“His great novel Soul Mountain is one of those singular literary creations that seem impossible to compare with anything but themselves.” From the Nobel Prize for Literature (2000) press release.

Soul Mountain is a major work from Gao Xingjian, but if you plan on reading it, be forewarned: an excursion through the novel is an unconventional experience. There is  no protagonist, significant character, plot, or story arc. And there is — at best — a tenuous temporal structure to the narrative. There are certainly themes running through the book, and it is part travelogue, part autobiography, part philosophical musing, and part several other things. Most importantly, it provides a rich, rewarding encounter.

The novel is fragmented, creative, and disjointed, yet — ultimately — it is remarkably cohesive. The book itself is Soul Mountain, and Gao Xingjian is our guide. We have been invited inside his psyche, a gyring caldron of stories, thoughts, history, recollections, folklore and dream visions. 

The unnamed narrator — Gao Xingjian, in one guise or another — is escaping the grasp of the city, its politics, and regime. He is leaving with freedom of spirit, a newfound lease on life after a misdiagnosed lung cancer scare. He sets out on a spiritual journey to find the mythical Soul Mountain (Lingshan); unfortunately, morbidity is a side-effect of his solitary quest. He meets with others on his travels, but more often encounters loneliness, so he invents characters, versions of his own psyche (I, You, Him, Her, He, She…) to keep him company, to share his thoughts and stories with, to travel with, and to truly connect with (though this, too, is not completely successful. And it seems that the reader, too, is the you, she, he, her and him within the pages). It is sometimes challenging to focus on the narrative as it meanders down unsuspected paths; and, though I treasured many sections, I was impatient with the burden of others. But “The true traveller is without goal, it is the absence of goals which creates the ultimate traveller.” (chapter 47, p. 277).

I found the reading experience thought-provoking, but I’m not sure I can recommend it as a novel (at one point, the author critiques himself: “This isn’t a novel!”, chapter 72, p. 452). However, if you are a patient reader that is searching for something different (at times frustrating), and something that — as much as I’ve tried — defies description, then I highly recommend a journey through Soul Mountain.

While reading the novel I also flipped through a book of Gao Xingjian’s ink paintings, Return to Painting. The paintings, and the Zen-like writings in this book, add a further dimension to his novel, and I recommend a look at his art while reading the novel (some of his paintings can be found here and here).

There is even a painting within Return to Painting entitled Soul Mountain (64.2 x 46 cm, 2000. Private collection).