Looking at Zhang Ailing's Artistic Language

Author: An Yiru
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-09-01
Features: Dedicated to this book as a memorial for the 10th anniversary of Eileen Chang's passing! That night, I stood on the streets of Shanghai, gazing at the flickering, hazy neon lights. Suddenly, I realized that I was still in the same era, the same years as her. She was the end of a beginning, while we were the beginning of an end. This process was so long, I couldn’t see it clearly. I only saw—Eileen Chang, waiting for me ahead. The more I stared, the more distant I felt from her. This distance had begun in the distant years and continued to stretch forward. Generations of social barriers had built thick walls, and the barriers of time and space had caused us to miss each other by a hundred years. When I looked up at her, I felt as if all my efforts would turn to ashes in despair. In September 1995, Eileen Chang quietly passed away in her home. A dazzling, golden-sand-filled era came to an end. Her life was more legendary than her novels. In that era, no one dared to shout the slogan, "Fame should be sought early—when it comes too late, joy is not as sweet" as she did. Yet, after the brilliance, she could return to simplicity instantly, like the cold, stunning beauty left in the heart after a fireworks display. And her love—so brief yet so intense. Two years of love required a lifetime to forget. Her death was also mysterious. She lay quietly in that small apartment, unknown to anyone.