Soul Mountain - Gao

Soul Mountain by Gao Xingjiang -5/5

"Soul Mountain" is a panoramic mosaic of a quickly vanishing China. A nostalgic search for an inferred Mountain leads the author into a search of reality, of who he is and what has shaped his country. It's a jagged tale of startling incoherence that binds one to it until the last page. Along the road "you", "I" and "she" meet interesting people and examine interesting themes, which consistently diverge from one another. It starts with "you" in a dirty bus stop and ends with "I" comprehending and understanding nothing. A truly fascinating tale of humanity and the forces that shape people and their times, a worthy winner of the Nobel and a wonderful read for the brave at heart.

The novel is a nostalgic monument to ancient themes in a modern time. He paints verbal pictures of ancient traditions and places that rest on the mind and leave a warm, comforting feeling within the depths of the reader. His portrayal of ancient and unforgotten traditions and practices that survived the cultural revolution resonate through the mind and leave a trace of envy and a sense of "I wish I could see it too" attitude. It's a novel in which the author tries not to forget his roots nor from where he came but also tries to grasp reality and the meaning of life, love and theology.

Gao takes on the task of examining reality leaving the reader unsure of what is and isn't real. The author asserts that "it is impossible to disentangle imagination from experience" and elsewhere asks "where is the boundary between memory and wishful thinking? How can the two be separated? Which of the two is more real and how can this be determined?" Even the main characters in the plot are not real but mere reflections of each other "you" is the reflection "I" created, and "she" was created by "you" and "he" is the back of "you".

Other expressions of reality are found throughout the narrative. The author talks about "reality existing through experience" and emphasizes "personal experience" but then infers that "reality cannot be verified and does not need to be." The author makes a startling conclusion that "reality is myself, and that reality is the perception of this instant and it can't be related to another person." In the end any reality that is portrayed is "distorted" since the author "had been unable to portray real life." The reader is never sure where they are or what is true or false yet certain that they are hearing something.

But the novel, as I assume the author did, loses love. "She" says "love is an illusion which people conjure up to delude themselves. You don't believe in the existence of something called love; it is either the man possessing the woman or the woman possessing the man."

A novel of such magnitude cannot leave out an examination of religion and God. "Soul Mountain" attempts to trace religion from the "a vestige of early human civilization; the worship of fire" through to the authors conclusion when "I" sees a "small green frog" and "knows this is God." But "I" honestly admits that he doesn't "know if God, and the Devil in fact exist but both were invoked by you who are the embodiment of both my good fortune and my misfortune." Gao admits later on (in reference to folk songs) that "what should be revered isn't revered and instead all sorts of things are worshipped."

In this examination of faith he confronts the reality that the Chinese "government doesn't allow of superstitious practices." In spite of these inhibitions he takes his reader into the realm of ancient religious traditions that are still invisible to the western eye.

This is a monumental search for the self, humanity, history, culture and identity. It is cast against the morass of the vast expanse of China. Eventually "the act of searching itself turns into a sort of goal, and the object of the search is irrelevant" and the "true traveler is without goal, it is the absence of goals which creates the ultimate traveler." Gao is the ultimate traveler but I am left to think that Gao's own search has led him to the vacuous belief that "life is joyous, death is joyous, it is nothing more than your memories." If this is what life is, then I too would "wail" with Gao and (in the words of the author) it would be the "wail of accumulated sadness being released."

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