Lowaicue
英語在香港
Once upon a time a young Chinese boy was taken by his parents to have dinner with a family friend. The boy seldom had enough to eat having been brought up when Chairman Mao's greatest errors were being perpetrated and something like sixty million people died of starvation and associated illnesses.
The little boy's mother had very little food and made soup from the bark of trees and augmented their diet with grass roots, leaves and a tiny bit of rice.
The little boy was called Mo Ye and, for the first time in his short and hard life he tasted dumplings.
Chinese pork dumplings.
Chinese pork dumplings must be the most scrumptious delectables ever invented!
He said to the host, 'You must be very rich to be able to eat pork dumplings.'
The host smiled.
'How did you become so rich?' said Mo Ye.
'I am a writer', said the host.
What he wrote we may only guess since the only artistic expression permitted was in praise of the Great Helmsman.
Mo Ye decided that he too would be a writer when he grew up so he could eat pork dumplings like the rich man.
Mo Ye's father was very strict. He criticised his wife for encouraging the boy to speak. Indeed Mo Ye never stopped speaking. He spoke through every meal, he spoke in the fields to his mother and the other children. His father became increasingly annoyed. 'Please', he said to the boy, 'please don't talk so much. I need peace, I need silence.'
When he was a little older Mo Ye decided to change his name. He had started writing stories and remembering his father's pleas, adopted the name 'Mo Yan' which means 'no speak'.
On Thursday last, the 11 October 2012, Mo Yan or 'no speak' (Birth name Guan Mo Ye) was awarded the Nobel prize for literature. He is 57 years old. His stories are well known in China and soon, with a little luck, they will be well known in the rest of the world.
Story recounted to me this morning by a group of elderly ladies.
Permanent secretary of the Swedish academy Peter Englund says that the novel to start with is The Garlic Ballads.
The little boy's mother had very little food and made soup from the bark of trees and augmented their diet with grass roots, leaves and a tiny bit of rice.
The little boy was called Mo Ye and, for the first time in his short and hard life he tasted dumplings.
Chinese pork dumplings.
Chinese pork dumplings must be the most scrumptious delectables ever invented!
He said to the host, 'You must be very rich to be able to eat pork dumplings.'
The host smiled.
'How did you become so rich?' said Mo Ye.
'I am a writer', said the host.
What he wrote we may only guess since the only artistic expression permitted was in praise of the Great Helmsman.
Mo Ye decided that he too would be a writer when he grew up so he could eat pork dumplings like the rich man.
Mo Ye's father was very strict. He criticised his wife for encouraging the boy to speak. Indeed Mo Ye never stopped speaking. He spoke through every meal, he spoke in the fields to his mother and the other children. His father became increasingly annoyed. 'Please', he said to the boy, 'please don't talk so much. I need peace, I need silence.'
When he was a little older Mo Ye decided to change his name. He had started writing stories and remembering his father's pleas, adopted the name 'Mo Yan' which means 'no speak'.
On Thursday last, the 11 October 2012, Mo Yan or 'no speak' (Birth name Guan Mo Ye) was awarded the Nobel prize for literature. He is 57 years old. His stories are well known in China and soon, with a little luck, they will be well known in the rest of the world.
Story recounted to me this morning by a group of elderly ladies.
Permanent secretary of the Swedish academy Peter Englund says that the novel to start with is The Garlic Ballads.
