The
Loyalty of the Frontier
--
After Reading the Novel ""The Missing Gun""
By
WANG ANYI
Title:
The Missing Gun
Author: Lu Chuan
Publisher: Xiandai Publishing House
Pages: 341
Price: 23.00 yuan
"The Missing Gun" is a short story
by another author, and director Lu Chuan adapted it to a film,
the scenario of which he later expanded into a 100,000-character
novel. This process poses the questions, what inspiration did
Lu Chuan derive from the original story? Which aspect did he
choose to amplify in his own novel? And by what literary means
did he achieve such amplification? The answers to these questions
should reveal his subjective angle, and his technical approach
to the imaginary configuration of life depicted in this work.
Since I have not read the original story, nor seen the film,
my comments are entirely based on Mr. Lu's novel, "The
Missing Gun".
Lu Chuan is not the best of narrators. I can
almost visualize his labored expression as he tried to fuse
one branch of the plot smoothly into another. It may be that
as a filmmaker accustomed to expressing himself by means of
a camera lens, words are too abstract and slippery a medium
to negotiate. Lack of experience could be another problem. As
a young man who grew up in an ivory tower-type environment of
good schools, plentiful books, in a big city of political significance,
he is unlikely to have any concept of life in a frontier area,
which makes clarity of narration difficult. The latter problem
seems to me more indomitable than the former. Lu's constant
switches from fantasy to reality and back again, and between
the subjective and the objective, could well stem from his lack
of familiarity with this subject matter. In dealing with such
an unknown quantity as frontier life, his best course is, therefore,
to use his imagination.
All this apart, "The Missing Gun"
is nevertheless a good story. The main thread of the plot from
which the chain of events emanates is as ingenuous as the title
suggests -- that of looking for a missing gun. But lack of sophistication
does not necessarily infer lack of subtlety or critical insight.
It rather indicates the style of the work -- clear and succinct,
which acts as a perfect foil for the depth and color of its
content.
In an ancient town in mountainous southwest
China, the practical utility of a gun allocated for use in the
line of duty is far outweighed by what it actually signifies
-- powerful enforcement of the state apparatus. On the basis
of this logic, its loss implies a threat to state security,
albeit hypothetical rather than actual. The consequences of
this loss are nonetheless utterly realistic and believable.
Policeman Ma Shan will receive a sentence of "no more than
three years imprisonment or detention," as well as a series
of associated punishments meted out to his entire unit: his
police station stands to lose all bonuses, and to be stripped
of its honorary title. Even his upper echelons will be affected.
As the search for the missing gun is enacted, an unreal space
between abstract causes and concrete consequences emerges, the
result being a metamorphosis into the comically surreal. This
does not, however, affect the underlying seriousness of the
plot, nor minimize the heroism it portrays, as a humble nonentity
suddenly becomes a hero. By the same token, this heroism does
not in anyway detract from the work's humor, but enhances its
"theater of the absurd" style. Their coexistence constitutes
the work's wellspring of cerebral inspiration based on solid
reality.
This is the first positive aspect of the novel,
the configuration of its story. The second, whereby the core
is fleshed out is even more difficult to achieve. It is the
account of finding the gun, and making the search for it a process
intriguing enough to capture and sustain the reader's attention.
This requires great imagination, but based on reason. It is
accomplished by a proliferation of plots, all quite feasible.
Ma Shan loses his gun at his sister's wedding, while drunk to
the point of collapse. Such a situation opens up all sorts of
possibilities and brings in compelling revelations by various
characters about their inter-relationships.
As Ma Shan staggers round in this lost part
of his memory, several sub-plots branch out, making his mission
more complex. This is where imagination and fantasy begin to
take hold, and plots rapidly but logically mushroom, although
their connecting thread is barely perceptible. Details, however,
compensate for this. In "The Missing Gun", apparently
superficial and casual details woven into its plot and various
sub-plots reflect accurately the vast distance, actual and metaphysical,
between the frontier where the gun is lost and the center of
the country. For instance, when Ma Shan finally reports the
loss of his gun, his boss asks him how long ago this occurred.
The answer is 20 hours. "Twenty hours," the boss exclaims.
"That is time long enough to travel to the provincial capital
by bus, to Beijing by train, and to the United States by air."
His observations bring this out-of-way mountainous region closer
to the outside world for Ma Shan, and conjur up for him a nightmarish
vision of a shoot-out in Tian'anmen Square. In another episode,
Ma Shan decides to act, and goes to take a last look at his
wife, and his son, who is reading the text: "My motherland
has vast territory, in which there are many high buildings......"
Vast territory, high buildings, these abstract terms now sound
sacred to Ma Shan at the moment he has decided to sacrifice
himself. Another detail soon emerges with the potential to develop
into a plot in its own right -- that of the No. 834896 Factory.
This is a factory that was established at
a time when China was preparing itself for the possibility of
war, and withdrew its important industrial facilities to less
vulnerable areas in the interior. When the situation relaxed,
the factory moved back to its original location, leaving behind
a deserted industrial site. Formerly a military rear base, the
place had bustled with people and activity, but after the cold
war, returned to its former remote desolation. This site not
only provides a vehicle for detailed description, but also support
for the sub-plot. It helps create an unexpected episode during
the search for the missing gun that leaves the reader with a
riddle. More importantly, it provides a sound motive for the
gun thief, and a clue as to the whereabouts of the weapon.
The last positive aspect is the novel's ending.
The more complex and detailed the plot, the more difficult it
is to bring it to an appropriate conclusion. Ma Shan looks for
clues in his memory that have been obscured by excess alcohol.
Certain things remain dark and others light up; one step forward
is followed by two back, leading what appears to be a development
nowhere. The truth, however, gradually emerges. All of this
provides suitable conditions for Ma Shan's ultimate resort to
the extreme, which resembles something out of a Hollywood production,
but for which I could offer no better suggestion. I have to
admit that Hollywood is very resourceful and technically accomplished.
It can corner a person into a position where escape is seemingly
impossible one moment, and then suddenly lift him out of it
the next. Ma Shan's extreme act is like this. His situation
pushes him so close to the edge, as elevate him from mediocrity
to heroism.
These positive aspects validate Lu Chuan's
novel, despite its flaws, and reflect his skill as an imaginator