Lost in Translation Page 0,134
Lu and Huimin Lu in Yinchuan.
"You really don’t have to do this," Spencer repeated, peering over her shoulder at the small paper she held with its lines of Chinese and Mongolian writing.
"We’ve come all this way. Let’s just put this thing to rest."
"I’ve already put it to rest," he reminded her. "I’m on to something else."
She faced east, down the clattery cobbled side street. "Should be this way."
He followed her, sidestepping a red-cheeked Mongol girl with a toddler and an impossibly large cloth bundle, and then a group of white-capped Muslim men hurrying, laughing, up the alley the opposite way.
"And I am going to pay you," he said. "When I get my NSF grant for the monkey sun god project, I’ll send you the money."
"I don’t care about it," she said.
"You going to stay in America awhile?"
"Awhile, yes. Then after that—I’m not sure where I’m going to end up, but I think it’s time to settle down somewhere. Stop traveling all the time."
"Aha." He looked at her, smiling.
"We’re here," she said softly. She had come to an abrupt stop and was gazing into a dark store-window, checking and rechecking the ancient number scratched into the stone. The door, secured with a rusted padlock, appeared not to have been opened for many years. Above their heads a hanging wooden sign creaked faintly. On it were carved age-darkened Chinese characters.
"This is it? You’re sure?"
She nodded.
"But what kind of place was it?" He looked up at the sign.
"It was an apothecary." Her voice was small and final.
"What? Why would they sell the remains to—"
"Adam. Don’t you see? It’s an old Chinese belief. Men would pay a lot of money for potions made from ground-up fossils, or dragon bones, they called them. It was supposed to give you—you know, power. Potency."
His soft face lost all its color. "You don’t mean they ground up the bones and they—they—"
She stopped and listened to the teeming sounds of the city all around. "Let’s just say Peking Man has been—reabsorbed into the population."
He stared at the ground, mouth open, breathing strangely. She thought he might be sick, but after a time he slowly straightened up.
"Ready?" she said.
He closed his eyes and nodded.
They turned together to walk back. She had just enough time to make her flight to Beijing.
Historical Note
This is a work of fiction. All the characters who actually appear in the story are imagined. The historical aspects that form its backdrop, however, are based on real people and events.
The life and thought of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) are well documented through his many books as well as biographies and editions of his letters. All the quotes herein attributed to Father Teilhard and Lucile Swan (1890-1965) are from published sources.
Teilhard de Chardin did live in semiexile in China for twenty-three years, did write many of his major works there including The Phenomenon of Man, did journey to northwest China in the early 1920s with Emile Licent, and did discover the site at Shuidonggou. He made important contributions in his era to Western understanding of the geology and archaeology of China. He worked closely over a long period with the multinational group excavating the Peking Man site at Zhoukoudian. During his China years he formulated and refined many of the ideas that were later to inform his works of Christian mysticism and philosophy.
Teilhard’s profound and enduring relationship with Lucile Swan is mentioned in the memoirs of other foreigners who lived in Peking during those decades but is best described in The Letters of Teilhard de Chardin and Lucile Swan, published in 1993.
All the settings and places in this book do exist, and are presented as accurately as possible. The monkey sun god petroglyphs are real (and remain unexplained). Only one place name has been changed—that of Eren Obo, the Inner Mongolian town.
Liberties have been taken with the sequence of events surrounding Peking Man itself. Teilhard did not get Peking Man back from the Japanese at the end of the war. And although Teilhard made multiple journeys to northwest China and Mongolia, he is not known to have ever actually visited the town called Eren Obo in the book. Certainly after the war broke out he is not thought to have returned to the Northwest. He remained mostly in Peking until he was able to leave China in March 1946. And by that time Lucile was already gone, for she’d managed to get out and return to America in August 1941.
As for Peking Man, it really did vanish in 1941 as described in these pages; it vanished utterly and completely. It has never been found.
Acknowledgments
To my agent, Bonnie Nadell, and her colleague, Frederick Hill, my great thanks for believing in this book and working so hard to improve it.
I am deeply grateful to my editor, Leslie Schnur, not only for the vision and intelligence of her editing, but also for the remarkable depth of her commitment to this first novel. My appreciation also to Diane Bartoli for always being there to help, and to Laura Rossi for her terrific work in publicity.
My gratitude to the archaeologists David Madsen, Evelyn Seelinger, Robert Bettinger, and Robert Elston for allowing me to translate on their 1991 expedition to Ningxia and Inner Mongolia. Special thanks to Dr. Madsen whose advice on matters related to archaeology continued through the final draft.
To Bai Xiaobei, for her thoughtful review of the Chinese phrases in the book and her wonderful insights into its Chinese characters, my unending appreciation. A grateful salute to Zhang Jian for helping.
Thanks to the friends and fellow writers who read drafts: Peter Elbling, Liza Taylor, Tarabu Betserai Kirkland, Brian Cullman, Jill Peacock, Daniel Cano, Diane Sherry, Marjorie David, Jamie Bernstein Thomas, George Madarasz, Anita Witt, and—my China Trade partner—Cyndi Crabtree. Thanks to Mona Simpson for her early support. Thanks to my teacher Jim Krusoe, in whose class this novel was begun. Thanks to my other teachers, especially Mary Wong, Lin Duan, and the remarkable Dr. Ger-bei Lee for opening the door into Chinese. Thanks to Nobuko Miyamoto for the inspiration of her work and for years of fruitful discussion of some of the issues in this book.
My deepest appreciation to the countless people I’ve met and known in China over the past twenty-one years who have candidly related their hopes, regrets, and life histories to me. Thank you, all. Without you the Chinese characters in this book could never have been imagined.
I am indebted to many secondary sources in addition to those, cited at the front of the book, from which previously published material is quoted. Chief among these additional sources are Death Ritual in Late Imperial and Modern China, James L. Watson and Evelyn S. Rawski, editors; The Cam-bridgeEncyclopedia of China, Brian Hook, editor, and Denis Twitchett, consultant editor; Half of Man Is Woman and Getting Used to Dying by Zhang Xianliang; A Photographer in Old Peking by Hedda Morrison; China Pop by Jianying Zha; China Wakes by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn; In Search of Old Peking by L. C. Arlington and William Lewisohn; and The Years That Were Fat by George Kates.
Finally, the greatest thanks are due to my husband, Paul Mones. Without his support, encouragement, constant stream of great ideas, and general all-around valorous partnership, I’d never have written this book at all.
Nicole Mones has traveled and worked extensively in China since 1977. She lives with her family in Portland, Oregon. She is also the author of A Cup of Light, available in April 2002 from Delacorte Press.
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