July 24, 2020
Review of Life, by Lu Yao
Life, by Lu Yao, is a Chinese novel written – and situated – in the early 1980s. A lot has happened since in China (and globally), though much of the story revolves around timeless issues.
What does it mean to love someone of a different social status? How does one balance between responsibility and personal desire? Should one submit to their fate – here defined not as some ghostly force but as what society prescribed – or not?
Life, by Lu Yao, poses such questions. The problem is that not only does it actually attempt to answer them – there are no real answers to such questions – but that it does so in a narratively naive, uninspiring manner.
Review Of Life, by Lu Yao: Genre, Plot, Narrative
The genre of the book doesn’t really matter. Genre is a fluid concept anyway, and that is particularly the case with books set in a vastly different setting than what we, in the West, are used to.
Lu Yao’s Life describes life in the 1980s rural China. If you’re not familiar with what that entails, know that there’s a very strong class division at play: those born/residing in the countryside versus those born/residing in the city. The two lives can never really mix – not in the way we in the West understand.
A Linear Plot and a Problematic Narrative
With this in mind, Life describes the literally hopeless attempt of a young man to escape the life of a peasant. The plot is excessively linear, which renders the characters rather flat and uninteresting.
As if the author realized that every now and then, he attempts to squeeze in some background information in an extremely crude, naive manner – narrative exposition lacks creativity and literary merit. The author also has a bad habit of entering the minds of his characters a bit too abruptly and directly, explicitly telling the reader what they feel, what they think, and what they should do, rather than allowing the art to express affect in a symbolic manner.
Review Of Life, by Lu Yao: Characters
As I mentioned earlier, the characters of Life are rather uninteresting, as they lack the necessary depth and abstraction. Indeed, it often feels as if the novel belonged to the young adult genre, with shallow love interests (that change literally overnight) and the associated drama, stubborn parents, and some sort of faux coming-of-age themes.
More damaging for the lack of realism in the characters is their complete lack of evolution. Without revealing too much – not that it matters – Lu Yao’s main characters begin from point A, more or less gain everything they desire, then suddenly – and quite randomly/arbitrarily – just before the end, they fall back to point A, sort of.
The Deus ex Machina Problem
This goes against every notion of Aristotelian narrative principles, in that it displays no narrative tension – not to mention the Deus ex Machina problem, described in my post on narrative endings, as well as by Aristotle himself:
It is therefore evident that the unraveling of the plot, no less than the complication, must arise out of the plot itself, it must not be brought about by the Deus ex Machina […]
The Deus ex Machina should be employed only for events external to the drama – for antecedent or subsequent events, which lie beyond the range of human knowledge, and which require to be reported or foretold.
Aristotle, Poetics
For a related explanation, also check my comments on adventuristic time.
Review Of Life, by Lu Yao: General Impression
Life, by Lu Yao, began very promisingly. For quite a while it looked well structured, having the foundations of a proper literary-fiction novel.
Sadly, however, things begin to crumble after the first third. The plot is too linear, leaving little chance for character exploration. The language itself is not bad, though often unnecessarily pompous (I don’t know if it’s a translation issue).
More problematically, the narrative style is excessively naive, with the author invading the characters’ minds and telling us explicitly what they should think, what they should do, and overall what happens. It has all the ingredients of a young adult, coming-of-age novel.
Ultimately, I can’t say reading Life was a waste of time. It flows effortlessly – ironically, though, that’s the problem; the reader is not disturbed enough to be forced into reflection – and pats the reader on the back until the very end, where “fate” undoes everything.
Although “fate” here has a human name, the action is so random and pointless, that it comes off as an avoidable ending. The author seems exceedingly preoccupied with maintaining the status quo, which calls for a fanciful solution to the predicament, a definite answer to what should’ve been an unanswerable question.