de' Medici and a non-fiction book by Tom Holland called "Millennium" about Europe in the century leading up to and immediately after the year 1000 AD, which came across was entertaining and very well researched.

Now off to try and catch up online...

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