2000 : Gao Xingjian

2000 : Gao Xingjian

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“for an ?uvre of universal validity, bitter insights and linguistic ingenuity, which has opened new paths for the Chinese novel and drama”



January 4, 1940

Place of birth


Ganzhou, Jiangxi, People’s Republic of China



Playwright, Screenwriter, Novelist, Painter, Director



Paris, France

Notable award(s)


Nobel Prize in Literature 2000


Gao Xingjian grew up in the reverberations of the Japanese invasion in China Eastern. His father was a banker and his mother-actress amateur. She awakened very early in the interest of his son for the performing arts and writing. He received basic training in schools in the DPRK and obtained a degree in French in 1962, the Institute of Foreign Languages Beijing. It translated into Mandarin writers such as Ionesco, Prevert and Michaux who discover the themes and aesthetics of contemporary Western literature, streams of consciousness to the absurd, his compatriots. During the Cultural Revolution, he was sent for six years in reeducation camp in the countryside and is forced to burn a suitcase in which he had concealed several manuscripts. It is allowed to go abroad after the death of Mao in 1979. He then went to France and Italy. Between 1980 and 1987, he published short stories, essays and plays, but its forward thinking and freedom of thought have attracted the wrath of the Chinese Communist Party. His literary theories, outlined in Prime essay on the art of the novel (1981) deliberately go against the tenets of State and realism advocated by the revolutionary regime. Several of his performances, experimental and very much influenced by Brecht, Artaud and Beckett are mounted at Beijing People’s Theater and are more widely reported to the public (as alarm signal in 1982). Exhibit absurd to great success Bus (1983) is even condemned during the campaign against “spiritual pollution”. The subversive nature of his works inevitably confront the censorship. In 1985, Wild Man is the subject of great controversy inside and even raises the interest of international opinion. In 1986, The Other Shore is prohibited representation. To avoid reprisals, he began a journey of nearly a year in Sichuan province and lifted the Yangtze Kiang to the sea In 1987 he was forced into exile and has been declared persona non grata on Chinese territory. He lived in France since 1988, where he obtained political asylum. In 1989 he finally leaves the Chinese Communist Party after the suppression of the student movement by tanks on Tiananmen Square. In 1997 he obtained French nationality. It is Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres.

literary work:

He received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2000 for “a work of universal scope, marked a bitter awareness and linguistic ingenuity, which has opened new paths to the art of the novel and Chinese theater”. His most famous novel is the mountain of soul odyssey into the countryside in southwestern China featuring a mixture of several stories with characters who are the mirrors of one another and different facets the same me. This quest human roots, inner peace and freedom, expanding on a more extensive and constantly destabilizes the reader through a dizzying Thursday on Nominalisation personal pronouns ( “I”, “You,” ” Me, “” It “). This story of a time for oneself, of introspection, reconciling the art of narrative storytelling and traditional Chinese research formal Western novel, is deliberately countdown artistic and political demands of the Chinese Communist Party. Another great story: The Book of a man alone is itself largely autobiographical. The author rule accounts with terrifying folly of a nation blinded and he was one of many victims under the Cultural Revolution. He is the author of short stories and poems and also an opera: Snow in August. Some of his plays were written directly in French (published by Editions Lansman). Very antinaturaliste, the theater seeks to find all its modes of expression in the forefront in the western Chinese ancestral representation like the game of masks, shadows, dance-song and drums. His performances deconstruct notions of space-time traditional and find their drop point in a verbal language and grotesque dance, meaning a feverish fantasies and obsessions of contemporary man. Graphic works:Gao Xingjian is also a painter. His early paintings reflected stubbornly penetration threat made by the dark masses, but they say the ultimate victory of clarity. As a therapy to end with China. He dropped out of oil after 1978 to devote himself to ink: “My first visit to European museums in 1978, has changed my relationship with art. I had never admired masterpieces of the original oil. What brightness, what intensity, what creaminess! My own palette seemed dull, opaque. The story which I was carrying could not allow me to create, to progress with Western weapons: I abandoned oil ink. Since I will enrich the practice of black monochrome, controlled from the eighth century by Wang Wei so inventive as its eternal zealots, even today, without mimic the innovation. ” It uses traditional Chinese materials (rice paper, brush hair goat), it its module black ink in hundreds of shades. However, it also applies techniques to the West for his draped, its translucent glaze and its depth. Made in Indian ink, his paintings of all sizes, combining abstraction, figuration and pantheism. His mysterious landscapes result in a trip to the depths of the soul, her paintings have names evocative (Recueillement, Forgotten, Surprise): contours of a nature as before in a chiaroscuro, silhouette of a woman draped as a “Virgin prehistoric” walking in a rocky landscape, men in heavy body whose head is fine to a sunset (which calls to mind the romantic contemplation of Caspar Friedrich). Some of his works are reproduced on the cover of some of his books.


Works in Chinese:

  • Xiandai xiaoshuo jiqiao chutan – Guangzhou : Huacheng, 1981

  • You zhi gezi jiao Hongchunr – Beijing : Beijing Publishing House, 1985

  • Gao Xingjian xiju ji – Beijing : Qunzhong, 1985

  • Dui yizhong xiandai xiju de zhuiqiu – Beijing : China Theater Publishing House, 1988

  • Gei wo laoye mai yugan – Taipei : Lianhe, 1988

  • Lingshan – Taipei : Lianjing, 1990

  • Shanhaijing zhuan – Hong Kong : Cosmos, 1993

  • Gao Xingjian xiju liuzhong – Taipei : Dijiao, 1995. – 7 vol.

  • Meiyou zhuyi – Hong Kong : Cosmos, 1996

  • Zhoumo sichongzou – Hong Kong : New Century, 1996

  • Yige ren de shengjing – Taipei : Lianjing, 1999

  • Bayue xue – Taipei : Lianjing, 2000

  • Wenxue de liyou – Hong Kong : Ming Pao, 2001

  • Gao Xingjian juzuo xuan – Hong Kong : Ming Pao, 2001

  • Ling yizhong meixue – Taipei : Lianjing, 2001

  • Gao Xingjian duanpian xiaoshuo ji – Taipei : Lianhe, 2001

A selection of works by Gao Xingjian in English:

  • Wild Man: a Contemporary Chinese Spoken Drama / transl. and annotated by Bruno Roubicek // Asian Theatre Journal. Vol. 7, Nr 2. Fall 1990.

  • Fugitives / transl. by Gregory B. Lee // Lee, Gregory B., Chinese Writing and Exile – Center of East Asian Studies at the Universtity of Chicago, 1993.

  • The Other Shore: Plays by Gao Xingjian / transl. by Gilbert C.F. Fong – Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1999.

  • Soul Mountain / transl. by Mabel Lee – HarperCollins, 1999.

  • One Man’s Bible – [In transl. by Mabel Lee]

  • Contemporary Technique and National Character in Fiction / transl. by Ng Mau-sang – [Extract from A Preliminary Discussion of the Art of Modern Fiction, 1981]

  • The Voice of the Individual // Stockholm Journal of East Asian Studies 6, 1995.

  • Without Isms / transl. by W. Lau, D. Sauviat & M. Williams // Journal of the Oriental Society of Australia. Vols 27 & 28, 1995–96.

  • One Man’s Bible : a Novel / translated from the Chinese by Mabel Lee – London : Flamingo, 2002 ; New York : HarperCollins, 2002 – Uniform Title: Yi ge ren de sheng jing

  • Return to Painting / translated from the French by Nadia Benabid – New York : Perennial, cop. 2002 – Uniform Title: Pour une autre esthetique

  • Ink Paintings by Gao Xingjian : Nobel Prize Winner – Dumont, NJ : Homa & Sekey Books, 2002

  • Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather : Stories / translated from the Chinese by Mabel Lee – London : Flamingo, 2002 ; New York : HarperCollins, cop. 2004 – Uniform Title: Gei wo lao ye mai yu gan

  • Cold Literature : Selected Works by Gao Xingjian – Chinsese-English bilingual ed. / original Chinese text by Gao Xingjian translated by Cilbert C.F. Fong and Mabel Lee – Sha Tin, N.T., Hong Kong : The Chinese Univ. Press, 2005

  • The Case for Literature / translated from the Chinese by Mabel Lee – New Haven : Yale University Press, 2007


  • Trees on the Mountain : an Anthology of New Chinese Writing / ed. by Stephen C. Soong and John Minford – Hong Kong: The Chinese U.P., cop. 1984.

  • Gao Xingjian, le moderniste // La Chine aujourd’hui No 41, septembre 1986.

  • Basting, Monica, Yeren : Tradition und Avantgarde in Gao Xingjians Theaterstuck “Die Wilden” – Bochum: Brockmeyer, 1988.

  • Loden, Torbjorn, World Literature with Chinese Characteristics: On a Novel by Gao Xingjian // Stockholm Journal of East Asian Studies 4, 1993.

  • Lee, Gregory B., Chinese Writing and Exile – Center of East Asian Studies at the Universtity of Chicago, 1993.

  • Lee, Mabel, Without Politics: Gao Xingjian on Literary Creation // Stockholm Journal of East Asian Studies 6, 1995.

  • Lee, Mabel, Pronouns as Protagonists : Gao Xingjian’s Lingshan as Autobiography // Colloquium of the Sydney Society of Literature and Aesthetics at the Univ. of Sydney. Draft paper the 3–4 Oct. 1996.

  • Lee, Mabel, Personal Freedom in Twentieth-Century China: Reclaiming the Self in Yang Lian’s Yi and Gao Xingjian’s Lingshan // History, Literature and Society – Sydney: Sydney Studies in Society and Culture 15, 1996.

  • Au plus pres du reel: dialogues sur l’ecriture 1994–1997, entretiens avec Denis Bourgeois / trad. par Noel et Liliane Dutrait – La Tour d’Aigues: l’Aube, 1997.

  • Lee, Mabel, Gao Xingjian’s Lingshan / Soul Mountain: Modernism and the Chinese Writer // Heat 4, 1997.

  • Calvet, Robert, Gao Xingjian, le peintre de l’ame // Breves No 56, hiver 1999.

  • Zhao, Henry Y.H., Towards a Modern Zen Theatre: Gao Xingian and Chinese Theatre Experimentalism – London: School of Oriental and African Studies, 2000.

  • Soul of Chaos : Critical Perspectives on Gao Xingjian / edited by Kwok-kan Tam. – Hong Kong : The Chinese University Press, 2001

  • Draguet, Michel, Gao Xingjian : le gout de l’encre – Paris : Hazan, 2002

  • Quah, Sy Ren, Gao Xingjian and Transcultural Chinese Theater – Honolulu : University of Hawai’i Press, 2004


2006: Lions Award, by the New York Public Library (NYPL) at Library Lions Benefit event.

2000: Nobel Prize in Literature.

1992: Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres.


Excerpt from One Man’s Bible

LIV You do not live longer in someone else’s shadow, and you imagine yourself not to someone else’s shadow is your enemy. You have wandered out of the shade, and are in a great stillness. You no longer enjoy false hopes and fantasies. Naked and without worries came to the world, and you do not take anything with you when you leave it, and you can not do. The only thing you fear is death, you can not know anything about. You remember that you since childhood has been afraid of death, it will then be sent up more fear than it does now. As soon as you hit the slightest ailment you feared it was a fatal disease, and once you got sick you dizzy and began to fantasize and you imagine the worst. But despite the fact that you have suffered a variety of diseases and even been close to death you are still living in hogonsklig prosperity. Life is a miracle that defies description: it is actually living in that miracle realized. This is a man in his living body is able to perceive the pain and the joy that life brings, is not it enough? What more is there to search? Your fear of death sets in when your soul forces falters. You may be difficult to breathe and the fear of not getting enough air into the lungs. You think you topple into the abyss. The feeling that you often fall victims in their sleep when you were little, and you woke up bathing in sweat. In fact, you never sick when you were small. Your mother took you several times to the hospital to be examined, but nowadays do not you care to examine your health, even if your doctor would urge you to it more than once. You are perfectly aware that life has an end, and that while the pain will end. The fear is in itself a manifestation of life: when you lose consciousness cease all in a single moment. You no longer need to ponder, and it is precisely the search for life’s meaning has given you pain. With your friends discussed the youth you the ultimate meaning of life, but in the meantime you hardly had time to start living. Now, once you’ve tasted all that life has to offer, of good and evil, you will find it both useless and ridiculous to seek its opinion. Then it is better to enjoy life while you observe it. You think you see him in a vacuum, illuminated by a dim light, whose source you can not decide. He is not in any particular place, yet he seems you like a tree that does not cast any shadow. The Horizon, which separates heaven from earth, has also disappeared. Sometimes he ter like a bird on a snowy land spanar to the right and left, and sometimes seems to brood over something, but what, you do not. It may just be an attitude, quite a beautiful attitude, for existence is after all nothing more than an attitude, one as far as possible, pleasant attitude. He swings around where he stands with outstretched arms and bent knees and damaging back on their minds. It should perhaps rather say that attitude is his consciousness, it is you who revealed in his consciousness, and that is precisely what gives him a secret joy. There is no tragedy, comedy or farce, they are nothing more than aesthetic values of life, alternating with the people involved, with time and space. The same way with feeling: when what you feel here and now transposed to what one knew where and when the grief and lojet also interchangeable. It does you no longer get rid of funny: you have had enough of self-mockery and self trials. Suffice it to you, calmly and stick to your attitude to life, do your best to enjoy life in and feel at peace with yourself, when you are in your loneliness consider your situation. How to appear in his eyes do not you care about. You do not know what you might do in the future, nor what to do, that you do not need to worry about. You do what you want to do: it is good, it is okay, you fail, it can be. You are not facing any choice. When you are hungry and thirsty eat and drink you. Obviously, you have your views and your preferences, and yet you do not become so old that you can no longer arrest of anger. Obviously, you can still feel indignant about any injustice, but you are no longer as upset. Your feelings and your desire, you are still there, and they may hang as long as they don, but the hatred, you have released because it is so entirely unsuccessful, and being hurt yourself. Life is the only one you care about, and that’s what makes you feel that you still have something to give. You succeed still of interest to you and amazed by new discoveries. And it is the well so that there is only life that can bring an even enthusiasm?

Presentation Speech:

Presentation Speech by Professor Goran Malmqvist of the Swedish Academy, December 10, 2000.

Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen,Gao Xingjian’s literary output comprises eighteen plays, two great novels, and a number of stories, which all fit in one volume. Born in 1940, he began his career as a writer as early as the sixties. His production would certainly have been much larger had not the conditions of life during the Cultural Revolution forced him to burn all his manuscripts of the sixties and the seventies. He also made very important contributions to the theoretical debate concerning the structure and functions of drama and the novel in China during the eighties. His work as a breaker of new ground relates to the form and structure of a literary work as well as to its psychological foundations.The novel called Soul Mountain (1990) stands out as one of the foremost works in twentieth-century Chinese literature. Among many other things Gao Xingjian deals in it with an existential dilemma: man’s urge to find the absolute independence granted by solitude conflicts with a longing for the warmth and fellowship which can be given by “the other,” be it he or she. At the same time, however, this enriching companionship threatens the individual’s integrity and, without fail, ends in some kind of struggle for power.The author’s vivid sense of alienation in a politics-ridden society made him, in the early eighties, go in search for hidden-away parts of southwestern and southern China, where there still existed traces of primitive cultures, age-old shamanistic rites and Daoist notions. In his portrayal of these cultures, replete with fantastic cock-and-bull stories which bring to the reader’s mind the repertoires of traditional storytellers, he also castigates strict Confucian orthodoxy as well as Marxist ideology and their respective demands for obedience and uniformity.In the course of his pilgrimage to Soul Mountain, where he hopes to find the ultimate truth about the meaning of life and the human condition, the author’s ego is stricken by loneliness and is forced into creating a you, a projection of itself, which, in turn, hit by the same loneliness, creates a she. The numerous he figures that make their appearance in the novel are likewise projections of the author’s ego. With the help of these pronominal projections, the author manages to investigate a wide range of human relationships and their consequences for the individual.The novel entitled One Man’s Bible (1999), which Gao Xingjian himself looks upon as a companion novel to Soul Mountain, is a novel of confession in which he mercilessly lays bare the three different parts he played during the Cultural Revolution: as a leader of a rebel faction, as a victim and as a silent observer. Again he makes use of the pronouns you and he in order to distinguish between two different degrees of alienation: you stands for the exiled author here and now, he is the author there and then, in the China of the Cultural Revolution. The framing chapters, which describe episodes in the author’s exiled existence, are as factual and personally revealing as those dealing with his different roles during the Cultural Revolution. It is these framing chapters that enable the author to give his view on the meaning of human existence, the nature of literature, the conditions of authorship and, first and foremost, on the importance of remembering and of imagination for the author’s view of reality.The foundation for Gao Xingjian’s pioneering activity as a dramatist was laid in the first half of the nineteen-eighties when he worked as artistic advisor, director of plays and playwright at the People’s Art Theatre in Peking, at that time considered to be the country’s foremost stage. Gao Xingjian’s plays are characterized by originality, in no way diminished by the fact that he has been influenced both by modern Western and traditional Chinese currents. His greatness as a dramatist lies in the manner in which he has succeeded in enriching these fundamentally different elements and making them coalesce to something entirely new.Dear Gao Xingjian: You did not leave China empty-handed. You have come to look on the native language which you brought with you when you left China as your true and real country. It gives me great joy to offer you, on behalf of the Swedish Academy, our warmest congratulations. I will ask you now to receive, from the hands of His Majesty the King, this year’s Nobel Prize for Literature.

Nobel Lecture:

7 December 2000

The Case for Literature

I do not know if it is destiny that has brought me to this rostrum, but finds no other word for the fortunate circumstances that have contributed to it. The question of the existence of God, I wish to put aside. Whenever I am confronted with the question whose answer is hidden for me, I filled the deepest respect, despite the fact that I have always considered myself as atheist. A person can not be turned into a divine being, and it needs even less said that she can not replace God the Father himself. A world governed by a man must become increasingly chaotic and suffer increasingly difficult accidents. The century that began the same year as Nietzsche went away, the disasters induced by humans, signed dark pages of human history. But the foolish statements of a highly narcissistic philosopher can in no way be compared to the brutal acts of people of different kinds, which have been hailed as the People leader, Reich head and Nation’s highest leader, without the slightest report has been guilty of. I will not abuse this literary forum for wasting words on politics and history. I only want to take this opportunity to give expression to an individual writers and an individual’s perception. The author is an ordinary man, but possibly slightly more sensitive … intolerant people are often much weaker than others. When an author does not do the spokesman for the people and not behave as an incarnation of justice, his voice can not be other than weak. But it is precisely the individual voice that comes closest to the truth. What I am here to say is that literature can not be anything other than an individual person’s voice, and so it’s always been. A literature that has turned into a hymn to the fatherland, the nation’s standard-bearer, to a political party’s throat and tongue or to representatives of a social class or group, such literature has lost its true essence. Although it with all available means and with song and dance about spreading throughout the world has lost its raison d’etre and downgraded to a tool of power and divergent interests. The century that has just gone for ever, it is precisely this incident that occurred in the literature. Policy and Forces burn iron has in the past century, added the literature far worse suffering than during any other period in the past. The oppression and the slings and arrows that the authors have been subjected to has also been worse than ever. If the literature wish to safeguard its existence and avoid becoming a tool of policy, it must return to the individual human voice, for literature is based primarily from individual feelings and experiences. Thus is not to say that literature must shut itself off from politics. The idea, as well as the claim that literature must engage in politics, has been the source of a controversial debate on the “trend” in literary works and on the question of whether the author gives expression to a particular political view or not. During the previous century literature was hit hard by the controversy. The clash between tradition and renewal, or between conservatism and revolution, which is associated with the controversy, contributed to the literature became the subject of a debate on the choice between a progressive or reactionary policies, and it was then that ideologies began to haunt. When ideologies had joined with power and thus could exert a real influence affected both literature and the individual writer. The 1900-century Chinese literature seems so extremely monotonous and so impotent that it finally seemed to give up the spirit because it’s completely dominated by politics: literature revolution and the revolutionary literature swept both literature and the individual writer to the place of execution. The attacks in the name of the revolution was directed against China’s traditional culture was sidelined the books were banned and burned in public. The author of over one hundred years they were executed, thrown in jail, expelled or deported to labor camps are too many to count. Under no imperial dynasty in Chinese history, the rulers are guilty of similar persecution. This created immense difficulties for the Chinese literature. Author’s freedom to engage in creative activities were completely curtailed. A writer who wants to acquire the freedom of thinking must either remain silent or go into exile. But for an author, wishing to express their thoughts in writing, the patvungna silence tantamount to suicide. In order to avoid committing suicide or ending up on the list of banned writers, the writers who want to make its voice heard go into exile. A look back at history in both East and West shows that it always acted in line so. The examples are many: [The ancient Chinese poet] Qu Yuan, Dante, Joyce, Thomas Mann, Solzjenitsyn and the many intellectuals who went into exile after the massacre on the square adjacent to the Tiananmen gate in 1989. This is the fate that inevitably affects the poet and writer who wants to protect its own voice. Over the decades since Mao Zedong exerted its total dictatorship, it was not even possible to evade world. The mountain monasteries and temples during the feudal period had offered a refuge for [dissidents] skolarer were leveled, and those who secretly devoted to the authors risked their lives. For those who wanted to preserve his ability to think independently, only speaking to themselves, and also it must be done in the utmost secrecy. I want to underline that it was only when I had the opportunity to write that I realized how indispensable the literature is: it is literature that makes it possible for humans to keep their minds. This talking to themselves can be said to be the very origins of literature. Making full use language to communicate with others is of secondary importance. It is only when man lets his experiences and thoughts shaped in the language and then write them down as they are transformed into literature. Once this happens, the author has no view on the usefulness of what he or she writes, and can not imagine that the result can ever be published. The author continues to write because the writing brings great joy, compensation and consolation. My long roman mountain spirits, I began writing after my previous works were banned, even though they had already been subjected to strict self-censorship. I wrote it for myself in an attempt to alleviate my feelings of loneliness and had no hope that it would be published. When I think back on my activities as a writer, I submit that writing primary mission is to enable the author to confirm their own value. Questions about whether the work will be published and whether it will bring a response from the readers may be the future answer. I believe that literature arises from the author’s need to satisfy himself. Administration’s receipt of the readers is a later question, and the author himself has no opportunity to influence. Many immortal works of world literature history remained unreleased in the authors’ lives. How could these writers have been able to continue to write if not in actual writing had reached an acknowledgment of its value? The greatest novels in China’s literary history – Xiyouji (The trip to the Midwest), Shuihuzhuan (Stories from the marshlands), Jin Ping Mei (Jin Ping MEI) and Hongloumeng (The dream of the red pavilion) – were written by four champions, whose life fates are equally difficult explored as Shakespeare. The only document that is left is an autobiographical essay by Shi Naian [the alleged author of Shuihuzhuan]. If there they did as he himself says, that he wrote only for his own pleasure, how would he have been able to devote their whole life to write this massive work, not donated him any consideration while he was alive? Attitude is not in the same way with Kafka, before the time the man in the modern novel field, and Fernando Pessoa, one of 1900’s most profound poets? When they took refuge in the language, it was not to change the world. But they continued to turn their thoughts into words, fully aware of individual weakness. So strong is the magical power that language holds. Language is the finest utkristalliseringen of human civilization, so extraordinarily subtle, so wide and so elusive. It penetrates everywhere, pervades the human emotions and consciousness and makes it possible for her to attain knowledge of the world. Equally odd is the writing, which is able to convey literary works to the world and making it possible for isolated individuals to communicate with people from another culture and another time than their own. It is through the writing of the write and read the unconditional concurrency linked to the eternal values of literature itself. Personally, I hold certain distrust of the modern writers who in highlighting his own country’s culture. If I assume my own background, and from the language is mine, I find that I obviously have been marked by the Chinese cultural environment, which is so intimately linked with language, and that this in a certain way has shaped my consciousness, my thoughts and my way of giving expression to them. But an author’s creative activity begins precisely where the language is spoken, and then continue to depict what the language has not yet given full expression to. Anyone with language through engaging in creative activities do not at all paste on a pre-printed label, which clearly indicates his national allegiance. Literature knows no national borders and through translation, it may also violate the language barrier. When the literature well have exceeded the specific social practices and the relationships between people which are designed in different environments and at different times when is human nature, as revealed in the literary work, as common to all mankind. Moreover, any modern writer has received many influences from other cultures than his own. As a writer, who not only engaged in the write up tourist brochures, in highlighting his own country’s cultural characteristics, it can not fail to arouse mistrust of the reader. This literature that exceeds ideologies, boundaries and a national consciousness rooted can be compared to an individual’s existence is fundamentally independent of any ism. The circumstances in which human lives are of far greater importance than any erudite remarks and speculation about what life is. Literature is a full and unconditional compliance inhibition [and descriptive] of the difficult circumstances in which humans live. Any attempt to limit the literature depends on external factors, political, social, ethical and tradition-bound all of which aim to rock to and fit it in different frameworks, to serve as decoration. But the literature does not serve as decoration for power or something mondant sophistication in society. It has its own values, rooted in an aesthetic assessment. An aesthetic based assessment’s absolute conformity with human feelings is the only criterion that can be used as the basis for each of literary works. The valuation is different obviously from person to person, being human emotions are individually motivated. But in these subjective aesthetic values, you can actually discern generally accepted criteria. The critical ability to summon through industrious reading of literature can get the reader to read literary works again reach a true understanding of the poetic qualities, aesthetics, high ideals, laughable episodes, tragic events, fantasterier and the humor and irony that the work can accommodate. The poetic feeling of a work derived not only from the author’s emotional business. An author’s unbridled narcissism is a sort of teething, which are difficult to avoid a beginning stage. In addition, the emotional activities can be expressed in a variety of different perspectives. In the higher spheres is not up against a passionate free observing from a distance. The poetic feeling hidden when in this respect from a distance. If the observing eyes also scrutinize the author himself, while it hovers high above the people in the book and its author, is the author’s third eye, one as far as possible neutral eye. In this way, even disasters, and all garbage in the human world depicted in an intrusive way. While the author depicts the suffering and vile and sickening events, he can provoke feelings of compassion, love of life and strong affection. An aesthetic score, which is firmly rooted in human emotions, can probably never become outdated, even if courage in the literature, as in art, switching from one era to another. But the difference between the valuation of the literature and the fashionable courage lies in the fact that the latter only appreciate what is new. It is the principle underlying the constant changes in the market. Book Market is no exception. But if the author in his aesthetic judgments would follow market volatility, it would be tantamount to the literature beginge suicide. In today’s consumer society, it seems to me appropriate that the literature takes a chilly fence. Ten years ago, when I after seven years of work had finished writing the novel mountain spirits, I wrote a short essay in which I advocate a literature of the following types. The literature has nothing to do with politics, it is solely a matter for the author as an individual. Compliance, the withdrawal in memory of a past experience, some invented stories, feelings of different classes, specifically for some kind of mind, all this can satisfy his needs for their thoughts. When the author speaks for itself, or write, others can listen to him, if they so wish, or read his works, if they so wish. The author does not appear as the spokesman for his people and he is not worthy to be praised as an idol. He is not a criminal or a people’s enemy. That he sometimes gets in trouble because of their work because the others require that to be taken. When leaders need to create any enemies to divert people’s attention are the authors who sacrificed. Worse still, some bewildered author considers it a great honor to have been sacrificed. “In fact, the relationship between the author and his readers such as that they never have to meet or socialize with each other: it is enough that they met through his work, in a spiritual plane. But one essential requirement of human activity as the literary form of writing : Author and the reader must face each other of their own will. That is why literature has no obligations to the masses. There is nothing to prevent that we give the literature that has recovered its original essence as “coolly objective”. Its raison d’etre consists therein that it provides humanity with a purely spiritual employment, which reaches beyond the satisfaction of material needs. It kind of literature has obviously not begun to provide today. But in the past, the main guard against political power and pressure from society familiar ideas, whereas today must also fight against the consumer society commercial valuation standards. In order to survive, it must learn that with good courage to endure loneliness. A writer who engage in this kind of authorship has been difficult to support themselves and therefore must earn their bread in other ways. Therefore, the authors of the sort considered a luxury, a sort of satisfactory purely spiritual needs. To this coolly objective literature to be published author must rely on their friends’ efforts. Example ensuing is Cao Xueqin [author of the Chinese novel Hongloumeng] and Kafka. Their work could not appear in the authors’ lifetime, they did not give rise to literary movements and the authors were not as clearly shining stars in the community. Author of the sort lived and worked in the fringes of society or of its slots. Without the hope of charge and without seeking the society’s appreciation devoted themselves assiduously to a spiritual activity, which they found pleasure in. The chilly objective literature is a literature that goes into exile in order to survive, a literature that refuses to allow itself to strangle the society, striving to save himself on the spiritual plane. If a nation does not see fit to make way for such a useless literature affects not only the writer: it is also deeply tragic for the nation itself. “

That I am in my lifetime have been lucky enough to the Swedish Academy awarded this very honorable price depends in large part to many friends all over the world for several years, selflessly and has assiduously translated, issued, raised and reviewed my work. When the list of those friends is too long, I can not thank each of them. I would also like to thank France, which has received me with open arms. In this country, where literature and art is booming, I have given freedom to devote myself to creative work, and where I have also my readers and my audience. I count my blessings that I no longer need to feel alone, even though the business I am in the highest degree requires solitude. I would also say that life is not always a celebration. Not all countries in the world that Sweden has enjoyed peace for 180 years. The terrible disaster that struck the world in the last century has not created the immunity of the century that has just begun. The memory can not inherit the same way as biological genes. Despite his intelligence, humanity is not wise enough to persuade learn from the past. Human intelligence can indeed lead to horrific outbreak, which threatens her existence. Humanity is certainly not the constant progress. The story – and here I must talk about the history of human civilization – is not steady progress. From stagnation in the European Middle Ages to the decline in modern times has characterized the Asian continent culminated the chaotic developments in the two world wars of the 1900s, when the techniques were used to kill people became increasingly sophisticated. The human civilization has not evolved in step with the achievements of science and technology fields. Neither the scientific methods, trying to explain the story, or a history, who with the help of fraudulent dialectics trying to draw conclusions accordingly, has been able to explain human behavior. When the fanatical interest in utopias, which lasted for more than a hundred years, has gone out, and dust from the constant revolutions have put themselves, is it not reasonable that those who were fortunate enough to survive suffer bitterness? Negro of a negation does not necessarily lead to affirmative, and revolutionary ideas have not always been realized. The utopia of the new society based on the premise that the old world have basically destroyed. When the revolutionary samhallsteorien applied to literature, it means that the Garden was originally designed for creative work turned into a battlefield, where representatives of the older generation is struck down, and traditional culture trampled underfoot. Everything must start from zero, only the new praise. Literature explained the historical development as a continuum of antisocial gambit. The author can not actually play the role of the Demiurge and should not be presumptuous enough to regard himself as a Christ Gestalt. It would not only mean that he himself lost mind, it would also turn his world to a hallucination: he would find itself in a purgatory where nothing lives longer would be possible. If it is the others who are hell, he himself would not go there if he lost sight of the self? Except that he was sacrificed on the altar of the future which others would be forced to share his fate. We may not have too urgent to summarize the twentieth century history. If we are trapped in the ruins of an ideological construction has been the historical development of no value. This long people will need to restore order. A writer is not a prophet, the important thing is that he lives in the moment, he makes a clean sweep of all fraud, refrain from wishful thinking, acquire a clear understanding of [what is happening in] the present moment and at the same time, scrutinize himself. All the difficulties and oppression all depends mostly on external factors, but exacerbated by an individual’s weakness and anxiety, which seems also to harm others. Then mankind behavior is so difficult to understand, and then the individual has been difficult to attain knowledge of literature itself can not be anything other than a result of self-respect. During the course considerations may be a faint glimmer of awareness brighten the self. Literature does not seek to subvert society, it sees as an urgent task to detect and obvious truths in this world, as people rarely know or have insufficient knowledge about, or they think they know, but in fact has no knowledge of. The truth is undeniable literature’s most fundamental quality. The new century has already occurred. Whether it is new or not let me be unsaid. It is time for the literary revolution and the revolutionary literature to turn up with the fragmented ideologies. The illusions for over a century has surrounded social utopia have been dispelled to the wind. Exempt from the one or the other ismens shackles should return to the literature [to depict] the human life difficult, a delicate, which has not changed in any further extent, and in all times, will serve as the theme for literature. We live in a time with no predictions and promises, and there I find myself to be quite in order. The author should no longer play the role of prophets and judges. The many predictions in the previous century have proved to be fraudulent. We do not need to produce some superstitious units in the future is concerned, it is better to await developments. For the author, it is better to act as a witness and as far as possible, produce the truth. I would not have said that literature is tantamount to a record of reality. We must be clear to us that the evidence in the records of reality provides very little, as well as to the motives behind the actions and events usually remain forborgade. But when the literature face the truth, it can not omit anything reveal what is contained within the human heart and follow the entire process as this creates. Such is the force which takes the literature, under the premise that the author reveals the truth about human existence and not be able to invent something together. Author’s ability to clearly discern the truth determines the quality of his work. The ability can not be replaced by a game with the language or of some cleverly designed stylistic tricks. There are a variety of opinions about what the truth is in effect, and there are also many different ways of approaching the truth. But a glance can determine whether the author’s depiction of life diversity gives a false image or a true picture without omissions. That using semantic speculation determine what is true or not belong in an ideologically entrenched literary criticism, whose principles and dogmas do not have much with the creative literature to do. Whether the writer’s works have been faced with the truth or not is a matter that concerns not only his creative method, it is also intimately linked with his approach to writing. If what he writes is true, it means that his writing has a good faith. Truth is not only a literary value appreciation, it also has an ethical meaning. The author has not undertaken the task of moral education of their readers, his job is to clear [the truth about] the huge numbers of creatures that can fit into the greed of the universe in which the Buddha spoke, and at the same time expose itself, without the slightest reservation, and show up the secrets that are hidden in the human heart. For the author is truth relative to the literature as a manifestation of ethics, an ethics literature of the highest dignitaries. When a writer with a rigorous approach to writing is in the pen is also the literary fiction from the premise that it must give a true picture of human life. It is this which has brought vitality to many masterpieces of world literature. That is why the Greek tragedies and Shakespeare will never ever become obsolete. The literature produces not only copies of reality: the crowd during the real surface and reaches down to its depths. It reveals what is false, it hovers high above the everyday events and exhibits to INSPECTION the causal connection that is contained within its wide field of view. Even the imagination finds expression in literature. But these spiritual journeys are not idle talk. A fantasy, which is not associated with true feelings, and fiction, which has no roots in life experiences, becomes pale and weak. A work, which the author does not even believe in myself, can certainly not make an impression on the reader. It is obviously not only the experience of daily life as reflected in the literature, and the author is not only limited to their own experiences. What he has heard and seen and what has fortalts in previous works, he may be using language to make their own experiences. It is a further example of the language’s magical force. Like some magical and prayer houses language a force that make your heart palpitate and your body will tremble. Language arts is precisely then that the narrator can upload their own experiences to others. It does not limit itself to a system of signs, a semantic structure and grammatical constructions. If you forget the live narrator, who hides behind the language, turning the interpretation of the text’s meaning to an intellectual game. Language is not just a bearer of beliefs and ideas, it also appeals to the sense and intuition. That is why a set of characters and information data can not replace a live person’s language. Behind the words are pronounced the speaker’s motivations and YEARNING, his intonation and his mood, as everything can not be described by using a semantic or rhetorical device concepts. Language meaning in a literary text comes to full expression only when it is the preferred choice of a living human being. The text must be perceived by the ear and not only the tools we use when we think. Humans need the language not only to transfer his thoughts but also to listen to and learn about himself. This allows me to paraphrase a statement by Descartes and use it on the author: “I give expression to my thoughts, therefore I am.” Self-writing can be the author himself, which may be identical with the narrator or with any person in the book. It may also be he or she is, it can also be you. Narrator can uppspaltas on the first, second or third person. The determination of subjektspronominets identity is at the starting point for the expression of feelings and thoughts, from which three different narrative design can be formed. It is in search of their particular narrative method that the author expresses his feelings and thoughts. In my novels I let people stand out as personal pronouns. With the help of the pronouns I, you and he / she describes and I observe the same chief. The same person is represented by different personal pronouns. It forframligande created when the same person is represented by three different pronouns provides the actors with a broad psychological place. I have used the correspondence between the different pronouns in my dramas. Novels and dramas have always written and will always be attributed. Any attempt to dodforklara a literary or artistic genre is futile. Language, which was born simultaneously with human civilization, is as strange as life itself, and its expressive power is inexhaustible. Author’s mission is to discover and develop language latent capacity. The author is not a demiurge, he can not destroy the world, despite being so old and old-fashioned. He has also not force enough to build a new and ideal world, despite the fact that the world we live in is so strange and incomprehensible to the human intellect. But he can more or less put something fresh and new, add something to what the previous writer may have said, or to pick up where former writer ended. The literature could be used for subversive purposes is idle talk of those who espouse the idea of a literary revolution. Literature knows no death, and the authors can not be turned down. Each author’s works have their rightful place on the bookshelf. He survives as long as his works find readers. If a single work of a writer preserved in the vast library of mankind and in the past can find a reader, it should serve the writer of great consolation. But literature, whether one considers it from the author or the reader’s point of view, is something that is completed in the moment and that is what gives it its value. The authors writing for the future is a power pagers, which are deceiving both themselves and others. This literature is for the living and is also a confirmation of the now in which they live. It is this eternal now, this affirmation of the individual human life, giving the literature its unwavering raison d’etre, if you now have to seek a justification of this vast, in itself dormant reality. It is only when, without considering its supply, or when one finds joy in writing, but to be clear about why or for whom you write, that writing seems an absolute necessity, it is only then that literature becomes. It is in the very nature of literature to be completely useless. That the literary creation has come to be regarded as a profession is an unfortunate result of the division of labor in modern society and a bitter fruit for the writer to bite in. This applies above all the time we are living in now, when the economy is so dominant that even the book has become a commodity. On this boundless and unbridled market, there is no place for the old days free literary associations and literary movements, to say nothing of individual and isolated writer. If an author refuses to give in to pressure from market forces, refuses to sink so low that he makes cultural products as fashionable needs, then he must support themselves by other means. The literature has nothing to do with best-sellers and Top Ten lists, but still involved in television and other media rather than to reklammakeri its authors. Freedom to write must not be forgiven, and it can not be bought: it responds to a single needs of the author himself. Such is freedom’s price. Rather than say that the Buddha fit in one’s own heart should be said that there is freedom to fit there. It depends on yourself how you want to use that freedom. If you are willing to change it to something else takes the freedom to flee like a bird, because such is the essence of freedom. The author continues to write, but given the consideration represents a confirmation of his own value. It is obviously also a challenge against society. But the challenge is not an elaborate gesture. The author has no need to boast itself to look like a hero or champion. When the heroes and fighters pull out of the battle, they will make it for a noble cause or for the glory of battle gives them, and it is something beyond literature ramarken. It is through language that the author addresses its challenge to society; the language must be rooted among the people in his works and in those situations in which they occur, otherwise it will be detrimental to the literature. Literature is not synonymous with anger, the anger that the individual author bears within itself may not be reflected in the allegations. It is only when the author’s feelings blend into the literary works that this may be viable and escape to notas of the time. It is therefore more accurate to say that it is the literary work, and not its author, who is challenging society. Works constantly maintains its timeliness is a powerful response to the author’s own time and social environment. When the alarm from the events in the literary works have been responsive and when its characters have been silent is the author’s life-like voice, if still capable of attracting readers. Challenges of this nature are certainly not able to change society, what happens is that a lone individual with the assistance of a gesture, which need not be so striking, but still somehow different from the ordinary, trying to exceed the conventional limits has cut into his social environment. Accordingly, the author also expresses a certain pride in being human. Surely it would be good sad about the human civilization’s development would only comply completely incomprehensible laws and blind currents flowing than here than there, without a single man finge opportunity to express a dissenting opinion. In this respect, literature serves as a supplement to history. When the story imposes on the people their laws, without giving them the opportunity to choose, the individual must make its voice heard. Humanity is not just a story, it has also received literature for free. Thus, the man, despite their minimal, begavats with a little self-confidence. Ladies Academy Members! I want to thank you for that you have given this Nobel Prize for literature, for a literature that has not escaped the suffering that has affected humanity, which did not have escaped political persecution, but nevertheless has refused to submit to. I thank you for that you have given this prestigious prize to an inattentive authors, who has remained distant from market manipulation, but which nevertheless deserves to be read. At the same time, I want to thank the Swedish Academy which has allowed me to appear in this platform, against which the world’s gaze is directed, which wanted to listen to me, and who has had a weak man raise his voice brittle, which have rarely been heard in the media, and talk to world. I imagine that this is consistent with the Nobel Prize purpose. I want to thank you all for having given me this opportunity.


En Torno a La Literatura

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