BOOKS: “Language” by Xiaolu Guo

LanguageLanguage by Xiaolu Guo
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher Site

This book is excerpted from a full-length novel entitled, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers, and it conveys what it’s like to be a stranger in a strange land — particularly when one has only a rudimentary grasp of the local language. Specifically, the story revolves around a young Chinese woman who moves to London to pursue her studies. In London, the young woman becomes involved with an older man, and much of the story looks at how culture — and particularly language — impacts the nature of the relationship. (And, also, how being in a relationship with a native of her new home impacts her language learning.)

Perhaps the most important factor influencing whether a reader will like or loath this book is how one feels about reading broken English. Like the dialectic poetry of Paul Laurence Dunbar, this book isn’t written in grammatically correct standard English. The broken – “learner’s” – English is quite effective at conveying the struggle of language learning and how culture and language are intertwined. But if reading grammatically incorrect writing gives you a headache, then this book is not for you.

As for why this book consists of excerpts, it’s part of a series called “Vintage Minis” that consists of short (or excerpted) works from prominent authors from around the globe, generally with a straightforward unifying theme. [Vintage Classics is an imprint of Penguin Random House.] The fact that the book was an excerpt didn’t create a problem for me. The origin material is a literary fiction novel and doesn’t seem to be significantly plot-driven. It’s much more character-driven, and thus getting a limited picture doesn’t open up a lot of unanswered questions about what will come next. In other words, it felt like it could have been a full piece of short, character-driven literary fiction.

I enjoyed reading this slim volume. I think it offers interesting insight into being a language learner abroad. If you’re interested in the challenges of language and culture in an unfamiliar place, this thin book is well worth reading.

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“Fulani Creation Myth” by Anonymous [w/ Audio]

At the beginning there was a huge drop of milk.
Then Doondari came and he created the stone.
Then the stone created iron;
And iron created fire;
And fire created water;
And water created air.
Then Doondari descended the second time.
And he took the five elements
And he shaped them into man.
But man was proud.
Then Doondari created blindness,
and blindness defeated man.
But when blindness became too proud,
Doondari created sleep,
and sleep defeated blindness;
But when sleep became too proud,
Doondari created worry,
and worry defeated sleep;
But when worry became too proud,
Doondari created death,
and death defeated worry.
But then death became too proud,
Doondari descended for the third time,
And he came as Gueno, the eternal one.
And Gueno defeated death.

NOTE: The Fulani (also known as Fula and Fulbe) are a West African herding tribe that live in Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Guinea, and Senegal.

“I’m Happy to Be a Free Yogi” by Drukpa Kunley [w/ Audio]

I'm happy to be a free Yogi,
growing evermore into inner happiness.

I can have sex with many women
as it helps them find the path of liberation.

Outwardly I'm a fool
and inwardly I live a clear spiritual path.

Outwardly I enjoy wine and women
and inwardly I work for the benefit of all beings.

Outwardly I live for my pleasure
and inwardly I do everything in the right moment.

Outwardly I'm a ragged beggar
and inwardly a blissful Buddha.

“Toward the South” by Guillaume Apollinaire [w/ Audio]

Zenith
These griefs
These gardens on and on
Where the toad croons a tender cry skyblue
The hind of silence startled races by
The nightingale that love has bruised sings in
Your body's bush on which I've picked each rose
Our hearts hang from the same pomegranate bough
And in our gaze pomegranate blossoms blow
That falling one by one have strewn the road

Translator: Harry Duncan

“Still will I harvest beauty where it grows” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Still will I harvest beauty where it grows:
In coloured fungus and the spotted fog
Surprised on foods forgotten; in ditch and bog
Filmed brilliant with irregular rainbows
Of rust and oil, where half a city throws
Its empty tins; and in some spongy log
Whence headlong leaps the oozy emerald frog...
And a black pupil in the green scum shows.
Her the inhabiter of divers places
Surmising at all doors, I push them all.
Oh, you that fearful of a creaking hinge
Turn back forevermore with craven faces,
I tell you Beauty bears an ultra fringe
Unguessed of you upon her gossamer shawl!

“The Poets light but Lamps –” (930) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

The Poets light but Lamps --
Themselves -- go out --
The Wicks they stimulate
If vital Light

Inhere as do the Suns --
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference --

“The Friend” by A.A. Milne [w/ Audio]

By E.H. Shepard; Public Domain; Source: Wikimedia Commons
There are lots and lots of people who are always asking things,
Like Dates and Pounds-and-ounces and the names of funny Kings,
And the answer's either Sixpence or A Hundred Inches Long,
And I know they'll think me silly if I get the answer wrong.

So Pooh and I go whispering, and Pooh looks very bright,
And says, "Well, I say sixpence, but I don't suppose I'm right,"
And then it doesn't matter what the answer ought to be,
'Cos if he's right, I'm Right, and if he's wrong, it isn't Me.

“A Dream Within a Dream” by Edgar Allan Poe [w/ Audio]

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow --
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand --
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep -- while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

“Tiantai” [天台] by Fēnggān [w/ Audio]

I came once to Tiantai,
And back ten-thousand times.
Like clouds or water tides:
Drift and flow, come and go.
I stroll, free of worry,
Buddha's Path - in no hurry.
While the world's forked roads
Lead men to fret and scurry.

“No Man Is an Island” by John Donne [w/ Audio]

No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were.

Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know
for whom the bell tolls;
I tolls for thee.