Megan Walsh 谈通过文学了解中国

梅根·沃尔什谈通过文学了解中国

https://thediplomat.com/2022/02/megan-walsh-on-understanding-china-through-its-literature/

在一本新书中，沃尔什探讨了当今中国流行的截然不同的写作体裁和风格。

香农·蒂兹 2022 年 2 月 9 日

梅根·沃尔什谈通过文学了解中国

梅根·沃尔什（Megan Walsh）在她的新书《次要情节：中国正在读什么及其为何重要》中探讨了当今中国文学的不同流派和流派，从文学小说到广受欢迎的网络书籍和农民工诗歌。 沃尔什解释说，每种类型的写作都代表了中国社会的不同方面，综合起来，它们有助于描绘出现代中国充满活力、多样化的生活现实。

在下面的采访中，沃尔什详细解释了她的书、审查制度在塑造中国文学中的作用，以及中国的“软实力”问题。

您提出了研究中国小说的理由：因为它比非小说类小说受到的审查更少（尽管肯定不是未经审查的），具有讽刺意味的是，小说可以提供当代中国的“更真实”的肖像。 “对于许多作家来说，呈现令人难以忽视的事实的最佳方式就是反其道而行之，故意将事实呈现为虚构，”你写道。 您能为那些还没有读过您的书的人详细说明一下吗？

我写这篇文章是专门针对阎连科决定将他对中国河南农村艾滋病危机（由九十年代不卫生的血液市场造成）的实地研究转化为他令人难忘的小说《丁村之梦》而写的。 严说，他这样做是为了避免审查（尽管这本书最终还是被禁了），这无疑是许多其他作家也选择将“事实当作虚构”呈现的主要原因之一——风险较小。

但还有另一个动机。 严的小说由一个死去的孩子讲述了一场“蔓延的发烧”，可以说更加身临其境、准确地描述了这些小型农村社区中无情的卖血者（或“血头”）所创造的噩梦般的现实。 和阎一样，许多其他作家——从余华、残雪、莫言到下一代超现实主义者——创造了新的荒诞主义或魔幻现实主义文学风格和流派，以反映他们在当代中国所经历的“非现实”。

也就是说，许多作家使用现实主义小说（而不是非小说）的原因相似，因为它在他们自己和他们所写的内容之间提供了创造性的距离。 他们可能不会谈论受到审查的经历或事件，但他们仍然强调了当代社会中困难的断裂，例如年轻作家想要探索父母压力的沉重负担，但又不想显得不孝，或者农民工需要表达他们的艰辛，但不一定要指责政府 他们。 苏珊·桑塔格（Susan Sontag）说过“信息永远不会取代启发”，我想这也巧妙地概括了中国作家的事实与虚构之间的区别。

说到审查制度，我们来讨论一下政治审查制度与道德审查制度（禁止“黑”字与“黄”字）之间的区别。 虽然某些政治话题一直是禁忌，但近年来，中共重新强调了“道德和正派”。 这是否对您所讨论的某些小说风格构成威胁？ 例如，耽美或男孩爱情故事强调同性关系，“打脸”故事的主角显然不是道德典范。

当然是。 在中国，自孔子、庄周以来，写作一直被视为灌输道德的最佳方式。 [教导]如何成为好孩子、好父母或好统治者。 在当今中国共产党的心目中，文学也有同样的目的：它应该是说教的，它应该展示“红色文化”对道德和复兴社会的贡献的多种方式。

网络小说长期以来被视为低俗小说，但这些史诗般的传奇故事已经演变成类似电脑游戏的空间，让年轻人沉浸在被视为非政治和非道德的世界中。 它们经常描绘热衷于追求权力、地位和诱惑的个人主义者，或者描绘的爱情对象是一位肆无忌惮、炙手可热的亿万富翁。 这些对个人伟大的幻想并不是年轻人的样子——甚至不是他们想成为的人——但也许提供了一种急需的宣泄形式：假装不思考、不负责任和反社会是很有趣的。 在现实生活中，无论是在学校还是在工作场所，服从的压力可能会非常大。

尽管如此，考虑到网络小说的流行程度，政府希望对其内容拥有更多控制权也就不足为奇了。 正如“低俗”电视节目，特别是励志真人秀，显然正在被“道德建设节目”所取代，网络小说平台也受到“社会主义收视率”的限制，为此，

低分需要“整改”。 直到最近，这主要意味着删除越来越多的禁区：涉及性的场景、性暗示、宗教、政治（包括古代）、女同性恋、女性化的男人、鬼魂、自杀、暴力打斗、有毒偶像 有趣的是，（无性）耽美或男孩爱情小说《守护者》被直接搬上银幕，其中赵云澜和沉巍之间的同性爱情被重新演绎成柏拉图式的“社会主义兄弟情”。

尽管如此，任何对性或暴力的描述都受到严格监管，所有内容都必须有效地适合儿童观看或阅读，这当然对作家构成了挑战。 对于网络作家们对颈部以下任何部位的描述，他们不遗余力地进行修饰或掩饰，这让他们感到非常沮丧，但也有一些自豪。 同样，对于非法印刷的耽美故事来说，性越轨和相对露骨的内容当然也是吸引力的一部分。 而对于那些年轻女作家的惩罚也是严厉的。

最后，值得注意的是，尤其是像阎连科和已故王小波这样的老作家，他们在小说中对性和暴力的运用往往暴露了官员罚人放纵自己的虚伪和性堕落。

中国的耽美故事在海外已经找到了一个小众市场，但也有狂热的追随者。 例如，翻译《魔修宗师》的草根努力，加上该电视节目在 Netflix 上播出，在英语世界创造了一个热情的粉丝俱乐部。 视频博主李子柒在 YouTube 上吸引了全球粉丝，宣传中国农村的生活——尽管政府正在追求和倡导城市化。 中国一些最大的“软实力”成功正在宣扬让中共本身感到不舒服的说法，我们该如何看待这一事实？

很难说这会如何发展，但据我所知，中国政府会很高兴。 乡村影响者李子柒被视为新中国的象征，她正在讲述“一个美好的中国故事”。 同样，很多在国外流行的仙侠奇幻作品，比如《魔道祖师》、《我要封天》，都具有鲜明的中国特色，可以看作是对中国独特和畅销的一种颂扬。 - 文化传统。 至关重要的是，这些网络幻想很大程度上与政治无关。 如果西方读者不再只对“中国禁”的小说感兴趣，那么从很多方面来说，这对中共来说是梦想成真。 如果说有什么不同的话，那就是中国奇幻和科幻小说是中国软实力的第一个成功例子。

尽管如此，如今大多数被认为“不健康”的网络小说在有机会为外国读者翻译之前都会在中国被取消，因此内容可能很快就会枯竭。 同样，中国的民族主义也越来越多地渗透到网络故事的情节中，主要是作为作家提供的讨价还价的筹码，以避免受到审查，所以我不知道如果它变成这样，年轻的西方或国内观众会有多大的接受度 太普遍了。

被西方分析家归类为“宣传”的小说在中国流行到什么程度？ 例如，您讨论了反腐败电视节目《人民的名义》的受欢迎程度——这是一个成功故事的反常现象，还是对亲政府故事的更广泛兴趣？ 当然，我们在西方有这样的例子——杰克·鲍尔或詹姆斯·邦德式的故事，主角实际上是一名政府特工。

这是一个很难回答的问题。 除了网络小说之外，很难知道人们真正从阅读中得到什么乐趣。 当然也有姜子龙这样的老牌作家，他的作品中社会主义现实主义和革命浪漫主义有机地闪耀，有时还获奖。 茅盾奖是中国最负盛名的奖项之一，它通常表彰那些小说至少不冒犯政府品味的作家，而政府的品味又不断变化：我不确定格非的江南三部曲是否合适 2015 年获奖的《》在当前环境下仍将获奖。 最重要的是，这种小说不是宣传，即使作家自己已经习惯了自我审查某些想法或材料，也没有被广泛阅读。

流行间谍和犯罪类型小说的作家，如周梅森、麦佳和周浩辉，都小心翼翼地让政府特工或警察最终看起来不错，但这与我们的许多机场小说没有什么不同。 学校的“红色教育”让年轻一代对中共及其历史产生难以置信的爱国情绪，并且从理论上讲，他们对大多数宣传，无论是事实还是虚构的，都表现出良好的态度。 尽管人们齐心协力让年轻的网络作家写“红色故事”而不是超级英雄的胡言乱语，但我们还没有看到它们有多受欢迎

。

我认为亲政府故事最成功的媒介仍然是屏幕。 《战狼2》、《红海行动》等赤裸裸的特种部队电影都是破纪录的大片，而讲述五四运动和中共早期的电视剧《觉醒时代》却出乎意料。 深受年轻观众的喜爱。 但爱国主义并不是十拿九稳的。 众星云集的另一部重述中共起源故事的《1921》，是一场浮夸的耐力考验。

简而言之，我认为描绘中国的全球和道德至高无上的当代军事和犯罪类型（就像西方的同类一样）永远比试图让观众对共产主义历史着迷的尝试更受欢迎。 但这并不能阻止这类故事充斥市场。

您如何看待习近平最近提出的“要在党的领导下广泛团结和聚集爱国奉献的文艺工作者”？ 正如您在书中所概述的那样，文学界充满活力的多样性未来是否会面临越来越大的压力，以符合“正能量”？ 或者某些类型是否太受欢迎而无法完全关闭？

据我所知，这是习近平自 2014 年以来不断加快步伐的爱国艺术文化宏伟愿景的延续。然而，除了网络小说之外，网络小说发现自己受到越来越多的审查——而且更容易 只需按一下按钮即可删除和消失——作家似乎确实有一定程度的自由来写他们想要的东西，只要他们不变得太受欢迎。 虽然我永远不会低估政府打击任何它认为对其权威或它希望讲述的故事构成潜在挑战的事物的能力，但我怀疑它认为作家不再是那么大的威胁——希望这对 文学场景的多样性，但不利于这些叙述和故事的影响力和影响力。

梅根·沃尔什（Megan Walsh）的《次要情节：中国正在阅读什么及其为何重要》由哥伦比亚全球报道于 2 月 8 日发表。

Megan Walsh on Understanding China Through Its Literature

https://thediplomat.com/2022/02/megan-walsh-on-understanding-china-through-its-literature/

In a new book, Walsh explores the wildly divergent genres and styles of writing that are popular in China today.

 By Shannon Tiezzi  Feb  9, 2022

In her new book “The Subplot: What China Is Reading and Why It Matters,” Megan Walsh explores different genres and strands of Chinese literature today, from literary novels to wildly popular online books and the poetry of migrant workers. Each type of writing, Walsh explains, represents a different facet of Chinese society – and taken together, they help present a portrait of the dynamic, diverse reality of life in modern China.

In the interview below, Walsh explains more about her book, the role of censorship in shaping Chinese literature, and the question of China’s “soft power.”

You make the case for studying Chinese fiction: Because it is less censored than non-fiction (although certainly not uncensored), fiction could ironically provide a “truer” portrait of contemporary China. “For many writers, the best way to present inconvenient truths is to do the opposite, to willfully present fact as fiction,” you write. Can you elaborate for those who have not (yet) read your book?

I wrote it specifically in relation to Yan Lianke’s decision to turn his field study about China’s AIDs crisis in rural Henan (caused by unsanitary blood markets in the ’90s) into his haunting novel “Dream of Ding Village.” Yan said he did so to avoid censorship (even though the book was eventually banned anyway), and this is certainly one of the main reasons many other writers also choose to present “fact as fiction” – it is less risky.

But there’s another motivation. Yan’s novel about a “spreading fever,” narrated by a dead child, is arguably a much more immersive and accurate depiction of the nightmarish reality created by ruthless bloodsellers – or “bloodheads” – in these small, rural communities. Like Yan, many other writers – from Yu Hua, Can Xue, and Mo Yan to the next generation of surrealists – have created new absurdist or magical realist literary styles and genres to mirror what they experience as “unreality” in contemporary China.

That said, plenty of writers use realist fiction (as opposed to nonfiction) for the similar reason that it offers a creative distance between themselves and what they are writing. They may not be broaching censored experiences or events, but they still highlight difficult fractures in contemporary society, such as young writers wanting to explore the crushing weight of parental pressure without appearing unfilial or migrant workers needing to voice their hardships without necessarily blaming the government for them. Susan Sontag said that “information will never replace illumination,” which I’d say also neatly sums up the difference between fact and fiction for Chinese writers.

Speaking of censorship, let’s discuss the distinction between political vs. moral censorship (the banning of “black” vs. “yellow” writing). While certain political topics have always been taboo, recent years have seen a renewed emphasis on “morality and decency” as defined by the CCP. Does this pose a threat to some of the fiction styles you address? Danmei or boys’ love stories, for instance, emphasize same-sex relationship and in “face slapping” stories the protagonists are decidedly not moral paragons.

Yes, definitely. Writing in China, since the time of Confucius and Zhuang Zhou, has long been seen as the best way to imbue morality; [teaching] how to be good children, parents, or rulers. And literature serves the same purpose in the minds of the Chinese Communist Party today: it should be didactic, it should show the myriad ways “Red Culture” contributes to a moral and rejuvenated society.

Online novels were written off for a long time as pulp fiction, but these epic sagas have evolved into spaces, much like computer games, for youngsters to immerse themselves in worlds that are seen as both apolitical and amoral. They often depict zealous individualists on a quest for power, status, and allure, or romances in which the love interest is an unscrupulous, smoking-hot billionaire. These fantasies of individual grandeur are not examples of what young people are like – or even what they want to be – but perhaps offer a much-needed form of catharsis: it’s fun to pretend to be unthinking, unaccountable, and antisocial. In real life, the pressure to conform – at school, in the workplace – can be very stressful.

Still, given how popular online fiction has become it’s not surprising that the government wants to have much more control over its content. Just as “vulgar” TV programs, in particular aspirational reality TV, are apparently being replaced with “morality building shows,” online fiction platforms are subject to “socialist ratings,” for which a low score requires “rectification.” Up until recently, this has mostly meant removing a growing list of no-go areas: scenes involving sex, intimations of sex, religion, politics (including in ancient times), lesbians, effeminate men, ghosts, suicide, violent fights, toxic idol worship etc.  Interestingly, the (sex free) danmei or boy’s love novel “Guardian” was straightened up for the screen, in which gay love between Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei was re-spun as platonic “socialist brotherly love.”

Still, any depictions of sex or violence are tightly regulated, and everything must effectively be suitable for a child to watch or read which, of course, poses a challenge to writers. There’s a lot of frustration, and some pride, amongst internet writers regarding the lengths they go to bowdlerize or disguise descriptions of anything below the neck. Equally, for illegally printed copies of danmei stories, the sexual transgressions and comparatively explicit material is, of course, part of the appeal. And the punishments for those young female writers have been severe.

Lastly, it is worth noting that, especially amongst older writers such as Yan Lianke and the now deceased Wang Xiaobo, their use of sex and violence in fiction often exposed the hypocrisy and sexual depravity of officials who punish others but indulge themselves.

Chinese danmei stories have found a niche but avid following overseas. A grassroots effort to translate “Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation,” for instance, coupled with the TV show being hosted on Netflix, created an enthusiastic fan club in the English-speaking world. And vlogger Li Ziqi has built up a global following on YouTube promoting life in rural China – even while the government pursues and advocates for urbanization. What should we make of the fact that some of China’s biggest “soft power” successes are promoting narratives the CCP itself is uncomfortable with?

It’s hard to say how this will play out, but as far as I can tell, the Chinese government will be delighted. Rural influencer Li Ziqi is seen as a figurehead for a new China, she is telling “a good China story.” Similarly, a lot of the xianxia fantasies that have been popular abroad, such as “Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation” and “I Shall Seal the Heavens,” have really distinct Chinese characteristics, and can be seen as a celebration of China’s unique – and saleable – cultural traditions. Crucially, these online fantasies are largely detached from politics. If Western readers are no longer only interested in “banned in China” novels this, in many ways, is a dream come true for the CCP. If anything, Chinese fantasy and sci-fi are the first examples of successful Chinese soft power out there.

That said, these days most online novels deemed “unhealthy” will be cancelled in China before they get a chance to be translated for foreign audiences, so the content might dry up soon. Similarly, Chinese nationalism is increasingly creeping into the plots of online stories, mainly as a bargaining chip offered by writers as a way to not get censored, so I don’t know how receptive young Western, or domestic audiences, will be if it becomes too prevalent.

To what extent is fiction that analysts in the West would categorize as “propaganda” popular in China? You discuss the popularity of the anti-corruption TV show “In the Name of the People,” for instance – is this an aberration as a success story or is there a broader appetite for pro-government stories? Certainly we have examples in the West — Jack Bauer or James Bond-style stories where the protagonist is literally a government agent.

That’s a tough question to answer. Apart from online fiction, it’s difficult to know what people actually get a kick out of reading. Naturally there are older, establishment writers such as Jiang Zilong, whose socialist realism and revolutionary romanticism organically shines through his work, and sometimes wins awards. The Mao Dun Prize is one of the country’s most prestigious awards, and it usually recognizes writers whose fiction does not, at least, offend the government’s taste which, in turn, is ever-shifting: I’m not sure if Ge Fei’s Jiangnan Trilogy, which won in 2015, would still receive the award in the current climate. Most importantly, this kind of fiction is not propaganda, even if the writers themselves have got used to self-censoring certain ideas or material, nor is it that widely read.

Writers of popular spy and crime genre fiction such as Zhou Meisen, Mai Jia and Zhou Haohui are careful to make government agents or police ultimately look good, but that’s no different from much of our airport fiction. “Red education” at school primes younger generations to feel incredibly patriotic about the CCP and its history and, in theory, well-disposed to most propaganda, be it fact or fiction. But while there is a concerted effort to get young online writers to pen “Red Stories” rather than superhero capers, we are yet to see how popular they are.

I think the most successful medium for pro-government stories is still the screen. Nakedly nationalistic movies about special ops teams such as “Wolf Warrior II” and “Operation Red Sea” were record-breaking blockbusters, while the TV drama “Awakening Age” about the May Fourth Movement and the early days of the CCP has proved an unexpected hit with young viewers. But patriotism is no shoo-in. Another retelling of the CCP’s origin story, the star-studded “1921,” was a turgid endurance test.

In short, I think contemporary military and crime genres depicting China’s global and moral supremacy (just as the equivalent does in the West) will always be more popular than attempts to make audiences swoon over Communist history. But that won’t stop those kinds of stories from flooding the market.

What did you make of Xi Jinping’s recent exhortation that “It is necessary to broadly unite and gather patriotic and dedicated literature and art workers under the leadership of the party”? Is the vibrant diversity of the literary scene, as outlined in your book, going to come under increasing pressure in the future to conform to “positive energy”? Or are certain genres too popular to entirely shut down?

This is, as far as I can tell, a continuation of Xi Jinping’s grand vision for a culture of patriotic art that has been gathering pace since 2014. However, apart from online fiction, which finds itself under increasing scrutiny – and is much easier to delete and disappear at the touch of a button – writers do seem to have a degree of freedom to write what they want, so long as they don’t become too popular. While I would never underestimate the government’s ability to crack down on anything it deems a potential challenge to its authority, or the narrative it wishes to tell, I suspect it sees writers as not that big a threat anymore – which is, hopefully, good for the diversity of the literary scene, but bad for the impact and reach that those narratives and stories will be able to have.

“The Subplot: What China is Reading and Why It Matters” by Megan Walsh was published by Columbia Global Reports on February 8.

Shannon Tiezzi是外交杂志的主编。
她的主要重点是中国，她写了关于中国的外交关系，国内政治和经济。 香农以前曾在美国 - 中国政策基金会担任研究助理，在那里她主持了每周电视节目“中国论坛”。 她收到了上午 来自哈佛大学和她的学士学位 来自威廉和玛丽学院。 香农还曾在北京的Tsinghua大学学习。