A beautiful novel indeed! Ha Jin's Waiting has truly made a profound impression on me. The opening lines are captivating: "Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. Together they had appeared at the courthouse in Wujia Town many times, but she had always changed her mind at the last moment when the judge asked if she would accept a divorce. Year after year, they went to Wujia Town and came back with the same marriage license issued to them by the county's registry office twenty years before."
Contrary to the opinions of many readers, this work didn't strike me as a typical love story. Instead, it felt more like a tale of profound suffering and a man's arduous journey in search of inner peace. Lin Kong's repeated attempts to divorce Shuyu and the emotional turmoil that ensued painted a vivid picture of the complex web of relationships and the sacrifices one has to make. The story delved deep into the human psyche, exploring themes such as duty, obligation, and the pursuit of personal happiness. It made me reflect on the choices we make in life and the consequences that follow. Waiting is not just a novel; it is a thought-provoking exploration of the human condition.
Ha Jin masterfully crafts immediate tension right from the opening line of the novel: “Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu” (3). The story revolves around Lin Kong, a city doctor during China’s tumultuous cultural revolution, as he tirelessly endeavors to obtain a divorce from his country wife in court.
The first time I read the scenes, my only hope was to witness Lin Kong finally succeed in getting a divorce and be united with his true love, Manna Wu. However, upon a second reading and in retrospect, I’ve come to realize how Ha Jin artfully sets us up for this union of the seemingly hopeless lovers, only to lead us to anticlimactic revelations throughout the narrative. For instance, the wedding and sex scenes are among the most melancholy I’ve ever come across. Meanwhile, the in-between moments within the novel’s major, anticipated events pulsate with intensity, word by word.
Ha Jin’s narrative trajectories towards these anticlimaxes are truly worthy of multiple readings. The tension is predominantly created through narrative irony, which, in the context of this book, more than anything else, reflects the immeasurable tragedies of life and the way such events are only perceived as tragic in hindsight. It is an eloquent, wisdom-infused novel that is bound to make you look up from the page and into the air, with your mindset forever altered.
“The moment before fulfilment is better than fulfilment itself.” This statement holds true in many aspects of life. The period of waiting can often be more exciting and充满期待 than the actual moment when what one has been looking forward to becomes a reality. Consider the case of waiting for eighteen years for a woman, without any intimate contact, because one's wife refuses to divorce. Only to realize in the end that the second marriage is also not what one expected and that infatuation has been confused with love. This is, in essence, what this book is about. But it is more than that. It also provides a glimpse into life in post-1970s China. It was a conservative and puritanical society where the contact between a man and a woman who were not married to each other was subject to very strict rules, and intimate contact was almost impossible. It is a good and human story about regret that always comes too late. I had to take some time to get used to the Eastern style of writing at the beginning.