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The Yeren

The Yeren A L A I As I followed the blue line on the map, tracing the curving Dadu River upstream to its source in the mountains, I could already feel a light breeze blowing gently out of the shadows of the high peaks. I had the sense that my journey had already begun--that I had taken the first step on my way. I could see myself passing between the mountains' huge shadows and the sunlight's brilliant beauty. I saw myself encountering the greatest variety of people, with different types of clothing, skin coloring, accents, and even different temperaments. In response to all of this, a lofty sentiment arose in my heart--that I was throwing myself spontaneously into life, into the vast world, into art. And I felt that surely this was a serious thing I was doing. This journey, as well as this story, begins at Luding, where I had been attending a meeting of the writers' group p e n International. When the meeting ended, my literary friends boarded the bus back to Chengdu, but I decided to head in another direction, taking the kind of solitary trip that I was used to. In the station, the smell http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

The Yeren

Manoa , Volume 13 (2) – Oct 1, 2001

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2001 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x
Publisher site
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Abstract

A L A I As I followed the blue line on the map, tracing the curving Dadu River upstream to its source in the mountains, I could already feel a light breeze blowing gently out of the shadows of the high peaks. I had the sense that my journey had already begun--that I had taken the first step on my way. I could see myself passing between the mountains' huge shadows and the sunlight's brilliant beauty. I saw myself encountering the greatest variety of people, with different types of clothing, skin coloring, accents, and even different temperaments. In response to all of this, a lofty sentiment arose in my heart--that I was throwing myself spontaneously into life, into the vast world, into art. And I felt that surely this was a serious thing I was doing. This journey, as well as this story, begins at Luding, where I had been attending a meeting of the writers' group p e n International. When the meeting ended, my literary friends boarded the bus back to Chengdu, but I decided to head in another direction, taking the kind of solitary trip that I was used to. In the station, the smell

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Oct 1, 2001

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