from WEEDS by LU XUN, translated by Matt Turner

FAINT BLOODSTAINS[*]

            — Memorializing some dead, some living, some not yet born

Currently the Architect remains a weakling.

He secretly alters Heaven and Earth, but doesn’t dare destroy this world; secretly induces decay and death in the living, but doesn’t dare store the corpses for long; secretly bleeds humankind, but doesn’t dare let the blood retain its bold, intransigent color; secretly inflicts suffering on humankind, but doesn’t dare allow it much memory of that suffering.

He only thinks on behalf of his own kind — humankind’s weakest; he uses ruins and deserted tombs to accent the homes of the rich, uses time to thin pain and bloodstains; day after day he pours cups of slightly sweet, bitter wine — not too little or too much — making one slightly drunk; he gives it to the human world, and it makes the drinker cry or sing as if sober or drunk. It’s like knowing or not knowing, or wanting to live or die. He tries to make everyone want to live; yet he doesn’t have the courage to wipe us out.

Some ruins and deserted tombs are scattered across the ground, accented with faint bloodstains; all the people living here savor their vague suffering: they don’t want to reject it; they think it’s better than the void; and then they claim to be “destroyed by Heaven.” To taste everyone else’s suffering, they need justification; then they hold their breath out of fear, quietly awaiting the coming of a new, more vague suffering. The new — it frightens them, but they hunger for the jolt.

They are all loyal subjects of the Architect. He demands this.

A rebellious warrior from the human world comes. He towers over it all, sees it clearly, the ruins and deserted tombs have become themselves; he remembers the deep, constant suffering; he looks at the sediment left by so much clotted blood, understanding everything’s already dead: just born, living, not yet born. He sees through the Creator’s tricks. He’ll revive humankind or he’ll wipe out the loyal subjects of the Architect.

The Architect, the weakling, hides in shame. Heaven and Earth therefore change countenance in the eyes of the warrior.

April 8, 1926

[*] On March 18, 1926, The Beiyang Government’s military police killed 47 protesters in Beijing, wounding over 200. Numbered among the dead were two of Lu Xun’s students from the Peking Women’s College of Education, Liu Hezhen and Yang Dequn. In response, Lu Xun wrote “Faint Bloodstains” while hiding from the police, who were rumored to have orders for his arrest.