重音五问 | Five Questions with Wenfei

Accent: Why do you write in English?

Wenfei：In the spring of 2012, on a train to Wuhan visiting my boyfriend, I opened Chi Pang-yuan’s The Great Flowing River and began to read. For the next several hours, I forgot everything around me and finished reading the book before I got off the train. At that time, I was a senior economics major student; the real world just started to unfold before me, and I felt immensely confused. After an internship in a securities company, I knew I had no passion for finance or economics, but didn’t know what to do next. Chi’s memoir kindled my old dream to become a writer and a yearning to appreciate the beauty of English literature, so I decided to give myself several years to work towards that goal.

I’d always wanted to experience life in a culturally different country. Besides, I love changes. Writing in English gives me a chance to rebuild my perception of language and the world. It also gives me more freedom—to feel less censored by myself, acquittances, or the censorship—though there are new limitations and obstacles.

A：What did you get from your MFA, anything good, awful, or meaningful?

W：I learned that good stories come from arduous writing, revising, and rewriting. There is no luck in writing—for luck I don't mean to publish a story or a novel, but to write a work that I can feel satisfied and die without regrets.

In Michael Meyer's nonfiction workshop, he showed us his first draft and final version from a chapter of his nonfiction debut, and I could see how much it had changed. One day, he printed us a tiny part of his e-library—a folder in his computer that contained numerous PDFs that he scanned or typed whenever he read a good chapter or just a beautiful paragraph.

I also learned from my MFA that communicating with fellow writers is important. We may be all assailed by similar self-doubt, frustration, pressure, and of course, life itself. Talking with other emerging writers, especially those racial or cultural minority writers, I know I'm not alone to struggle with certain biases and expectations on "what a Chinese writer should write."

A：What creative medium do you work in to take a break from your writing?

W：I like to paint and take photos. When I was in Pittsburgh, I resumed watercolor painting and enjoyed its healing effect. There were many sycamore trees near the Carnegie library that shed bark every year. I used to pick up some flat bark and painted on them.

After having my son, I have less time to paint, so I take more photos instead. Looking things from a camera helps me pay close attention to tiny details, light, shadow, frame, and color—like a small piece of a butterfly’s wing on the ground, or a dead crow buried by cones and pine needles along the sidewalk. It also inspires me to create better scenes in my writing.

In retrospect, I realize that images, no matter painting or photos, are my unborn words. I have to resort to images when I can’t find proper languages to describe those things. That was why I took thousands of pictures during my time in Pittsburgh when I was the only Chinese student in the program, and my English sometimes failed to convey my emotions or thoughts.

A：Tell us a book/movie/play/artwork… that you have recently enjoyed.

W：I recently watched an amazing documentary named Parrot Confidential. It’s surprising to know that some parrots can reach ages of up to 80 or 90 years. Many people think parrots are ideal pets because of their exotic beauty and high intelligence, but never think about how to take care of them for such a long time. Besides, a parrot needs a strong emotional bond with its partner or owner. If an owner gets married or has a baby, his/her intimacy with others may strongly distress his/her parrot, for a parrot regards its owner as its only love. The feeling of being deserted makes them aggressive and results in a lot of abandonment of pet parrots.

This is a bittersweet documentary that, on the one hand, shows the strikingly beautiful and smart parrots, and on the other hand, shows the destructions human have brought to them in the name of fondness. It reminds me to reflect on my actions and how often my unexamined anthropocentric view can be harmful to other living creatures.

A：Share with us some gossip about your writing community.

W：This may be not a gossip, but on the fifth floor of the Cathedral of Learning, there is a nursing room in the ladies’ room. Though it is just a small area divided by a curtain, I feel so grateful that the English Department actually prepares this place for mothers. During the three years I studied at the University of Pittsburgh, I had never seen other women using that room except me, and I knew there was only another female student who had her baby when she was still in the program. I brought my son to my fiction and nonfiction workshops three times when my babysitter couldn’t come to my apartment; all my professors and classmates welcomed us. Michael and a female classmate also took care of my baby during the class, which made me feel relieved and thankful. Their kindness eased my anxiety about being a new mother and an MFA student.

INTERVIEWEE BIO

Wenfei is a Chinese writer, translator, and feminist currently lives in Irvine. She received her MFA in fiction from the University of Pittsburgh. Her work has appeared in China30s, Southern Metropolis Daily, and elsewhere. She is working on a nonfiction about MeToo in China. She is the Chinese translator of Kent Haruf’s Our Souls at Night.