Soul Mountain

This has to be one of the most controversial books on the market. Either you love it or hate it, as reflected by ratings from 1 to 5 stars. I read the book first in Chinese (my first language), then in English, and I think I can partially explain this contradiction. The central theme of the book is straightforward. A dying man goes on a quest for adventure and closure. The reason he chose to go to the Soul Mountain is purely coincidental, he heard the name casually mentioned by a fellow traveler on the train. We can only speculate that he was drawn to the "Soul" mountain in the hope of finding some spiritual enlightening and the meaning of his own existence. The Soul Mountain (Lingshan) continues to elude Gao, and the closest thing he ever got to is the Soul Rock (Lingyan) where women burn incense when they want to have sons. Unlike many other readers, I could not detect any deep moral or religious questioning on the part of the author, nor is there a spiritual awakening in this book. What has captivated me is Gao's lyrical description of the amazing landscape, the villagers, the Taoist priests, the monks and the hermits who live in the deep mountains and back woods. He reflects fleetingly on his past, full of memories of political persecution, failures in love and relationships, lack of fulfillment, and wrestles with his own demons of loneliness and homesickness. I am moved by his irrepressible sadness whenever he encounters remnants of his childhood: ponds with floating duckweed, arched stone bridges, small town wine shops---.I am dazzled by Gao's masterful use of both traditional and modern Chinese prose, his subtle sense of humor, irony, drama, mystery and his knowledge of history and folklore. Gao's alternative use of "I." "you" and "He" does not bother me. In my mind's eye, I see the same person. But I find his jumps from reality to fantasy, from the mystic mountain to the sizzling bedroom a bit disorienting. His haunting nightmares and his philosophical rambling remind me of Avant Garde paintings. One gets a sense of power, but not beauty. I read the Chinese version of the book first and loved it. However, when I read the English translation, I felt something was lost. It was not the fault of the translator, but the huge problem of uprooting a monumental work from its native land and transplanting it in a foreign soil. It is therefore surprising to me that so many Western readers are able to enjoy this remarkable piece of literature. The matter of women in Gao's writing requires some cultural context. By tradition, the mainstream Chinese writers have been reticent about the matter of sex. Serious writers did not engage in description of sexual love. But as a modern writer, Gao probably feel obliged to break this taboo, although in my opinion, he probably does not feel comfortable about it, nor is this one of the more successful aspects of the book. The women in Gao's book are hard for the Westerners to relate. One book reviewer at Amazon.com described these women as "deranged orhysterical drama queens of the highest order." When reading this book, it is important to consider the social context it was written in. For more than 3 decades beginning from 1949, the only art form allowed in China was the exultation of the victory of the Communist revolution and the greatness of Mao Zedong. It is to Gao's credit that he was able to create his own unique writing style, despite this very difficult creative climate. If "uniqueness," "power" and "craftsmanship" are the chief criteria by which art should be evaluated, then Gao deserves the highest honor possible bestowed upon him.H. Mei Liu, M.D., author of GRANDFATHER'S MICROSCOPE

I like this book because I am drawn to Eastern thought and philosophy. There are many nuggets of wisdom. The main character is on a journey to find soul and I am also drawn to that theme. His perspectives offer the immense time perspective of Chinese civilzation, in constrast to the American time frame of a few hundred years. That is refreshing and broadens my own perspective which can get bogged down in the impasse of current politics. Woman however is treated as Other, and while that is usual in writings by men, is annoying to me. So, one star is subtracted.

“This isn’t a novel.” [Chapter 72] A number of reviewers here complained that they could not read this work that their book club had selected. I’m inclined to agree that Soul Mountain is likely not a good choice for a book club. Perhaps one needs to be a bit of a loner to relate to it. The work is discontinuous yet loosely connected. If you consider that Xingjian is a translator of Samuel Beckett, then the style may not seem so foreign.The narrator travels rural China in search of Soul Mountain (Lingshan), but it is not a geographical place. Rather it may be a place within himself. It is a search for meaning, or rather for a way to accept the lack of meaning. The first sentence of the final chapter reads: “In the snow outside my window I see a small green frog, one eye blinking and the other wide open, unmoving, looking at me. I know this is God.” But, this is not the Judeo-Christian-Islamic god who provides life and creation with meaning and purpose – God’s purpose may not be known to us, but believers have faith it is real and vital. This rather is the god of the void, of chaos. In Chapter 18 the narrator asks: “Can this possibly be the primitive loneliness devoid of all meaning I seek?” Did the narrator secede in his quest?A number of reviewers here complained that they could not finish this book. But, that’s OK. You do not need to. After reading the first few chapters, you should accept that this is not a linear work. If you like, you can just skip around and read a few chapters here and there. Do not try to decipher them. Just let them sink in. Xingjian is also an artist. You might look up some of his ink paintings and see if you can match them with chapters in Soul Mountain. Maybe someday, perhaps when you are over 50, you’ll come back to Soul Mountain and read it cover-to-cover. Or maybe not. In any case, there is much spiritual matter here for contemplation. Take what you like – no need to stuff yourself.

I understand and appreciate what Gao Xingjian was trying to do, but the odd POV choices, misogyny, and convoluted plot made this a difficult, and in the end, impossible read. Perhaps I'm just not a good candidate for this novel, however; I dislike stream of consciousness writing (looking at you, Virginia Woolf!) and I'm not a philosophy major. And listen, I read all of Homestuck, which in its entirety is almost all second-person POV, and this novel took second-person POV to the EXTREME, to which the novel was nearly incomprehensible.I do, however, love the paintings of Gao Xingjian and I appreciate what he was trying to do with this novel. Honestly this feels like a "lost in translation" book to me - I can nearly guarantee it's better in the original Chinese version.

A soft read with a lot of depth. Beautiful and insightful. Stylistic approach and Tempo are both wonderful.

loved it. Gave feeling you youself walking with him. You see around you breath the situation whatever coming with no fight, just pass on.

An elegant and beautifully written travelogue, essential reading for anyone who plans to visit China and leave the cities behind.

Very satisfied. As descibed

Inspiring journey made by the narrator as he travels through China, believing he is terminally ill. Deserved the Nobel prize.