Explore Chapter 1 of '呐喊' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Two brothers, whose names I shall withhold, were close friends of mine during our high school years. After we parted ways, contact between us gradually ceased. I recently happened to hear that one of them had fallen gravely ill. On my way back to my hometown, I made a detour to visit them. I met only one, who informed me that the sick person was his younger brother. "You've troubled yourself to come so far to see him," he said, "but he has long since recovered and gone to another district to await an official appointment." He then laughed, produced two volumes of a diary, and said they might offer a glimpse of his condition during his illness, and that he saw no harm in showing them to an old friend. I took them home and read them through. I realized the illness was a form of what is termed "persecution mania." The language is often incoherent and nonsensical, with no dates recorded; the ink and handwriting vary, indicating the entries were not written at one time. Yet some passages show a rough continuity. I have excerpted one section here for medical study. Not a single word of the diary has been altered, except that the names of the villagers, being unknown to the world and of no great import, have all been changed. As for the title, it was chosen by the diarist himself after his recovery, and I have left it unchanged. Written on the second of April, 1918.
Tonight, the moonlight is splendid. I had not seen him for over thirty years; today seeing him again, my spirits are unusually buoyant. Only now do I realize that for the past thirty-odd years, I have been living in a daze. Yet I must be exceedingly careful. Otherwise, why would the Zhaos' dog have looked at me twice? I have good reason to be afraid.
There is no moonlight at all today. I know this bodes ill. As I left home cautiously this morning, Old Master Zhao gave me a strange look-as if afraid of me, as if meaning to harm me. Seven or eight others were whispering together about me, fearful I might see them. Everyone I passed on the street was the same. The fiercest among them bared his teeth in a grin at me. A chill ran from my crown to my heels. I knew their preparations were complete. But I am not afraid. I continued on my way. A group of children up ahead were also discussing me. The look in their eyes was just like Old Master Zhao’s, and their faces were ghastly pale. What grudge could children have against me to act this way? I could not help shouting, "Tell me!" They ran off. I thought: What grudge do I have with Old Master Zhao, what grudge with the people on the street? The only thing is that twenty years ago, I trod on Mr. Ancient’s age-old ledger, and Mr. Ancient was most displeased. Though Old Master Zhao does not know him, he must have heard of it and taken up the grievance, conspiring with the people on the street against me. But the children? They were not even born then, so why did they stare at me today with those strange eyes, as if afraid, as if meaning to harm me? This truly frightens me. It baffles and saddens me. I understand now. Their mothers and fathers taught them!
At night I always find it hard to sleep. Everything must be studied before one can understand. These people-some have been pilloried by the county magistrate, some slapped by local gentry, some had their wives seized by bailiffs, some had parents driven to death by creditors-yet the expressions they wore then were never as fearful or as vicious as yesterday’s. Most strange was that woman on the street yesterday beating her son, saying, "Damn you! I’ll bite a few mouthfuls out of you to vent my rage!" Yet her eyes were fixed on me. I started, unable to conceal my fright. Then that gang of blue-faced, long-fanged monsters burst into laughter. Old Chen the Fifth rushed forward and dragged me roughly home. Once home, everyone pretended not to know me. Their looks were just like all the others'. He bolted the study door from the outside as if penning up a chicken or a duck. This incident only deepens the mystery. A few days ago, a tenant from Wolf Cub Village came to report the famine. He told my elder brother that a great villain in their village had been beaten to death by the crowd. Several people then dug out his heart and liver, fried them in oil, and ate them to bolster their courage. When I interjected, both the tenant and my elder brother shot me glances. Only today did I realize their glances were exactly like those of that gang outside. Thinking of it, a chill runs from my crown to my heels. If they can eat men, they might well eat me. Look at that woman’s words, "bite a few mouthfuls," and the laughter of that gang of blue-faced, long-fanged monsters, and the tenant’s words the other day-they are clearly secret signals. I see their words are full of poison, their laughter full of blades. Their teeth are all there, white and glistening in rows: the tools for eating men. By my own reckoning, though I am no villain, ever since I trod on Mr. Ancient’s ledger, it is hard to say. They seem to harbor intentions I cannot fathom. Moreover, if they turn against you, they will brand you a villain. I remember my elder brother teaching me to write essays. No matter how good a man was, if you twisted his words a little, my brother would circle your sentence approvingly. If you excused a bad man, he would say, "Marvelous skill, truly exceptional." How could I ever guess their true thoughts, especially when it comes to eating men? Everything must be studied before one can understand. I recall that since ancient times, men have often eaten each other, though my memory is hazy. I opened a history book to check. This history has no dates. Scrawled across each page are the words "benevolence, righteousness, and morality." Since I could not sleep, I read carefully for half the night. Finally, I saw the words written between the lines. The whole book was filled with two words-"Eat men"! All these words are written in the book. The tenant said all those things. Yet they all smile and stare at me with those strange eyes. I am a man too. They want to eat me!
In the morning, I sat quietly for a time. Old Chen the Fifth brought in a meal: a bowl of vegetables, a bowl of steamed fish. The fish’s eyes were white and hard, its mouth agape, just like those people who want to eat men. After a few chopstickfuls, the slippery morsels-whether fish or human flesh-I could not tell. I vomited it all up. I said, "Old Chen, tell my elder brother I feel stifled and wish to walk in the garden." Old Chen made no reply and left. After a while, he returned and opened the door. I did not move, studying how they would deal with me. I knew they would not relent. Sure enough! My elder brother led an old man in slowly. The old man’s eyes gleamed with malice. Afraid I might see, he kept his head bowed, stealing glances at me from the corner of his spectacles. My brother said, "You seem quite well today." I replied, "Yes." He said, "I have invited Dr. He to examine you." I said, "Very well!" In truth, how could I not know this old man was an executioner in disguise! He was merely using the pretext of feeling my pulse to gauge my plumpness; for this service, he would claim a share of the flesh. I am not afraid. Though I do not eat men, my courage is greater than theirs. I thrust out my fists, waiting to see how he would make his move. The old man sat down, closed his eyes, felt my pulse for a good while, then remained still. He opened his fiendish eyes and said, "Do not let your thoughts run wild. Rest quietly for a few days, and you will be well." Do not let your thoughts run wild! Rest quietly! Fattened up, they can naturally eat more of me. What good would that do me? How would I "be well"? These people, wanting to eat men yet so furtive, devising ways to conceal it, not daring to act directly-it’s enough to make me die laughing. I could not help it. I burst into loud laughter, utterly delighted. I knew this laughter was filled with righteous courage and integrity. Both the old man and my brother turned pale, cowed by my courage and integrity. But because I have courage, they want to eat me all the more, to partake of this courage. The old man stepped out. Not far off, he whispered to my brother, "Eat him at once!" My brother nodded. So you are in it too! This great discovery, though seemingly unexpected, was also within expectations. The partner in eating me is my own elder brother! The man who eats men is my elder brother! I am the brother of a man-eater! I myself will be eaten, yet I remain the brother of a man-eater!
These past few days I have taken a step back in my thinking. Suppose the old man were not an executioner in disguise but a genuine doctor. He would still be a man-eater. In the Compendium of Materia Medica by their patriarch Li Shizhen, it is plainly written that human flesh can be boiled and eaten. How can he claim he does not eat men? As for my elder brother, I have not wronged him in the least. When he tutored me from the classics, he himself spoke of "exchanging children to eat." On another occasion, discussing a wicked man, he said the man not only deserved death but should be made an example by "eating his flesh and sleeping on his hide." I was young then, and my heart pounded for a long while. The other day when the tenant from Wolf Cub Village spoke of eating the heart and liver, he showed no surprise, merely nodding repeatedly. Clearly, his mind is as cruel as ever. Since one can "exchange children to eat," anything is easily obtained, and anyone can be eaten. In the past, I merely listened to his lectures and muddled along. Now I know that when he lectures, not only is there human grease smeared at the corners of his lips, but his heart is brimming with the intent to eat men.
I know their method. They would not, and dare not, kill me outright for fear of retribution. So they have all banded together, spreading their net, to force me to kill myself. Consider the behavior of the men and women on the street a few days ago and my elder brother’s actions these past days, and you can grasp eighty or ninety percent of it. The best way is to untie my belt, hang it from a beam, and strangle myself. Then they would bear no guilt for murder, yet their wish would be fulfilled. Naturally, they would rejoice and emit a whining, sniveling laughter. Otherwise, if I died of fright and worry, though somewhat thinner, they would still nod approval. They only eat dead meat!-I recall reading of a creature called the "hyena," with hideous eyes and appearance. It often feeds on carrion, chewing even the largest bones to pulp and swallowing them. The thought is terrifying. The "hyena" is kin to the wolf, and the wolf is cousin to the dog. The other day, the Zhaos' dog looked at me several times. Clearly, he is in the plot too, already approached. The old man keeps his eyes on the ground-how can he deceive me? Most pitiable is my elder brother. He is a man too. Why is he not the least afraid? Why does he conspire to eat me? Is it because he is accustomed to it, seeing no wrong? Or has he lost his conscience and acts knowingly? I curse all man-eaters, beginning with him. To persuade man-eaters to reform, I must start with him.
Actually, by now they should have long understood this truth… Suddenly a man appeared. He was not much past twenty. His features were unclear, but his face was wreathed in smiles. He nodded at me. His smile did not seem genuine. I asked him, "Is it right to eat men?" Still smiling, he said, "Without a famine year, how could people eat each other?" I knew at once he was one of them, a man who likes eating men. My courage soared a hundredfold. I pressed him. "Is it right?" "Why ask about such things? You really know how to… joke… Today the weather is fine." The weather is fine, the moonlight bright. But I must ask you, "Is it right?" He grew displeased. Mumbling, he replied, "No…" "Not right? How can they simply eat men?!" "Nothing of the sort…" "Nothing of the sort? In Wolf Cub Village, they are eating men now. And it’s written in books, fresh and crimson!" His face changed, turning ashen grey. Staring, he said, "Perhaps such things exist. It has always been so…" "Since it has always been so, is it right?" "I won’t discuss this with you. In any case, you should not speak of it. To speak of it is wrong!" I leapt up, eyes wide open, and the man vanished. I was drenched in sweat. He was far younger than my elder brother, yet he was one of them too. This must have been taught him first by his mother and father. I fear they have already taught his son; that is why even the children glare at me so fiercely.
They themselves want to eat men, yet fear being eaten by others. All eye each other with deepest suspicion… Could they but shed this thought, they could go about their business, walk, eat, and sleep in perfect comfort. It is but a threshold, a single barrier. Yet they-fathers and sons, brothers and spouses, friends and teachers, enemies and strangers-have all leagued together, urging and restraining each other, refusing to cross this line even unto death.
Early in the morning, I went to seek my elder brother. He stood outside the hall door gazing at the sky. I walked up behind him, blocking the doorway. With exceptional calm and gentleness, I said, "Elder Brother, I have something to tell you." "Speak," he said, turning quickly with a nod. "I have but few words, yet they are hard to utter. Elder Brother, in the beginning, perhaps all savage men ate a little human flesh. Later, as minds changed, some ceased eating men and strove to be good. They became human, true human beings. Others still eat-just as among creatures, some changed into fish, birds, monkeys, finally men. Some, who did not strive to be good, remain creatures to this day. How ashamed are those who eat men compared to those who do not! Far more ashamed than creatures are of monkeys. Yi Ya steamed his son for Jie and Zhou to eat-that is a tale from antiquity. Who knows how many have been eaten since Pangu parted heaven and earth, down to Yi Ya’s son; from Yi Ya’s son to Xu Xilin; from Xu Xilin to the man captured in Wolf Cub Village. Last year, when a criminal was executed in the city, a consumptive dipped a steamed bun in his blood and sucked it. They want to eat me. Alone, you can do nothing. But why must you join them? Man-eaters are capable of anything. They can eat me, they can eat you. Even among themselves, they may eat each other. But if they would but change, change at once, then all could know peace. Though it has always been so, today we can be exceptionally good. Do not say it is impossible! Elder Brother, I believe you can say it. The other day when the tenant sought rent reduction, you said it was impossible." At first, he only smiled coldly. Then a ferocious gleam lit his eyes. When I laid bare their secret, his whole face turned ghastly pale. A crowd stood outside the main gate. Old Master Zhao and his dog were among them, all craning to peer in. Some had faces obscured, as if veiled; others still wore blue faces and long fangs, grinning with pursed lips. I knew them for a gang, all man-eaters. Yet I also knew their thoughts differed. Some believed it had always been so and should be done. Others knew they should not eat men but still did, and feared exposure. Hearing my words, they grew even more furious, yet pursed their lips in cold smiles. Then my elder brother suddenly turned ferocious. He shouted, "Out, all of you! What is there to see in a madman!" Then I understood another of their cunning tricks. Not only are they unwilling to change, they have long laid plans. They have prepared the label 'madman' to fasten upon me. In the future, when I am eaten, not only will there be no trouble, but some may even be grateful. What the tenant said about all eating a villain-that is their method. This is their old game! Old Chen the Fifth rushed in furiously. How could they silence me? I was determined to tell this gang, "You must change, and the change must come from your very hearts! Know that in the future there will be no place for man-eaters in this world. If you do not change, you will be eaten yourselves. Even if you multiply, you will be wiped out by true men, as hunters finish off wolves-as creatures are!" That gang was all driven away by Old Chen the Fifth. My elder brother vanished too. Old Chen urged me back to my room. The room was utterly dark. The beams and rafters shook above my head. After shaking awhile, they swelled and piled upon me. The weight was immense. I could not move. His intent was to kill me. I knew the weight was illusory. I struggled free, drenched in sweat. But I must say, "Change at once, change from your very hearts! Know that in the future there will be no place for man-eaters!…"
The sun does not shine, the door does not open. Each day, two meals. Whenever I pick up my chopsticks, I think of my elder brother. I know my younger sister’s death was entirely his doing. My sister was but five then. Her lovely, pitiable form is still before my eyes. Mother wept unceasingly, but he urged her not to weep. Likely because he had eaten her himself, weeping would have stirred guilt. If he could still feel guilt… My sister was eaten by my elder brother. Whether Mother knew, I cannot tell. I think Mother must have known. Yet when she wept, she did not say so. Probably she too thought it fitting. I recall when I was four or five, sitting in the hall to cool off. My elder brother said if parents fell ill, a son should cut a slice of his own flesh, boil it, and offer it to them to be considered a good son. Mother did not say it was wrong. If a slice can be eaten, the whole can naturally be eaten. But the way she wept that day, when I think of it now, still breaks my heart. It is truly a most strange thing!
I cannot think on it further. For four thousand years, this place where men have eaten each other through all time. Only today do I see that I too have muddled along in it for years. My elder brother manages household affairs. My sister happened to die. It is likely he mixed her into our food, feeding her to us in secret. It is likely I, unwitting, ate several slices of my sister’s flesh. And now it is my turn… I, with a history of four thousand years of man-eating, though I knew it not at first, now that I see, how can I face true men? Are there still children who have not eaten men? Save the children…