Chen Yuan's Prose

Author: Chen Yuan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 1997-02-01
Features: When the publisher planned to compile and print an essay collection for me, I almost thought I had heard wrong; because I am not a professional writer, nor an essayist. I have indeed written many articles in my life, but what do those count as essays? Not essays, not miscellany, nor academic papers—none of the above. The scribbles on paper were mostly written for the occasion, or to comment on contemporary figures and events, or to express my own sentiments. Sometimes they were like self-talk, as if only for my own eyes to see—what kind of essays are those? I don’t know. A close friend, after observing me for many years, described me very seriously yet half-jokingly as follows: You have spent your life wandering through the grand edifices of world civilization and culture. You enter a room, take a good look, leave something behind, or leave nothing behind, then exit. Then you enter another room, take another good look, leave something behind, or leave nothing behind, and then exit again. You keep entering more rooms, and so on, for decades.