Xi Murong and Her Inner Mongolia

Author: Xi Murong / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: Xi Murong hasn’t aged; at over 60, she remains radiant. Xi Murong’s poetry hasn’t aged either; readers still love her Aroma of Seven Liang. Xi Murong’s words haven’t aged either; the emotions in her new book still possess the power to touch the heart. This book is her latest masterpiece, where she selects over 300 photos from thousands to include in it, pairing them with beautiful and melancholic text to depict the distant yet close spiritual homeland in her heart—Inner Mongolia. This book will spark a wave of nostalgia, allowing readers to discover a different Xi Murong, a Xi Murong belonging to her homeland, Inner Mongolia.
Xi Murong is a Mongolian, born with the full name Murun Xilianbo in Chongqing, Sichuan in 1943, with ancestral roots in the aristocratic Ming’an Banner of the Chahar League. She graduated from the Fine Arts Department of Taiwan Normal University and the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Brussels, Belgium. She is a renowned painter in Taiwan, as well as a famous essayist and poet. Her works include poetry collections such as Aroma of Seven Liang, Youth Without Regrets, and Nine Poems of Time, and prose collections such as A Song, Mountains and Rivers Have Poetry, as well as art theory works like Exploring the Soul and Theories of Thunder and Color Art. Her works are imbued with ancient Eastern philosophy, carry a religious tone, and convey a sense of the desolate beauty of impermanence in life. This book is her new work, introducing her spiritual homeland—Inner Mongolia, as she sees it. Therefore, in my letter to Ni Ma, I repeatedly emphasized that I didn’t want too many people to know about this; I just wanted to go home quietly alone.
—But on the very night I arrived in Beijing, Ni Ma told me that the people of my hometown still wanted to welcome me. He said:
—“The people back home don’t want to follow your wishes. After all these years, you are a returning relative. They say that according to the traditions passed down by our ancestors, certain rituals of welcome and blessings must be held for those who return from such distant places.”
—Something began to gently strike my heart. I looked at Ni Ma, at his sincere face and eyes, and slowly started to understand that what the ancestors left behind was not just land, but also the customs and traditions formed by deeply rooted traditions, which we call “culture.” I had always thought I was a Mongolian, but when I faced these traditions firsthand, if I refused, I would never be able to truly be a Mongolian.
—Absolutely not! This cannot happen! For so many years, war, wandering, and countless external factors have prevented me from being a complete Mongolian. But I can never let my stubbornness and prejudices destroy half a lifetime’s hope right now, when I have finally reached the door of my homeland.
—I must understand, I must accept. If I want to truly be a Mongolian, I must follow the traditions passed down by my ancestors and “return home.”
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