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The Man with the Compound Eyes
On the island of Wayo Wayo, every second son must leave on the day he turns fifteen as a sacrifice to the Sea God. Atile'i is one such boy, but as the strongest swimmer and best sailor, he is determined to defy destiny and become the first to survive.
Alice Shih, who has lost her husband and son in a climbing accident, is quietly preparing to commit suicide in her house by the sea. But her plan is interrupted when a vast trash vortex comes crashing onto the shore of Taiwan, bringing Atile'i with it.
In the aftermath of the catastrophe, Atile'i and Alice retrace her late husband's footsteps into the mountains, hoping to solve the mystery of her son's disappearance. On their journey, memories will be challenged, an unusual bond formed, and a dark secret uncovered that will force Alice to question everything she thought she knew.
Alice Shih, who has lost her husband and son in a climbing accident, is quietly preparing to commit suicide in her house by the sea. But her plan is interrupted when a vast trash vortex comes crashing onto the shore of Taiwan, bringing Atile'i with it.
In the aftermath of the catastrophe, Atile'i and Alice retrace her late husband's footsteps into the mountains, hoping to solve the mystery of her son's disappearance. On their journey, memories will be challenged, an unusual bond formed, and a dark secret uncovered that will force Alice to question everything she thought she knew.
304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2011
About the author
Wu Ming-Yi
18 books233 followers Writer, painter, designer, photographer, literary professor, butterfly scholar, environmental activist, traveler and blogger rolled into one, Wu Ming-Yi is very much a modern Renaissance Man. Over the last decade, he has produced an impressive body of work, especially with his fiction and nature writing.
Wu Ming-Yi (b.1971) studied advertising at Fu-Jen Catholic University and has a PhD in Chinese Literature from National Central University. He has been teaching literature and creative writing at Dong Hwa University since 2000 and is now Professor of the Department of Chinese.
Wu’s literary reputation was first established by his nature writing. In THE BOOK OF LOST BUTTERFLIES (2000) and THE WAY OF BUTTERFLIES (2003), he chronicles his lifelong fascination with this beautiful creature and contemplates the invisible bond between man and nature. He wrote, designed, and provided drawings and photographs for the books, as if crafting works of art. Both books made the “Best of the Year” lists, with THE WAY OF BUTTERFLIES winning China Times’ Open Book Award and being chosen as one of the ten most influential books by Kingstore Bookstore.
In 2006, juggling academic life and the need for a period of uninterrupted time for his writing and traveling, Wu decided to resign from his teaching post. This is unheard of in a country where almost no one can make a living writing full-time and many would fight for a stable teaching job. In the end, Dong Hwa University gave Wu a year of sabbatical leave – they didn't want to lose him.
A year later, Wu published two books: his third collection of nature writing, SO MUCH WATER SO CLOSE TO HOME, and his debut novel, ROUTES IN THE DREAM. DREAM re-imagines Taiwan’s complicated history as a Japanese colony and examines the relationship between fathers and sons, memory and dreams. Hailed as a groundbreaking work of literary historical fiction, it was nominated for every major award and was chosen as one of the ten best Chinese-language novels of the year by Asian Weekly magazine (along with Ai Mi’s Hawthorn Tree Forever, Liu Zhenyun’s My Name Is Liu Yuejin, and Dai Sijie’s Once on a Moonless Night) . Wu was the only Taiwanese author on the list.
It is his eco-fantasy novel THE MAN WITH THE COMPOUND EYES (2011), however, that has gained Wu international recognition, with major English and French translations appearing in 2013 and 2014. A “Taiwanese Life of Pi”, it is an ambitious exploration of Taiwan's island identity, the cost of environmental degradation, and how humans make sense of the world around them, at once poetic, philosophical and far-reaching. It has already caught the attention of major writers in the genre such as Ursula K. Le Guin.
Wu Ming-Yi (b.1971) studied advertising at Fu-Jen Catholic University and has a PhD in Chinese Literature from National Central University. He has been teaching literature and creative writing at Dong Hwa University since 2000 and is now Professor of the Department of Chinese.
Wu’s literary reputation was first established by his nature writing. In THE BOOK OF LOST BUTTERFLIES (2000) and THE WAY OF BUTTERFLIES (2003), he chronicles his lifelong fascination with this beautiful creature and contemplates the invisible bond between man and nature. He wrote, designed, and provided drawings and photographs for the books, as if crafting works of art. Both books made the “Best of the Year” lists, with THE WAY OF BUTTERFLIES winning China Times’ Open Book Award and being chosen as one of the ten most influential books by Kingstore Bookstore.
In 2006, juggling academic life and the need for a period of uninterrupted time for his writing and traveling, Wu decided to resign from his teaching post. This is unheard of in a country where almost no one can make a living writing full-time and many would fight for a stable teaching job. In the end, Dong Hwa University gave Wu a year of sabbatical leave – they didn't want to lose him.
A year later, Wu published two books: his third collection of nature writing, SO MUCH WATER SO CLOSE TO HOME, and his debut novel, ROUTES IN THE DREAM. DREAM re-imagines Taiwan’s complicated history as a Japanese colony and examines the relationship between fathers and sons, memory and dreams. Hailed as a groundbreaking work of literary historical fiction, it was nominated for every major award and was chosen as one of the ten best Chinese-language novels of the year by Asian Weekly magazine (along with Ai Mi’s Hawthorn Tree Forever, Liu Zhenyun’s My Name Is Liu Yuejin, and Dai Sijie’s Once on a Moonless Night) . Wu was the only Taiwanese author on the list.
It is his eco-fantasy novel THE MAN WITH THE COMPOUND EYES (2011), however, that has gained Wu international recognition, with major English and French translations appearing in 2013 and 2014. A “Taiwanese Life of Pi”, it is an ambitious exploration of Taiwan's island identity, the cost of environmental degradation, and how humans make sense of the world around them, at once poetic, philosophical and far-reaching. It has already caught the attention of major writers in the genre such as Ursula K. Le Guin.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 432 reviews
May 15, 2022
Taiwanese writer, professor and environmental activist Wu Ming-Yi gives us innovative ecofiction: We meet an indigenous teenager named Atile'i, who, as a second son, is sent out to sea to die, as it is custom for the Wayo Wayo people. But the young man is saved when he reaches a major trash vortex which finally collides with the Taiwanese coast. There, he meets Alice, a suicidal professor who has just lost her husband and her young son and is only kept alive by a small cat. Together, they try to take on their respectives destinies...
Extreme heat and rain, raging waters and storms, trash tsunamis: Wu Ming-Yi shows our eco system as it is about to callapse. Apart from the two fascinating main characters, we meet a supporting cast and learn about their views - and we get a lot of skilled nature writing, both about beauty and about man-made decay. Realistic descriptions are juxtaposed with transcendent takes, mainly from indigenous myths, and questions about identity are crashing down under piles of animal corpses and plastic wrappings.
The title-giving man with the compund eyes really features in the last third, and as the author points out, he stands for the ability to take more than one viewpoint, including the perspectives of animals and plants. But the compound eyes also reflect the mosaic structure of the text, and the attempt of Wu Ming-Yi to let his readers see through multiples lenses.
A great read which is way more than a moral parable or magic realism.
Extreme heat and rain, raging waters and storms, trash tsunamis: Wu Ming-Yi shows our eco system as it is about to callapse. Apart from the two fascinating main characters, we meet a supporting cast and learn about their views - and we get a lot of skilled nature writing, both about beauty and about man-made decay. Realistic descriptions are juxtaposed with transcendent takes, mainly from indigenous myths, and questions about identity are crashing down under piles of animal corpses and plastic wrappings.
The title-giving man with the compund eyes really features in the last third, and as the author points out, he stands for the ability to take more than one viewpoint, including the perspectives of animals and plants. But the compound eyes also reflect the mosaic structure of the text, and the attempt of Wu Ming-Yi to let his readers see through multiples lenses.
A great read which is way more than a moral parable or magic realism.
March 31, 2016
Expect some magic and references to be lost in translation, as the book is originally written in Mandarin.
I found myself translating English back to Mandarin at some points and found the writing rather poetic. Even so, I appreciate the translation choices, most of which kept the references and/or lyrical nature of the writing. The book can get quite didactic at some points, but bearably so.
The immersive and lyrical writing transported me into a world of magical realism, and I returned to my own reality with fresh new eyes and burdens of my own.
If you're not into multiple narratives, non-linear narratives, or magical realism, you may not enjoy this book. But if you're looking for something to get you into any of the above without jumping head first into Haruki Murakami, Natsuo Kirino or Neil Gaiman's work then I think this short book might just be the thing for you.
I found myself translating English back to Mandarin at some points and found the writing rather poetic. Even so, I appreciate the translation choices, most of which kept the references and/or lyrical nature of the writing. The book can get quite didactic at some points, but bearably so.
The immersive and lyrical writing transported me into a world of magical realism, and I returned to my own reality with fresh new eyes and burdens of my own.
If you're not into multiple narratives, non-linear narratives, or magical realism, you may not enjoy this book. But if you're looking for something to get you into any of the above without jumping head first into Haruki Murakami, Natsuo Kirino or Neil Gaiman's work then I think this short book might just be the thing for you.
December 17, 2019
Igazából minden adott ahhoz, hogy ez a könyv bukó legyen. Hisz annyi minden van belezsúfolva, annyi minden akar lenni egyszerre: 1.) családi dráma Alice-szal a középpontban, aki egyszerre veszítette el fiát és férjét 2.) kis tajvani mindentudó – a sziget geográfiájának, történelmének, törzseinek, törzsi hiedelmeinek és állatvilágának röpke bemutatása 3.) és még egy szemétsziget is száguld Tajvan felé apokaliptikus ökológiai katasztrófát ígérve – ez ugye már tudományos fantasztikum 4.) a szemétszigettel együtt pedig érkezik Atile'i is, aki egy anakronisztikus törzsi társadalom képviselője, és még sosem látott fehér embert 5.) meg ugye a macska. És mégis jó – sőt, pofátlanul jó. Wu Ming-Yi képes úgy elmondani egy tanmesét az emberi felelőtlenségről, arról, hogy – ami az általunk okozott környezeti ártalmakat illeti – a nulladik órában vagyunk, hogy mégsem érezzük propagandaízűnek az egészet – talán mert közben a cselekmény marad hangsúlyos, a szereplők egyéni tragédiái vannak középpontban, maguk a szereplők pedig pazarul vannak beledolgozva a szövegbe. Ami különösen annak fényében bravúros, hogy – mint fentebb említettem – zsúfolt könyv ez, és ez a szereplők számát illetően is igaz. Mégsem éreztem egy percig sem, hogy Wu Ming-Yi valamelyik figuráját csak úgy odakente volna: mindegyik elevenre van formázva, és mindegyiknek megvan a maga nélkülözhetetlen feladata a regénytérben. De ami engem leginkább megragadott (és erre csak jó órával azután jöttem rá, hogy becsuktam a könyvet), az az, hogy a szerző úgy tud végtelenül szomorú és végtelenül keserű szöveget írni, hogy közben az összes szereplője szerethető és szimpatikus marad. Talán azt akarja ezzel mondani, hogy nem az egyes ember a hibás: az egyes ember szerethető*. De az emberek sokasága, az emberek tömege már felelőtlen és veszélyes. Vagy talán nem ezt. De akárhogy is, jól mondja.
* Kivéve persze azt a fullasztó aurájú nénit, akivel tegnap összevesztem a facebook-on, mert azt állította, hogy a fasizmus nem rasszista ideológia. A wikipédia pedig liberálbolsevik izé, ha mást mond. Őt nem tudom szeretni, bocsánat Ezt meghagyom másnak.
* Kivéve persze azt a fullasztó aurájú nénit, akivel tegnap összevesztem a facebook-on, mert azt állította, hogy a fasizmus nem rasszista ideológia. A wikipédia pedig liberálbolsevik izé, ha mást mond. Őt nem tudom szeretni, bocsánat Ezt meghagyom másnak.
February 10, 2014
I started this book with an excited curiosity and this continued throughout the book. The intertwining story lines and the non linear weaving of memories providing beautifully detailed back stories for every character introduced alongside the progression of the story line had me hooked. This book is about passion and loss on so many levels. Loss of self, loved ones, traditions, identity, nature, ways of life and life itself. The raw and complex beauty of this book really captured me, there are elements of pure fantasy yet the attention to detail created a place in my mind where I could hold the possibility that somewhere like Wayo Wayo could possibly exist undiscovered in our world. Alongside the fantastical elements this book is grounded in strong personal narratives with all the characters playing an engaging and key role in telling this beautiful and fragile story. There is also a strong ecological element throughout this book reminding us continually that due to the heavy handed nature of man coupled with mass production and consumption that we are relentlessly destroying the beautiful natural balance of this world we live in. All in all a beautiful and achingly sad story which I can't recommend highly enough.
February 21, 2022
Söyleyeceğim çok şey var ama şimdilik:
Muazzam.
İnsanın içine işleyen bir roman. Kimi bölümleri büyülü gerçeklikle bezenmiş, sanki çok kadim hikayeler anlatılıyor, öylesine etkileyici. Kimi bölümlerinde sanki hayatınızdan parçalar alınıp sunuluyor, öylesine gerçekçi ve vurucu. Sonra bu iki gerçeklik birbiriyle kesişiyor ve her şey iki kat güzelleşiyor.
Çok sevdim, vuruldum.
Çevirisi de (İkinci dilden olmasına rağmen) muhteşem.
Muazzam.
İnsanın içine işleyen bir roman. Kimi bölümleri büyülü gerçeklikle bezenmiş, sanki çok kadim hikayeler anlatılıyor, öylesine etkileyici. Kimi bölümlerinde sanki hayatınızdan parçalar alınıp sunuluyor, öylesine gerçekçi ve vurucu. Sonra bu iki gerçeklik birbiriyle kesişiyor ve her şey iki kat güzelleşiyor.
Çok sevdim, vuruldum.
Çevirisi de (İkinci dilden olmasına rağmen) muhteşem.
February 28, 2018
Bu puanı veriyorum ama aslında beklediğim kadar etkileyici bulmadım ben. Hikaye çok kopuktu, karakterler arasında bağlantı kuramadım okurken.
Sanırım her şey etkileyici girişin suçu. Yani gerçekten! Harika bir giriş, idare eder bir gelişme, iyi bir sonuç okudum.
Ve her şeye rağmen yazarın dili öyle keyifli ki sanırım bu puanı vermemin esas nedeni o. Çünkü daha aşağısı içime sinmeyecekti, ama bu puanı verecek kadarda beğenmedim bilmiyorum ya iyisi mi uzakdoğu edebiyatı severler bir şans versin ben iptal. #beyinbedava
Sanırım her şey etkileyici girişin suçu. Yani gerçekten! Harika bir giriş, idare eder bir gelişme, iyi bir sonuç okudum.
Ve her şeye rağmen yazarın dili öyle keyifli ki sanırım bu puanı vermemin esas nedeni o. Çünkü daha aşağısı içime sinmeyecekti, ama bu puanı verecek kadarda beğenmedim bilmiyorum ya iyisi mi uzakdoğu edebiyatı severler bir şans versin ben iptal. #beyinbedava
October 23, 2022
L'acció humana provoca la destrucció del medi ambient a un ritme que probablement ja és irreversible. Un exemple d'això són els vòrtex d'escombraries que hi ha als oceans, autèntiques illes de deixalles grans com països. La del Pacífic és protagonista en aquesta història ja que unirà dues persones que venen de mons diferents: l'Atrie i l'Alice.
L'escenari és una Taiwan castigada pel canvi climàtic, on el mar es va menjant la terra i la pluja no para de caure. L'Atrie ve de Wayo-Wayo, una illa pràcticament verge i plena d'espiritualitat. L'Alice no té motius per viure perquè ha perdut marit i fill en un accident de muntanya. Tant ells com els altres personatges es necessiten, però també són illes en ells mateixos, amb la seva història i el seu propi univers que tindrem el privilegi de conèixer a fons.
Tot el llibre és un cant a la natura, al respecte, però també exposa la nostra vulnerabilitat davant els elements. Dona veu a les ètnies minoritàries de Taiwan, la seva parla, els seus costums. És una narració preciosa, però trista. Onírica i mística, però terriblement realista i premonitòria. Tendra, però dura. Plena de rondalles i llegendes, de records, però també de tot el mal que causem al nostre món.
Estic aclaparat. Hi ha tantes coses que voldria dir d'aquest llibre... És magnètic, una narració que t'abraça a cada paraula, però alhora commou i et deixa desolat. Les úniques advertències: és llarg i de ritme lent. Però es degusta. Té tocs fantàstics, realisme màgic, però traieu-li les etiquetes i atreviu-vos-hi a poc que estimeu la natura i el planeta. Edició i il·lustració fantàstiques; traducció directa del xinès extraordinària, flueix perfectament. Una petita joia que mereix tenir recorregut a casa nostra.
(SERGI)
L'escenari és una Taiwan castigada pel canvi climàtic, on el mar es va menjant la terra i la pluja no para de caure. L'Atrie ve de Wayo-Wayo, una illa pràcticament verge i plena d'espiritualitat. L'Alice no té motius per viure perquè ha perdut marit i fill en un accident de muntanya. Tant ells com els altres personatges es necessiten, però també són illes en ells mateixos, amb la seva història i el seu propi univers que tindrem el privilegi de conèixer a fons.
Tot el llibre és un cant a la natura, al respecte, però també exposa la nostra vulnerabilitat davant els elements. Dona veu a les ètnies minoritàries de Taiwan, la seva parla, els seus costums. És una narració preciosa, però trista. Onírica i mística, però terriblement realista i premonitòria. Tendra, però dura. Plena de rondalles i llegendes, de records, però també de tot el mal que causem al nostre món.
Estic aclaparat. Hi ha tantes coses que voldria dir d'aquest llibre... És magnètic, una narració que t'abraça a cada paraula, però alhora commou i et deixa desolat. Les úniques advertències: és llarg i de ritme lent. Però es degusta. Té tocs fantàstics, realisme màgic, però traieu-li les etiquetes i atreviu-vos-hi a poc que estimeu la natura i el planeta. Edició i il·lustració fantàstiques; traducció directa del xinès extraordinària, flueix perfectament. Una petita joia que mereix tenir recorregut a casa nostra.
(SERGI)
April 18, 2018
I discovered his eyes weren't like human eyes. They were more like compound eyes composed of countless single eyes, the eyes of clouds, mountains, streams, meadowlarks and muntjacs, all arranged together. As I gazed, each little eye seemed to contain a different scene, and those scenes arranged to form a vast panorama the likes of which I had never seen.
I was dismayed when I read an article the other day about the Man Booker International Prize committee's decision to bow to Chinese diplomatic pressure and change the nationality of one of this year's nominees from “Taiwan” to “Taiwan, China” against that author's wishes: if a dissident writer can't rely on some little apolitical literary jury to symbolically back his fight against Chinese expansionism, what does that say about the world today? I couldn't find the nominated title (The Stolen Bicycle) anywhere, but was pleased to discover The Man with the Compound Eyes by Wu Ming-Yi on a discount table at the book store; 'twas fated. While a sometimes didactic work of enviro-fiction, I was pleased to have made this author's acquaintance through his work and can only stress that, more than anything else, this is a Taiwanese book.
The Man with the Compound Eyes feels equal parts allegory, realism, and eco-warning. It opens on the uncharted Pacific island of Wayo Wayo: a resource-restricted landmass whose primitive population has the good sense to control their numbers by sending second-born sons on suicide missions across the waves when they turn fifteen. Yet, just as one so expelled, Atile'i, finds himself at the limits of his endurance and supplies, his canoe abruptly “lands” on a floating swirl of rubbish – the Great Pacific Trash Vortex, the Giant Garbage Gyre, the “Primeval Plastic Soup” – and he is saved.
The past few years the government's poured tons of funding into reducing the amount of garbage in the vortex, but it's actually a scam. Think about it. Where is the trash supposed to be buried after it's been cleaned up? All the incinerators, landfills and advanced trash-sorting facilities on the island wouldn't have enough capacity to digest it all. You think Ilan and Taipei will welcome the garbage out of the goodness of their hearts? Dammit! Japan and China have been passing the buck, but garbage is fair, and now the ocean currents have broken the vortex up and everyone's getting what's coming to him.
Meanwhile, on the island of Taiwan, Alice Shih is a professor and writer whose husband and son are long overdue from a mountain-climbing trip, and the only thing that saves her from her despairing thoughts is the helpless kitten that washes up to the window of her seaside home via a rogue wave. The environment is changing in Taiwan – drilling causes earthquakes causes giant waves causes seashore erosion; the summers are increasingly hotter and the typhoon season wetter – and it's the aboriginal people who are feeling these changes the most; traditional fisherman are finding it harder to feed their families and prostitution is often the only option for a young woman new to the city. When a massive tsunami carries part of the trash vortex onto Taiwan's shores, not only does it further degrade the island's fragile environment, but Atile'i is literally deposited on Alice's doorstep; providing the perfect juxtaposition of pastoral innocence against modern dissipation.
Many other characters are introduced, including aboriginal people from different tribes who describe their disappearing traditional ways of life and share their unique folklore (I have no idea if these passages are accurate, but they might represent Wu Ming-Yi's attempts to record Taiwanese traditions before they're gone forever); including a Norse environmentalist whose father insisted on his traditional right to hunt one whale per year until he witnessed the inhumanity of the Newfoundland seal hunt, which turned him into an activist, too; including a German engineer who had been hired to tunnel a highway through a mountain on the island many years before, who now regrets the land-scarring project:
Going through a mountain to get from place to place as quickly as possible is one way of life, while going around is another. We thought we were making a scientific judgment, but actually we were making a lifestyle choice.
I do like this “lifestyle choice” passage as a fitting rebuke against modern excesses, but I often found the environmental bits to be overly long and scolding, and sometimes questionable (I really don't believe that callous and impatient Newfoundlanders skin seals alive, or that they homocidally attack protesters with their hakapiks). And, overall, I had to wonder if something was lost in translation:
“You know very well...” the man says, his ommatidium flickering, his compound eyes like an undertow that would suck you in, drag you down and drown you, “...there's nobody up there, at all. Nobody at all.”
I encountered many words that struck me oddly like “ommatidium” in that quote – words like elytra, columbarium, or comminuted – that while scientifically/literally accurate in translation, would never be the words used by a native English writer; what greater nuance am I missing out on?
The Man with the Compound Eyes is somehow both an imaginative and an informative environmental fable, and while the lessons might have been a bit too unsubtle for my literary tastes, I'm very happy to have now read Wu Ming-Yi and have a bit more perspective on this Taiwanese writer and his points-of-view.
January 2, 2015
Love the book. The background is my father's beautiful hometown - Hualien county in Taiwan. Love how the aboriginal culture and people that are so familiar to me being very beautifully written into words. Love the author's story telling style -- nonlinear yet very easy to follow. Love the imagination and the relationship between human-to-human and human-to-nature in this book. It's a book that makes me miss home so badly, highly recommended!
July 3, 2014
I won this book in a Goodreads Giveaway which did not influence my review.
This was a difficult book for me to both read and review because while the message the author wished to convey had great merit, I can't say I enjoyed reading it very much. It was a lot of work, getting through this book, especially the first half when seemingly unrelated characters and their stories had yet to converge. Adding to the difficulty was the flatness of these characters who all talked in the same way, regardless of their education and background. Even the island youth who had never been exposed to other civilizations, spoke or thought in colloquialisms, which was quite jarring. To be fair, it may have had more to do with the book's translation into English than with the original writings of the author, a native of Taiwan.
Viewed strictly as a story used to raise awareness of the delicate balance in the world's ecology and man's systematic abuse of the environment and the drastic results of it, I felt the book was a success, though heavy handed and didactic, at times. But the way in which the author went about his storytelling, while original, was confusing, going back and forth in time, and veering off on many tangents in which minor characters took center stage over the the main characters. And with pages and pages devoted to their back stories and to facts relating to pollution, the effects of overpopulation, waste management, geological devastation caused by businesses, etc., the actual story at the book's center, which interested me the most, was buried under it.
It wasn't until the last third of the book that the myth and mysticism blended well with the realism, allowing the story as a whole to shine. Only then did I feel anything for these characters, each burdened in their own ways with wanting to heal their inner world and the outer world in which they lived. The ending was pretty amazing and left me stunned. And even though I didn't enjoy reading all of the book, I think the story will stay with me for some time and cause me to think twice about the amount of trash I dispose of.
This was a difficult book for me to both read and review because while the message the author wished to convey had great merit, I can't say I enjoyed reading it very much. It was a lot of work, getting through this book, especially the first half when seemingly unrelated characters and their stories had yet to converge. Adding to the difficulty was the flatness of these characters who all talked in the same way, regardless of their education and background. Even the island youth who had never been exposed to other civilizations, spoke or thought in colloquialisms, which was quite jarring. To be fair, it may have had more to do with the book's translation into English than with the original writings of the author, a native of Taiwan.
Viewed strictly as a story used to raise awareness of the delicate balance in the world's ecology and man's systematic abuse of the environment and the drastic results of it, I felt the book was a success, though heavy handed and didactic, at times. But the way in which the author went about his storytelling, while original, was confusing, going back and forth in time, and veering off on many tangents in which minor characters took center stage over the the main characters. And with pages and pages devoted to their back stories and to facts relating to pollution, the effects of overpopulation, waste management, geological devastation caused by businesses, etc., the actual story at the book's center, which interested me the most, was buried under it.
It wasn't until the last third of the book that the myth and mysticism blended well with the realism, allowing the story as a whole to shine. Only then did I feel anything for these characters, each burdened in their own ways with wanting to heal their inner world and the outer world in which they lived. The ending was pretty amazing and left me stunned. And even though I didn't enjoy reading all of the book, I think the story will stay with me for some time and cause me to think twice about the amount of trash I dispose of.
September 9, 2024
❝No beach, no matter what the island, can hold the waves.❞
This was a really interesting and thought-provoking novel!! The Man with the Compound Eyes deals with the catastrophic and violent impact of climate change, through the lives of ordinary people in Taiwan and a neighbouring indigenous (fictional) island called Wayo Wayo.
❝You must love the land, my children, and ring it in with your love. For the land is the most precious thing on this island. It is like rain, like the heart of a woman.❞
I really enjoyed the writing! The story is beautifully translated by Darryl Sterk.
My one minor complaint about the book is the alternating POV chapters; it was a little hard for me to get into the story at first because of them.
❝The sea cannot be taught. You learn it with your life,❞
[read this for my Critical Ecologies course]
November 15, 2023
L'Atile'i és un segon fill de Wayo Wayo, i com a tal el seu destí és oferir la vida als déus de l'oceà mitjançant un ritual a mar obert. Però és un excel·lent nedador i l'amor que sent per Rasula li donarà forces per no defallir.
L'Alice va perdre el marit i el fill en un accident a la muntanya i no té cap raó per viure. El seu intent de suïcidi, però, es veurà interromput per la col·lisió d'una enorme massa de residus enfront de casa seva, una illa artificial gegantina que retorna als humans tota la brossa que han llençat al mar i on ha anat a petar el jove Atile'i en el seu 'viatge'.
Les vides d'aquests dos personatges es veuran de cop unides pel lligam invisible i màgic del destí. A la veu narrativa de l'Atile'i i l'Alice l'autor hi afegeix la dels habitants de Taiwan pertanyents a altres tribus i ètnies com en Dahu o la Hafay, completant així un conjunt de veus d'allò més interessant i seductor.
La novel·la barreja elements fantàstics fruit de la mitologia dels Wayo Wayo amb el realisme de la vida taiwanesa, no exempta de misticisme gràcies a les tradicions dels seus múltiples aborígens. Wu Ming-Yi, escriptor i activista mediambiental, aprofita la història per teixir un potent rerefons de crítica ecològica i defensar formes de vida respectuoses amb la natura com les de les petites comunitats aïllades del Pacífic.
A mig camí de la prosa de David Mitchell i Haruki Murakami, Wu Ming-Yi ens narra una història fascinant plena de poesia, bells paratges naturals i elements sobrenaturals que arriba al cor i colpeix amb l'ímpetu de la forta maror. En els capítols finals, on es desvelen els secrets i la veritat surt a la llum, el text es converteix en una maregassa d'emocions que deixarà un rastre devastador a la platja del nostre inconscient durant molts dies.
Pot sonar pedant que digui que aquest llibre m'ha canviat la vida, però en certa manera m'ha canviat la forma de concebre-la, i això no és gens comú. Poques vegades he trobat tanta màgia i tanta bellesa en una novel·la. No és pas estrany que Ursula K. Le Guin l'enaltís i la comparés amb el realisme màgic Sud-americà. I si ho diu Le Guin, qui sóc jo per contradir-la?
L'Alice va perdre el marit i el fill en un accident a la muntanya i no té cap raó per viure. El seu intent de suïcidi, però, es veurà interromput per la col·lisió d'una enorme massa de residus enfront de casa seva, una illa artificial gegantina que retorna als humans tota la brossa que han llençat al mar i on ha anat a petar el jove Atile'i en el seu 'viatge'.
Les vides d'aquests dos personatges es veuran de cop unides pel lligam invisible i màgic del destí. A la veu narrativa de l'Atile'i i l'Alice l'autor hi afegeix la dels habitants de Taiwan pertanyents a altres tribus i ètnies com en Dahu o la Hafay, completant així un conjunt de veus d'allò més interessant i seductor.
La novel·la barreja elements fantàstics fruit de la mitologia dels Wayo Wayo amb el realisme de la vida taiwanesa, no exempta de misticisme gràcies a les tradicions dels seus múltiples aborígens. Wu Ming-Yi, escriptor i activista mediambiental, aprofita la història per teixir un potent rerefons de crítica ecològica i defensar formes de vida respectuoses amb la natura com les de les petites comunitats aïllades del Pacífic.
A mig camí de la prosa de David Mitchell i Haruki Murakami, Wu Ming-Yi ens narra una història fascinant plena de poesia, bells paratges naturals i elements sobrenaturals que arriba al cor i colpeix amb l'ímpetu de la forta maror. En els capítols finals, on es desvelen els secrets i la veritat surt a la llum, el text es converteix en una maregassa d'emocions que deixarà un rastre devastador a la platja del nostre inconscient durant molts dies.
Pot sonar pedant que digui que aquest llibre m'ha canviat la vida, però en certa manera m'ha canviat la forma de concebre-la, i això no és gens comú. Poques vegades he trobat tanta màgia i tanta bellesa en una novel·la. No és pas estrany que Ursula K. Le Guin l'enaltís i la comparés amb el realisme màgic Sud-americà. I si ho diu Le Guin, qui sóc jo per contradir-la?
June 30, 2023
2.25 stars.
The first book of 2023 is out, and the first book of 2023... was a major disappointment. I won't say it was a bad book because it was evident that a lot of effort and energy went into it, so to call it a mess would be unfair. And hidden behind all the symbolism, there's probably a beautiful message, and I hope other people can find it.
But diving deeper... No, I couldn't make sense of this. Firstly, the book was 90% flashbacks, and although it may have suited this book, it's just not my taste. There were so many characters reflecting on certain events in their lives, and those flashbacks seemed randomly chosen. Not all of them, but some were, and it completely confused me. If flashbacks dominate the majority of your story, I expect them to be related to the overarching plot, but that wasn't always the case here. Especially with secondary characters who, in my opinion, didn't contribute much to the main storyline. A story is not a story without characters, and almost every book needs supporting characters, but their flashbacks didn't add much to the story's message and, in fact, detracted from it.
Speaking of characters, I didn't understand them well. And by that, I mean the way these characters were introduced in the story. Normally, the various threads of characters converge at a certain point in the story, or at least, that's usually the case, and as a reader, you get to see how they are connected. But in this case, that wasn't so, or at least, I was left confused about their actual relationships. There are two main characters, clearly, but the rest remained vague. Sure, some supporting characters had an impact on the main characters, but others seemed to lead their own lives without contributing to the advancement of the story or strengthening the book's message. In fact, some characters had their own message that, as mentioned before, diverted from the main message of the book.
Side note: I also didn't find the characters particularly interesting – there were very few that truly caught my attention. To be honest, I only found Atile'i fascinating, with his cultural background and unique customs. The rest of the characters were flat and minimally developed, and some were nothing more than names on a page, which always feels lacking to me. With such a short book, more effort could have been put into this, even if the characters weren't always essential.
Now, let's talk about the story itself, which a) started very slowly, b) was mostly unclear to me, and c) left me quite confused. The environmental themes included in it are understandable, and I have nothing against them, but their connection to Alice's storyline remains unclear to me. Maybe that environmental message, like her primary storyline, has an influence on her personality, I don't know. It would be nice, but I didn't see it, and character development is usually something I care a lot about in books. Furthermore, there were too many perspectives and flashbacks to effectively portray climate change and convey the message. Sure, it's nice if you can depict the impact of climate change through the influence it has on a character. But when you throw in so many flashbacks and perspectives into the story, you can't develop all the characters so deeply and give them clear personalities – let alone show the development of those personalities resulting from climate change.
There seemed to be a lot of symbolism, and normally I have nothing against that, but this book seemed to consist of 70% symbolism, and I didn't understand half of it (well, actually, the majority). It becomes quite difficult to follow the story in that case. And maybe a lot was lost in translation, as others have pointed out to me, but well, that doesn't change the end result. Perhaps the original version is understandable, but this English edition, in particular, wasn't. Speaking of symbolism, the ending was a big question mark, and that can be intriguing because it keeps you thinking even after closing the book. However, in this case, I just don't feel like pondering over it – especially because the rest of the book couldn't hold my interest at all. What is true and what is imagination, or some kind of coping mechanism, can be a beautiful concept, but in this book, it was mostly confusing. That principle was thrown into the book towards the end, and as a result, I never felt the need to pay attention to the truthfulness of certain characters' perceptions throughout the book. If truth or memories are a theme in the book, there should have been a hint of it at the beginning so that as a reader, I understand that I should pay attention to that, creating an intriguing tension that holds my attention.
The original version is probably more understandable because, as others have pointed out, some things are inevitably lost in translation. But even then, this edition was not worth reading for me, and I quickly lost track.
TL;DR: A confusing book with shallow characters lacking coherence, with commendable/fascinating themes overshadowed by symbolism and seemingly irrelevant flashbacks.
The first book of 2023 is out, and the first book of 2023... was a major disappointment. I won't say it was a bad book because it was evident that a lot of effort and energy went into it, so to call it a mess would be unfair. And hidden behind all the symbolism, there's probably a beautiful message, and I hope other people can find it.
But diving deeper... No, I couldn't make sense of this. Firstly, the book was 90% flashbacks, and although it may have suited this book, it's just not my taste. There were so many characters reflecting on certain events in their lives, and those flashbacks seemed randomly chosen. Not all of them, but some were, and it completely confused me. If flashbacks dominate the majority of your story, I expect them to be related to the overarching plot, but that wasn't always the case here. Especially with secondary characters who, in my opinion, didn't contribute much to the main storyline. A story is not a story without characters, and almost every book needs supporting characters, but their flashbacks didn't add much to the story's message and, in fact, detracted from it.
Speaking of characters, I didn't understand them well. And by that, I mean the way these characters were introduced in the story. Normally, the various threads of characters converge at a certain point in the story, or at least, that's usually the case, and as a reader, you get to see how they are connected. But in this case, that wasn't so, or at least, I was left confused about their actual relationships. There are two main characters, clearly, but the rest remained vague. Sure, some supporting characters had an impact on the main characters, but others seemed to lead their own lives without contributing to the advancement of the story or strengthening the book's message. In fact, some characters had their own message that, as mentioned before, diverted from the main message of the book.
Side note: I also didn't find the characters particularly interesting – there were very few that truly caught my attention. To be honest, I only found Atile'i fascinating, with his cultural background and unique customs. The rest of the characters were flat and minimally developed, and some were nothing more than names on a page, which always feels lacking to me. With such a short book, more effort could have been put into this, even if the characters weren't always essential.
Now, let's talk about the story itself, which a) started very slowly, b) was mostly unclear to me, and c) left me quite confused. The environmental themes included in it are understandable, and I have nothing against them, but their connection to Alice's storyline remains unclear to me. Maybe that environmental message, like her primary storyline, has an influence on her personality, I don't know. It would be nice, but I didn't see it, and character development is usually something I care a lot about in books. Furthermore, there were too many perspectives and flashbacks to effectively portray climate change and convey the message. Sure, it's nice if you can depict the impact of climate change through the influence it has on a character. But when you throw in so many flashbacks and perspectives into the story, you can't develop all the characters so deeply and give them clear personalities – let alone show the development of those personalities resulting from climate change.
There seemed to be a lot of symbolism, and normally I have nothing against that, but this book seemed to consist of 70% symbolism, and I didn't understand half of it (well, actually, the majority). It becomes quite difficult to follow the story in that case. And maybe a lot was lost in translation, as others have pointed out to me, but well, that doesn't change the end result. Perhaps the original version is understandable, but this English edition, in particular, wasn't. Speaking of symbolism, the ending was a big question mark, and that can be intriguing because it keeps you thinking even after closing the book. However, in this case, I just don't feel like pondering over it – especially because the rest of the book couldn't hold my interest at all. What is true and what is imagination, or some kind of coping mechanism, can be a beautiful concept, but in this book, it was mostly confusing. That principle was thrown into the book towards the end, and as a result, I never felt the need to pay attention to the truthfulness of certain characters' perceptions throughout the book. If truth or memories are a theme in the book, there should have been a hint of it at the beginning so that as a reader, I understand that I should pay attention to that, creating an intriguing tension that holds my attention.
The original version is probably more understandable because, as others have pointed out, some things are inevitably lost in translation. But even then, this edition was not worth reading for me, and I quickly lost track.
TL;DR: A confusing book with shallow characters lacking coherence, with commendable/fascinating themes overshadowed by symbolism and seemingly irrelevant flashbacks.
August 12, 2019
Katastrofa ekologiczna łączy dwoje osamotnionych ludzi w opowieści o tajemnicy, o życiu i śmierci – „Człowieku o fasetkowych oczach” Wu Ming-Yi.
Wu Ming-Yi to nie tylko tajwański pisarz, nie tylko wykładowca literatury chińskiej, nie tylko artysta, ale może przede wszystkim działacz na rzecz ochrony środowiska. „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” to jego ekologiczne opus magnum – powieść-apel, w którym ukazuje skutki zanieczyszczenia oceanów plastikiem. Czytelnik z przerażeniem zaczyta się w opowieści, w której po morzu dryfuje wyspa śmieci, przyciągająca ryby, ptaki, inne morskie stworzenia, by tam zadusić je na śmierć. Zobaczy wyrzucone na brzeg wieloryby, usłyszy ich płacz, dostrzeże zagubione klucze ptaków na niebie, przerażą go działania fabryk, które za nic mają sobie naturę… Pozna ludzi, którzy nie dostrzegają pułapki, w którą z każdą chwilą głębiej wpadamy…
Zapomnijmy o wielkich wzlotach i większych upadkach, zapomnijmy o nagłych zwrotach akcji – „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” ma swoje tempo, ma swój rytm, specyficzny i tajemniczy. Całość bywa trudna do uchwycenia, falująca i mglista, ale jednocześnie niesamowicie satysfakcjonująca, chociaż emocjonalnie wyczerpująca. Wu Ming-Yi jak na pisarza z Dalekiego Wschodu przystało pisze w sposób bardzo charakterystyczny, pozbawiony agresji, wyzbyty skrajności.
A jednak „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” to krzyk w stronę czytelnika, próba uchwycenia jego rozproszonej uwagi – usłyszmy ten głos, rozejrzyjmy się wokół siebie i zastanówmy, co my możemy zrobić dla naszej planety, by nie utonąć w śmieciach, by samemu nie zostać wyspą plastiku.
Wu Ming-Yi to nie tylko tajwański pisarz, nie tylko wykładowca literatury chińskiej, nie tylko artysta, ale może przede wszystkim działacz na rzecz ochrony środowiska. „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” to jego ekologiczne opus magnum – powieść-apel, w którym ukazuje skutki zanieczyszczenia oceanów plastikiem. Czytelnik z przerażeniem zaczyta się w opowieści, w której po morzu dryfuje wyspa śmieci, przyciągająca ryby, ptaki, inne morskie stworzenia, by tam zadusić je na śmierć. Zobaczy wyrzucone na brzeg wieloryby, usłyszy ich płacz, dostrzeże zagubione klucze ptaków na niebie, przerażą go działania fabryk, które za nic mają sobie naturę… Pozna ludzi, którzy nie dostrzegają pułapki, w którą z każdą chwilą głębiej wpadamy…
Zapomnijmy o wielkich wzlotach i większych upadkach, zapomnijmy o nagłych zwrotach akcji – „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” ma swoje tempo, ma swój rytm, specyficzny i tajemniczy. Całość bywa trudna do uchwycenia, falująca i mglista, ale jednocześnie niesamowicie satysfakcjonująca, chociaż emocjonalnie wyczerpująca. Wu Ming-Yi jak na pisarza z Dalekiego Wschodu przystało pisze w sposób bardzo charakterystyczny, pozbawiony agresji, wyzbyty skrajności.
A jednak „Człowiek o fasetkowych oczach” to krzyk w stronę czytelnika, próba uchwycenia jego rozproszonej uwagi – usłyszmy ten głos, rozejrzyjmy się wokół siebie i zastanówmy, co my możemy zrobić dla naszej planety, by nie utonąć w śmieciach, by samemu nie zostać wyspą plastiku.
January 8, 2016
Well now. This novel is a dream on different planes of existence. As a scifi book, it's quirky and has the gift of touching a serious subject with a wink behind a hand. As a young woman's story, it is heartfelt, lonely, personal, sorrowful and warm. As a young man's story: the same. I read this novel as a true book lover deep in the story an author has presented; inches from the text thinking I could remember whole sentences, paragraphs, pages. I relish total textual immersion novels, and this is one. An absolute joy to read. Wu Ming-Yi has a debut novel yet to be translated into English, and I'll read that as quickly as it arrives. Routes in The Dream. Read this book, and wait with me for the first novel.
August 9, 2022
I was happily absorbed by the house by the sea, the forest, and Ohiyo. The conclusion, featuring the long-awaited appearance of the man with the compound eyes, was too much tell and not enough show.
November 30, 2021
Mình biết đến Wu Ming-Yi lần đầu tiên là qua cuốn Chiếc xe đạp mất cắp, tiểu thuyết giúp ông trở thành người Đài Loan đầu tiên được đề cử giải Man Booker Quốc tế. Wu Ming-Yi cho mình cảm giác giống như khi đọc Umberto Eco, nhưng mà của phương Đông vậy, vì cuốn đó không chỉ mượn chiếc xe đạp để nói về bối cảnh chiến tranh Myanmar và Đài Loan trong thế chiến thứ II, mà đó còn viết về ngành làm bướm thủ công, về sinh thái, về quyền động vật… và rất nhiều đề tài khác chỉ trong một cuốn sách. Là nhà văn, giáo sư văn chương, nhà thiết kế, người sưu tập bướm… do đó không quá khó hiểu khi mà mỗi lần đọc Wu Ming-Yi là một trời tri thức mở ra, và mình rất thích điều đó.
Nếu ai theo dõi Wu Ming-Yi đủ lâu cũng biết ông còn đồng thời là một nhà hoạt động vì môi trường. Do đó, các tác phẩm hư cấu của ông ít nhiều đều có yếu tố sinh thái được chứa đựng trong đó. Và khi nghe Người mắt kép được chuyển ngữ, mình đã không ngừng ngóng chờ, vì nó là cuốn đầu tiên của ông được dịch ra tiếng Anh, và cũng hoàn toàn là viết về sinh thái, từ Trái đất nóng lên, biến đổi khí hậu; cho đến sự mất dần bản sắc bộ tộc, quy hoạch - xây dựng vô tội vạ, săn bắt hải cẩu - cá voi… Rõ ràng việc viết về một vấn đề thời sự dưới hình thức tiểu thuyết hư cấu là không dễ dàng, nhưng mình bị Wu Ming-Yi cuốn vào một cách hoàn toàn, và trong quá trình đọc không có gì làm mình bị out khỏi mạch văn chương, vì cũng như ông nói, đây là các vấn đề tự nó sẵn có mà không gần phải cố gắng tạo ra.
Thứ đầu tiên mình cảm thấy thích ở Người mắt kép là năng lực tưởng tượng vô biên của Wu Ming-Yi. Nhân vật chính trong tiểu thuyết này là Atile’i - một thanh niên 15 tuổi trên đảo Wayo Wayo - đang dong buồm ra với biển lớn vì truyền thống lâu đời của hòn đảo. Tương truyền ban đầu dân đảo Wayo Wayo được Kabang - Thần biển, truyền cho sự bất tử; thế nhưng vì sự sinh sản vô độ, làm hại các sinh vật khác; cho nên họ bị biến thành người phàm, và người con trai thứ phải chèo talawaka ra biển khi qua 180 lần trăng tròn, nhằm đảm bảo mỗi gia đình chỉ có một con trai, không thể sinh sản vô độ. Điểm này làm mình nhớ tới làng Macondo của Márquez, cũng bị trừng phạt bởi tội lỗi con người. Và cách viết kì ảo của Wu Ming-Yi cũng nhiều lần được so sánh với nhà văn kì tài người Colombia, và mình thấy cũng không phải là quá với sự so sánh này.
Điều thứ hai, cũng như Richard Powers, Wu Ming-Yi xây dựng một bi kịch cá nhân song song với bi kịch môi trường, và điều đó càng làm trầm trọng thêm vấn đề mà ông muốn hướng tới. Tuyến truyện song song thứ hai là về Alice - một giáo sư văn học - người vừa trải qua sự kiện đau buồn là mất đi chồng và con trai trong một tai nạn leo núi. Mong muốn tự tử, Alice ở trong căn nhà ven biển của mình, và cũng là người chứng kiến Xoáy rác Thái Bình Dương ập vào bờ biển Đài Loan. Việc xây dựng song song bi kịch cá nhân làm dịu lại tính thời sự, mở ra tính hư cấu, và rõ ràng là ông đã làm rất tốt.
Điều thứ ba, là với một số lượng lớn các nhân vật được thêm vào, Wu Ming-Yi hướng được cốt truyện theo đúng hướng mà mình muốn và cũng đầy phong phú. Từ những người đại diện cho bộ tộc như Dahu, Hafey; cho đến những người nước ngoài nhìn ngắm thiên nhiên từ vị trí của mình, như cha con Amundsen - Sara và Detlef. Mỗi người lại là một trường hợp khác nhau, một điểm nhìn khác nhau; tổng hòa nên một bức tranh màu sắc của Thiên nhiên đang bị phá hoại dưới danh nghĩa “phát triển”, “quy hoạch” hay “đổi mới”.
Điểm thứ tư, hình tượng chính “người mắt kép” rất điển hình và đầy tượng hình. Mắt người chỉ là mắt đơn, trong khi các động vật - côn trùng khác lại là mắt kép, nghĩa là chúng thấy được sự vật một cách toàn vẹn hơn con người. Trong tiểu thuyết này, mỗi một nhân vật lại có dịp được gặp nhân vật bí ẩn ấy, như sự tự thân, như việc tự nhận thức, và rõ ràng Wu Ming-Yi cũng muốn gửi gắm một điều là con người thực sự bé nhỏ trước tự nhiên. Dahu nhờ người đàn ông ấy mà biết rằng mình sinh ra không phải để làm một thợ săn, trong khi Amundsen thì qua đó nhận ra được hành vi tàn ác của việc săn hải cẩu làm áo khoác - những con vật không hề có sức kháng cự.
Văn học sinh thái còn là một mảnh đất mới, nhưng với những tay viết tài hoa như Wu Ming-Yi, nó không khô khan mà cuốn hút đến lạ. Mê hoặc như Vòm rừng của Richard Powers nhưng cũng quen thuộc với yếu tố Đông phương như Haruki Murakami trong những chi tiết hiện thực kì ảo; đây là cuốn tiểu thuyết hay và đầy mê hoặc về vai trò của con người trong tự nhiên, cũng như thực trạng đáng báo động hiện nay. Rất nên thử qua.
Nếu ai theo dõi Wu Ming-Yi đủ lâu cũng biết ông còn đồng thời là một nhà hoạt động vì môi trường. Do đó, các tác phẩm hư cấu của ông ít nhiều đều có yếu tố sinh thái được chứa đựng trong đó. Và khi nghe Người mắt kép được chuyển ngữ, mình đã không ngừng ngóng chờ, vì nó là cuốn đầu tiên của ông được dịch ra tiếng Anh, và cũng hoàn toàn là viết về sinh thái, từ Trái đất nóng lên, biến đổi khí hậu; cho đến sự mất dần bản sắc bộ tộc, quy hoạch - xây dựng vô tội vạ, săn bắt hải cẩu - cá voi… Rõ ràng việc viết về một vấn đề thời sự dưới hình thức tiểu thuyết hư cấu là không dễ dàng, nhưng mình bị Wu Ming-Yi cuốn vào một cách hoàn toàn, và trong quá trình đọc không có gì làm mình bị out khỏi mạch văn chương, vì cũng như ông nói, đây là các vấn đề tự nó sẵn có mà không gần phải cố gắng tạo ra.
Thứ đầu tiên mình cảm thấy thích ở Người mắt kép là năng lực tưởng tượng vô biên của Wu Ming-Yi. Nhân vật chính trong tiểu thuyết này là Atile’i - một thanh niên 15 tuổi trên đảo Wayo Wayo - đang dong buồm ra với biển lớn vì truyền thống lâu đời của hòn đảo. Tương truyền ban đầu dân đảo Wayo Wayo được Kabang - Thần biển, truyền cho sự bất tử; thế nhưng vì sự sinh sản vô độ, làm hại các sinh vật khác; cho nên họ bị biến thành người phàm, và người con trai thứ phải chèo talawaka ra biển khi qua 180 lần trăng tròn, nhằm đảm bảo mỗi gia đình chỉ có một con trai, không thể sinh sản vô độ. Điểm này làm mình nhớ tới làng Macondo của Márquez, cũng bị trừng phạt bởi tội lỗi con người. Và cách viết kì ảo của Wu Ming-Yi cũng nhiều lần được so sánh với nhà văn kì tài người Colombia, và mình thấy cũng không phải là quá với sự so sánh này.
Điều thứ hai, cũng như Richard Powers, Wu Ming-Yi xây dựng một bi kịch cá nhân song song với bi kịch môi trường, và điều đó càng làm trầm trọng thêm vấn đề mà ông muốn hướng tới. Tuyến truyện song song thứ hai là về Alice - một giáo sư văn học - người vừa trải qua sự kiện đau buồn là mất đi chồng và con trai trong một tai nạn leo núi. Mong muốn tự tử, Alice ở trong căn nhà ven biển của mình, và cũng là người chứng kiến Xoáy rác Thái Bình Dương ập vào bờ biển Đài Loan. Việc xây dựng song song bi kịch cá nhân làm dịu lại tính thời sự, mở ra tính hư cấu, và rõ ràng là ông đã làm rất tốt.
Điều thứ ba, là với một số lượng lớn các nhân vật được thêm vào, Wu Ming-Yi hướng được cốt truyện theo đúng hướng mà mình muốn và cũng đầy phong phú. Từ những người đại diện cho bộ tộc như Dahu, Hafey; cho đến những người nước ngoài nhìn ngắm thiên nhiên từ vị trí của mình, như cha con Amundsen - Sara và Detlef. Mỗi người lại là một trường hợp khác nhau, một điểm nhìn khác nhau; tổng hòa nên một bức tranh màu sắc của Thiên nhiên đang bị phá hoại dưới danh nghĩa “phát triển”, “quy hoạch” hay “đổi mới”.
Điểm thứ tư, hình tượng chính “người mắt kép” rất điển hình và đầy tượng hình. Mắt người chỉ là mắt đơn, trong khi các động vật - côn trùng khác lại là mắt kép, nghĩa là chúng thấy được sự vật một cách toàn vẹn hơn con người. Trong tiểu thuyết này, mỗi một nhân vật lại có dịp được gặp nhân vật bí ẩn ấy, như sự tự thân, như việc tự nhận thức, và rõ ràng Wu Ming-Yi cũng muốn gửi gắm một điều là con người thực sự bé nhỏ trước tự nhiên. Dahu nhờ người đàn ông ấy mà biết rằng mình sinh ra không phải để làm một thợ săn, trong khi Amundsen thì qua đó nhận ra được hành vi tàn ác của việc săn hải cẩu làm áo khoác - những con vật không hề có sức kháng cự.
Văn học sinh thái còn là một mảnh đất mới, nhưng với những tay viết tài hoa như Wu Ming-Yi, nó không khô khan mà cuốn hút đến lạ. Mê hoặc như Vòm rừng của Richard Powers nhưng cũng quen thuộc với yếu tố Đông phương như Haruki Murakami trong những chi tiết hiện thực kì ảo; đây là cuốn tiểu thuyết hay và đầy mê hoặc về vai trò của con người trong tự nhiên, cũng như thực trạng đáng báo động hiện nay. Rất nên thử qua.
February 6, 2023
Una història força original. He descobert un gran narrador, tot i que m'ha agradat més el camí que la destinació final.
https://dreamsofelvex.blogspot.com/20...
https://dreamsofelvex.blogspot.com/20...
October 25, 2022
L'element fantàstic en "L'home dels ulls compostos" és, evidentment, el personatge que dona nom a la novel·la. És un personatge que no surt fins cap al final i que roman misteriós, més insinuat que descrit, com si la ciència ficció o la fantasia s'escolessin dins de la història demanant permís, sinó perdó.
Què ha passat, fins aleshores?
Hem viscut una catàstrofe causada per l'home dins d'un escenari de preapocalipsi climàtica (també de causes humanes). Tot allò de què ens alerten a les notícies i que darrerament experimentem cada cop més sovint en el dia a dia (temperatures desbocades, fenòmens meteorològics extrems) es fan realitat en aquesta novel·la.
Wu Ming-Yi escriu amb consciència climàtica.
Posem que això és un valor per a l'obra. Ho podríem debatre, però deixem-ho com un punt positiu: la ciència ficció és més terrenal que especulativa, ja. De fet, coincideix temàticament amb el relat "Al garete" d'Emilio Bueso, que es troba a l'antologia Mañana todavía, i la relectura del qual resulta curiosa per formar un díptic amb aquesta novel·la.
Però quins altres punts a favor té?
La història dels dos personatges principals, l'Alice i l'Atrie, que es troben en un moment en què provenen de dos móns totalment diferents i de dues històries complementàries entre sí, és molt poderosa. És el principal motiu que m'ha enganxat durant la lectura de les dues-centes primeres pàgines. Per mi, la novel·la són ells dos, amb una cronologia alterada, amb tota la motxilla que duen. No m'ha convençut tant un gir argumental sobre la seva relació en un moment donat, però. Com no m'ha convençut aquest anar i venir de personatges que semblaven secundaris però que de cop ocupen planes i planes de la novel·la. Entenem-nos: no és que no m'interessin, és que vull saber què els passa a l'Alice i a l'Atrie.
He llegit que l'autor va anar improvisant sobre la marxa la història. Que acabava un capítol i en començava un altre sense saber on anar, només pel fet d'escriure el que li venia de gust. Hi ha un moment de la novel·la en què això es nota massa i descobreixes que no hi ha una estructura clàssica, i pot desorientar com a lector. A mi m'ha passat. No entenia que obrís noves possibilitats a una història que hauria d'anar tancant. Potser soc massa cartesià, en aquest sentit, i necessito que tot tingui un ordre.
El to de la novel·la, però, fa que tot flueixi sense problemes. Amb un llenguatge no massa poètic (hi podria haver caigut perfectíssimament en alguns passatges) però sí dolç i dur alhora, l'escriptura de Wu Ming-Yi és agradable. Recorda a una faula o un conte de fades en alguns capítols, i a històries més crues en d'altres, sense abandonar cert sentit de la mitologia que n'eleva el resultat final.
Si teniu ni que sigui una mica de consciència climàtica, aquesta us agradarà.
Què ha passat, fins aleshores?
Hem viscut una catàstrofe causada per l'home dins d'un escenari de preapocalipsi climàtica (també de causes humanes). Tot allò de què ens alerten a les notícies i que darrerament experimentem cada cop més sovint en el dia a dia (temperatures desbocades, fenòmens meteorològics extrems) es fan realitat en aquesta novel·la.
Wu Ming-Yi escriu amb consciència climàtica.
Posem que això és un valor per a l'obra. Ho podríem debatre, però deixem-ho com un punt positiu: la ciència ficció és més terrenal que especulativa, ja. De fet, coincideix temàticament amb el relat "Al garete" d'Emilio Bueso, que es troba a l'antologia Mañana todavía, i la relectura del qual resulta curiosa per formar un díptic amb aquesta novel·la.
Però quins altres punts a favor té?
La història dels dos personatges principals, l'Alice i l'Atrie, que es troben en un moment en què provenen de dos móns totalment diferents i de dues històries complementàries entre sí, és molt poderosa. És el principal motiu que m'ha enganxat durant la lectura de les dues-centes primeres pàgines. Per mi, la novel·la són ells dos, amb una cronologia alterada, amb tota la motxilla que duen. No m'ha convençut tant un gir argumental sobre la seva relació en un moment donat, però. Com no m'ha convençut aquest anar i venir de personatges que semblaven secundaris però que de cop ocupen planes i planes de la novel·la. Entenem-nos: no és que no m'interessin, és que vull saber què els passa a l'Alice i a l'Atrie.
He llegit que l'autor va anar improvisant sobre la marxa la història. Que acabava un capítol i en començava un altre sense saber on anar, només pel fet d'escriure el que li venia de gust. Hi ha un moment de la novel·la en què això es nota massa i descobreixes que no hi ha una estructura clàssica, i pot desorientar com a lector. A mi m'ha passat. No entenia que obrís noves possibilitats a una història que hauria d'anar tancant. Potser soc massa cartesià, en aquest sentit, i necessito que tot tingui un ordre.
El to de la novel·la, però, fa que tot flueixi sense problemes. Amb un llenguatge no massa poètic (hi podria haver caigut perfectíssimament en alguns passatges) però sí dolç i dur alhora, l'escriptura de Wu Ming-Yi és agradable. Recorda a una faula o un conte de fades en alguns capítols, i a històries més crues en d'altres, sense abandonar cert sentit de la mitologia que n'eleva el resultat final.
Si teniu ni que sigui una mica de consciència climàtica, aquesta us agradarà.
April 30, 2024
Atile'i is the second son of his family, and as tradition decrees, he must set out to sail on his fifteenth birthday. What he didn't expect, is that an island of trash (which he calls Gesi Gesi) carries him to Taiwan, where he meets Alice who is ready to end it all after the death of her husband and disappearance of their son, were it not for her cat. And then Atile'i washes up..
We read this for bookclub per the recommendation of a Taiwanese bookclubber (who reads along), and it was exciting to foray into new literary waters (see what I did there?). Ming-Yu's writing style is lyrical, poetic and fragmented, which makes the book a very slow one. I'm also afraid a few things got lost in translation, literally and figuratively, but I am determined to read it again at a later time.
His commentary on the state of the world and where we're headed when it comes to the ecological crisis, is thought-provoking. I am appalled by the fact that the trash vortex is AN ACTUAL THING - it sounded so made up, it couldn'tve been real... But it is. Islands are drowning, indigenous/aboriginal people and their wisdom are lost to time and with the advancement of technology. I loved his inclusion of an aboriginal people, who are the inhabitants of a supposedly undiscovered island, and all the symbolism, magical elements and the feeling I got from reading about the Wayo Wayoans; it felt very familiar, seeing I am from an island in Melanesia and both the language and life-style feel very Pacific island-like (if that makes sense).
As I said before, I think the combination of the literary style of the book, my lack of experience in reading translated Mandarin/Taiwanese fiction and the fragmented style of the book, it took me a while to get into it and the breaks in between made it difficult for me to recall parts of the story. The story is very rich, and it deserves more love and attention a second time around.
Some quotes I loved:
An earthquake does not have to kill you to induce mortal terror; it is enough that it can take away something dear to you, leaving nothing but a shrivelled skin behind.
Generally speaking, human memory can be divided into declarative memory and non-declarative memory. Declarative memory can be reported, for instance in speech or writing. And non-declarative memory is roughly, what you call the subconscious mind. It's the memories a person might not even know he has. This is not to say that it can't be reported, just that usually it is not reported, because you don't even know about it. [...] Well, these two kinds of memory can be subdivided into three basic types: episodic, semantic and procedural."
"Humans are usually completely unconcerned with the memories of other creatures. Human existence involves the wilful destruction of the existential memories of other creatures and your own memories as well. No life can survive without other lives, without the ecological memories other living creatures have, memories of the environments in which they live. People don't realise they need to rely on the memories of other organisms to survive. You think that flowers bloom in colourful profusion just to please your eyes. [...] When in fact, the finest movement of any organism represents a change in the ecosystem."
We read this for bookclub per the recommendation of a Taiwanese bookclubber (who reads along), and it was exciting to foray into new literary waters (see what I did there?). Ming-Yu's writing style is lyrical, poetic and fragmented, which makes the book a very slow one. I'm also afraid a few things got lost in translation, literally and figuratively, but I am determined to read it again at a later time.
His commentary on the state of the world and where we're headed when it comes to the ecological crisis, is thought-provoking. I am appalled by the fact that the trash vortex is AN ACTUAL THING - it sounded so made up, it couldn'tve been real... But it is. Islands are drowning, indigenous/aboriginal people and their wisdom are lost to time and with the advancement of technology. I loved his inclusion of an aboriginal people, who are the inhabitants of a supposedly undiscovered island, and all the symbolism, magical elements and the feeling I got from reading about the Wayo Wayoans; it felt very familiar, seeing I am from an island in Melanesia and both the language and life-style feel very Pacific island-like (if that makes sense).
As I said before, I think the combination of the literary style of the book, my lack of experience in reading translated Mandarin/Taiwanese fiction and the fragmented style of the book, it took me a while to get into it and the breaks in between made it difficult for me to recall parts of the story. The story is very rich, and it deserves more love and attention a second time around.
Some quotes I loved:
An earthquake does not have to kill you to induce mortal terror; it is enough that it can take away something dear to you, leaving nothing but a shrivelled skin behind.
Generally speaking, human memory can be divided into declarative memory and non-declarative memory. Declarative memory can be reported, for instance in speech or writing. And non-declarative memory is roughly, what you call the subconscious mind. It's the memories a person might not even know he has. This is not to say that it can't be reported, just that usually it is not reported, because you don't even know about it. [...] Well, these two kinds of memory can be subdivided into three basic types: episodic, semantic and procedural."
"Humans are usually completely unconcerned with the memories of other creatures. Human existence involves the wilful destruction of the existential memories of other creatures and your own memories as well. No life can survive without other lives, without the ecological memories other living creatures have, memories of the environments in which they live. People don't realise they need to rely on the memories of other organisms to survive. You think that flowers bloom in colourful profusion just to please your eyes. [...] When in fact, the finest movement of any organism represents a change in the ecosystem."
November 10, 2021
Emily and her books
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« Contemplo ma non intervengo, questo è il senso della mia esistenza. »
Lettura di Aprile del Book Club Letture Mandarine
Montagne e nuvole negli occhi è il primo romanzo tradotto in Italia dell'autore Wu Ming-Yi, esponente della scrittura naturalistica moderna taiwanese.
Titolo originale dell'opera è Fuyanren 複眼⼈,“L’uomo dagli occhi composti” pubblicata a Taiwan nel 2011, ma un racconto breve con il medesimo titolo e che funge da predecessore al romanzo, è già presente nella raccolta di racconti intitolata Huye 虎爺, "Il dio tigre" pubblicata nel 2003.
Inizio subito elogiando la scelta del titolo in Italiano. Mi incuriosisce sempre tanto il processo di scelta del titolo da parte del traduttore (o della casa editrice): alcune volte si preferisce tenere l'originale, alcune volte si cambia totalmente strada. Montagne e nuvole negli occhi mi ha subito incuriosito come titolo data la differenza con il titolo originale, ma durante la lettura è arrivato il momento in cui tutto si è rivelato e ho compreso perché è stato scelto proprio questo titolo. Wow. Non voglio dire di più perché dovete arrivarci viaggiando nelle pagine di questo libro e, sono sicura, rimarrete a bocca aperta anche voi.
Un romanzo corale dove più voci si susseguono fra i 31 capitoli che lo compongono: non c'è solo Alice, professoressa e scrittrice segnata dalla scomparsa del marito Jakobsen e del figlio Toto, né solo Atrei, abitante dell'isola di Wayo-wayo destinato a mettersi in mare per seguire la tradizione dei figli maschi secondogeniti.
C'è anche Dahu, amico di Alice, amante della montagna, premuroso e pronto ad aiutare il prossimo. Lascia la città per ritornare al villaggio bunun da cui proviene. C'è Hafay, proprietaria del Settimo Sisid e orgogliosa pangcah, ci racconterà le difficoltà che ha dovuto superare assieme alla sua ina (mamma).
E c'è la natura. Quella rigogliosa, dove le farfalle volano e i freschi ruscelli di montagna gorgogliano. Anche quella che incute timore, che produce tifoni, terremoti, eventi catastrofici. E per ultima, la natura contaminata e inquinata, distrutta dall'uomo per la ricerca di comodità e per lo sviluppo urbano.
Ho trovato davvero interessante l'inserimento di numerosi personaggi appartenenti alle tribù indigene taiwanesi che contano circa il 2% della popolazione dell'isola e il cui contributo è stato fondamentale nello sviluppo della letteratura naturalistica taiwanese. Questo romanzo mi ha dato la possibilità di conoscere (e approfondire in un secondo momento) la cultura indigena e conoscere una parte della popolazione dell'isola di Taiwan che non conoscevo.
La scrittura è scorrevole ed estremamente evocativa. Le descrizioni naturalistiche, dei luoghi dell'isola, del mare, delle montagne ecc. suggestivi e dettagliati, senza però risultare noiose o ripetitive.
Il personaggio che fra tutti ho trovato più affascinante è l'uomo dagli occhi composti. (Forse è un po' ovvia come cosa?) Durante tutto il romanzo si parla anche di religione, leggende e tradizioni, di divinità. Arrivando alla conclusione del romanzo mi sono domandata: "Non è forse proprio l'uomo dagli occhi composti un Dio?". Effettivamente è un'entità non visibile a chiunque, sembrerebbe onniscente e onnipresente, ma è impossibilitato a intervenire nel corso degli eventi. O forse non vuole intervenire.
Un punto a sfavore del racconto però lo devo dare all'inserimento di due personaggi, Sara e Boldt. Non ho ben capito il motivo del loro inserimento verso il finale del romanzo, in quanto ho sentito la loro linea narrativa slegata dal resto dei personaggi se non per il fatto che Boldt avesse lavorato agli scavi per la creazione della galleria nelle montagne taiwanesi.
Per il resto, ho trovato il romanzo stimolante. Ho potuto ritrovare quello stile ricercato e poetico apprezzato e conosciuto tramite Bai Xianyong 白先勇 e Il maestro della notte, nonostante i due romanzi si trovino agli antipodi.
In sono numerosi i temi che si intrecciano, lasciando però maggiore spazio al tema della tutela della natura, degli spazi e di una maggiore consapevolezza dell’impronta dell’uomo nel mondo. Temi cari proprio alla scrittura naturalistica moderna taiwanese
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ATTENZIONE: la recensione può contenere spoiler
« Contemplo ma non intervengo, questo è il senso della mia esistenza. »
Lettura di Aprile del Book Club Letture Mandarine
Montagne e nuvole negli occhi è il primo romanzo tradotto in Italia dell'autore Wu Ming-Yi, esponente della scrittura naturalistica moderna taiwanese.
Titolo originale dell'opera è Fuyanren 複眼⼈,“L’uomo dagli occhi composti” pubblicata a Taiwan nel 2011, ma un racconto breve con il medesimo titolo e che funge da predecessore al romanzo, è già presente nella raccolta di racconti intitolata Huye 虎爺, "Il dio tigre" pubblicata nel 2003.
Inizio subito elogiando la scelta del titolo in Italiano. Mi incuriosisce sempre tanto il processo di scelta del titolo da parte del traduttore (o della casa editrice): alcune volte si preferisce tenere l'originale, alcune volte si cambia totalmente strada. Montagne e nuvole negli occhi mi ha subito incuriosito come titolo data la differenza con il titolo originale, ma durante la lettura è arrivato il momento in cui tutto si è rivelato e ho compreso perché è stato scelto proprio questo titolo. Wow. Non voglio dire di più perché dovete arrivarci viaggiando nelle pagine di questo libro e, sono sicura, rimarrete a bocca aperta anche voi.
Un romanzo corale dove più voci si susseguono fra i 31 capitoli che lo compongono: non c'è solo Alice, professoressa e scrittrice segnata dalla scomparsa del marito Jakobsen e del figlio Toto, né solo Atrei, abitante dell'isola di Wayo-wayo destinato a mettersi in mare per seguire la tradizione dei figli maschi secondogeniti.
C'è anche Dahu, amico di Alice, amante della montagna, premuroso e pronto ad aiutare il prossimo. Lascia la città per ritornare al villaggio bunun da cui proviene. C'è Hafay, proprietaria del Settimo Sisid e orgogliosa pangcah, ci racconterà le difficoltà che ha dovuto superare assieme alla sua ina (mamma).
E c'è la natura. Quella rigogliosa, dove le farfalle volano e i freschi ruscelli di montagna gorgogliano. Anche quella che incute timore, che produce tifoni, terremoti, eventi catastrofici. E per ultima, la natura contaminata e inquinata, distrutta dall'uomo per la ricerca di comodità e per lo sviluppo urbano.
Ho trovato davvero interessante l'inserimento di numerosi personaggi appartenenti alle tribù indigene taiwanesi che contano circa il 2% della popolazione dell'isola e il cui contributo è stato fondamentale nello sviluppo della letteratura naturalistica taiwanese. Questo romanzo mi ha dato la possibilità di conoscere (e approfondire in un secondo momento) la cultura indigena e conoscere una parte della popolazione dell'isola di Taiwan che non conoscevo.
La scrittura è scorrevole ed estremamente evocativa. Le descrizioni naturalistiche, dei luoghi dell'isola, del mare, delle montagne ecc. suggestivi e dettagliati, senza però risultare noiose o ripetitive.
Il personaggio che fra tutti ho trovato più affascinante è l'uomo dagli occhi composti. (Forse è un po' ovvia come cosa?) Durante tutto il romanzo si parla anche di religione, leggende e tradizioni, di divinità. Arrivando alla conclusione del romanzo mi sono domandata: "Non è forse proprio l'uomo dagli occhi composti un Dio?". Effettivamente è un'entità non visibile a chiunque, sembrerebbe onniscente e onnipresente, ma è impossibilitato a intervenire nel corso degli eventi. O forse non vuole intervenire.
Un punto a sfavore del racconto però lo devo dare all'inserimento di due personaggi, Sara e Boldt. Non ho ben capito il motivo del loro inserimento verso il finale del romanzo, in quanto ho sentito la loro linea narrativa slegata dal resto dei personaggi se non per il fatto che Boldt avesse lavorato agli scavi per la creazione della galleria nelle montagne taiwanesi.
Per il resto, ho trovato il romanzo stimolante. Ho potuto ritrovare quello stile ricercato e poetico apprezzato e conosciuto tramite Bai Xianyong 白先勇 e Il maestro della notte, nonostante i due romanzi si trovino agli antipodi.
In sono numerosi i temi che si intrecciano, lasciando però maggiore spazio al tema della tutela della natura, degli spazi e di una maggiore consapevolezza dell’impronta dell’uomo nel mondo. Temi cari proprio alla scrittura naturalistica moderna taiwanese
December 27, 2023
Luin tätä silmät kiiluen UPEE KIRJA 5/5 paljon kuvailua merestä ja Taiwanin aboriginaalien kulttuureista UPEETA!!
June 2, 2022
Alice hatte beschlossen, ihr Leben zu beenden. Die Professorin der Uni Taipeh kündigte ihre Stelle,Telefon und Internet und begann ihren Besitz zu verschenken. Für ihr Ziel Schriftstellerin zu werden hatte ihre Lehrtätigkeit ihr nicht genug Zeit gelassen und ohne Mann (in den Bergen verunglückt) und Sohn (in den Bergen vermisst) fühlte Alice sich wie eine leere Hülle. Doch Alice lebt an der Ostküste Taiwans allein in einem ererbten Haus am Meer, das im Dauerregen gerade vom steigenden Meeresspiegel eingekreist wird, verursacht durch den Klimawandel. Ausgerechnet dort, wo menschliche Eingriffe, Erdbeben und Taifune die Landschaft als leere Hülle hinterlassen haben, wird der 1997 erstmals beschriebene pazifische Müllstrudel auf die Küste treffen, hat ihre einzige Nachbarin erfahren. Und Hafay weiß sehr gut, dass auf jede Welle an dieser Küste eine weit größere zweite Welle folgen wird. Die Folgen kann sich kaum jemand ausmalen, aber Alice und Hafay werden dort nicht mehr leben können.
Alices Pläne werden nicht allein durch die Hiobsbotschaft vom nahenden Müllstrudel durchkreuzt. Aus dem Müllknäuel steigt ein indigener junger Mann, der aus einer anderen Welt zu kommen scheint. Atile’i stammt von der Pazifikinsel Wayowayo, deren Einwohner ihre Insel bisher für die gesamte Welt halten konnten, weil sie sich nur in sehr enggezogenem Radius aufs Meer trauten. Um ihre Lebensgrundlagen nicht zu zerstören, werden mit ihrem 15. Lebensjahr die zweitgeborenen Söhne traditionell aufs Meer in den Tod geschickt, falls der erstgeborene Sohn überlebt hat. Vorher dürfen sie noch mit jedem Mädchen auf der Insel Sex haben, so dass auch die jungen Frauen ohne Partner eine Chance auf ein Kind erhalten und nicht zwangsläufig allein bleiben müssen. Atile’i ist ein fortgeschickter zweiter Sohn. Seine Begegnung mit dem Müllwirbel rettet sein Leben. Die erstaunliche Insel erkundet er mit der Unvoreingenommenheit eines Indigenen, der noch keine Fremden zu Gesicht bekommen hat.
Wo der Strudel auf die Küste treffen wird, kreuzen sich die Wege von Chinesen, Indigenen und Europäern. Hafay, Tochter einer indigenen Arbeitsimmigrantin vom Stamm der Amís, betreibt ein Restaurant, Daho vom Volk der Bunun arbeitet ehrenamtlich u. a. als Bergretter; Alices Mann Thom stammte aus Dänemark und folgte seiner Frau aus Begeisterung für Taiwans Berge. Der Geologe Konrad und seine Partnerin Sarah als promovierte Meeresbiologin stehen für die Perspektive von Nordeuropäern und vermutlich auch für die Gruppe von Experten, denen Bewohner wohlhabender Staaten ungern zuhören.
In der ausweglosen Situation, gerade vom Plastikmüll anderer Staaten und ausländischer Schifffahrtslinien begraben zu werden, will Alice jedoch endlich das Schicksal ihres vermissten 10-jährigen Sohns aufklären, indem sie der letzten Tour von Mann und Sohn in die Berge folgt. Ihr Gefährte ist ausgerechnet Atile’i, der mit seiner Ankunft in Alices Augen seinen eisernen Überlebenswillen demonstriert hat und deshalb auch sie retten wird.
Neben Alices unmittelbarem Abenteuer geht es hier um Wertschätzung von Meer und Wald in einer Region, in der es Taifune und giftige Schlangen gibt. Aber auch um die Begegnung unterschiedlicher Volksstämme, die ihr Gegenüber jeweils mit den Mitteln beurteilen, die ihre jeweilige Kultur ihnen mitgegeben hat. Für mich blieben einige Fragen offen; denn das Konzept dieser tropischen Region auf der Höhe von Hongkong setzt Min-Yi Wu offenbar bei seinen Lesern als vertraut voraus. Für meinen Geschmack sind seine Figuren sehr stark mit der nahenden Katastrophe beschäftigt und weniger mit dem, was Taiwan ausmacht. Min-Yi Wu schafft hier eine ungewöhnliche fantastische Welt auf einem ertrinkenden Kontinent, in der es offenbar Zeitfalten mit Bewegung durch die Zeit gibt und in der man daher zugleich lebend und verstorben sein kann.
Alices Pläne werden nicht allein durch die Hiobsbotschaft vom nahenden Müllstrudel durchkreuzt. Aus dem Müllknäuel steigt ein indigener junger Mann, der aus einer anderen Welt zu kommen scheint. Atile’i stammt von der Pazifikinsel Wayowayo, deren Einwohner ihre Insel bisher für die gesamte Welt halten konnten, weil sie sich nur in sehr enggezogenem Radius aufs Meer trauten. Um ihre Lebensgrundlagen nicht zu zerstören, werden mit ihrem 15. Lebensjahr die zweitgeborenen Söhne traditionell aufs Meer in den Tod geschickt, falls der erstgeborene Sohn überlebt hat. Vorher dürfen sie noch mit jedem Mädchen auf der Insel Sex haben, so dass auch die jungen Frauen ohne Partner eine Chance auf ein Kind erhalten und nicht zwangsläufig allein bleiben müssen. Atile’i ist ein fortgeschickter zweiter Sohn. Seine Begegnung mit dem Müllwirbel rettet sein Leben. Die erstaunliche Insel erkundet er mit der Unvoreingenommenheit eines Indigenen, der noch keine Fremden zu Gesicht bekommen hat.
Wo der Strudel auf die Küste treffen wird, kreuzen sich die Wege von Chinesen, Indigenen und Europäern. Hafay, Tochter einer indigenen Arbeitsimmigrantin vom Stamm der Amís, betreibt ein Restaurant, Daho vom Volk der Bunun arbeitet ehrenamtlich u. a. als Bergretter; Alices Mann Thom stammte aus Dänemark und folgte seiner Frau aus Begeisterung für Taiwans Berge. Der Geologe Konrad und seine Partnerin Sarah als promovierte Meeresbiologin stehen für die Perspektive von Nordeuropäern und vermutlich auch für die Gruppe von Experten, denen Bewohner wohlhabender Staaten ungern zuhören.
In der ausweglosen Situation, gerade vom Plastikmüll anderer Staaten und ausländischer Schifffahrtslinien begraben zu werden, will Alice jedoch endlich das Schicksal ihres vermissten 10-jährigen Sohns aufklären, indem sie der letzten Tour von Mann und Sohn in die Berge folgt. Ihr Gefährte ist ausgerechnet Atile’i, der mit seiner Ankunft in Alices Augen seinen eisernen Überlebenswillen demonstriert hat und deshalb auch sie retten wird.
Neben Alices unmittelbarem Abenteuer geht es hier um Wertschätzung von Meer und Wald in einer Region, in der es Taifune und giftige Schlangen gibt. Aber auch um die Begegnung unterschiedlicher Volksstämme, die ihr Gegenüber jeweils mit den Mitteln beurteilen, die ihre jeweilige Kultur ihnen mitgegeben hat. Für mich blieben einige Fragen offen; denn das Konzept dieser tropischen Region auf der Höhe von Hongkong setzt Min-Yi Wu offenbar bei seinen Lesern als vertraut voraus. Für meinen Geschmack sind seine Figuren sehr stark mit der nahenden Katastrophe beschäftigt und weniger mit dem, was Taiwan ausmacht. Min-Yi Wu schafft hier eine ungewöhnliche fantastische Welt auf einem ertrinkenden Kontinent, in der es offenbar Zeitfalten mit Bewegung durch die Zeit gibt und in der man daher zugleich lebend und verstorben sein kann.
August 26, 2024
“ Aslında doğa acımasız falan değildir. En azından insanlara karşı özellikle acımasızlık etmez. Doğa karşı da koymaz çünkü karşı koymak için bilinçli olarak niyet sahibi olmak gerekir. Doğa yapması gerekeni yapıyor, hepsi bu.”
.
İnsanların kendiyle olan savaşı öyle uzun, öyle çetrefilli ki.. Tüketmek ve tükenmekle süregelen bir savaş. Tayvanlı yazar Wu Ming Yi bu çatışmaya mitler, inançlar ve kayıpları da ekleyerek gerçek ile gerçeküstü arasında dolaştırıyor okuru.
Petekgözlü Adam, Atile’i ve Alice üzerinden dağları, denizleri, çöpleri, avlanmaları anlatıyor. Zamanla üst üste biriken tortuların çıkmama inadını da.
Oğlu ve eşinin dağda kaybolmasıyla ne yapacağını bilemeyen Alice ve ailelerin 15 yaşına gelen ikinci oğullarının Deniz Tanrısı’na kurban edildiği Wayo Wayo Adası’ndan Atille’i. İki ayrı kültür, iki ayrı korku tek sorun: öldürdüklerimizin bizi öldürecek olması..
.
Yer yer öğüt verir nitelikte olmasıyla uzaklaştığım ama kurgusunu-mesajını sevdiğim bir kitap oldu Petekgözlü Adam~
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Seda Çıngay Mellor çevirisi, Joe Wilson kapak görseliyle ~
.
İnsanların kendiyle olan savaşı öyle uzun, öyle çetrefilli ki.. Tüketmek ve tükenmekle süregelen bir savaş. Tayvanlı yazar Wu Ming Yi bu çatışmaya mitler, inançlar ve kayıpları da ekleyerek gerçek ile gerçeküstü arasında dolaştırıyor okuru.
Petekgözlü Adam, Atile’i ve Alice üzerinden dağları, denizleri, çöpleri, avlanmaları anlatıyor. Zamanla üst üste biriken tortuların çıkmama inadını da.
Oğlu ve eşinin dağda kaybolmasıyla ne yapacağını bilemeyen Alice ve ailelerin 15 yaşına gelen ikinci oğullarının Deniz Tanrısı’na kurban edildiği Wayo Wayo Adası’ndan Atille’i. İki ayrı kültür, iki ayrı korku tek sorun: öldürdüklerimizin bizi öldürecek olması..
.
Yer yer öğüt verir nitelikte olmasıyla uzaklaştığım ama kurgusunu-mesajını sevdiğim bir kitap oldu Petekgözlü Adam~
.
Seda Çıngay Mellor çevirisi, Joe Wilson kapak görseliyle ~
March 27, 2021
Atrei, quindicenne secondogenito, secondo le tradizioni dell'isola di Wayo-wayo, è destinato a offrirsi come sacrificio al dio del mare. Lui, però, stavolta, vuole essere il primo a sfidarlo e a sopravvivere.
Alice, dopo la scomparsa del marito e del figlio, è decisa a porre fine alla sua vita quando un gigantesco cumulo di spazzatura si infrange sulla sua casa e stravolge i suoi piani.
Uno cerca di aggrapparsi alla vita con tutte le sue forze, l'altra cerca un modo rapido e indolore per scivolare via da essa. Un contrasto insanabile. Due esistenze opposte che in qualche modo diventano balsamo l'una per l'altra.
Wu Ming- Yi, con la sua penna fortemente immersiva, ci trascina nella meraviglia della natura Taiwanese e del suo folklore, che, in questa storia, si sposa perfettamente con un pizzico di realismo magico.
In "Montagne e nuvole negli occhi" c'è molto dell'autore, le impronte delle sue passioni si sentono forte e chiare: la sua vena naturalista e ambientalista si uniscono per dare vita ad un racconto onirico e sognante dalla narrazione frammentata; flashback e flussi di coscienza si ripetono, indispensabili, per raccontare la storia dell'isola e dei personaggi, e percepirle sulla propria pelle.
È, infatti, un romanzo che parla di passioni e di perdite, di identità e memoria, di tradizioni e cambiamenti. Una storia intrisa di pura bellezza che, incastrata in un groviglio di malinconia, si lascia sciogliere a poco a poco rivelando un'esperienza di lettura unica, in grado di muovere qualcosa nel profondo del lettore.
Alice, dopo la scomparsa del marito e del figlio, è decisa a porre fine alla sua vita quando un gigantesco cumulo di spazzatura si infrange sulla sua casa e stravolge i suoi piani.
Uno cerca di aggrapparsi alla vita con tutte le sue forze, l'altra cerca un modo rapido e indolore per scivolare via da essa. Un contrasto insanabile. Due esistenze opposte che in qualche modo diventano balsamo l'una per l'altra.
Wu Ming- Yi, con la sua penna fortemente immersiva, ci trascina nella meraviglia della natura Taiwanese e del suo folklore, che, in questa storia, si sposa perfettamente con un pizzico di realismo magico.
In "Montagne e nuvole negli occhi" c'è molto dell'autore, le impronte delle sue passioni si sentono forte e chiare: la sua vena naturalista e ambientalista si uniscono per dare vita ad un racconto onirico e sognante dalla narrazione frammentata; flashback e flussi di coscienza si ripetono, indispensabili, per raccontare la storia dell'isola e dei personaggi, e percepirle sulla propria pelle.
È, infatti, un romanzo che parla di passioni e di perdite, di identità e memoria, di tradizioni e cambiamenti. Una storia intrisa di pura bellezza che, incastrata in un groviglio di malinconia, si lascia sciogliere a poco a poco rivelando un'esperienza di lettura unica, in grado di muovere qualcosa nel profondo del lettore.
January 24, 2018
This achingly beautiful—and achingly tragic—book saw me through some many weeks of laziness in my reading. Despite finding my way through very slowly, with one or two week-long breaks, I never felt lost when I returned to the book. The stories that make up this novel might lend themselves to being read fragmentally, but (having finally reached the end myself!) I would recommend reading it over the space of a week, if you have that luxury.
Wu Ming-Yi pours astonishing detail into a Taiwan where human development has already began to eviscerate mountain ecosystems. His stories concern a diverse group of people—scientists, bush people, masseuses, explorers—whose lives change when a terrifying oceanic trash vortex collides with the island of Taiwan. Ming-Yi is clearly captivated by the natural world, and our place in it, and writes about it with sensitivity and restraint.
I was haunted by The Man with the Compound Eyes and will read it again probably. I especially recommend this book to those who enjoy Miyazaki films, such as Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Ponyo, and Princess Mononoke.
Wu Ming-Yi pours astonishing detail into a Taiwan where human development has already began to eviscerate mountain ecosystems. His stories concern a diverse group of people—scientists, bush people, masseuses, explorers—whose lives change when a terrifying oceanic trash vortex collides with the island of Taiwan. Ming-Yi is clearly captivated by the natural world, and our place in it, and writes about it with sensitivity and restraint.
I was haunted by The Man with the Compound Eyes and will read it again probably. I especially recommend this book to those who enjoy Miyazaki films, such as Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Ponyo, and Princess Mononoke.
March 16, 2014
Set in Taiwan in the immediate future, The Man with the Compound Eyes is an allegorical tale, exploring issues of loss, loneliness, memory, identity, culture, communication, ecology and interdependency via the cleverly interwoven journeys of characters from diverse cultural backgrounds. Whilst the overall story is contemporary, it is heavily infused with elements of myth and legend, both traditional and, I suspect, freshly imagined. Beautifully written, with fantastic visual imagery and characters created with true empathy, I hope to see more of Wu Ming-Yi's writing translated to English in future.
'...the true source of culture is loneliness.'
***** = I personally loved this book - it really spoke to me in some way.
**** = I really liked this book & would probably recommend it to others.
*** = I liked this book but I wouldn't read it again.
** = It was a chore to finish this book.
* = I hated this book so much I only finished it out of spite so I could legitimately write a negative review.
'...the true source of culture is loneliness.'
***** = I personally loved this book - it really spoke to me in some way.
**** = I really liked this book & would probably recommend it to others.
*** = I liked this book but I wouldn't read it again.
** = It was a chore to finish this book.
* = I hated this book so much I only finished it out of spite so I could legitimately write a negative review.
July 9, 2021
I’m not quite sure what to think about ‘The Man with the Compound Eyes’. It took me a while to get into, possibly because I found the translation slightly awkward and stilted. Also, the narrative is highly non-linear, jumping between different points of view and time periods. It seemed to read more like a series of vignettes than a cohesive novel. On the other hand, the overarching themes of environmental disaster and the past catching up with the present gathered it together somewhat. I think the most vivid character to me was the sea, which was gradually engulfing every character in some way. The range of perspectives on the importance of the environment and damage to it were very vivid, I just wish they had been tied together a bit more clearly. This might be a matter of translation or the author's choice. It made the whole novel somewhat mysterious to me, with moments of profundity and great beauty.
December 23, 2022
He estat temptat molts cops de deixar-lo, però no he pogut. Aquesta història de diverses històries enganxa. No és un llibre de ciència-ficció, tampoc de fantasia, però la fantasia sura per totes les pàgines, i sí que hi ha algun capítol on la màgia de la fantasia brolla. Un llibre per llegir a poc a poc, sense presses, i sense perdre el fil, si pot ser. Molt ben escrit, de lectura agradable. Si tens temps i vols, no te'l perdis, paga la pena.
January 12, 2023
3.5 stars
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