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One Man's Bible

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This is a fantastic autobiographical novel about the author's experiences under Mao's China and how it affected him and others. The subject matter itself is enough to reccomend this book because we rarely get insights into this closed world and must strive to understand it as it emerges as a world economic power.

The author uses an interesting techinque of detachment where the main character is also the narrator who speeks most often in the third person. Irme Kertesz in his novel "fatelessness" beautifully dscribes how people can survive even the worst suffering, such as the holocaust, by detachment of soul from body. In "Fatelessness", the protagonist survives the concentration camps by escaping outside himself and comes to not only view his suffering and surroundings in the third person but becomes so detached that the physical pain, wounds, illness and suffering of his own body are described and experienced as a thiid person. This mode of escape was subconcious and persisted after the war, leaving a permanent scar of detachment that leaves the reader wondering how the protagonist will relate in peacetime.

Gao has evidently experienced a similar form of coping mechanism that is evident in the sections of the novel that take place in the present, during his expatriat years. It becomes manifest by his casual serial sexual encounters with women who also have similar problems of forming lasting bonds and attachments because of trauma (rape etc). Gao's inability to form a lasting personal bond extends to his lack of attachment to China, his people and his new home, career and friends. Though his insights are [rofound, Gao's emotions and actions are superficial and dream-like.

The most brilliant technique is his use of the word "you." The detached narrator (Gao)uses this word to refer to the subject (Gao)as if he is writing for and talking to himself. I have only seen this technique used in Gao's other novel translated into English "Soul Moutain." Later in the novel, when describing the past he uses "him" to describe the subject "Gao" living in Mao's China. The Narrator uses "you" to refer to the Gao in the present, expatriat state.

The use of "you" and "him" has a multilevel effect on the text and the reader. "Him" Gao of the past becomes "You" Gao of the present - a different level of detachment. "Him" Gao is the Gao of the present describing the Gao of the past as if from a distance, as if that person no longer exists and is dead or lost. The "You" Gao is more familiar, closer, intimate yet detached, a different, mature Gao of the present who is having these relationships, having his plays performed and struggling with the present novel and his past. If a man is the sum of his experiences we are left still wondering who the real Gao is and if he knows himself. It is as much a discovery of Mao's oppressive China as an effort of self descovery -- both painful.

The other effect of the use of "You" used by the narrator to describe Gao in the present is the author subtly drawing in the reader, to place him or herself in Gao's place, to become Gao. "You" also refers to the reader. We are invited to become Gao in our imagination as we read the text. The simplicity of one word creating so many layers of meaning and effect on the text and reader is on par with Jose Saramago's penchant for a lack of puntuation in many of his works.

This book is indeed something special, ingenious, and genuine. You may walk away haunted and disoriented, angry, frustrated, helpless and questioning your security. But as Gao makes clear at the begining, the experience of a Chinese mind under Mao can only be compared to the Holocaust under Hitler. Here East and West share a commonality of humanity at its best and worst, a common suffering and experience and a place to begin a dialog of understanding. Evil takes on many forms but it's effects on the human soul are universal.

To this day, the bizarre, cult-like events of the Cultural Revolution remain a prime focal point for Chinese novelists and, especially, memoirists. Writers from Adeline Yen-Mah, Jung Chang, Jan Wong, and Anchee Min to Yu Hua, Mo Yan, Dai Sijie, and Yan Geling have plumbed the depths of political capriciousness, human debasement, and the sheer will to survive in their own lives or in those of their fictional characters. Yet few if any Chinese writers have dared examine the effects of the Cultural Revolution on their later, post-Tiananmen Square massacre (1989) lives. Gao Xingjian's semi-autobiographical novel, ONE MAN'S BIBLE, is the first I have encountered, and the results are hauntingly devastating.

The story opens in a Hong Kong hotel in 1996 with the unnamed Chinese narrator (an internationally successful playwright) and his temporary paramour, a white Jewish woman of German descent named Margarethe. Theirs is an affair of mutual convenience and simple animal lust, but it is also a continuation of two largely hopeless searches for human closeness and warmth even as both characters deny that they seek such a thing. Margarethe works insistently to draw out the narrator's past, asking him to tell his life's story and suggesting that he turn it into a book. The narrator for his part insists that such a thing is not possible, that "things in China can not be explained by language alone," yet the book of his life unfolds before us in chapters that alternate (for the first half of the book) between his present-day encounter with Margarethe and his autobiography.

What emerges from this approach is a haunting tale of a rational, intelligent man trying desperately to cope with the utter irrationality of the Cultural Revolution. At first a nonpolitical citizen of Beijing, the narrator decides that he can best survive by becoming a faction leader. Having established his revolutionary bona fides, he then lays low and chooses his moves carefully, ultimately realizing that his next move is to the countryside, to keep his head down as a peasant farmer and teacher for perhaps the rest of his life. To maintain his sanity, he secretly writes about his feelings and experiences, keeping his papers well-hidden from nosy neighbors. Over time, he discovers that survival under Mao requires repeated acts of selfishness and disregard for the feelings of others, particularly the women who pass through his life, offering sexual temptation coupled with the threat of personal ruin. Ultimately, Margarethe returns to Europe and disappears from the alternating scenes, leaving Gao to examine ever more intensely his own past, his failings and regrets and lost relationships. He never shares with us the manner in which he "escapes" from China, partly because it doesn't really matter and partly because, in a psychological sense, he will never escape.

By using the alternating chapters, the author establishes a clear divide between history and the present while simultaneously illustrating how that history impinges on the narrator's current life. Gao takes this structure even further by bifurcating the narrator himself, referring to his present-day self in the second person (you) and to his pre-escape self in the third person (he). Yet they are clearly just variations of the same person; the narrator's past is an inescapable part of his present. He is scarred for life by the Cultural Revolution, and the lonely, distant, untrusting person he has become is a direct reflection of the persona he was forced to adopt in order to survive those times. He has learned to be a soulless user of others, and little else.

This is a dark and haunting examination of life and survival during the unimaginable events of the Cultural Revolution and its aftermath. Timed and placed in 1996 Hong Kong just before the British turnover over that island to the Communist government in Beijing, it is also a fascinating metaphorical contemplation of modern China, a nation of soulless users lusting after money the same way his narrator lusts after women. Gao Xingjian emerged from relative obscurity (at least outside of China) to become his country's surprise first Nobel Prize winner for Literature. In ONE MAN'S BIBLE, Western readers can get a sense of why he was chosen. Deservedly so, it would seem.

I just finished reading One Man's Bible and loved it!

It is the story of a chinese man - a writer. Throughout his story, told by jumping to the past and back to the present, Xingjian narrates what life was like in China after Mao's Cultural Revolution and how the changes the country went through affect the lives of people.
The narrator, who refers to the main character only in third and second person, conveys the loneliness of men through these times. Despite the changes in government during Mao's time, the constant is that everyone was to be deemed an enemy, there was no one to turn to (think 1984 without the futuristic stuff), when there was always some reason to punish people.

The subsequent depersonalization that creeped into people's lives when they were not allowed to think by themselves, translated into a mechanical 'blending in' for survival, the loss of freedom in every aspect of life, and the harsh struggle to recover his individuality after all has passed, make for a great novel.

A word of advice: keep track of the character's names in a notebook and try to read something on Chinese history before delving in. It will make it easier to follow.

One Man's Bible is a profound meditation on the excruciating effects of sordid political oppression on human spirit. The sobriety of writing bespeaks a dignity, which is an awareness of existence, and it is in this existence that the power of the frail individual lies. In a laudably detached voice, Gao Xinjian stipples a vivid picture of human frailty, repression and suffering under the totalitarian regime that exists only in memory, like a hidden spring of spring gushing forth a deluge of feelings that are difficult to articulate.

The book, unlike many of the contemporaries that expose austerity of life under Red Horror, is shockingly realistic and yet not a tale of suffering, at least that is not what Gao intends it to be. The delineation is so genuine and faithful to the reckless truth and excruciatingly painful purging that only men in Gao's generation can identify with. The reality is almost too heartrending to bear, even in words: the acrimonious politics, the class struggles, and a society that is riddled with paranoia and fear under such taut repression and miasma.

Gao reflected on his childhood and adolescence, cudgeled his memory of China's most obstreperous times, and yet found an incredulously detached voice as if he is an outsider to all the horror. His narrative in the book is almost a form of joy without any connotations of morality. He is indeed like an outsider who narrates transparently the events, who scrapes off the thick residue of resentment and anger deep in his heart and articulates his thoughts and impression with amazing equanimity, and audacity.

The result is a brand new voice in modern Chinese literature, a genre that deviates from post-modernism. It is a pure form of narration in which he contrives to describe in simple language the terrible contamination of life by politics, the tragic infringement of human rights, and at the same time manages to expunge the pervasive politics that penetrates every pore and sense. One can realize that Gao has carefully excised the insights that he possesses at the instant and in the place, as well as shoving aside his present thoughts.

The meaning of the title is at total loggerhead to any preoccupied speculation that readers might possess prior to reading the book. Gao contrives not to write about politics though he means to accent his memories during the dark period. The outcome is a stunning account of man person's fate is being miraculously and calumnously determined with surpassing accuracy than the prophecies of the bible, attributing to the policies and regulations that fluctuate so frequently, according to the bitter contention of Party members.

As accurate as it claims to be, the dossier, which exists for each individual, is generally inaccessible to the general public, does not necessarily reflect the truth (including mentality, thoughts, political stance, and affiliations) of individuals. People learn to wear a mask, to extinguish their voices, to hide their true feelings deep at the bottom of their heart in the midst of paranoia. Everyone seizes the opportunity to put on an act to score some good points for himself. Nobody dares to look one another in the eyes for fear of betraying any allegedly reactionary or counter-revolutionary thoughts.

The sense of time is warped as Margarethe, Gao Xinjian's Jewish lover, stirs up his memories of the embittered childhood under the shadow of Mao in a hotel room during pre-handover Hong Kong. Though a fictionalized account, Gao has engaged in a dialogue that produces a state of mind that allows him to endure the pain of articulating the painful events. To him the country doesn't exist but exists only in memory that the country is possessed by him alone, and is thus a one man's account. The book is an epistle of freedom that is obtainable only through seizing the moments in life and capturing instant-to-instant transformations.

2004 (11) © MY

Part of why Gao Xingjian's book "One Man's Bible" has such an impact for the Western audience is that many of us who have heard of the Cultural Revolution in China still have no adequate experience that helps us understand it or its impact on the Chinese people. Xingjian's detached style may be the only way to deal with this and not go crazy. So many of the details are startling. When he relates how his father's ownership of a gun some 30 years previously is held against him so that he's threatened by the dreaded "reactionary" & "counter-revolutionary" labels is amazing to the Western mind. To hear of families split apart as educated parents are sent for 8 years of "re-education" in rural labor camps is shocking. When those in political disfavor become ill, the hospital becomes the ideal method for assassination. I believe it's because of this subject matter that the book has such an impact.

There is also another underlying theme of human isolation. Surrounded by people, the main character cannot let anyone get close to his heart and emotion. He interprets freedom as an absence of love; and this is perhaps the saddest aspect of the book. Xingjian's series of lovers from the German Marguerite to his first love Lin and the many other casual affairs reflect the satisfaction of the basic hormonal drives, but leave an emotional detachment that precludes real intimacy. On a purely human level, this clinical self-examination is put under a harsh light.

The novel's construction uses some of the techniques that made "Soul Mountain" also seem fresh & "un-Western." The alternation of time periods, flashing back and forth from past eras in China to the present detachment works to produce a tension in the novel. Use of various persons (e.g. I, he/she) including second person (you) narration adds a variety; whereas more accepted Western standards would look for consistency. People may react negatively to the book because we're used to a plot line where a story is told. Xingjian's story is told here, but it's in more of a travelogue format than the traditional structure that builds to a climax. Xingjian's tale seems to travel to anti-climax, much as life often can seem mundane or routine.

Some of the philosophical chapters near the end did not connect with me as well. The book does seem to end simply because the author put down the pen. But all in all, this is an important book. My family watched the film "Balzac & the Little Chinese Seamstress" the other night. I found myself using Xingjian's book to fill in many of the details about the re-education camps for my family. Translated works may lose some of the original nuance and impact, but Mabel Lee did a good job with the translation. I often would ponder an unusual image. This is an excellent mind-stretching book. Enjoy!

One Man's Bible is not easy to read, as it is complicated both in form and content. An autobiogaphic novel of a chinese writer during Mao's Cultural Revolution....

The book deals with the thoughts, happenings and loneliness of one man, who struggles to find himself in the middle of political and culural turmoil in China.

Nothing is good or bad, everything is simply different shades of gray. What's acceptable one day is punishable the next. Nobody wants (dares) to take any type of political stance, in a changing world.

Anxiety and vulnerability are in every single paragraph, as the writer is obcessed with finding the meaning of life in casual sexual experiences.

Everyone is forced to wear a mask, which allow them to blend in to the everchanging panorama of things. Identity is nonexistent.

Regaring form, the book jumps not only from time to time, back and forth, but is also narrated in second and third person, which complicates things a bit.

As Gao clarifies during his Nobel acceptance speech, he wites for himself, and by doing so, provides an insight into twentieth century maoist China.

In summary, a bit heavy....

"One Man's Bible" is the first of Gao Xingjian's two novels that I have read. I had anticipated an in-depth, inside look at life in Communist China. I got that but not in the manner I had come to expect. Xingjian portrays a society that was certainly a repressive one but yet one in which evolving standards enabled the hero to be both victim and active participant. The book weaves itself around in time so that, for the first two thirds of the book, the chapters go back and forth between past and present. This has the effect of letting us know that the hero survives whatever crisis he faces as we go along. While this minimizes some otherwise suspenseful moments, it also enhances our interest in other subjects. For example, we learn very early in the book about the hero's failed marriage but we never find out anything more about the particulars until the last third of the book.

This book certainly appears to be autobiographical fiction and we see our hero, Xingjian, develop as an artist and find his own personal freedom in his art. Yet he often has to hide or destroy the very things that give meaning to his life lest he seem "different" from the standard. We follow the development of Red China through to the near present when relaxed repression alows persons like Xingjian to emmigrate.

The person that Xingjian has become is not a very likeable one. He is focussed solely on himself. His relationships with women, and there are many of these, seem to center almost exclusively on sex. His marriage that failed was apparently not his fault but he seemed determined never to commit himself to anyone else after that. I found myself engrossed in his story but not in himself. As I reflected on this, I came to the understanding that Xingjian had a lifetime struggle to avoid becoming just another one of the masses. In struggling to maintain his individuality he seems to have succeeded too well. Perhaps this is the greatest statement he was able to make about the evils of a communist society.

Gao's penetrating and honest insights about Chinese people, the Cultural Revolution, and his personal experience and feeling enable him to create a book that is as realistic and beautiful as books created by Mark Twain. It is a great achievement!

I highly recommend this book. Initially I found it difficult and the sequences with Margarethe were perhaps a little bit tiresome but warming up to the story I got a lot out of it. I don't agree that the horrors of the Cultural Revolution were just like the purges and fascist regimes in other parts of the world. Instead of simple oppression by evil regimes against suffering citizens there was instead millions of little civil wars in every commune, every factory, every office across the country.

The style is a little detached at times but this adds to the atmosphere. The writer doesn't try to create victim-heroes but shows what it was like for the compromised majority. A world dominated by fear and compromise, favours furtively delivered and favours frantically called in. Beatings, up-rooting and death are common in a situation where one is not allowed to be neutral, one must take sides to survive. It was corrosive to all human relationships and leaving a generation traumatised. One can only wonder what it really meant to experience it, or what it would be like if social purists or Christian Reconstructionists came to power in ones own country.

The description is thorough and uncompromising; the experience of being caught up in the events well communicated but it is neither a confession nor an accusation. It is ultimately the tale of ordinary fearful people put in terrifying circumstances where every thing you ever did or said could betray you. At the end there is a sort of acceptance and personal reconciliation.

Read it, its good.

One Man's Bible conveys the life and death choices the narrator had to make every day during a period of extreme social turbulence.This book excels in communicating the tension between the desire to survive and thrive in society and a personal desire (in this case to keep writing)that is forbidden by "society". The narrator is certainly not a hero and does not judge what his happening around him.

I also found the book very good in being able to paint a picture of daily life, at the collective and individual level, in the period where the book is set.