Within the room. Beyond desires.

Author: Zoushuo
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-08-01
Features: It’s a good story, not to mention a song of innocence and experience in desire. The story unfolds along the themes of "anticipation" or "waiting," with the female protagonist Nan, who could also be any young woman living in the city, expecting both love and sex to arrive simultaneously. However, this expectation is ultimately severed—sex and love do not come together, and people pass each other by. In an era where love becomes more abstract, sex or desire approaches people, becoming a more straightforward issue: pure pleasure? A troubling problem? Profound shame? Perhaps all of the above. But as we embrace physical love, we witness the absence of spiritual care, which has become the root of suffering for countless people. There are many ways to read a book, just as there are many ways to reflect on a period of time. From a convenient perspective, it’s a book about youth, and it’s quite popular—it’s about the harsh youth. From a perspective of indulgence, it’s about emotions and sex, and what’s particularly appealing is that it doesn’t focus on the lucky emotions or the equally unlucky sex, especially the latter.
Room is a virtual yet overly human character, which is a bit frustrating. Fortunately, many things happen outside of Room. Desire is a real yet overly dehumanized thing, which is quite exciting. Yes, desire hatches various dark and cruel desires within it, and these desires grow secretly and crazily in the text, almost replacing the dull and flat characters to become the protagonists of the book. What I wrote is such a woman. At the beginning of the story, she is fortunate enough to have someone to pour her emotions into, until they leave. In her brief life experience, she hasn’t had time to learn how to let the remaining emotions evaporate, so she lets herself be soaked in the flesh and the sweat of men. She allows a stranger to use her in a "one-night stand" way—without love, there is no harm, without desire, there is no disappointment. But what else can there be beyond desire? Love must hurt, and be hurt by others, because to love deeply requires going to the core. How can it pierce to the bone? It must be sharp, piercing and to tell her, "I am completely devoted to you."
In my novel, the girl falls in love at first sight with a rock guitarist. He calls her foolish. He has no money, no household registration, no diploma. He asks, "Why do you like me?" But she is moved by his music. Behind them is the gray sky of the Huangpu River. He says he will leave because of love. She doesn’t understand, but she still nods. They stay together for a year, and the boy really leaves, in a winter full of holidays. He says, "I will let love pass me by." After loving someone, you are marked forever, a mark that cannot be erased. This is the love I have experienced.
I wrote two long novels—is this an attempt at desensitization therapy? I thought I finally could live a good life alone. Last March, listening to Xu Wei’s "Often Walking," listening to "In the Years of Youth, We Couldn’t Help Ourselves," tears streamed down my face. It was a singer we both loved. A flower, even if it falls on muddy ground, remains beautiful.