Dimension of literature

Author: Nan Fan
Editor-in-Chief: Wang Yu
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-04-01
Features: Excerpt: The Magic of Language: Shaping and Confinement (I)
One of the necessary conditions for an individual to become a member of a society is to be incorporated into its linguistic system. The linguistic system is the basic network that unites a society. For individuals, language is a mysterious web of symbols. Language can infiltrate hidden social corners, weaving through people's speech; at the same time, it can extend endlessly, expanding infinitely, becoming a massive structure that individuals cannot shake. Language is not like natural objects such as mountains, rivers, and rivers; language is an artifact. However, people cannot treat language like other artifacts—such as axes, cars, or even space shuttles. The mysterious nature of language often bewilders people. Even in today's rational society, various methods of dissecting language have far from achieved the expected results. Therefore, it is not only linguists who consider the question: What is language? The history of this question is already very long. The truth about the origin of language is buried in conflicting accounts and is difficult to verify. Perhaps mysterious things are always associated with unimaginable magic. For primitive peoples, language was like a magical tool. It was more like an omnipotent, divinely bestowed gift. In many ancient legends, the emergence of language is often portrayed as an extraordinary event. The Basic Training of the Book of Huainanzi records: "In the past, Cangjie created writing, and the sky rained grains of rice, and the ghosts wept at night." At that time, people had already realized that language and writing contained extraordinary power. Many religious doctrines have regarded language as a tool for creation. The Book of Genesis in the Old Testament tells us that the words used by God possess miraculous divine power. God said, "Let there be light," and light appeared; God said, "Let there be living creatures in the waters, birds in the sky, and living things on the earth," and soon, this world was filled with all kinds of creatures, vibrant with life. Here, words reveal supreme power—they are the mother of the real world. At other times, language even posed a threat of usurping God's authority—this is the story of the Tower of Babel in the Bible. The plot of this story is deeply meaningful: Noah's descendants attempted to build a tower to reach the heavens, speaking the same language and working together in harmony; the power they demonstrated made God uneasy, so Yahweh confused their accents, making it impossible for them to coordinate. The story of the Tower of Babel is more of a symbol: it suggests, from the opposite side, the power language holds over humanity. "The magic of language" is not an exaggeration; rather, it proves how language participates in human reality in a unique way. By "participation," we mean revealing how language intervenes in various aspects of reality, shaping the mental space of social members, continuing specific ideologies, maintaining or disrupting existing value systems, regulating the relationship between subjects and objects, providing models for human perception and experience, offering mediation for understanding reality, and so on. For example, language's naming of reality is also a prompt for human memory of reality; grammatical rules regulate the basic framework of human consciousness, and concepts like "God," "heaven," "negative numbers," and "metaphysics" give abstruse content a place to dwell. "The magic of language" means that language exercises a domineering rule over humanity, often to the extent that humans no longer see language as a mediator between consciousness and reality—they treat language as reality itself.
Postscript: The postscript says: "At forty, one should be free from doubt." My forty years are still often filled with confusion. This is the difference between a sage and ordinary mortals. For me, writing is often a form of piercing through confusion. Writing consolidates thoughts, aligns direction, and a pen seems like a sharp blade in hand. Such writing indeed reminds one of a soldier breaking through a siege. This work consumed much of my heart and soul. Intense reading, sleepless contemplation, fierce debates, and the refinement of words—all later led me to realize that I had unintentionally treated this work as a representative of my fortieth year. Of course, this does not prove the maturity of the work; it merely proves the depth of its importance to me. "Postscript" is like the curtain falling on a stage—the performance is over. This work will now leave the author's hands and embark on its own journey. All that needs to be said has been said—this is the time for the author to tally another kind of trophy in their writing career—has a few more strands of white hair been added recently? Like my previously published Literature of Conflict, this work's research topic was supported by the 1995 National Youth Social Science Research Fund, for which I am grateful. Of course, I am also grateful to many teachers, friends, colleagues, and Shanghai Sanlian Bookstore for assisting in the completion of this work. Nan Fan February 25, 1998