1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 366 Are You Performing?
The EPB Building is the teaching building for the Department of English and the Department of Philosophy. The office of the "International Writing Program" is located on the fourth floor of this building.

"Teaching assistant of the writing class?" Jiang Xian heard the news from Arthur, who was in charge of the writing program.

"Yes, you know how hard it is to find a job in the United States. This teaching assistant position was hard-won by the writing project. Working as a teaching assistant part-time can earn you a considerable salary." Arthur said.

"Let me think about it." Jiang Xian said.

Indeed, for other writers, this teaching assistant job is very valuable. Compared with washing dishes, cleaning toilets, and being a nanny, it is decent and the salary is high.

But it had no appeal to Jiang Xian at all.

He came to the United States with great difficulty, but he didn't come to experience the 996 work schedule in modern society.

Arthur was stunned. "Jiang, what is there to consider? Is this something that is so difficult to decide?"

"For me, yes." Jiang Xian shrugged and looked at Arthur apologetically.

"what?!"

Arthur couldn't understand it at all, but there was nothing he could do. "Okay, Jiang, you have to reply to me quickly."

"no problem."

Jiang Xian left the office and immediately ran into Edwin, who was with Nie Hualing and a thin Chinese man.

"Hi, Jiang Xian!"

Edwin and Nie Hualing greeted Jiang Xian.

"Let me introduce you. This is Professor William Yeh, a poet, poetry critic, and translator. He translates Chinese stories and modern poetry."

"William Yeh?"

Jiang Xian looked over.

Ye Weilian was not tall and his face looked a little gloomy, but he revealed a kind of confidence, which made him look not too ugly.

This person is not well-known in China, but he is as famous as Chen Yingzhen in Taiwan and is known as one of the three great masters of modern poetry in Taiwan.

"This is Jiang Xian, a very outstanding young writer in China."

"Hello."

"Hello."

Jiang Xian shook hands with Ye Weilian, and then greeted his wife.

I have to say that William Yeh’s wife is exceptionally beautiful and has an outstanding temperament.

I don't know how the two of them got together.

This may be the charm of the poet.

Many of the poets Jiang Xian knew were lucky in love.

Take Zhao Zhenkai for example, both of his wives were very beautiful.

"Professor William Yeh will have a lecture this afternoon on the translation of Wang Wei's poems," said Nie Hualing.

"Poems by Wang Wei?"

"Yes, translating ancient poetry into English is not an easy task, just look at it."

Jiang Xian took the translation materials from Nie Hualing's hand and took a look at them. There were two translated poems by Wang Wei on the materials.

One is "Autumn Night in the Mountain Retreat" and the other is one of "Seven Pastoral Songs".

As for translation, it means translating each image in a poem one by one, such as "empty mountain after a fresh rain", which is translated into the corresponding English as "empty mountain after a fresh rain."

"It is still too difficult to convey the beauty of ancient Chinese poetry," Jiang Xian sighed.

Just take the translation just now as an example.

Not a single image is missed, but I’m afraid foreigners would find it difficult to see the realm behind the image.

“Compared to English, Chinese is more inclusive.”

Jiang Xian said, "When Chinese is converted into English, the beauty of the artistic conception will be lost to a certain extent, but it is much easier to convert English into Chinese."

"Not necessarily." Edwin, an American, protested, "You only look at the problem from the perspective of the Chinese world. Every language is a different world. We introduced your film The Second Handshake, and everyone almost fainted from laughing."

"Edwin, let me give you an example."

Jiang Xian said, "Margaret Mitchell, a modern American female writer, has a novel called Gone with the Wind, which is about the Civil War."

"I know."

Of course Edwin knew this novel. The novel was adapted into a movie and won eight Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actress, Best Color Cinematography, Best Art Direction, and Best Editing.

"The title of this novel, directly translated into Chinese, would probably mean 'shattered', 'vanished into thin air', 'gone forever', 'gone with the wind'."

Edwin is fluent in Chinese. After listening to Jiang Xian’s translations of “Gone with the Wind”, he thought they were good and interesting.

"But do you know how we translated it in the end?" Jiang Xian kept it a secret.

"how?"

Edwin secretly wondered how the title of the novel would be translated in China, and kept coming up with plans in his mind.

""float"."

Jiang Xian said lightly.

"what?"

"Gone with the Wind." Jiang Xian repeated.

As soon as he finished speaking, Edwin's eyes turned towards him.

The movie "Gone with the Wind" was introduced into China before the liberation and was shown for a while. I don't know who gave the movie a commercial translation name, "Gone with the Wind".

As for the novel, it was only published in the country two years ago.

"Don't look at me like that. This is not my translation." Jiang Xian said with a smile.

"This is so great"

"awesome!"

After listening to Jiang Xian's translation, Edwin, who had been feeling a lump in his throat, suddenly felt relaxed.

"Well, Jiang Xian, I have to admit that Chinese translation is indeed an art."

Edwin was finally convinced.

"Jiang, it seems that you have a lot of experience in translation." Ye Weilian, who had been listening silently for a long time, said with a smile.

"It's not really an experience. I just repeated what others have done."

"Edwin!"

As we were chatting, we heard shouting from the side.

Several people looked in the direction of the sound and soon saw Wang Anyi's figure.

"Jiang Xian, why are you here too?" Wang Anyi looked at Jiang Xian in surprise.

She said she came to listen to William Yeh's lecture.

“It’s not easy to get here.”

Wang Anyi said with self-admiration that she was a person with poor sense of direction and could never tell east from west, south from north.

Since they were here, Jiang Xian simply went to listen to Ye Weilian's lecture with Wang Anyi.

Ye Weilian seemed to be very interested in him. He always liked to put forward some opinions and call Jiang Xian to express his views.

Finally, the topic of Chinese poetry rhyme was brought up, and Jiang Xian was asked to talk about it again. He simply summed it up in one sentence:
"The rhymes of Chinese poetry are rapid, while the rhymes of Western poetry are long and will make people sleepy."

"Ha ha ha ha."

Everyone who came to listen to the report laughed and looked at Jiang Xian, the unfamiliar oriental face.

It was almost six o'clock when the lecture ended. Jiang Xian, Wang Anyi and several other writers went to Old Capital, a shopping mall.

"This dress is nice."

Wang Anyi pointed to a piece of clothing and said.

The clothes are in the style of a ski jacket, with wool on the outside and a layer of artificial fur on the inside. The wool is white, and there are patterns of brown, purple and pink on the shoulders and bottom hem.

Wang Anyi liked it very much and tried it again and again.

"How much is this?" She asked Jiang Xian to ask the salesperson for her.

"Forty-nine dollars," the other party replied.

"what?!"

Wang Anyi was shocked. "This is too expensive. These Americans are so ruthless. Forty-nine dollars is equivalent to one hundred RMB. One piece of clothing is equivalent to a worker's monthly salary."

"I'll ask again."

Jiang Xian helped her bargain for a lower price.

The other party said that the price had already been reduced and the original price was exactly sixty-two dollars.

"never mind."

Wang Anyi took a deep breath and put the clothes on the hanger. "It's too expensive."

"If you like, I can lend you the money." Jiang Xian said. "Ah? No, that's not necessary."

Wang Anyi waved her hand and said, "Don't rush when buying things. Look more, compare more, and choose more."

"."

Jiang Xian stopped talking nonsense and directly took out the money to buy the dress for her.

Wang Anyi was shocked.

"Jiang Xian, what are you doing? I told you, it's really not necessary."

"An Yi, I'll give you this dress. I just ask you to do me a favor."

"Jiang Xian, you have a wife and will have a child soon, so don't make mistakes in your work style." Wang Anyi took a few steps back and reminded him.

"Cough cough cough cough."

Jiang Xian was choked by his saliva and coughed a few times, "What are you thinking about? I want to ask you to be my assistant teacher in the writing class for a while."

"Assistant teacher?"

Wang Anyi immediately remembered what he had said before, "That's the place recommended for you to read, right?"

"Correct."

Jiang Xian said, "You know the writing class, right? It has a strong academic atmosphere and the teachers have very deep insights into literature. This is not only a job, but also a good opportunity to learn."

"But why don't you go?" Wang Anyi didn't understand.

"I have more things to do. Anyway, I want you to work for me for a while. The reward is this dress and this opportunity to learn."

"."

Wang Anyi thought for a while before saying, "It's okay for me to do it for you, but will the writing class allow you to do this?"

"Why not allowed?"

Jiang Xian said as if it was a matter of course, "For a project, Party A subcontracts to Party B, and Party B subcontracts to a third party. This is called subcontracting, and it is a very common thing in capitalist society."

"???"

The next day, early in the morning.

After washing up, Ru Zhijuan said hello to Jiang's mother and Zhu's mother and prepared to attend today's English class. She has been studying English in the class during this period.

"Teacher Ru, did you rest well yesterday?"

"much better."

Ru Zhijuan said, "I was not used to living in that apartment before. It was stuffy and hot. Most importantly, it was noisy. In the middle of the night, there were always students driving downstairs and talking. An Yi said that in the United States, you must learn an English curse word: fuck."

"Ha ha ha ha."

At the same time, outside the gate of the villa, a white man was walking around.

"Too strange."

“This looks like a private residence.”

"Why does this writer live here?"

Ru Zhijuan, who had just gone out, immediately noticed this person.

She remembered what Nie Hualing had said before: single-family villas pose security risks because they have no property management.

"Who are you?" Ru Zhijuan asked in broken English.

"Hi, I want to look for Jiang Xian, does he live here?" the white man asked, and then he took out his business card and introduced himself: "My name is Hamilton, from the University of Iowa Press."

"Looking for Jiang Xian?"

Ru Zhijuan entered the house, and soon Jiang Xian came out and glanced at her.

"Ms. Nie Hualing introduced you, right?"

"Yes, Ms. Nie Hualing said you have an excellent manuscript." Hamilton said.

"Please come in."

Jiang Xian invited Hamilton into the house and poured him a cup of coffee.

He asked Nie Hualing to introduce him to a publishing house, which led to the University of Iowa Press coming to him.

Because he was reluctant to give the manuscript of "Drifter" to HarperCollins Publishing Group.

After all, countless predecessors in the literary world have summed up a truth, that is, writing must have a trumpet.

String means trumpet to Jiang Xian.

So he didn't want to expose himself easily unless it was necessary.

"Is this house yours?" Hamilton asked.

"As far as I know, most of the writers of the International Writing Project live at the Mayflower."

"We just moved in a while ago." Jiang Xian said.

"For a Chinese writer, it is not easy to buy a house in the United States, especially a house like this," said Hamilton.

"I'm luckier."

Jiang Xian smiled and didn't explain too much about this matter.

"If I submit my novel to your publishing house, what royalty rate will you offer me?"

"About 2%-5%. It depends on the quality of your novel. We will give you a plan after reading it."

"It's too low." Jiang Xian said bluntly.

"I know."

Hamilton smiled and said, "Maybe you are famous in your country, but your fame has not been verified in the United States. We can't take such a risk."

"You are not sincere, Mr. Hamilton."

Jiang Xian said, "Under the royalty system, authors and publishers share the risk."

“That’s a risk, isn’t it?” Hamilton said with a smile. “Perhaps you could let me take a look at your manuscript first.”

"of course can."

Jiang Xian took out a manuscript and handed it to Hamilton.

Hamilton glanced at the top row.

"Drifter?"

This is the title of this novel.

He was about to continue looking down when he suddenly heard a shout.

"River!"

"River!"

Hearing the shouting outside the house, Jiang Xian pushed the door open and saw Fei'er.

"Mayfair?"

Hamilton also followed Jiang Xian out, and saw the man named Fei'er rushing towards Jiang Xian with a stack of manuscripts in his arms, and excitedly grabbed his hands.

"River!"

"I don't know how to describe how I feel."

"Master! You are the real master!"

Fei'er raised her hands high and kowtowed three times to Jiang Xian as if she were a pilgrim.

He was really conquered by the novel "The Drifter".

How could someone design a novel so ingeniously?
When Fei'er got this novel, he was unconvinced at first, but then he was attracted by "The Drifter". After reading it in one breath, Fei'er was amazed.

Shocked!

As a fellow writer, Fei'er can't help but look up to Jiang Xian.

He admired his powerful writing skills and ingenious ideas.

Especially after reading this novel for the third time, Fei'er was shocked to find that every time she read it, she gained new insights.

This is a novel!
This is literature!
In the face of such works, what qualifications does he have to talk about creation?
So he appeared here, worshiping the master in his mind with a posture of worship.

"Great Jiang!"

"Great Drifter!"

“Great Chinese literature!”

At this moment, let alone Jiang Xian, even Hamilton was a little confused when watching this scene.

Hamilton looked at Fei'er's exaggerated actions and words, and was especially stunned when he heard Fei'er mention the word "drifter".

How could a novel make one person admire another to such an extent?
"What are you doing?"

“Are you guys performing?”

(End of this chapter)