Translations: Renke POPULAR FICTION (GZ sleaze literature under the influence of bootlegs and Echenoz)
I don’t have much of a sense of rock n’ roll scenes. My impression of Wu Tiao Ren 五条人 was formed by nothing more than viewing a few clips on the internet of their performances. Sleazy, literary cool, is how I might sum up their style. They remind me of the Hold Steady. The lead singer goes by the name Renke 仁科.
I learned about his debut story collection from a review in Modern Chinese Literature Studies 中国现代文学研究丛刊. The book is called Tōngsú xiǎoshuō 通俗小说, or Popular Fiction. The review by Lin Zheng 林峥—"Urban village enlightenment and the plastic bag aesthetic"—tosses out possible referents: Bukowski, Kerouac, Henry Miller, Jean Echenoz, Alain Robbe-Grillet. Citing these influences can be an excuse for obnoxious formal looseness, but they still excite me.
The review talks about the peculiar culture of Guangzhou’s urban villages—cut off from some legitimate connections to Southern cosmopolitanism, but absorbing the backwash in the form of bootleg culture and dǎkǒu 打口 CDs and pirate radio and shaky internet connections.
I understand these things. I understand Guangzhou. China has produced great reams of urban fiction, most of which has not been translated into English, but not much is set in Guangzhou. It’s too bad.
Many of the stories are short. They are sometimes a single sentence—a gag, a line of dialogue anchored only by the title—or a sketch of a scene. They are occasionally linked. Some stand alone.
I will translate for you three shorter entries—“green island western restaurant,” “tomorrow the sun will rise from out of fortune plaza,” and “robbery”—and one longer one—“rat/beer girl.” The writing is simple and strong. I wonder if I am overrating them because I do have some tenuous connection to the places they are set. I will let you judge that for yourself.
I have used some playful formatting. Without an editor to look things over, I can have a bit of fun. I have used my own Cantonese transliterations. Please forgive my excesses. These translations are for novelty purposes only.
green island western restaurant
the mother hen, who was called MEADOWLARK sent a text message to her regular customers as soon as she returned from her trip to the countryside with a new bundle of girls. the text message read:
just got to the station with
fresh stock so
get em while they’re hot
CHINA WHITE sammy and BALDHEAD hoa received the message at the same time. oh they were excited. their erections were steelhard. in principle, a novelist should not indulge in this kind of crassness, but, in principle, they can put words together however they choose. in fact, a writer can put down on the page whatever he wants, for his or her own reasons, or even for no reasons at all.
CHINA WHITE sammy did not use drugs. he didn't even smoke cigarettes. BALDHEAD hoa was bald. they convened at green island western restaurant, planning to eat a steak and sip some red wine before going to visit MEADOWLARK.
the restaurant was on the ground floor of a shopping center. i used to go there often with my friends to drink and chat. a bottle of red wine was only thirty-nine yuan. they also ran a promotion with all-you-can-drink beer for eight yuan.
we had started a writing group, but all of us were so ashamed of our work that we had to get good and drunk before we pulled it out. now that i think back to that time, i can't help but cringe. young people can be so full of shit.
rat/beer girl
the rain had stopped, it was still humid / muggy and uncomfortable
the boy at the barbecue stall put the rain tarp away / i took a seat near the fridge ordered three skewers chicken meat with cartilage and five more marinated and waited for the beer girl to come
the beer girl had two different uniforms / one was a tight short dress / one was short shorts and a tank top i liked them both / i had been paying attention to her for a long time / the beer company sent her she was a good worker apart from doing her job on promotion she would also bring food to tables / when there were a lot of customers the tables of the stall would sprawl down to the doorway of the building where i rented a place when i got off work i had to squeeze past her rushing around sweat dripping down her cheeks / and heart thundering i slipped in the front door
i wish i could slip into her heart / i like to daydream i like to fantasize but everything starts from my imagination / wang lei has an album called everything starts from love what is love? love is imagination / the material world doesn't account for love love is metaphysical love is shanxi black vinegar love is pineapple...
she was tied up by another table / a couple of middleaged lardasses teasing her rude men mouths full of reproductive organs crude uncultured trash / the fact that the universe can manufacture filth like this is proof that god is filthy too / she shook them off quickly came towards me / she had on a pair of cheap plastic flipflops blue seethrough like gummi candy sparkly glitter embedded in them / she steps lightly leaving footprints on the damp pavement reflecting the gray sky
"lengjai what are you drinking" she asked
she looked at me i looked at her
"we have a new promotion ten kuai for three bottles" she continued / i nodded tilt mouth give her a smile / i admit that i was a bit nervous / she gives me one of her own standard issue smiles gives me a thumb and finger OK goes to get the beer / i thought the basics of a relationship have been established now i only need to wait
three beers down the hatch i called her over again signaled for three more bottles / gave me another smile and OK these signs that carried still their superficial meaning but also another level down a vague emotion that to me meant more than anything else
too bad the beer was sent over by the girl that worked for the barbecue stall fuck ugly people always fucking things up / sorry i lost my head there / but what can you do too many customers there was no way for the beer girl to get over to me everyone needed her they wanted their beer and a couple words tease her a bit / some of them were open about it some tried to keep it a secret sohai all of them drunk and pawing at her / i liked talking to her too i liked her from the bottom of my heart i liked everything about her everything she did / i loved the way she moved around the place i thought if i was a photographer or a director then i would take her picture put her in a movie let her play a beer girl let her true colors come out film it right here don't change a thing don't change a person everything the same except for one thing i would stick a plastic diamond onto her flipflops let her glitter as she walks
everyone loves her i can tell she's happy here that's the right way to be her goal is to get us to buy beer and then she gets a better commission / can't be like me working in that music store not particularly goodlooking not particularly smooth selling a couple acoustic guitars a month still can't work up the nerve to trick any kids to sign up for classes / no commission just the basic wage of a eight hundred fifty yuan rent and utilities is four hundred two meals a day around three hundred a hundred twenty for a pack a day thirty left at the end of the month / good thing the music store is close no need to pay for a bus or there wouldn't be enough to get by
to get through the next three bottles i ordered some oysters ten more skewers / the booze relaxed me the money started to flow
the oysters crackled over the charcoal the boy at the grill dumped them onto a metal plate carried to my table by the girl that worked with him / big fat zhanjiang oysters with a faint metallic tang to them nice and fresh / didn't even need to bother with the garlic sauce / picked each shell up and sucked it clean washed down with ice cold beer
business for the barbecue stall was good customers kept coming attracting their own trade / the beggars followed them women selling fried snails professional and amateur buskers singing their songs / the amateurs were some little girls each with a guitar songs on a sheet five yuan for five songs sometimes in tune sometimes not fingers scritching on the frets out of time with the right hand / the professionals had sheets of songs too but they could sing backup for you if you wanted to do the song yourself kind of like mobile karaoke that's what the customers at the barbecue place like to do singing pop songs moaning like they were getting it up the ass at the same time
three more bottles down the hatch the buzz reaches another plateau / i got lost in my fantasies either thinking about some stupid fucking shit or the ultimate question brain whirring nonstop / sometimes i would be flooded with good ideas sometimes terrible thoughts rushed in / one second i was thinking about how get rich and ask the beer girl out win her heart get married and start a life together grow old together / the next second i wanted to rip her dress off and violate her terrible terrible i tried to knock the thought of my head / i tried to shake myself out of it but my mind was too crowded with these thoughts bubbling like a pot of rice porridge i didn't know how to clear my mind oh the wallet on the table across from mine caught my eye and what if i grabbed it
six beers and i had to piss / staggered down the alley behind the stall / the spot with the sign warning against public urination is where everyone went to piss / reeked of piss back there naan ding / there's no reason you had to piss back there in the alley you could strike out like columbus for a new world like the native strays marking their territory on the power poles like a pigeon resting on a shoulder like a cockroach / but i couldn't hold it i didn't care about making any new discoveries / i leaned toward the wall shut my eyes tried to let it out as slowly as possible / already drunk the heat out head swimming ready to throw up have to breathe deep but it stinks too bad i have to hold it no can't do that have to breathe through my mouth breath by breath like a tiny animal like a little rat / the thought makes me even more nauseous / a few nights before in the middle of the night a little rat ran across my body woke me from my dream as its claws scratched my lips i knew the rats ran over me when i was asleep but this time he had cut my lips so i was scared i might have gotten rabies mad cow black death / studying the wound in the mirror i saw my own face ragged whiskers dark skin pointy mouth two crooked porcelain incisors and realized i really did look like a rat / when i got back to my seat i continued watching the beer girl savoring her every movement / watching her come and go i felt as if i was watching a character in a movie or a dream / no this isn't the right metaphor rather she was like a character in a novel under the shop lights street lights neon lights her cheeks slicked with sweat glowing pale blue glowing faint pink of setting sun / she wiped off the sweat came closer slapping her cheap plastic flipflops she steps lightly leaving footprints on the damp pavement
i smiled and waved to her she gave an OK turned and pulled three more bottles out of the fridge
"you can really put them away huh" she said
"you could say that" i said
she cracked open the three bottles and reached into the bag around her waist produced a promotional pen in the shape of a beer bottle / she misunderstood me six bottles was enough to put down any southerner my cousin was considered a hard drinker and his limit was five he was older than me and he had spent enough time up north when he left he could only drink four but what about me who had never left the south the only thing i took from the north is a bitter wind
three more bottles to drink three more bottles i can't drink / it's too humid down here drinking too much will wreck your kidneys wreck your stomach wreck pretty much everything / but i decided to empty those bottles no matter what it took it was my sworn duty almost to drink any bottle she brought me
everything must change breakthrough i must become a northerner become a man of the rolling prairies a hun astride a mare charging across the great plains putting the entire civilized world to flame and sword piss on all the pretty women / no i mean i need to make a breakthrough i need to break through her defenses conquer her express my love / courage i need courage i think i have it now / the conditions are right a slight breeze no rain look up to lady moon
but i need more oysters no not just oysters a breakthrough some ruthlessness i scatter my wealth knowing it will come back to me / i ordered some lamb skewers two lamb kidney a baked fish mushrooms with garlic and something i had never tried before guangxi cat meat in a clay pot
slowly the booze was drunk up the meat eaten i was so drunk that i began to feel sober again most of the customers were getting up to go / the beer girl was picking up empty bottles from the floor / rats were scavenging / a homeless guy was rummaging a trash bin / the boy at the grill dumped water over the charcoal / the thick white smoke drifted my way wrapped itself around me / the main character worked up the courage to stand up stagger through the smoke toward the beer girl
the rain came down
tomorrow the sun will rise from out of fortune plaza
we were sitting in front of the store legs crossed each holding a beer. the summer sun shone down on us through the leaves of a banyan tree. xiao ming was wearing a red and white striped shirt with cartoon weiner dog on the back. it was a cheap shirt washed too many times so that the weiner dog had become hazy and further disfigured by a grease stain. it looked like it was cut from one of the red and white bags dropped around construction sites pissed and shit on by a stray dog. i was wearing a t-shirt with a rolling stones lips on it. it wasn't a bootleg but a gift from a friend in hong kong that went to go see them play at a casino in macao. i was too broke to get there to see them but i wish i had scraped together the money.
we often drank outside the store. the owner like hong kong and taiwan pop songs and played them on a cassette deck and speakers out front. we drank we ate peanuts we sang along. at that moment that day the song on the stereo was alan tam and shirley kwan “will you still love me tomorrow.”
the sun set slowly over the tall buildings in the distance. back before the buildings went up it still would have been bright. we thought watching the sun go down what a shame that was. the owner of the store didn't really care he didn't see a problem.
he spent most of his time in the store so losing or gaining another hour of sunlight wasn't particularly important to him.
"the sun is going down behind the mountains" i said
"tomorrow the sun will rise from out of fortune plaza" the owner of the store said standing in front of his stereo. he spent all day studying the du ma papers through his reading glasses dreaming of hitting it big on the underground lottery. he sometimes cut in with a few remarks that didn't really mean much.
"i'm worried it won't get up over those skyscrapers. it's going to rain all week starting tomorrow the weather report said" i said.
"it's still going to come up even if you can't see it" he said taking off his glasses. i was getting sick of the old guy. i wondered what he had been reading or whose influence he had fallen under. i hated the way he talked. i got pissed off.
he put down his paper and walked over with his blue plastic stool. he was skinny moved slow gaunt chinless hunchbacked. he always wore a promotional t-shirt for arawana brand edible vegetable blend oil with yellow waves on it that looked like pangolin scales.
"bracket is fucked screws are rusty rollers too fuck me can't even move the thing" he said standing on his plastic stool trying to crank out the awning.
"replace it! get a new one. it's too old. must be a hundred years old" i said.
"yeah go over to nantai market and get a french-style one" xiao ming said.
"no no this is american style coca-cola gives them out as a promotion i'll fix it up" the owner of the store said.
"coca-cola and pepsi are all up and down this street this one's coke that one's pepsi. if i had a choice i'd go for laoganma or master kang" i said.
"why?" xiao ming asked.
"don't ask me that" i said.
"get a french one. i saw one at nantai market last time i went there. it would look good here" xiao ming said.
"i'm broke" the owner of the store said.
a breeze kicked up and two rats jumped out of the trash can. a jet went overhead eclipsing the north star. xiao ming kicked my foot and whispered "she's coming."
the owner's daughter was in a technical school off on saturdays when she came to help out at the store. out of her uniform you would never take her for a student. she was the prettiest girl around a heavenly beauty like emmanuelle béart in date with an angel. she liked fooling around she liked dancing she liked skating she liked pretty girls she liked jasmine her eyes hid ten thousand wonder whys and one how. i lived her i wanted to marry her i wanted to hold her in my arms for eternity.
taking advantage of the owner's distraction with the awning i went inside to get a beer and tried to slip a note in her hand. her expression darkened. i pulled my hand back. "you two losers stay the fuck away from me" she said. i nodded and turned to go glanced at xiao ming and motioned for him to follow me toward the skyscrapers. we didn't go back for two weeks.
that day when i got home i ate the note. my heart was broken. i felt miserable.
robbery
the day before yesterday, ah hoa gambled away his salary for the whole year. he spent today trying to decide whether or not to steal it back. the knife goes in silver, comes out red, and you go in for a hundred years. before he went out, he decided not to sharpen his knife. he thought it was better to leave it a bit dull.