Zhao Yannian woodcut illustrations of "A Madman's Diary"

Author: Lu Xun
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2002-09-01
Features: Lu Xun is renowned for A Madman's Diary, and Zhao Yannian is celebrated for his woodcuts. When the story encounters the, it comes to life on paper: Lu Xun's works are truly suited for expression through the art form of printmaking. The colors are somber, and the tone is somewhat dark, much like a scream under immense oppression, reflecting the gray sky behind. The madman is like this, Xia Yu is like this, Juan Sheng is like this, and there are also Xiang Linsuo, Kong Yiji, and Gao Laofu—just one story, a few illustrations, and Lu Xun's soul is slowly resurrected in Zhao Yannian's ink. Excerpt: A Madman's Diary
A certain gentleman, whose name I will not reveal here, and his younger brother, were both dear friends of mine during my time at middle school. We have been separated for many years, and news of them has gradually faded. Recently, I heard that one of them had fallen seriously ill. Returning to my hometown, I detoured to visit them, only to meet one person. He said the ill one was his younger brother. Though I had come from a distance to pay my respects, he had already recovered and was now seeking a position in a remote place. Laughing, he presented me with two volumes of his diary, claiming it could reveal his illness at the time and was worth sharing with old friends. Upon returning and reading it once, I discovered that what he suffered from was likely "dementia praecox." The words were jumbled and incoherent, filled with absurdities, and there were no dates—only varying shades of ink, indicating it was not written at one time. There were also passages that were somewhat coherent, and I have selected one to provide for medical research. The errors in the diary remain unchanged, but the names of the villagers, though unknown in the world, are also altered as they are of no great importance. As for the title, it was added after his recovery and remains unaltered. April 2, 1907.
One evening, the moonlight was very bright. I had not seen him for more than thirty years; seeing him now, I felt unusually refreshed. I realized that the past thirty years had been wasted in delusion. Yet I must be very careful. Otherwise, why would the dog from the Zhao family stare at me? My fear is justified.
Two days ago, there was no moonlight at all. I knew something was wrong. Taking care to step out early, I noticed the eyes of Mr. Zhao Guiweng were strange—seemed to fear me, as if he wanted to harm me. Several others were whispering about me, and I was afraid they were watching. Everyone I met on the street was like that. Among them, the most menacing one, with his mouth open, smiled at me. I froze from head to toe, realizing their plan was well in place. But I was not afraid and continued on my way. A group of children were also whispering about me, with the same fearful and hateful expressions as Mr. Zhao Guiweng. I wondered what I could have done to these children to warrant such hostility. Unable to hold back, I shouted, "Tell me!" And they ran away. I thought: What could I have done to Mr. Zhao Guiweng, or to the people on the street? The only thing was twenty years ago, when I stomped on the ancient Mr. Gaju's old ledger. The old man was clearly displeased. Though Mr. Zhao Guiweng did not know him, he must have heard the news and took up the matter on his behalf. He gathered the people on the street to oppose me. But what about the children? They were not even born then, yet today they look at me with those strange, hateful eyes—seeming to fear me, as if to harm me. This truly frightened me, made me wonder, and even saddened me. I understood. It was what their parents taught them!