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This evening, I read “Missing Aunt Mei” (by Cynthia Rylant, translated by Li Wenjun, Zhejiang Literature and Art 2008). By the penultimate chapter, I couldn’t help but feel tears welling up again. It’s actually a very happy chapter, a bit sad, but it also gives me a sense of deep happiness. Just like the girl Xiaoxia in the first chapter, when she peeked at the affectionate gestures of the two elderly people, and saw her adoptive father, Ober, combing his wife’s yellow braids, she couldn’t help but cry uncontrollably. At that moment, she felt incredibly happy.
After reading it, I couldn’t help but tell my wife that this book might not be a classic, but it seemed to clearly tell me the difference between books written for children and books written for adults. However, even so, I couldn’t say “what the difference was” at the time. I just wanted to say something to fill a certain sense of blissful confusion.
The day before yesterday, I finished reading Coetzee’s “Disgrace” in one sitting while traveling. For a long time that day, I felt a sense of loss, a profoundly uncomfortable feeling. The South African author, who won the Nobel Prize in 2003, described the myriad dilemmas of being a white South African intellectual in a remarkably direct and compelling way: personal, collective, historical, and cultural. By the end, I felt an indescribable sense of oppression and frustration. I couldn’t help but wonder, perhaps this is truly the case, and must we truly accept it so helplessly?
I guess it was my good fortune to stumble upon “Missing Aunt May” two days later. I even wondered if those writers like Coetzee should read books like this, too. Of course, “Missing Aunt May” is just a children’s novel that won the Newbery Medal in 1992. While the author has written a lot, it’s mostly children’s fiction and picture books, clearly a long way from a Nobel Prize. But it probably wouldn’t hurt to read it; after all, reading and writing aren’t about winning awards.
“Missing Aunt Mei” is a highly refined novel, divided into 12 chapters, a novella in length, with a rigorous, clean structure. The first chapter, a mere 10 pages, instantly draws the reader into the lives of Xiaoxia, Ober, and Aunt Mei—poor and simple, yet full of creativity and a profound sense of happiness. The family of three lives in an old trailer that seems like a toy thrown away by God, but to Xiaoxia it’s a paradise. The author manages to convey this uncanny, heavenly feeling in just 10 pages. I suppose this is what people often call masterful writing.
At the beginning of the second chapter, the author tells us that “Aunt Mei died while tending the garden.” So the rest of the story is just about one thing: Missing Aunt Mei.
May).
That’s not entirely accurate. The first sentence of the first chapter clearly states it: “On the day Aunt Mei died…” So the first chapter is also about missing Aunt Mei.
The book’s narrator is Xiao Xia. Her mother died when she was six, leaving her an orphan. Her mother likely knew she would die young, leaving her with nothing to leave behind, and unable to even properly arrange her future (as later events confirmed). All she could do before her death was hold her daughter night after night, longer than other mothers, so that she could feel more love. Thus, “when I see it and feel it again, I will know it is love.”
When I read this sentence, I suddenly remembered that aren’t those particularly excellent children’s literature works doing exactly this?
Because of her mother’s efforts, Xiao Xia was able to live and wait diligently, even when her relatives treated her like an unwanted child. One day, she saw Aunt Mei and Ober, who had come from afar. The two elderly people took her away as if she were an angel. Later, when Xiao Xia saw Ober combing Aunt Mei’s hair, she immediately recognized it: it was love, and she cried endlessly with happiness…
Because of this, I stubbornly believe that children should read more excellent picture books and more children’s novels such as “Missing Aunt May”, and not read Nobel Prize winners’ masterpieces such as “Shame” for the time being (of course they should still read them when they grow up).
When Aunt Mei passed away, Xiaoxia was twelve years old, which means that the three of them had lived in heaven for six years.
For a long time after Aunt Mei died, Xiaoxia and Ober’s life went from bad to worse, and neither of them cried, never had the chance to cry, never felt the mood to cry. Xiaoxia kept telling us that she thought Ober was about to collapse, but in retrospect, we knew that it was she who was really about to collapse.
Fortunately, that weird boy Cletus came into their lives.
From the third chapter to the end, this guy was always involved, which shows how important he was. But looking back, he didn’t accomplish anything particularly special. It was just that his perpetual curiosity about life inspired Xiao Xia and Ober, leading them from despair to a turning point…
Towards the end of the story, Xiao Xia finally cried. She cried and cried until her heart was filled with peace. Aunt Mei also came to her dreamland, babbling about her longing for her. Finally, she said: “You are really the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.Best Best”
It was when I read this sentence that I felt my vision blurry, and suddenly I had an urge to wake up my daughter and say this to her.
In the last chapter, Ober finally put the weathervanes he had stored in the old trailer into the garden. A strong wind blew, and they danced freely in the wind.
I suspect this narrative style is only repeated in stories for children. Life can be heavy, emotions can be gloomy, but that’s only temporary. A strong inner strength will eventually break through the cage, and “they lived happily ever after.” This narrative may be a bit cliché, perhaps even a bit religious, but it truly brings great comfort.
The power gained in this way can also be very strong, just like the power Xiao Xia gained from her mother and Aunt Mei.
The book’s translator, Mr. Li Wenjun, wrote in the afterword: “I’m very grateful to the publishing house for allowing an old man like me to translate such a loving book for young readers. During the more than one month of translation, I was able to immerse myself in a subtle sense of warmth and sadness. But it seems that I gained more than that. After completing the translation, I even gained a positive desire to live a good life, a desire to leave a good mark on the world. Wouldn’t this be more likely to attract the thoughts of Ober and Xiaoxia? I think I’m not the only one who has felt similarly after reading this book.”
This passage also touched my heart.
I initially picked up this book because of the translator. Mr. Li Wenjun is a favorite translator of mine, having translated many works by William Faulkner, who was once a favorite of mine. I was curious how a translator of “The Sound and the Fury” and “Absalom, Absalom” would approach a children’s work. I was not disappointed. This gentleman translated with great care, his style flowing smoothly, warm and humorous. Aside from a few instances where the names of fairy tale characters didn’t conform to conventional translations, the overall experience was excellent.
Reading such a book is a great pleasure!
Argentine Primera División on October 22, 2008 at Red Mud
