莫言凭借长篇小说《蛙》获得诺贝尔文学奖。莫言的作品植根于古老深厚的文明,具有无限丰富而又科学严密的想象空间,其写作思维新颖独特,以激烈澎湃和柔情似水的语言,展现了中国这一广阔的文化熔炉在近现代史上经历的悲剧、战争,反映了一个时代充满爱、痛和团结的生活。莫言先生是当代中国文学的代表作家之一,以独特的写实手法和丰富的想象力,描写了中国城市与农村的真实现状,作品被译成多种语言。
我年轻的时候,读了莫言的不少书,粗俗的语言,灰暗的农村历史,以及对两性的比较露骨的描述,还是很有震撼力和吸引力的。在当时,莫言作品影响力已经很大,得到各种国内的文学奖。特别是巜红高粱》被张艺谋拍成了电影,又在国际上获奖,莫言风头更是一时无两。
莫言获得诺贝尔文学奖已过去十年了,至今争议不断,有人说莫言的文学水平高,影响力大,得到全世界认可才获奖的。有人说莫言是依靠出卖祖国民族,迎合西方人口味才获奖的。
我认为莫言获奖,首先是我们的祖国强大了,我们的声音和观点不可被世界无视了。我们都知道的一个现实是,一个人要是混得不好,力量小,影响力小,他说的话再对,嗓门再高,也没人认同,没人附合。而一个有钱人,地位高的人,随便说两句,就有人拍马附合。这个世界就是这么现实,以前,我国贫弱,发出的声音被有意无意的无视,再优秀的作家,也得不到诺贝尔文学奖。
另一个原因是,为什么是莫言获奖?一个人自吹自擂,或者说只唱赞歌是很难被大家认可的,而自黑,自揭伤疤的人和作品反而容易得到认可附合。这是人的共性,不必讳言。而莫言的作品,比较真实的描述了我们在发展过程中的灰暗面,让评奖的人,选中了。
现在,文坛中,批判莫言可以赚名声,赚流量,赚钱。很多作家,文人,教授,敏锐的抓住了这个机会,上岗上线的批莫言。自己的作品没出名,借着批莫言出了名。
莫言的作品,我还是多年以前看过,也多年没看了,当时很受震撼冲击,慢慢的印象也淡了,记得写的农村的灰暗面,人性的卑微,卑劣面,挺多的。现在想想,不是太高大上的作品。
我想说的是,我们泱泱大国,容得下一个莫言,容得下他揭短自黑。他毕竟是我们的作家,他的作品有警示的作用。我们的文化,我们的事业,我们的祖国,在不断前进成长。我们不必要非把莫言批得体无完肤,他是我们中国人,是我们的骄傲。
瑞典文学院诺奖委员会主席瓦斯特伯格:
尊敬的国王和皇后陛下,尊敬的诺贝尔奖得主们,女士们先生们,
莫言是个诗人,他扯下程式化的宣传画,使个人从茫茫无名大众中突出出来。 他用嘲笑和讽刺的笔触,攻击历史和谬误以及贫乏和政治虚伪。他有技巧的揭露了人类最阴暗的一面,在不经意间给象征赋予了形象。
高密东北乡体现了中国的民间故事和历史。在这些民间故事中,驴与猪的吵闹淹没了人的声音,爱与邪恶被赋予了超自然的能量。
莫言有着无与伦比的想象力。他很好的描绘了自然;他基本知晓所有与饥饿相关的事情;中国20世纪的疾苦从来都没有被如此直白的描写:英雄、情侣、虐待者、匪徒--特别是坚强的 、不屈不挠的母亲们 。他向我们展示了一个没有真理、常识或者同情的世界,这个世界中的人鲁莽、无助且可笑。
中国历史上重复出现的同类相残的行为证明了这些苦难。对莫言来说,这代表着消费、无节制、废物、肉体上的享受以及无法描述的欲望,只有他才能超越禁忌试图描述。
在小说《酒国》中,最精致的佳肴是烧烤三岁儿童。男童沦为食物;女童因为被忽视而得以幸存。这是对中国计划生育政策的嘲讽,因为计划生育大量女胎被堕胎: 女孩连被吃的资格都没有。莫言为此写了一整本小说《蛙》。
莫言的故事有着神秘和寓意,让所有的价值观得到体现。莫言的人物充满活力,他们甚至用不道德的办法和手段实现他们生活目标,打破命运和政治的牢笼。
《丰乳肥臀》是莫言最著名的小说,以女性视角描述了1960年的大跃进和大饥荒。他讥讽了革命伪科学,就是用兔子给羊受精,同时不理睬所有的怀疑者,将他们当成右翼。小说的结尾描述了九十年代的新资本主义,会忽悠的人靠卖化妆品富了起来,并想通过混种受精培育凤凰。
莫言生动的向我们展示了一个被人遗忘的农民世界,虽然无情但又充满了愉悦的无私。每一个瞬间都那么精彩。作者知晓手工艺、冶炼技术、建筑、挖沟开渠、放牧和游击队的技巧并且知道如何描述。他似乎用笔尖描述了整个人生。
他比拉伯雷、斯威夫特和马尔克斯之后的多数作家都要滑稽和犀利。他的语言辛辣。他对于中国过去一百年的描述中,没有跳舞的独角兽和少女。但是他描述的猪圈生活让我们觉得非常熟悉。意识形态和改革有来有去,但是人类的自我和贪婪却一直存在。所以莫言为所有的小人物打抱不平。
在莫言的小说世界里,品德和残酷交战,对阅读者来说这是一种文学探险。曾有如此的文学浪潮席卷了中国和世界么?莫言作品中的文学力度压过大多数当代作品。
瑞典文学院祝贺你。请你从国王手中接过2012年诺贝尔文学奖。
莫言诺奖颁奖词(英文版)
Award Ceremony Speech
Presentation Speech by Per Wästberg, Writer, Member of the Swedish Academy, Chairman of the Nobel Committee, 10December2012
Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Esteemed Nobel Laureates, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Mo Yan is a poet who tears down stereotypical propaganda posters, elevating the individual from an anonymous human mass. Using ridicule and sarcasm Mo Yan attacks history and its falsifications as well as deprivation and political hypocrisy. Playfully and with ill-disguised delight, he reveals the murkiest aspects of human existence, almost inadvertently finding images of strong symbolic weight.
North-eastern Gaomi county embodies China’s folk tales and history. Few real journeys can surpass these to a realm where the clamour of donkeys and pigs drowns out the voices of the people’s commissars and where both love and evil assume supernatural proportions.
Mo Yan’s imagination soars across the entire human existence. He is a wonderful portrayer of nature; he knows virtually all there is to know about hunger, and the brutality of China’s 20th century has probably never been described so nakedly, with heroes, lovers, torturers, bandits – and especially, strong, indomitable mothers. He shows us a world without truth, common sense or compassion, a world where people are reckless, helpless and absurd.
Proof of this misery is the cannibalism that recurs in China’s history. In Mo Yan, it stands for unrestrained consumption, excess, rubbish, carnal pleasures and the indescribable desires that only he can attempt to elucidate beyond all tabooed limitations.
In his novel Republic of Wine, the most exquisite of delicacies is a roasted three-year-old. Boys have become exclusive foodstuff. The girls, neglected, survive. The irony is directed at China’s family policy, because of which female foetuses are aborted on an astronomic scale: girls aren’t even good enough to eat. Mo Yan has written an entire novel, Frog, about this.
Mo Yan’s stories have mythical and allegorical pretensions and turn all values on their heads. We never meet that ideal citizen who was a standard feature in Mao’s China. Mo Yan’s characters bubble with vitality and take even the most amoral steps and measures to fulfil their lives and burst the cages they have been confined in by fate and politics.
Instead of communism’s poster-happy history, Mo Yan describes a past that, with his exaggerations, parodies and derivations from myths and folk tales, is a convincing and scathing revision of fifty years of propaganda.
In his most remarkable novel, Big Breasts and Wide Hips, where a female perspective dominates, Mo Yan describes the Great Leap Forward and the Great Famine of 1960 in stinging detail. He mocks the revolutionary pseudo-science that tried to inseminate sheep with rabbit sperm, all the while dismissing doubters as right-wing elements. The novel ends with the new capitalism of the ‘90s with fraudsters becoming rich on beauty products and trying to produce a Phoenix through cross-fertilisation.
In Mo Yan, a forgotten peasant world arises, alive and well, before our eyes, sensually scented even in its most pungent vapours, startlingly merciless but tinged by joyful selflessness. Never a dull moment. The author knows everything and can describe everything – all kinds of handicraft, smithery, construction, ditch-digging, animal husbandry, the tricks of guerrilla bands. He seems to carry all human life on the tip of his pen.
He is more hilarious and more appalling than most in the wake of Rabelais and Swift — in our time, in the wake of García Marquez. His spice blend is a peppery one. On his broad tapestry of China’s last hundred years, there are neither dancing unicorns nor skipping maidens. But he paints life in a pigsty in such a way that we feel we have been there far too long. Ideologies and reform movements may come and go but human egoism and greed remain. So Mo Yan defends small individuals against all injustices – from Japanese occupation to Maoist terror and today’s production frenzy.
For those who venture to Mo Yan’s home district, where bountiful virtue battles the vilest cruelty, a staggering literary adventure awaits. Has ever such an epic spring flood engulfed China and the rest of the world? In Mo Yan’s work, world literature speaks with a voice that drowns out most contemporaries.
The Swedish Academy congratulates you. I call on you to accept the 2012 Nobel Prize for Literature from the hand of His Majesty the King.
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