The Crazed by Ha Jin

Author:Ha Jin [Jin, Ha]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Literature Teachers, Literary, Cerebrovascular Disease, Wan; Jian (Fictitious Character), Cerebrovascular Disease - Patients, Political Fiction, Political, Patients, Psychological, Politicians, Yang (Fictitious Character), Graduate Students, Teachers, China, Teacher-Student Relationships, College Teachers, Psychological Fiction
ISBN: 1407020323
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2002-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

18

When I entered the sickroom, Mr. Yang was sleeping with the quilt up to his chin. The room was brighter than the day before; a nurse’s aide had just wiped the windowpanes and mopped the floor, which was still wet, marked with shoe prints here and there. The air smelled clean despite a touch of mothball. “How is he today?” I asked Banping.

“Awful.” He shook his heavy chin, then motioned for me to go out.

In the corridor he said to me, “He’s been sleeping since eight o’clock. At the beginning I thought it would be a quiet morning, but it turned out to be awful.”

“What happened?”

“He had bad dreams, shouting at the top of his lungs and kicking his feet. He also talked about you.”

“Me? What did he say?”

“He said you were studying at Beijing University. He was proud of you and praised you to somebody.”

“Did he really mean that?”

“I think so. By the way, do you know who asked him for a recommendation besides yourself?”

“For what?”

“I’m not sure. Somebody asked him to write a recommendation for a young man, but Mr. Yang wouldn’t do it and said, ‘I know nothing about your nephew.’ He was mad at that person, and they had a row.”

I was puzzled and said, “He never quarreled with anyone except Professor Song.” Then I remembered that the other day Mr. Yang in his sleep had begged someone to leave him and his family alone and refused the offer of a large apartment and a full professorship. But that didn’t sound like a fight.

“It couldn’t be Professor Song,” said Banping. “He can write recommendations himself.”

What confused me more was Mr. Yang’s praising me in his dream. Did he really want me to become a Ph.D. candidate at Beijing University? Why this reversal of attitude? I wished he were himself so that I could ask him.

After Banping left, I began to mull over the letter of recommendation he had mentioned. Intuitively I felt it might have some bearing on Mr. Yang’s stroke. The thought came to me that probably the person asking for the letter might be the same one who had promised Mr. Yang the apartment and the full professorship. What kind of recommendation was this? Perhaps it was for college admission. But what did the person’s nephew want to study? For what kind of degree, a B.A. or an M.A.? In what field? Classical literature? And at what school?

Unable to figure out any answers to these questions, I began to read the current issue of Beijing Review, an English-language weekly, to which I had subscribed ever since I was a graduate student. It carried a lengthy article about Mikhail Gorbachev’s visit to China; I could follow its general drift without consulting a dictionary.

About an hour later, Mr. Yang started to talk in his sleep. He said calmly, “Why did you turn down my proposal?”

At first I thought he referred to some departmental business, so I didn’t think much of it. Gradually it became clear that he was having an exchange with a woman.

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