The family of red sorghum

Author: Mo Yan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: It is an anti-Japanese story told from a folk perspective. This folk stance is first reflected in the plot framework and character portrayals of the work. Descriptions of the Anti-Japanese War are not uncommon in contemporary Chinese literature, but Red Sorghum differs from previous revolutionary historical war novels in that it uses the form of a virtual family's memories to depict the folk militia organized by the bandit commander Yu Zhankao, as well as the various wild stories that take place in the rural world of Gaomi Northeast Township. The plot of this novel is woven together by two storylines: the main storyline describes the cause and process of the folk militia ambushing a Japanese convoy; the latter is linked by Yu Zhankao's love story with Dai Fenglian before the war. When Dai Fenglian got married, Yu Zhankao served as a sedan chair bearer, trying to flirt with her along the way, and led his men to kill a bandit who wanted to rob the sedan chair. Later, when Dai Fenglian returned for a visit, he ambushed her by the roadside and took her into the sorghum fields for a wild union. From then on, the two began an passionate and ecstatic love affair. Next, Yu Zhankao killed Dai Fenglian's leper husband, officially became a bandit, and also became her lover. It is not difficult to see that in this storyline, a vibrant folk passion is always highlighted, one that embraces the intoxication of sexuality and violence, with its essence rooted in unrestrained, wild vitality. This clearly transcends the limitations of political ideology, offering a direct gaze and free expression of the folk world. The other anti-Japanese storyline begins with the brutal skinning to death of Lao He, the long-term laborer in Dai Fenglian's family, ordered by the Japanese, and ends with Yu Zhankao, in retaliation, raising a bandit army to ambush a Japanese convoy on the Jiaoping Highway, thus launching a folk war participated in entirely by bandits and villagers. The entire battle process reflects a folk desire for violent resistance for survival, which largely weakens the political coloration of historical warfare, reducing it to a naturalistic struggle for survival.
In summary, Red Sorghum follows the thematic patterns of the folk themselves in its plot construction, even though it tells the story of the Anti-Japanese War, it primarily highlights the powerful and vivid violence and sexuality within the folk world. Relatedly, in character development, the novel also rejects the traditional binary opposition of ideological dualism, such as portraying Yu Zhankao, who appears as "my grandfather," as a dual identity—both bandit leader and anti-Japanese hero—and exaggerating a rough, violent, yet (primordial sense of justice) and life passion in his character. Similar untamed figures appeared in modern historical novels of the 1950s-1970s, but they were always paired with a orthodox hero embodying political and moral standards to convey the ideological content prescribed by the system. In Red Sorghum, however, Yu Zhankao is the only prominent main hero, and his untamed flaws and heroic qualities are neither judged nor corrected by any political standards, but rather presented authentically, revealing the essence of the folk. These characteristics are also reflected in the portrayal of other characters like "my grandmother" Dai Fenglian and Lao He. For example, "my grandmother's" warmth, fullness, boldness, and decisiveness embody the beauty of a woman; Lao He's loyalty, perseverance, and unyielding nature as a farmer; and "my father" Xiao Duguan's reckless impulsiveness—all are imbued with a folk abandon and vitality. Because the narrator portrays these characters as his own family elders, they also embody a freedom and simplicity rarely seen in revolutionary historical stories. This makes the novel's character development and emotional resonance strongly express a tendency to identify with folk values.
It is precisely because of the author's value (value orientation) that (veneration of life) and freedom, that the killing and robbery of "my grandfather," the wild love of "my grandfather" and "my grandmother," and the wild and untamed personalities and behaviors of other characters can naturally create a powerful and rustic beauty. Red Sorghum creates a vibrant and vivid folk world in the creation of modern historical war themes, and in this sense, it can also be said that the novel is not actually about historical warfare but rather about the author's () in the folk discourse space. At the beginning of the novel, the narrator delivers an impassioned lament, extolling his hometown and his heroic ancestors, calling their deeds and heroic tragedies "making us these unworthy descendants seem insignificant, and as I progress, I truly feel the degeneration of our bloodline." This lament runs throughout the novel, becoming increasingly intense and moving, and undoubtedly reflects the author's view of the folk as an ideal state of existence. The folk is a place of freedom and lawlessness, a state of vigorous vitality and passionate abandon, a spirit of magnificence, gentleness, and simplicity—all sources of the freedom and charm people yearn for. The narrator contrasts this ideal folk state with real life, only to find that it is a past tense existence, and the heroic drama of Gaomi Northeast Township unfolds in a time already gone. This inevitably leaves him with regret, and he repeatedly expresses the sentiment that progress implies the degeneration of bloodline. Here, it clearly introduces a historical judgment scale entirely unrelated to political ideology or the intellectual tradition: viewing historical development and social realities from the folk perspective reveals a tendency toward the dispersion of vitality and the restriction of freedom. In Red Sorghum, this regret and lament, in turn, reinforce the idealization and praise of the once-existent folk state, giving it a more dazzling charm.
However, it must also be noted that identifying the folk world as an ideal state also makes depicting its coarse and ugly aspects seem natural: for example, the portrayal of the vulgar personalities of characters in Red Sorghum, and the description of brutal killings (especially the naturalistic, bloody scene of skinning people) are presented with stimulating violence, creating a strange beauty that harmonizes with the work as a whole. Fundamentally, this tendency reflects the inherent coarse cultural form of the folk world. In Red Sorghum, however, this tendency still retains a powerful, moving force due to the author's rich artistic ideals, and it remains conducive to expressing the humanistic care embedded in the work. But in terms of the later development of new historical novels, the unselective portrayal of the folk's coarse form pioneered by Red Sorghum increasingly reveals its nature of vulgar taste. Once stripped of the support of a true folk ideal, such descriptions naturally devolve into the author's self-indulgence in sensory stimulation, losing the humanistic significance that should come with identifying with the folk.
Regarding Red Sorghum, it is also worth mentioning the novel's innovative writing style. Mo Yan was deeply influenced by the American writer Faulkner and the Latin American writer García Márquez, drawing boldly from their stream-of-consciousness techniques for temporal and spatial representation and the structural methods of magical realism. In Red Sorghum, he almost completely breaks the traditional chronological order and logical plot progression, telling the story in a very free and unfettered manner. But this seemingly arbitrary narration is governed by the author's subjective emotions, aligning with the vibrant, free spirit of the work. Additionally, Mo Yan demonstrates exceptional mastery of the Chinese language in this novel, using a wealth of imaginative and unconventional metaphors and synesthesia, creating a magnificent and magical linguistic level that supports the extraordinary folk beauty of the entire novel.