Nobel laurate Mo Yan weaves political themes into sly 'Pow!'
This year's Nobel laureate in literature is an author who somehow manages to write books with brazenly political themes while living in a dictatorship.
Mo Yan's latest novel, “Pow!” is a thinly veiled assault on the frayed moral fabric of that hyper-capitalist country known as Communist China.
The characters in “Pow!” do awful and disgusting things, most of them involving meat. The residents of Slaughterhouse Village love meat so much (be it donkey meat, Mongolian barbecue or “quail teppanyaki”) that they build a temple to it.
They fornicate in the presence of their Meat God. They taint the meat they sell with poisonous preservatives and play all sorts of tricks on unwitting consumers to make more money from it.
“We live in an age that scholars characterize as the primitive accumulation of capital,” says the venal government boss of Slaughterhouse Village. “Just what does that mean? Simply that people will make money by any means necessary, and that everyone's money is tainted by the blood of others.”
“Pow!” illustrates how Communist Party bosses have helped create this new China, a country where “moral behavior” is no longer “in fashion,” as the leader of Slaughterhouse Village puts it. And yet, Mo, the public intellectual, basically curls up into a ball when it comes to directly criticizing those bosses.
A few days before accepting the Nobel Prize this month, Mo gave the Chinese regime a pass on censorship: It's as necessary as airport screening, he said. And in a strange “Afterword” that appears in “Pow!” itself, he says his novel has no political intent: It's merely a story about a boy who likes to tell stories and nothing else.
“Narration is his ultimate goal in life,” Mo writes of the protagonist of “Pow!,” who is a boy of 10 and then, in alternating chapters, a young man of 20. “What about ideology? About that I have nothing to say. I've always taken pride in my lack of ideology, especially when I'm writing.”
That's all well and good for Mo Yan, the Chinese citizen, to say. And living in a country where there's only one official “ideology,” what else could he say?
But on the page, Mo Yan the novelist has produced in “Pow!” a work with a sly but obvious “ideological” bent. It portrays modern-day China as a place where government “thugs” in mirrored sunglasses and Audis, Cadillacs and Volvos run wild — and where even the most earnest and innocent citizen can get swept up in the culture of greed.
The wide-eyed innocent of “Pow!” is Luo Xiaotong. He is Mo's Candide, and his love of meat is the motivation that drives the story forward.
In Xiaotong's village, every conceivable kind of animal flesh is sold for human consumption. The locals leave the village's surrounding fields fallow as they buy and sell meat, injecting it with water so it weighs more, and with formaldehyde so that it lasts longer.
“No one's fool enough to work the fields,” says Xiaotong's mother, mocking her husband's desire to be a farmer. Xiaotong's father dreams that the Communist authorities will decree a second land reform that will allow him to return to the time-honored and noble traditions of working the soil. But it's a pipe dream, because, “it's easier for people to get rich illegally,” Xiaotong's mother says. Eventually, the boss Lao Lan funnels the energy of the villagers into a meat-packing plant — first it's a cooperative, later the leaders and managers become stockholders.
In alternating chapters, the now-adult Xiaotong relates this story of Slaughterhouse Village to a Buddhist monk in a strange temple dedicated to the Meat God and to the “Wutong Spirit,” a god of virility with a human head and the swollen genitalia of a donkey.
As Xiaotong speaks to the monk of his past in Slaughterhouse Village — “I was a precocious child of wide experience, who saw many bizarre events and many strange people” — all sorts of even stranger things happen in and around the temple. Mo rises to extraordinary heights of weirdness in these passages, slipping into a kind of ribald revelry.
A “Carnivore Festival” unfolds outside, bringing rampaging ostriches into the temple, much vomiting and the entry of a series of party officials and their acolytes. Mo's descriptions of these men are dripping with populist contempt and satirical glee.
The officials, Xiaotong tells us, have transformed Slaughterhouse Village into a “new economic development zone” with a vast manmade lake and fancy new villas. “The men who live in them drive fancy cars — Mercedes, BMW, Buick, Lexus,” Mo writes. “The women parade their purebreds — Pekingese, poodles, shar peis, papillons.”
Mo has said that the novel draws heavily from his childhood in rural China in the years after the Cultural Revolution and during the changes fostered by the market economic reforms of Deng Xiaoping.
In “Pow!,” Xiaotong's austere village life is gradually overwhelmed by an influx of capital, technology and a tectonic shift in values. But Mo's descriptions of these changes are rendered without any hint of sentimentality or nostalgia.
With the notable exception of Xiaotong's father, all the villagers allow themselves to be swept up by the new, corporate-style modernity. They even allow an especially bright, ruthless 10-year-old boy to run their meatpacking plant, under the tutelage of the corrupt boss Lao.
“We have given him heavy responsibilities because he has room in his head for new and original ideas that can bring vitality to our plant,” Lao says. “When the plant makes a profit, the money winds up in your pockets and that equals good food and fine liquor.”
Mo the public figure is careful with words. But Mo the novelist slips past the censors by dressing up his cutting realism in absurd and fantastic clothing. In doing so, he's embracing a long tradition that stretches from Cervantes to the German novelist Günter Grass.
I'm going to allow Mo the wiggle room he clearly needs because, in the end, his skill makes “Pow!” a wild, unpredictable ride — a work of demented and subversive genius.
Hector Tobar is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Times.
Show commenting policy
TribLive commenting policy
You are solely responsible for your comments and by using TribLive.com you agree to our Terms of Service.
We moderate comments. Our goal is to provide substantive commentary for a general readership. By screening submissions, we provide a space where readers can share intelligent and informed commentary that enhances the quality of our news and information.
While most comments will be posted if they are on-topic and not abusive, moderating decisions are subjective. We will make them as carefully and consistently as we can. Because of the volume of reader comments, we cannot review individual moderation decisions with readers.
We value thoughtful comments representing a range of views that make their point quickly and politely. We make an effort to protect discussions from repeated comments either by the same reader or different readers.
We follow the same standards for taste as the daily newspaper. A few things we won't tolerate: personal attacks, obscenity, vulgarity, profanity (including expletives and letters followed by dashes), commercial promotion, impersonations, incoherence, proselytizing and SHOUTING. Don't include URLs to Web sites.
We do not edit comments. They are either approved or deleted. We reserve the right to edit a comment that is quoted or excerpted in an article. In this case, we may fix spelling and punctuation.
We welcome strong opinions and criticism of our work, but we don't want comments to become bogged down with discussions of our policies and we will moderate accordingly.
We appreciate it when readers and people quoted in articles or blog posts point out errors of fact or emphasis and will investigate all assertions. But these suggestions should be sent via e-mail. To avoid distracting other readers, we won't publish comments that suggest a correction. Instead, corrections will be made in a blog post or in an article.
- Review: ‘Finders Keepers’ recalls ‘Misery’ as Stephen King torments a reader
- Review: A real ‘Shepherd’s Life’ proves a hit in print, online
- Review: Sarah Lotz’s ‘Day Four’ sends a cruise adrift in supernatural waters
- Review: New Edna O’Brien story anthology spans 5 decades of author’s work
- Storytime in the Park program a big hit in Burrell