On July 28, 1976, a major
earthquake hits the Tangshan region of Hebei Province, China. Among the victims
is a family of Wan and Li Yuanni and their children – Xiaodeng (daughter) and
Xiaoda (son). When the children are trapped under a fallen structure, Li Yuanni
is faced with life-death-dilemma, and has to choose to save between her twin
children. Xiaoda is rescued, who would lose one of his arms, while Xiaodeng,
left under the rubble and thought to be dead, survives it, but would lose
memory due to brain injury. Wan also dies in the event, away from his home. Over
a dawn, the life of one of the happiest families in the neighborhood is changed
forever.
Aftershocks instilling fear among
those who survived in the Tangshan earthquake subsides, but the trauma and
tragedy left in the wake of the earthquake would haunt Li Yuanni's family for the
rest of their lives. Aftershock is a story spanning around 30 years – from 1968
to 2006, and across continents, from China to Canada – that connects Li
Yuanni's family, separated by the earthquake.
1976 is not only the year of the
Tangshan earthquake, but also the year Mao Zedong had died, who'd led the Cultural
Revolution in China. In Aftershock, Zhang Ling also offers us a closer look at
the families and communities, around the end of the revolution; though the
novel doesn't tend to be political. What we find at the heart of this chronicle
is a family, disrupted by the earthquake and its aftermath. The tenderness with
which Ling has developed her characters, their beliefs, flaws, hope and pain
carries a sentiment that shapes a family history – a chronicle of trauma.
The
trees had lived for many years. It had seen the stable boy of Emperor Kangxi
watering the horses in this yard, and it had heard the young, reckless Boxers
drinking and plotting a rebellion on the street corner. It had witnessed the
dirty underbellies of Japanese planes as they hovered overhead, dropping their
black waster over the land. The tree had seen all the ups and downs for
countless years, witnessing both the thrill and the desolation of dynastic
change.
After Xiaodeng is taken by her
adoptive parents, her life takes a distinct arc. Thirty years after being separated
from her twin brother and mother, with her memory cut off from the day of the
earthquake, she now lives in Toronto, Canada and is an author. Unable to open the
window in her dream, that would
enable her to see her past life, Xiaodeng still bears the pain of her head
concussion and grapples with emotional trauma, anxiety and insomnia,
interfering with her new life. At the other end of the world in Tangshan,
China, Li Yuanni lives in the memory of her dead husband, and thought-to-be
dead daughter, unwilling to relocate with Xiaoda, who earns a good life. Alternating
between the past and present, covering three decades of a family separation,
Ling places the two developments – Xiaodeng's world and Li Yuanni's world – side
by side, each with their own difficulties. For a while, it seems that, the two
worlds can never connect. However, a thread – stretched by love at one end and
by lifelong discomfort at the other – find its purpose.
The
mysteries of life and death that took a lifetime to unravel in normal times
were revealed in a single prod when there was a natural disaster.
Despair?
It’s like a man who is buried under the ruins, and he sees a sliver of sky
through a gap. The hope of survival is so close, he can almost touch it with a
finger. The distance between his finger and the sky, that's life and death.
Hope is so near, but he just can't catch it. What kind of despair is that?
Zhang Ling is already an
established and crafted novelist, and her prowess of storytelling justifies any
subject. In Aftershock, Ling doesn't take a huge leap and explain things from
outside, reclining solely on the cause and effect of the earthquake. Rather,
her take has been to bring the story as close to the individuals/characters and
their lives as possible. We realize, how important is one's family and how
grave is the loss. In this sense, the novel explores human relations and its
strength, strain, conflicts and grief. It is also a glimpse into Chinese family
life showing how lives of those who suffered and witnessed the earthquake was/became
different from the rest.
Ling is adept at transforming
little details into impressive metaphors and similes: words that smash holes in
the ground; laughter that pokes holes in the thick heat; shadow like quilts
with no seam; snore as loud as rolling thunders. She has profound sense of where there is gravity
and depth, and what needs to be said. Ling Otherwise, one wouldn't be able to
love the characters. But in Aftershock, we know them, as if personally, and
understand them, open to their vulnerabilities, and their palpable empathy.
Ling's narrative has access to both the inner and outer world of her
characters, and it is only by dealing with their complexities and conflicts
that we come to understand them; even through moments of simplicity, smile and
tears.
When
new branches sprang up on the oleander in front of the doors, she knew it was
once again a new spring. When the geese flew southward in a line overhead, she
knew summer was coming to an end. When the store windows in the street began
displaying red-packaged goods and the sound of firecrackers rang out in the
air, she knew another year was ending.
Ling's detailings are vivid and
she has employed playful transitions to navigate through. Like I said earlier,
a family is at the heart of the story, but there is another core too – human
emotions. Ling has tended to them as a mother would to her baby, and I believe
this novel must be very close to her. 1968,
1976, 2006 and all the years in between, which Ling has used as timestamps, to
form her characters, to deal with their fate and complexities, coming towards
the end, all fit as jigsaw pieces, finally bringing the denouement.
Through fine combing of the details and smooth characterizations, Ling creates love for the characters. Readers will find themselves smiling at natural details, for their ease, and for perfect unfolding and pauses. The characters in Aftershock are very delicate – but we all are that way, someway – clinging to some hope, seeking some solace and love. Such portrayal has made them more believable. To conclude, Aftershock connects not only pieces of a tragic event of history, but also makes them unforgettable by bringing forth human emotions, that suffer, endure, hope and wait to make peace with life. Ling guides us to the wetlands of living, shows us around and brings us safe back home – we come out different.
Author: Zhang LingOriginal Text: Chinese
Translator: Shelly Bryant
Publisher: Amazon Publishing