Once on a Moonless Night, by Dai Sijie

So many ways to begin — first, isn’t this book cover gorgeous? I’ve begun to take an interest in China and Chinese fiction/literature/culture/movies/etc since picking up Love in a Fallen City by Eileen Chang (which also has a gorgeous cover, although I haven’t finished reading it yet) and being enchanted by another culture that called out to me through her poetic prose. The eastern culture of China is far from my own safe in western Canada, yet as Chang described how it felt to be treated as a colonial in Hong Kong, with the culture and people subordinate to the British, I could relate. I’ve read mostly British literature for years now, perhaps all my life. Canadian literature is never as good, I think to myself. I know more about British history than I do about Canadian history. And all this Britishness began to feel slightly samey, stale and soggy as mushy peas. I love female authors like Jane Austen, Elizabeth Bowen and Virginia Woolf, but must they endlessly nostalgically hover over the lost class based British way of life? It wasn’t an innocent past — it destroyed the hopes and families and traditions and cultures of untold numbers of women and men in so many other parts of the world, just to uphold a few people in decaying ruins. Yes, English women didn’t have the rights of English men. But the girls in Hong Kong (or Africa or India or Canada) were reduced to far worse.

So on my next trip to the bookstore, I began to look for Chinese authors and I found Dai Sijie, author of Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, who now writes from France but was born and raised in China. The story in Once on a Moonless Night reminds me somewhat of a Chinese Possession (A.S. Byatt even wrote a review of it, saying it “is full of tales within tales and worlds within worlds, ranging from ancient Chinese empires through communist China to modern Beijing”), as it’s the story of a quest to find a torn silk scroll that contains an ancient text in an unknown language and there’s also a love story attached. But it is more subtle and unending than Possession, almost like a dream, there aren’t two clearly defined time periods and sets of characters, there are many that weave in and out, or appear once and then disappear. I was often wondering what was true about Chinese history and what made up for the sake of the story. For instance, is the mysterious language the scroll is written in, Tumchooq, real? Did the country it came from ever exist? What about the Frenchman who eventually decodes it? And the last emperor of China, Puyi, and Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty who was a great calligrapher, poet and artist in the eleventh century, what were they really like? And the Empress Cixi and British involvement in China, when did it start, and I realize I know almost nothing about Chinese history and wish I knew much more than that. Towards the end of the book, the development of Chinese culture and language is filtered through Marco Polo’s (perhaps somewhat falsified?) accounts of his travels and the rise of Buddhism, showing the swamp of intertwining cultures and languages in the east that influenced each other, from India to China, and how unreliable what we think we know about history can be.

The book had a modern narrator (a Frenchwoman in love with languages, who studies not only Chinese, but also Tibetan, an African dialect and Hebrew) and as I say, a love story, with a greengrocer named Tumchooq (for the unknown language his father translated) who also has a mysterious connection to an exiled aristocrat and the Forbidden City. It also describes the harsh conditions of the work camps so many, from common criminals to ‘thought criminals’ (which could include famous authors), were sent to, in Mao’s time. Later on the story moves to a quiet Buddhist monastery and printing press in Burma (or Myanmar), where “mango, orange and avocado trees with cocoa pods peeping from beneath them” flourish. As I read, I suddenly wish to see these things (which now thanks to modern transportation, can be shipped from the tropical climate its grown in to sanitized western grocery stores, completely cut off from where it’s come from, just as tea is now seen as quintessentially British but was in fact originally from Asia), as well as the sun coming over the golden roofs of the Forbidden City.

I want to experience a different culture, to smell and hear and learn new things, although perhaps I’m only succumbing to Orientalism, the lure of the supposedly exotic unknown, and perhaps I’m too late for that anyway, as China now is becoming more capitalist and the past there as here is disappearing. Once on a Moonless Night does not resolve these differences between east and west, the past and present, it merely raises the issues and my curiosity with it. Here is the first half of the text on the torn piece of silk that the characters quest to translate and to find the ending to:

Once on a moonless night a lone man is traveling in the dark when he comes across a long path that merges into the mountain and the mountain into the sky, but halfway along, at a turn in the path, he stumbles. As he falls, he clutches at a tuft of grass, which briefly delays a fatal outcome, but soon his hands can hold him no longer and, like a condemned man in his final hour, he casts one last glance below, where he can see only the darkness of those unfathomable depths…

This is the story of all our lives — we are lost somewhere on a dark path, hoping to survive.

{By the way, I’ve changed my blog name from A Few of my Favourite Books to lilac tea, which better reflects my interests and the direction I hope to take this blog in — away from being rigidly in the book blogging mould and more meditative and casual. I’ve been happy to discover that not only is tea a more international drink than I’ve seen it as, but lilacs, my favourite flower, also show up in Chinese literature! So I’ll be sure to share quotes soon.

To those still interested in reading along, thanks for bearing with me while I change things around a bit. I was considering quitting this sort of blogging all together, but finishing this book earlier today showed me that all I wanted to do was discuss it with anyone who might be interested. I don’t want to rush to finish the books everyone in my corner of the internet is reading just to say I’ve read them anymore, I want to look for the books that personally matter to me, so I will likely be less involved online just so I can feel less overwhelmed and more able to read at my own pace and to figure out the other aspects of my life — I’m wanting to watch more movies and see them as a valuable art form too, as well as figuring out my career and what lies ahead on my own path.}

15 thoughts on “Once on a Moonless Night, by Dai Sijie

    • Carolyn says:

      Thanks, I hope you pick this one up — there’s a lot of history in it, but the plot is suspenseful enough that it’s easy to keep reading.

      (Sorry I never got back to you while I was in Florida, I was in the middle part near Tampa Bay and we were leaving shortly so there wasn’t time to plan anything. But I’ll let you know if we go there again!)

    • Carolyn says:

      Thanks, Audrey. I even found a way to make the background and title text purple, my favourite colour! It’s a relief to please myself, especially when this is only a hobby.

  1. litlove says:

    I have a Dai Sijie novel on my shelves and now am very interested to pick it up. This is a lovely review, and I relate very much to that comment about being lost in dark paths and hoping to survive! Perhaps a little Chinese literature is the way forward for me (I promised myself I’d read some this year). And I’ve found blogging very flexible – what I’ve wanted to write about has changed many times over the years, but I have always appreciated the voices of my blogging friends who are wonderfully supportive and insightful. Often blogging has seemed to become a chore, and then when I’ve needed the community it’s always been there and I realise how hard it would be to give that up.

    • Carolyn says:

      Which novel of his do you have? I’ve skimmed through Balzac & the Little Chinese Seamstress too, and it looks like the main character from that book briefly shows up in Once on a Moonless Night, which was a nice touch. The problem with reading Chinese literature is that a lot of it is rather sad (and for good reason), although I’d love to get my hands on Dream of the Red Chamber, one of the classic Chinese novels from the 18th century.

  2. Darlene says:

    Your new blog title is beautiful and I wish you all the best in your venture. My heart firmly belongs to English authors but I absolutely understand the desire to change direction. Would you believe that around eighteen years ago it was all about Japan for me!

    Glad you are sticking around, Carolyn…enjoy!

    • Carolyn says:

      Thank you, Darlene, I’m still fond of many British authors too and can’t help being interested in the Victorians especially, despite their evil empire ways! 😉 I just picked up The Crimson Petal & the White this morning, I think sometimes I just want to express the negative feelings I have for this priviledged mother culture, instead of just gushing over it without acknowledging its faults.

      I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers read Japanese literature, but I wasn’t drawn towards that, then suddenly China grabbed my interest quite unexpectedly. It’s a nice change.

  3. Jillian says:

    You’re so right about reading: it’s about you, your author in that moment, your imagination and insight as you connect with each world and think in time with each writer.

    It happens at a different pace for everyone. Your path is naturally going to be your own.

    Sending best wishes! 🙂

  4. Nicola says:

    I like your new blog and philosophy, and yes, blogs do evolve over time. I’m thinking of exclusively posting on Austen to reflect my own literary priorites.

    I do like Chinese fiction, particularly Chinese-American fiction. I adore Amy Tan and would highly recommend The Joy Luck Club or the Kitchen God’s Wife. Maxine Hong Kingston is a good writer, too.

  5. Eva says:

    The way he portrayed women in Mr. Muo’s Travelling Couch made me SO angry that I swore off Sijie, but this does sound good. How did you feel about the way women were written about in this one?

    Eileen Chang is definitely my favourite Chinese author so far; I’ve read quite a few, but I find the men almost always write about women in a way that really angers me. So I have yet to connect with very many. As far as the Chinese diaspora, I really enjoyed Shan Sa’s The Girl who Played Go (she lives in France now too; I didn’t get along quite as well with Empress, but it was still well worth reading) and Lan Samantha Chang, a Chinese American.

    I’m glad you’re sticking with blogging! It sounds like your new direction will be good for you; I try to make sure I’m reading books for myself too. It can be difficult at times though! 🙂

  6. Penny says:

    I thought I wasn’t going to be able to comment on your new blog, but then I found the path in! I love the new look and title!

    I know what you mean, of course, about the British and their Empire building. My own grandparents and their parents lived in India. I have difficulty reconciling my feelings about the injustices with my enjoyment of the books. But I’ll stick with them, as I’m happiest reading about places I can relate to. Cowardly probably, but it’s my relaxation! 🙂

    I’m so glad you’re going to continue blogging as you’re one of the blogs I always read, even if sometimes a bit late! Again, I know what you mean about feeling you have to read certain books. For the same reason I’m not too diligent about my local book group any more. I want to read books I’ve chosen for myself or have seen recommended by someone who has similar tastes, rather than ‘the book everyone’s talking about’…

  7. Iris says:

    I’m glad you’re sticking around (says the person who’s on a break of her own atm). I also like your new philosophy. And tea? My absolute favourite 🙂

  8. Bina says:

    That’s a lovely name for your blog! 🙂

    I’ve only read Sijie’s Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, but enjoyed it a lot. This one sounds great as well, will look for it when I’ve had enough of english and american lit 😉

  9. Jim says:

    I share your discouragement with Canadian writers. The one towering exception, to my mind, is Anne Carson. She’s been one of my greatest inspirations ever since I began reading her.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s