by You Jin
In 1992, I visited Argentina again, and found that the South American economy had undergone amazing changes. Because the Argentinian government had implemented bold and resolute economic reform, the economy had been rejuvenated. The biggest change was that the Argentinian peso was now of equal value to the US dollar. I spoke to several people there and found that they were filled with a new confidence in their local currency. The most interesting example was that, in the southern city of Riogallegos, our clean, quaint hotel cost 32 pesos (32 US dollars). We stayed for two nights, and when we checked out, we assumed they would take our US dollars. To our great surprise, the elderly hotelier insisted that we pay in Argentinian pesos. Because it was too early and the banks were not open—and because we were rushing for our flight— we were in a real fix. Fortunately, an American who was staying in the same hotel offered to exchange money with us, helping us out of the difficult situation. Compared to what we had witnessed in Argentina nine years earlier, when US dollars attracted people like a moth to a candle, this was a very different situation. Later, I read an article in a comprehensive journal about the development of the world economy. In its list of countries with the highest living standard, Argentina ranked number eight.
What is most unique about travel articles centred on people is that, if you interweave special sights of a specific place into lively human stories, you can avoid the dullness of just describing scenery. For instance, in “Lament of a Nomadic Tribe”, I wove the bleak, empty, silent, Nordic scenery into the lament of the nomadic tribes. When I travelled to the Arctic Circle, I interviewed several Lapp people who had suffered a great deal. Lapp people came from a nomadic tribe. When they became urbanised, many of them settled in the distant Arctic town of Kiruna. Though these urbanised Lapp people worked very hard, many were not able to gain the respect and recognition of the local people. Gradually, many fell into alcoholism, despairing and becoming despondent. Some were weak and could not adapt, and as they spiralled downward into alcoholism and troublemaking, it deepened the locals’ prejudice and resentment against them, forming a vicious cycle.
When I wrote about the plight of the Lapp people, I naturally brought in the arctic scenery of misty skies and silent lakes. As I depicted the sloppy, mentally unstable Lapp people singing wildly and rambling in a scene of such great natural beauty, the contrast made the pain flow through my pen even more intensely than before. Their bodies and broken beer bottles, both lying on the cold, frozen ground, deepened the effect of the tragedy.
2. Many of these travel narratives were translated by Shelly Bryant for the collection In Time, Out of Place, published in April 2015 by Epigram Books. The book was shortlisted for the 2016 Singapore Literature Prize in the English Non-Fiction category.
CHAPTER 12
A Gentle Vibration
Genesis
IT ALL STARTED with Dong Rui. Mr Dong was a renowned Hong Kong writer who, when I met him, was serving as senior editor and columnist for a certain big publishing company. Now, he is the proprietor and chief editor of Holdery Publishing Enterprises Ltd. In his creative work, he was known as a jack-of-all-trades, publishing not only novels (long and short) and essays (travel writing, essays and simple literary creation), but also lively children’s literature and serious literary criticism. He was a writer who combined talent and hard work perfectly.
In the late 1980s, Mr Dong recommended my work to the China Guangdong Travel Press. When the editor there looked it over, he decided to publish a collection of my selected travel essays, so I arranged a 180,000-word manuscript, entitled Life and Love. It was released in China in 1989. Though several editions have been released since that time, the first print run was a mere 3000 copies.
In 1990, Mr Dong published a literary review of my work in Hong Kong. Not long after, the director of the Singapore Writers’ Association, Mr Tian Liu, delivered a letter from China, sent to me through the association. The letter was from Ms Wang Yi Fang, chief editor of the China Zhejiang Arts Press. In the letter, she said that she had read Mr Dong’s review and was very interested in my travel book, and hoped I would get in touch with her soon.
I called immediately and Ms Wang herself answered the phone. She came straight to the point and asked me to send her all my travel writing that had already been published in Singapore so she could have a read-through and explore the possibility of publishing my books through her press.
Mainland China is massive, its population huge. Frankly, if the opportunity arose for my work to cross over into the Chinese market, it was not only a rigorous challenge, but a dream come true. And now, that opportunity was knocking on my door. With a good measure of anxiety mingled with an even greater measure of expectation, I put eight travel books into an envelope and sent them to Hangzhou.
At the same time that I was doing this, Mr Dong sent my work to the Sichuan Arts Publishing House, inviting the editor there, Ms Duan Bailing, to read my work.
After only a month, I received a call from Ms Wang, saying, “We want all eight of your travel books. Please don’t give the rights to another publisher. We would like to combine the eight books into five volumes to publish next year this time. I’ll send the contract over. We would appreciate it if you could sign it and send it over as early as possible.”
When I put the phone down, I was numb. Of course I was happy, but I was really in a state of shock over this development. According to my original plan, if the publisher wanted one or two of the eight volumes I sent them, I would already count it a great success. The reason for my modest expectations was that I had never been published in any newspapers or magazines in China at that time. To the publishers and academic world in China, I was a nobody. Now, a Chinese publisher was willing to pay a large amount to publish five volumes of my work, all in the space of a year. The news had come so suddenly; it really was hard to believe.
I felt like I was floating in the clouds. It was surreal. The joy I felt inside seemed to be draped with chiffon, a little hazy.
Good things always come in pairs. Before long, Ms Duan from the Sichuan Arts Publishing House wrote and said she was interested in publishing my travel narrative A Little White House in the Desert and the short collection The Exquisite Life. Excited, I wrote back to say I could only give her the latter.
In the days that followed, I kept these two developments to myself and, as always, buried myself in writing. No one knew the news, and I tried not to think about it myself. Of course, a farmer who has laboured diligently without complaint in the field all year long will be rewarded.
In the space of a year, I exchanged business letters with the two publishers frequently. Both publishers wanted to edit some colloquialisms, asking me to agree to modify the local Chinese I had used to suit an international readership. In Singapore, our language has been influenced by both the Malay and English languages, creating numerous words that are only of local use. The term “basha” for the Malay pasar (market), “de shi” for taxi, “bashi” for bus, “baxian” for per cent, and other similar “non-standard” words and phrases long ago entered our speech and became an accepted part of Singaporean Mandarin. When publishing for an overseas audience, though, they could be confusing to readers.
I happily complied with the editor’s requests, modifying colloquialisms to internationally accepted Mandarin terms. “Basha” became “cai shi,” “de shi” was changed to “ji cheng che”, “ba shi” transformed into “gong gong qi che”, and “ba ba xian” was changed to “bai fen zhi ba”. There were many such changes to be made in each manuscript.
The script acts as a bridge for the writer’s works, and colloquialisms could become blemishes in the style of writing. When a reader could not understand the basic language used by the writer, how could he have spiritual resonance with the content of the writing? Bearing this in mind, I made it a point from then on to pay careful attention to such things in my writing, trying to eliminate all colloquialisms from my work.
The year 1991 was an unforgettable year fo
r my entire creative writing journey. In September, the 4th National Book Fair (commonly called China Book Market), which was held in high regard by the world of Chinese publishers and literature, was held in Guangzhou. I accepted the invitation from the Zhejiang Arts Publishing House and went to the event, where a book signing was held for the release of my five new books.
In the windy and cold autumn month, I arrived in crowded Guangzhou. At the Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, I met my decisive and discreet editor, Ms Wang, for the first time. She was a typical Zhejiang lady, small-built with pale skin. She spoke very gently. The only thing that gave away her strong character was her eyes, which were very focused when she looked at you, and sharp when she was not looking at you.
She handed me colourful copies of my five books, along with a huge colour poster. The five books had a new cover design. The designer, Liang Shan Shan, had used the colour photos from my travels as material, and very creatively inlayed them in half a sphere, bringing out the implied meaning that my footsteps were everywhere. Each book followed a different colour scheme: bright yellow, pink, green, red and dark blue. They were colourful and pretty.
These five books were entitled A Little White House in the Desert, That Distant Love, Romantic Journey, Lost Rainy Season, and The Sun Refused to Go Home. The total print run exceeded 80,000 copies (16,500 for each book). The courage of the publishers to risk such a large sum of money on an unknown writer was admirable. At the same time, the publisher’s courage in releasing five books at once created a certain level of buzz in the market.
Publicity work was already seriously underway. Besides putting up posters everywhere, the Guangzhou newspaper Yang Cheng Wan Bao published my writing in their supplement “Hua Di”, in a prominent position over a few consecutive days. Many people pointed out that we should let the writing do the talking. This was surely the best form of advertisement. Before the book fair started, many readers had already gotten a taste of my work from the local newspaper.
The next afternoon, we made our way to the book fair venue. The Zhejiang Arts Publishing House had arranged a glass pavilion for me to sit in during the book signing. When I arrived, there was already a long queue outside the pavilion. Inside, the publisher had placed 1000 copies, separated into 200 sets (each set of five books). It looked like a mountain of books.
The readers’ enthusiasm washed over me like the tide, one wave after another. I autographed book after book, then autographed some more. It seemed like an endless flow. We started to run out of books, but there was still a huge crowd of readers. Within just one hour, we had sold all 1000 books. Still, a long queue remained outside the pavilion in the hot sun.
As soon as I walked out of the pavilion, I was surrounded by a crowd of readers. Questions were fired at me from all sides. “I arrived late and didn’t get my copies. Can you tell me where I can get copies now?”
As the readers pressed around me, I saw a smile of relief appear on Ms Wang’s face. At that moment, I knew for sure that we had conquered the most difficult barrier. After the event, she said to me, half-joking, “If the book fair had not been such a success for you, there was no point in me going back to the office.”
Ms Wang had done a huge amount of behind-the-scenes work to launch these five books at the same time. When she had received my eight books, she had gone without food and sleep to finish reading them. Then, she had given them to several trial readers, from different age groups and educational levels, including both male and female readers. Because of the enthusiastic and positive feedback she had received across the board, it increased her confidence to publish all five books.
Because of her insight and courage, along with the full support of the president of the publishing company, Mr Jiang Huan Sun, my literary career took off in China in ways I had never imagined. This is something for which I am forever grateful.
And that was not all. In Sichuan, my essay collection was also enjoying a warm reception. My editor, Ms Duan, was a very kind and diligent woman. Aside from Ms Wang, she is the editor with whom I have cooperated most frequently and comfortably over the years. When we talked about the difficulties she met with after A Delicate Life had been published, she broke into a smile that expressed the sentiment, After the bitter comes the sweet. She said to me, “The publishing house has great confidence in this work and did an initial print run of 10,000 copies, but when the copies were sent to the bookstores, no one wanted them. They all said, ‘We’ve never heard of this author, and short essays are always a hard sell.’ Our distributor begged them, ‘Take it. Put copies near the door, try it for just one day. If it doesn’t sell, I’ll come back and pick them up tomorrow.’” Only then did the bookstore owners agree. I never imagined that we would receive calls from numerous bookstores the next day, saying the book had created a small storm.”
After this, Ms Duan wrote an article for China Youth entitled “The Rise of a Star”. In it she wrote:
The initial print run of A Delicate Life, all 10,000 copies, sold out in just one month. Many university students said that they loved reading You Jin’s book because of her humorous and lively writing style, and because she was good at using illustrations. The content of her work also had the power to encourage readers to improve themselves. From this, we can see that a new star is rising in China. A You Jin mania has already started in the Mainland.3
Subsequently A Delicate Life saw several new print runs—four in less than a year of its debut. More than 10,000 copies were printed, and it was listed as a bestseller by several bookstores.
Winter in Shanghai and Hangzhou
On 27 November 1991, at the invitation of Xinhua Bookstore, I flew to Shanghai. Shanghai Xinhua Bookstore’s deputy publicist, Mr Wang Yao Hua, and Ms Wang from Zhejiang Arts Publishing House both met me at the airport.
Shanghai in early winter was warmer than I expected. As soon as I met the silver-tongued Mr Wang, he used humour to dissipate any discomfort between us. He was meticulous and enthusiastic, fully displaying the adorable side of Shanghainese people.
The next morning, the Xinhua Bookstore and the Zhejiang Arts Publishing House held a joint press conference. Reporters from all of Shanghai’s important news agencies appeared. The next morning, the story was in all the papers.
On 1 December, a book signing had been arranged at the Xinhua Bookstore on East Nanjing Road. Early that morning, before the store opened, hundreds of readers, young, old, male and female, formed a quiet, orderly queue at the entrance.
Reporters from Shanghai’s Literature Weekly, Dou Shi Zhao and Li Xin Mei, wrote an article entitled “You Jin in Shanghai”. It was quite touching to read it.
On 1 December, You Jin arrived for a book signing at the Xinhua Bookstore on East Nanjing Road. Many enthusiastic readers turned up early to get her autograph. One young mother queuing in front of the store said that she had left her sick child at home and rushed over early that morning from Pudong. Another woman from Guangdong said that there had been numerous people waiting to get You Jin’s autograph at the National Book Fair in Guangzhou in September, so she had not been able to buy the popular author’s books then. Now, no matter how long she had to queue, she wanted to get You Jin’s autograph. Only one autograph was allowed per person at the book signing, but one reader from the Shanghai Jiangnan Shipyard, had brought all five of You Jin’s books, and asked whether or not the author could sign all five. He said he would wait until the author was free to do so, then stood to one side and waited for 45 minutes. Touched, You Jin took all 5 books from him and signed them.4
The book signing Mr Wang had meticulously organised in Shanghai ended on a high note. On 23 November, the Shanghai Daily published an article, which created a stir, entitled “You Jin Mania Heats Up Again: The Publishing Industry’s Hot Points Bring it through Difficult Times”. It read:
On the whole, the publishing industry still has not worked its way out of a low point. How to overcome this challenge, making use of their strengths to find a stronghold while provid
ing the readers with profitable spiritual nourishment, is a pressing issue pondered by publishers. It can be seen that every publisher has, according to their own different circumstances and characteristics, come up with strategies, and they have attained a certain level of results.
It is obvious to scrupulous people that among the strategies, seeking the cultural hot point the public is interested in and upholding the standard of “not vulgar, but selling well” to publish works, is an effective method.
Clear evidence of this has been seen over the past few years, as one domestic publisher after another has published works by the renowned author You Jin. This Singaporean writer has published more than ten books in her home country, and now her works are advancing into China. To date, many of her articles have appeared in magazines and newspapers throughout the country, and many local publishers have raced to release her books, including a collection of travel articles, Life and Love (Guangdong Travel Publishing House), a collection of short essays, A Delicate Life (Sichuan Arts Publishing House), a short story collection Nightmare in the Desert and a volume of essays, Life in the Gravel (Beijing Overseas Chinese Publishing House), and Collected Essays of You Jin (Tianjin Hundred Flowers Press). Zhejiang Arts Publishing House has made the boldest move, publishing five of You Jin’s travel books all at one go. One source at the Cultural Publishing House has dubbed 1991 “The Year of You Jin”. Many in the publishing industry said enviously that at such a time when pure literature has hit a slump, the appearance of such a phenomenon was very refreshing. At the same time, it again proves that one of the paths for the publishing world to walk out from their slump is their ability to discover the public’s hot point.
The article’s conclusion is worth noting:
The new expectation readers have of their books is that they present love, and sincerity with all respect in a realistic and heart-warming way. At the Guangzhou Book Fair, the editor from the Zhejiang Arts Publishing House said, “We see You Jin’s personality shine through in her writing. Her writing is honest and lucid, not at all difficult to understand, no pretentious embellishment, philosophically rich, full of love for the world, and at the same time, having a power to inspire the spirit. That is why five of her books were released at the same time. We were not afraid of making a loss once we had recognised our hot point. Of course, this sort of hot point is positive. There is clear evidence that we have succeeded.