莫言獲獎演講英文版

　　the process of creation is unique to every writer. each of my novels differs from the others in terms of plot and guiding inspiration. some, such as "the transparent carrot," were born in dreams, while others, like the garlic ballads have their origin in actual events. whether the source of a work is a dream or real life, only if it is integrated with individual experience can it be imbued with individuality, be populated with typical characters molded by lively detail, employ richly evocative language, and boast a well crafted structure. here i must point out that in the garlic ballads i introduced a real-life storyteller and singer in one of the novel's most important roles. i wish i hadn't used his real name, though his words and actions were made up. this is a recurring phenomenon with me. i'll start out using characters' real names in order to achieve a sense of intimacy, and after the work is finished, it will seem too late to change those names. this has led to people who see their names in my novels going to my father to vent their displeasure. he always apologizes in my place, but then urges them not to take such things so seriously. he'll say: "the first sentence in red sorghum, 'my father, a bandit's offspring,' didn't upset me, so why should you be unhappy?" my greatest challenges come with writing novels that deal with social realities, such as the garlic ballads, not because i'm afraid of being openly critical of the darker aspects of society, but because heated emotions and anger allow politics to suppress literature and transform a novel into reportage of a social event. as a member of society, a novelist is entitled to his own stance and viewpoint; but when he is writing he must take a humanistic stance, and write accordingly. only then can literature not just originate in events, but transcend them, not just show concern for politics but be greater than politics.

　　possibly because i've lived so much of my life in difficult circumstances, i think i have a more profound understanding of life. i know what real courage is, and i understand true compassion. i know that nebulous terrain exists in the hearts and minds of every person, terrain that cannot be adequately characterized in simple terms of right and wrong or good and bad, and this vast territory is where a writer gives free rein to his talent. so long as the work correctly and vividly describes this nebulous, massively contradictory terrain, it will inevitably transcend politics and be endowed with literary excellence. prattling on and on about my own work must be annoying, but my life and works are inextricably linked, so if i don't talk about my work, i don't know what else to say. i hope you are in a forgiving mood. i was a modern-day storyteller who hid in the background of his early work; but with the novel sandalwood death i jumped out of the shadows. my early work can be characterized as a series of soliloquies, with no reader in mind; starting with this novel, however, i visualized myself standing in a public square spiritedly telling my story to a crowd of listeners. this tradition is a worldwide phenomenon in fiction, but is especially so in china. at one time, i was a diligent student of western modernist fiction, and i experimented with all sorts of narrative styles. but in the end i came back to my traditions. to be sure, this return was not without its modifications. sandalwood death and the novels that followed are inheritors of the chinese classical novel tradition but enhanced by western literary techniques. what is known as innovative fiction is, for the most part, a result of this mixture, which is not limited to domestic traditions with foreign techniques, but can include mixing fiction with art from other realms. sandalwood death, for instance, mixes fiction with local opera, while some of my early work was partly nurtured by fine art, music, even acrobatics.