The Taste of Words: The Confucius Series of the Century

Author: Hao Mingjian
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: Selected 100 short essays, arbitrarily listed ten topics, which can be considered a typical "ten-scenery disease." These writings are more like occupational byproducts than research insights. Most of them were hastily written late at night to meet the page requirements of Yao Wen Jiao Zi. A meticulous reader can easily see the haste and exhaustion in them. If cherishing one's own work is a common sentiment among writers, then I am an exception. When I first started publishing, I would be excited and even cut and paste the articles later. Later, I found it unnecessary. Every time I sit down to write, nine out of ten times, it's a struggle—searching for words, straining my brain—but once finished, I can wave goodbye with ease, leaving them to the whims of fate. I have rarely thought of compiling a collection. Once, the former editor-in-chief Ding Jingtang saw something I published 30 years ago in Xiangjiang Literature and. Reading my old works under the dim light was like meeting a long-lost child. If material concentration and a highly responsible editor were not present, it's likely I would have abandoned the project halfway. If citing sources and meticulously explaining references are the basic style of research articles, then I am an exception. I subconsciously resist annotations. I admire the flow of the Yangtze River, unimpeded and unbroken, rather than using footnotes or endnotes to dissect the text into a state of breathless confusion. This shows my lack of basic scholarly training. Before writing, I might flip through books and extract quotes, but once I enter the writing state, I always want to simplify, say less, and avoid citing references when possible, using one instead of two if one suffices. I know the result of this approach is likely to be superficial and blunt, but I prefer it to making readers uncomfortable. If meticulous word choice and careful consideration are occupational traits of those who work with language, then I am an exception. I tend to follow my instincts, often "unable to restrain myself" when faced with things, and often speak without thinking of the consequences. At such times, what is expressed is not academic insight but the subjective aspirations of a cultural person, the scattered reflections of a text editor, or even the cultural emotions of a Chinese literature graduate. There is a Greek proverb: "The wise speak from experience, and the wiser speak from experience not to speak." Unfortunately, I lack experience but love to blurt things out. Perhaps for this reason, the 100 short essays are 100 targets. However, what gives me some comfort is that what I say may be trivial, foolish, or wrong, but not insincere, empty, or fake.