O Nobel literário 2012
Autor: Sergio Jones | Publicado: 2012-10-11T17:00:00-07:00











Nobel da Literatura para o chinês Mo Yan




O Prémio Nobel da Literatura 2012 foi atribuído ao escritor chinês Mo Yan.




«Com um realismo alucinatório, [Mo Yan] funde contos populares, história e o contemporâneo», justificou a Academia Sueca, no anúncio do laureado.







A Academia explicou ainda que, «com uma mistura de fantasia e realidade, perspetivas históricas e sociais», Mo Yan criou um universo que «faz lembrar a complexidade da escrita de William Faulkner e Gabriel Garcia Marquez, ao mesmo tempo que procura um ponto de partida na literatura chinesa antiga e na tradição oral».







Mo Yan, de 57 anos, pseudónimo do escritor Guan Moye, tem publicada em Portugal a obra «Peito grande, ancas largas».







Mo Yan recebe o Nobel da Literatura 12 anos depois do autor chinês Gao Xingjian ter sido distinguido com o mesmo prémio.







O Nobel da Literatura, considerado o mais prestigiado das letras, tem um valor monetário de 926 mil euros.







De acordo com a Academia Sueca, a crise econômica internacional ditou uma redução do valor do prêmio, que desceu de 1,1 milhões de euros para 926 mil euros.










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LONDON —&nbsp;Mo Yan, a wildly prolific and internationally renowned Chinese author who considers himself nonpolitical but whose embrace by the ruling Communist Party has drawn criticism from dissident writers, was on Thursday awarded the&nbsp;2012 Nobel Prize in Literature.





In his novels and short stories, Mr. Mo paints sprawling, intricate portraits of Chinese rural life, often using flights of fancy — animal narrators, the underworld, elements of fairy tales — that evoke the techniques of South American magical realists. His work has been widely translated and is readily available in the West, but he is perhaps best known abroad for “Red Sorghum” (1987; published in English in 1993) which takes on issues like the Japanese occupation, bandit culture and the harsh lives of rural Chinese, and which in 1987 was made into a&nbsp;movie&nbsp;directed by Zhang Yimou.

“Through a mixture of fantasy and reality, historical and social perspectives, Mo Yan has created a world reminiscent in its complexity of those in the writings of William Faulkner and Gabriel García Márquez, at the same time finding a departure point in old Chinese literature and in oral tradition,” the Swedish Academy said in the citation that accompanied the award.

Mr. Mo has not been shy of lacing his fiction with social criticism, but at the same time he has carefully navigated whatever invisible line the government considers unacceptable. He has also appeared at times to embrace the establishment, and serves as vice chairman of the party-run Chinese Writers’ Association. Yet when the émigré novelist and critic&nbsp;Gao Xingjian&nbsp;won the literature prize in 2000&nbsp;and was criticized for having given up his Chinese citizenship, Mr. Mo publicly defended him.

He is the just the second Chinese resident citizen to win a Nobel; the first was the jailed dissident writer and political agitator&nbsp;Liu Xiaobo, who&nbsp;won the peace prize&nbsp;two years ago. But in contrast to the Chinese government’s&nbsp;anger over that award, which included refusing to allow Mr. Liu to accept it and exacting diplomatic penalties against Norway, the country that awards the peace prize, Beijing reacted to this one as an international vindication.

The announcement was celebrated on the China Central Television evening news broadcast, which took the unusual step of breaking into its regular news coverage for a special report. The populist state-run Global Times newspaper immediately placed a“special coverage” page, clearly prepared in advance, on its English-language Web site.

When the organizers contacted Mr. Mo, said Peter Englund, the secretary of the Swedish Academy, “he said he was overjoyed and scared,” The Associated Press reported.

The son of farmers, Mr. Mo was born in 1955 in Shandong Province, in the east, where much of his fiction is set. He became a teenager during the tumult of Cultural Revolution, leaving school to work first on a farm and then in a cottonseed oil factory. He began writing, he has said, a few years later while serving in the People’s Liberation Army. His first short story was published in 1981.

The author’s given name is Guan Moye; Mo Yan, which means “don’t speak,” is actually a pen name that reflects, he has said, the time in which he grew up, a time when criticizing those in power could be ruinous.

“At that time in China, lives were not normal so my father and mother told me not speak outside,” he said during a cultural forum at the University of California, Berkeley, in 2011. “If you speak outside, and say what you think, you will get into trouble. So I listened to them and did not speak.”

Critics in the West have lavished praise on Mr. Mo. “Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out,” a huge, ambitious work narrated by five successive animals who are themselves reincarnations of a man controlled by Yama, the lord of the underworld, “covers almost the entire span of his country’s revolutionary experience,” almost like a documentary of the times, the Chinese scholar&nbsp;Jonathan Spence wrote&nbsp;in The New York Times in 2008.

“Yet although one can say that the political dramas narrated by Mo Yan are historically faithful to the currently known record, ‘Life and Death’ remains a wildly visionary and creative novel, constantly mocking and rearranging itself and jolting the reader with its own internal commentary,” Mr. Spence wrote, calling the work “harsh and gritty, raunchy and funny.”

In its citation, the Swedish Academy noted that many of Mr. Mo’s works, including “The Garlic Ballads” (1988, published in English in 1995) and “The Republic of Wine” (1992, published in English in 2000) “have been judged subversive because of their sharp criticism of contemporary Chinese society.”

Other works include “Big Breasts and Wide Hips” (1996, published in English in 2004) — which was briefly banned before going on to become a huge best seller in China — and “Sandalwood Death” (2004, to be published in English in 2013). Mr. Mo’s most recent published work, called “Wa” in Chinese (2009) “illuminates the consequences of China’s imposition of a single-child policy,” the academy said.

Michel Hockx, professor of Chinese at the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London, said that Mr. Mo was part of a generation of post-Cultural Revolution writers who began looking at Chinese society, particularly in the countryside, through new, nonparty-line eyes.

“For a very long time Chinese realism was of a socialist realist persuasion, so it had to be filled with ideological and political messages,” Mr. Hockx said in an interview. “But instead of writing about socialist superheroes,” Mr. Mo has filled his work with real characters with real frailties, Mr. Hockx continued, while at the same time portraying rural China as a “magical place where wonderful things happened, things that seemed to come out of mythology and fairy tales.”

But fellow writers, especially those outside the establishment, mistrust Mr. Mo’s failure to take a political stand. Last summer, he was&nbsp;criticized for joining a group of authors&nbsp;who transcribed by hand a 1942 speech by Mao Zedong. The speech, which ushered in decades of government control over Chinese writers and artists, has been described as a death warrant for those who refused to subsume their talents in the Communist Party.

He was also criticized for attending the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2009 after Beijing barred a number of dissident writers.

Mr. Mo later gave a speech at the fair that provided a window into his complex thinking.

“A writer should express criticism and indignation at the dark side of society and the ugliness of human nature, but we should not use one uniform expression,” he said. “Some may want to shout on the street, but we should tolerate those who hide in their rooms and use literature to voice their opinions.”



Sarah Lyall reported from London and Andrew Jacobs from Beijing. Edward Wong contributed reporting from Beijing.&nbsp;








Grenouilles









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Sobre a obra





A única obra do Nobel da Literatura 2012 publicada em Portugal - "Peito Grande, Ancas Largas", editada em 2007 pela Ulisseia - pode ser comprada na livraria Bulhosa por 10 euros. Na Fnac, na Bertrand e na Wook, a obra encontra-se temporariamente indisponível.

No entanto, se não se importar de ler Mo Yan noutra língua que não o português pode encontrar edições importadas do autor&nbsp;na Fnac, na Bertrand, na Wook&nbsp;e ainda na Amazon. A edição portuguesa é o único título de Mo Yan vendido na Bulhosa.

O catálogo da Fnac dedicado a Mo Yan inclui três obras do autor, mas todas elas estão atualmente indisponíveis: a edição de 2007 da Ulisseia de "Peito Grande, Ancas Largas" (10 euros), a edição em inglês da mesma obra, "Big Breasts, Wide Hips" (12,86 euros) e&nbsp;a edição francesa "Grenouilles" (23,32 euros).

Em inglês,&nbsp;podem ser encontrados no mercado&nbsp;"Red Sorghum" (9,22 euros na Wook), "The Garlic Ballads" (10,54 euros na Wook e na Bertrand), "Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out" (14,24 euros na Bertrand e na Wook), "Big Breasts, Wide Hips" (11,86 euros na Wook e na Bertrand), "Shifu, You'll Do Anything For A Laugh" (9,22 euros na Wook e na Bertrand).

Em francês, pode encontrar "Le Radis de Cristal" (7.00 euros na Wook e na Bertrand), "La Dure Loi du Karma" (13,16 euros na Wook), "La Belle A Dos D'Ane Dans L'Avenue De Chang'An" (15,26 euros na Wook e na Bertrand), "Le Clan Du Sorgho" (14,84 euros), "Les Treize Pas" (23,09 euros na Wook e na Bertrand), "Grenouilles" (22,45 euros na Bertrand), "Le Chantier" (7,66 euros na Wook), "Beaux Seins, Belles Fesses" (13,43 euros na Wook), "La Carte au Trésor" (6,36 euros na Wook), "Le Supplice Du Santal" (11,41 euros na Wook), "Le Maitre A De Plus En Plus D'Humour" (11,82 euros na Bertrand e na Wook) e "La Mélopée de l'ail paradisiaque" (disponível na Amazon).&nbsp;










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Lembrar às pessoas que ficaram surpreendidas com a escolha que o Nobel da Literatura, como aliás a generalidade dos prémios literários, não tem nada a ver com o mérito literário do autor ou da obra. Foi sempre assim. Umas vezes a escolha vem ao encontro do nosso gosto Lagerlöf, Yeats, Mann, Pirandello, O’Neill, du Gard, Gide, Faulkner, Russell, Hemingway, Camus, Pasternak, Quasimodo, Perse, Steinbeck, Seféris, Sartre, Sachs, Beckett, Soljenítsin, Neruda, Montale, Bellow, Singer, Milosz, Canetti, Márquéz, Golding, Simon, Brodsky, Mahfouz, Paz, Morrison, Heaney, Szymborska, Naipaul, Pinter, Lessing, Le Clézio e Llosa), outras não. Tão simples como isto.


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Beaux seins, belles fesses&nbsp;,&nbsp;Les enfants de la famille Shanggun


Le maître a de plus en plus d'humour








Les treize pas





La Belle à dos d’âne dans l’avenue de Chang’An



La joie



La dure loi du Karma



Le chantier








Les quarante et un coups de canon







L'écrivain chinois Mo Yan a été récompensé du prix Nobel de littérature. Deux ans après le prix Nobel de la paix pour Liu Xiaobo, Pékin devrait à nouveau serrer les dents. Car, même si le romancier n'est pas un dissident, il ne ménage pas ses critiques envers le régime.



«Ne pas parler» (la traduction chinoise de son pseudonyme), mais écrire, encore et toujours, jusqu'à la dernière goutte d'encre, pour témoigner de la Chine passée et présente. Fils d'une famille de paysans pauvres qui a subi les affres du Grand Bond en avant et de la Révolution culturelle, rien ne semblait prédestiner Guan Moye à devenir un jour prix Nobel de littérature. A partir du début 1980 et «Radis de Cristal», ce retraité de l''Armée populaire de libération au style qui évoque Rabelais, Gabriel Garcia Marquez et William Faulkner selon le traducteur américain Howard Goldblatt et l'Académie royale de Suède, Mo Yan n'a pourtant eu de cesse de mettre en perspective et en mots la vie simple des habitants de la province du Shandong, région de l'Est de la Chine, devenant l’un des plus grands écrivains de son temps. En 1987, le réalisateur Zhang Yimou porte à l'écran «Le Clan du Sorgho» (le titre du film est «Le Sorgho rouge»), Ours d’or au Festival de Berlin en 1988. L’auteur de Gaomi sera dès lors traduit dans de nombreuses langues dont le Français et sa notoriété internationale de croître. Ses derniers jours, son nom apparaissait parmi les favoris pour le prix Nobel, avec l'écrivain japonais Haruki Murakami.




Parmi les œuvres publiées dans l'Hexagone, citons «Le Pays de l'alcool», «Le Supplice du santal», «Beaux seins, belles fesses» et «Grenouilles», tous parus au Seuil. Si l'homme est membre du Parti communiste chinois et n'est pas un dissident comme peuvent l'être Ai Weiwei ou Liu Xiaobo, le prix Nobel de la paix 2010, il n'a jamais versé dans l'apologie du régime de Pékin, critiquant la corruption des cadres du parti ou se frottant à la censure pour les passages les plus sexuellement audacieux de son œuvre. Car au-delà du vent de l'Histoire qui souffle dans ses longs récits, Mo Yan s'intéresse au bouillonnement de la vie, aux errements du cœur et de la chair.


LE BOUILLONNEMENT DELA VIE ET DE LA CHAIR

Dans une interview accordée à «L'Humanité» en 2004, il racontait sa vocation. «Je suis né à la campagne dans le Shandong. (...) Comme l’ensemble des Chinois à cette époque, nous vivions dans la misère. (...) Un voisin qui était étudiant m’avait dit que la vie des écrivains était bonne en Chine et qu’on pouvait manger des raviolis à tous les repas. Dès lors j’ai rêvé d’écrire. Plus les difficultés s’amoncelaient et plus j’en rêvais. (…) L’armée était une voie pour y parvenir. (...) Je me suis engagé en 1976. Dès lors j’étais libéré de la faim, je pouvais penser à autre chose. Lorsque je montais la garde, j’écrivais en pensée. Mes supérieurs disaient que j’étais un bon soldat parce que je restais immobile. C’est dans une chambrée que j’ai écrit mes premières nouvelles. Ma plume s’est emballée, j’ai poursuivi mon éducation dans une école de l’armée puis à l’université de Beida. Mais rien ne pourra faire oublier les douleurs de l’enfance.» Écrire, encore et toujours, jusqu'à la dernière goutte d'encre et de vie.


Un extrait de «Beaux seins, belles fesses» de Mo Yan (édition Le Seuil)

«Ma mère, à qui avait été injecté un produit hémostatique, finit par revenir à elle. Au premier coup d’œil, elle repéra le petit zizi entre mes jambes, tel un ver à soie, et son regard sombre se mit soudain à briller. Elle me prit dans ses bras et me couvrit de baisers comme une poule qui picore des grains de riz. Je pleurai d'une voix stridente, ouvrant les lèvres à la recherche de son téton. Elle me le fourra dans la bouche. Je tétai de toutes mes forces, mais aucun lait ne vint, seulement le goût du sang. Je pleurai de plus belle. Le bébé qui était sorti avant moi - ma huitième grande sœur - pleurait d'une voix rauque. Ma mère nous posa côte à côte et descendit du kang en prenant appui sur le bord. Elle vacilla jusqu'à la jarre et puisa de l'eau avec une louche. Elle découvrit alors avec stupeur les cadavres qui remplissaient la cour. L'ânesse et son mulet tremblaient près des claies à arachides. A ce moment, les grandes sœurs arrivèrent, affolées. Pleurnichant, épuisées, elles coururent auprès de ma mère, puis s'effondrèrent pêle-mêle à même le sol. C'est de la cheminée de notre maison que s'éleva la première fumée après le désastre. Ma mère força le coffre de notre grand-mère et en sortit des œufs, des jujubes, du sucre candi, ainsi qu'un morceau de vieux ginseng conservé là depuis des années. Elle jeta le tout dans la marmite. L'eau se mit à bouillir, faisant tournoyer les œufs. Ma mère appela mes sœurs et les fit asseoir autour d'une soupière. Elle puisa le contenu de la marmite, le déposa dans la soupière. "Mangez, les enfants!" dit-elle.

Puis elle me donna le sein. Je tétai ce lait, grandiose et magnifique liquide où se mêlaient les goûts du jujube, du sucre candi et de l’œuf. J'ouvris les yeux. Tout excitées, mes grandes sœurs me regardaient. Je les voyais indistinctement. Je bus jusqu'à la dernière goutte le lait du sein de ma mère et, bercé par les pleurs rauques de ma huitième sœur, refermai les yeux. J'entendis ma mère prendre ma sœur dans ses bras et lui dire en soupirant: "Toi alors, tu es de trop."»





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http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/gallery/2012/oct/11/mo-yan-nobel-prize-literature-best-books











































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