Excerpt: Nobel Winner Mo Yan's 'The Republic of Wine' - Wall Street Journal (blog) [fornadablog.blogspot.com]
Question by Laura H: How long is water "good" in a blow-up pool? I have this pool: http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=5607352 So, there's no filter or chemicals. I do use a pool cover. Best answer for How long is water "good" in a blow-up pool?:
Answer by sophieb Answer by Richard D Answer by OrakTheBold Answer by jersey city Joe
Did you ever put out a glass of water overnight and check it 24 hours later? Well it gets thick and heavy. So I would suggest that when you're done with the pool for the day then rinse it out. Maybe even with a little detergent in the water, and turn it over to dry out for the next time you will use it.
You can probably get 4-5 days out of the water especially if it is covered by using 1 - 3 drops of bleach in the water. You can use an eye dropper for this and can buy one in the first- aid and beauty-ware section at your local K-mart or Wal-mart. If you do not want to do this probably 2 days, however, if you try keeping it longer, algae and micro-organisms can begin to take form (reason for the bleach) These contaminants can cause ear, eye infections. RD
How long would you keep water in your bathtub? Dump the water after the children play.
be sure to hang this sign up.... I don't swim in your toilet so don't pee in my pool.
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[fornadablog.blogspot.com], Excerpt: Nobel Winner Mo Yan's 'The Republic of Wine' - Wall Street Journal (blog)
By Barbara Chai
- REUTERS
- Books of Chinese writer Mo Yan are on display during the book fair in Frankfurt, October 11.
Chinese writer Mo Yan was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature yesterday, prompting many readers to quickly Google the author’s name in an effort to learn more about his work. While he’s well-known in China, Mo Yan, a prolific writer, isn’t world famous. A number of his Chinese books have been translated into English, but have been out of print â€" until now.
Speakeasy published a new English translation excerpt of Mo Yan’s 2001 novel, “Sandalwood Death†after the Nobel announcement yesterday. Now, we have an excerpt from his novel, “The Republic of Wine†(“Jiu Guo†in Chinese), a satire published in Chinese in 1992 and translated into English in 2000 by Arcade Publishing, an imprint of Skyhorse Publishing. The English translation of book, which went out of print, was already being planned for a November 13 reissue by Arcade before the Nobel Prize news.
Arcade also plans November reissues of Mo Yan’s “The Garlic Ballads†and “Shifu, You’ll Do Anything for a Laugh.â€
“The Republic of Wine,†excerpted here, is set in an imaginary province of China that is ripe with corruption, superstition and gluttony. A special investigator, Ding Gou’er, is sent to the city of Liquorland in response to rumors of strange drinking behavior. The author, known for his magical realist style, intersperses the narrative with letters and stories-within-stories.
An Excerpt of Mo Yan’s “The Republic of Wine,†translated by Howard Goldblatt
Page 33
As the night deepened, I detected the aroma of liquor off to the northeast, an intimate, seductive smell, even though there was a wall between it and me, and it had to soar across one snow-covered roof after another, pierce the armor of ice-clad trees, and pass down roads, intoxicating chickens, ducks, geese, and dogs along the way. The barking of those dogs was rounded like liquor bottles, exuberantly drunk; the aroma intoxicated constellations, which winked happily and swayed in the sky, like little urchins on swings; intoxicated fish in the river hid among lithe water weeds and spat out sticky, richly mellow air bubbles. To be sure, birds braving the cold night air drank in the aroma of liquor as they flew overhead, including two densely feathered owls, and even some field voles chomping grass in their underground dens. On this spot of land, full of life in spite of the cold, many sentient beings shared in the enjoyment of man’s contribution, and sacred feelings were thus born. ‘The popularity of liquor begins with the sage kings, though some say Yi Di, and others Du Kang.’ Liquor flows among the gods. Why do we offer it as a sacrifice to our ancestors and to release the imprisoned souls of the dead? That night I understood. It was the moment of my initiation. On that night a
Page 34
spirit sleeping within me awakened, and I was in touch with a mystery of the universe, one that transcends the power of words to describe, beautiful and gentle, tender and kind, moving and sorrowful, moist and redolent . . . do you all understand? He stretched his arms out to the audience, as they craned their necks toward him. We sat there bug-eyed, our mouths open, as if we wanted to go up to see, then eat, a miraculous potion lying in the palm of his hands, which were, in fact, empty.
The colors emanating from your eyes are incredibly moving. Only people who speak to God can create colors like that. You see sights we cannot see, you hear sounds we cannot hear, you smell odors we cannot smell. What grief we feel! When speech streams from that organ called your mouth, it is like a melody, a rounded, flat river, a silken thread from the rear end of a spider waving gossamer like in the air, the size of a chicken’s egg, just as smooth and glossy, and every bit as wholesome. We are intoxicated by that music, we drift in that river, we dance on that silken spider thread, we see God. But before we see Him, we watch our own corpses float down the river . . .
Why were the owls’ screeches so gentle that night, like the pillow talk of lovers? Because there was liquor in the air. Why were geese, wild and domestic, coupling in the freezing night, when it wasn’t even the mating season? Again, because there was liquor in the air. My nose twitched spiritedly. Fang Nine asked in a soft, muffled voice:
‘Why are you scrunching up your nose like that? Going to sneeze?’
‘Liquor,’ I said. ‘I smell liquor!’
They scrunched up their noses too. Seventh Uncle’s nose was a mass of wrinkles.
‘I don’t smell liquor,’ he said. ‘Where is it?’
My thoughts were galloping. ‘Sniff the air,’I said, ‘sniff it.’
Their eyes darted all around the room, searching every corner. Seventh Uncle picked up the grass mat covering the brick bed, to which Seventh Aunt reacted angrily:
‘What are you looking for? You think there’s liquor here in bed? You amaze me!’
Reprinted with permission from Arcade Publishing, Skyhorse Publishing.
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