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Our Assessment:
A : sensational (in every sense of the word) storytelling See our review for fuller assessment.
From the Reviews: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
Sandalwood Death might be called an historical novel.
It is set in China, largely in Gaomi county, during the time of the Boxer Rebellion, around 1900, and is partly based on actual events, with historical figures such as the Empress Dowager Cixi and German Plenipotentiary Clemens von Ketteler playing important roles in the story.
Nevertheless, history is only a foundation for the story, and Mo Yan is less concerned with historical accuracy than with presenting a broader character and social study; beyond that, even, Sandalwood Death is decidedly a literary construct: it is fiction, and art.
The arias are exquisite, the staging unique, the ambience magical; in short, it is the ideal portrayal of life in the township.Nevertheless, there is little actual Maoqiang performance or description of it in the novel until one climactic scene, aside from the quoted arias (which are presented as separate from and thus only as introductory or complementary to the text proper). Yet this is very much a novel of staged performance: many of the actions (and especially interactions) between the characters are not formally scripted, but play out according to rules and tradition, from the deferential kowtowing in front of higher-place officials to the dance of the executions rituals that are central to the novel. Typically, too, theatricality extends so far that when some Germans are attacked they initially "thought it was an operatic troupe headed their way", rather than an armed band seeking to do them harm. The four figures that narrate the chapters in the novel's opening section are: Meiniang, the daughter of Sun Bing; her husband, Xiaojia, a simpleminded butcher; Zhao Jia, Xiaojia's father (and hence Meiniang's gongdieh -- father-in-law), a professional executioner; and Qian Ding, the local magistrate, who is also Meiniang's lover. The basic issue of conflict is immediately revealed -- and it's a doozie: Qian Ding has sentenced Meiniang's father to die, and Zhao Jia is to carry out the sentence. Or, as Meiniang puts it: My gandieh has arrested my real dieh and wants my gongdieh to put him to death. So, Gandieh, Gongdieh, my real dieh's fate is in your hands.[The use of these terms -- gandieh, as the glossary explains, means 'a benefactor, surrogate father, "sugar-daddy"', while dieh simply means father -- can be a bit annoying (and confusing), but is effective in reminding readers again that the characters aren't just individuals but also specifically role-players in what amounts to a piece of theater; other secondary designations applied to the characters include 'Grandma' (Zhao Jia) and 'Chief Cat' (Sun Bing).] Sun Bing's execution is also meant to set a very strong example, which is why master executioner Zhao Jia -- with nine hundred and eighty-seven kills under his belt ("not counting those executions in which I assisted") -- is called in, and which is why just an ordinary execution won't do: something special is called for. Zhao Jia promises: I will do everything in my power to ensure that his is a spectacular death, one that will go down in history.And later he assures Meiniang: I am going to see that your dieh's name will live forever, that his legend will become the stuff of grand opera, just you wait and see !The authorities -- and Plenipotentiary von Ketteler, whom they must appease -- set the bar high. Simply cutting Sun Bing in half -- a popular method -- won't do: The Plenipotentiary does not approve. He says death might come too fast and will not serve as a proper warning to people with evil thoughts in their heads. He would like you to find a uniquely cruel method that will inflict the maximum amount of suffering and draw it out as long as possible. The Plenipotentiary would like to see an execution where the subject holds out for at least five days.It's a tall order, but Zhao Jia has heard of a method that might do the trick -- the sandalwood death, which involves a pointed sandalwood stake and ... much unpleasantness. (Readers should be warned, by the way: the descriptions of the preparations for the execution, as well as of this and previous executions are detailed, graphic, and unsettling -- nothing for weak stomachs or impressionable children.) These requirements imposed by the authorities on the killing of Sun Bing ironically also necessitate a great effort to keep him alive, both before the execution -- he isn't meant to die by any other means -- and then during the process: his painful death is to be a drawn-out one, which of course proves difficult to achieve. Both the first and the third parts of the novel take place immediately before and around the planned execution, while the second part is a more sweeping look at the characters' live, providing some background, including about Zhao Jia's rise to prominence in the field, Sun Bing's crimes, and the magistrate. Sun Bing's crimes result from some Germans abusing his wife (Meiniang's stepmother); his reaction, and the explosively escalating series of retaliation back and forth that quickly follow lead to disaster. The Germans' overreaction to his initial response is outrageous, and pits the authorities -- cowed by the Germans' military might, and eager for the railway line they are constructing (a major source of friction with the locals) to be finished -- against the largely powerless locals, whom Sun Bing at least tries to give voice to, as it were (and, yes, in quite operatic fashion). Sun Bing's fate is sealed -- but Mo builds an astonishingly rousing tale around even this apparent and long-drawn out inevitability: Sandalwood Death is a superior adventure novel, among much else. The central characters, with their distinctive voices and perspectives, are very well-handled. Meiniang's blind passion for the magistrate (whose child she is carrying at the time everything comes to a head), tested by her deep love and the duty she feels towards her condemned father (and her blind hatred of her idiot husband) is the most difficult part for Mo to balance, and he veers into melodrama with her on occasion -- not surprisingly, since this set-up asks a lot from the character. Nevertheless, her part is a fascinating one too, as is her uneasy relationship with the magistrate's wife -- an incredibly ugly woman, of a different social class (most obviously seen in the fact that she has bound feet, while Meiniang doesn't), and one who is torn between jealousy and duty too. The executioner is a consummate professional, and there's a great deal of detail about that profession, too -- fascinating if also gory stuff, from the practice-sessions for the 'slicing-death' on pigs in a butcher shop (which just leads to lots of pigs-meat for dumplings) to the actual use of these techniques on a human being. His simple-minded son offers a more direct and simpler perspective on things, while the magistrate finds himself in a difficult position as representative of the officialdom that he has little influence on. As he is also reminded: "A conscience has no place in the life of an official." Mo Yan's voice(s) (and Howard Goldblatt's translation) show him in full command of the story for almost the entire book. There are rare slips -- "His eyes slitted open, sending icy rays my way", for example -- and in the middle part, narrated in the third person, there are some awful attempts at imagery: A clear and very bright moon hung high in the sky, looking like a naked beauty. The third-watch gong had just sounded, and the county town lay in stillness. Smells of nature -- plants and trees and insects and fish -- were carried on the summer-night breeze to cover heaven and earth like fine gauze decorated with pearl ornaments.The round moon like a naked woman ? Smells like a gauze-cover ? You can imagine where Mo was going with these ideas -- but he didn't get there. Fortunately, this sort of over-writing is very rare in the novel -- so rare that this and a few other passages stand out like sore thumbs in an otherwise exceptionally well- and clearly written, very creative but still largely realist work. Sandalwood Death is also a suspenseful action-novel, with a good deal of conflict (including a beard-war) and a variety of resolutions. It's a long book -- the four-hundred pages are pretty densely printed; this clocks in at somewhere near two-hundred-thousand words -- but there is barely a moment of respite in it, and it's a really good read (granted: if you can stomach the bloodier parts). Despite being loosely based on history, Sandalwood Death is also all the more remarkable for how it doesn't treat history -- in how, for example, the figure of the reprehensible von Ketteler is handled here (as opposed to what became of him in fact, which could easily have become a much more dominating part of any novel that gives him a significant role). History here is, in essence, taken for granted (and no doubt Sandalwood Death is easier appreciated by those with some familiarity with 1900 China), and what Mo Yan offers is a novel grounded in it, but rising far beyond it too. A superior work of fiction, highly recommended. - M.A.Orthofer, 13 January 2013 - Return to top of the page - Sandalwood Death:
- Return to top of the page - Chinese author Mo Yan (莫言) was born in 1955. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2012. - Return to top of the page -
© 2013-2021 the complete review
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