为了这个题目，我统计了迄今为止在中国和中文以外的出版情况（不包括中国的少数民族语言），有35种语言和38个国家。国家比语种多的原因主要是英语，北美（美国和加拿大）、英国、澳大利亚和新西兰，葡萄牙语有巴西和葡萄牙，阿拉伯语分别在埃及和科威特出版；也有相反的情况，西班牙出版了两种语言，西班牙语和加泰罗尼亚语，印度出版了两种地方语，马拉雅拉姆语和泰米尔语。

回顾自己的书游荡世界的经历，就是翻译-出版-读者的经历。我注意到国内讨论中国文学在世界上的境遇时经常只是强调翻译的重要性，翻译当然重要，可是出版社不出版，再好的译文也只能锁在抽屉里，这是过去，现在是存在硬盘里，然后是读者了，出版后读者不理睬，出版社就赔钱了，就不愿意继续出版中国的文学作品。所以翻译-出版-读者是三位一体，缺一不可。

最早翻译出版我小说的有三个国家，都是在1994年，法国、荷兰和希腊。23年过去后，法国出版了11本书，荷兰出版了4本书，希腊仍然只有1本书。

1994年，法国的两家出版社出版了《活着》和中篇小说集《世事如烟》，出版《活着》的是法国最大的出版社，出版《世事如烟》的很小，差不多是家庭出版社。1995年我去法国参加圣马洛国际文学节时，顺便在巴黎访问了那家最大的出版社，见到了那位编辑，当时我正在写《许三观卖血记》，问他是否愿意出版我的下一部小说，这位编辑用奇怪的表情问我：“你的下部小说会改编成电影吗？”我知道自己在这家出版社完蛋了。我又去问那个家庭出版社是否愿意出版我的下一部小说，他们的回答很谦虚，说他们是很小的出版社，还要出版其他作家的书，不能这么照顾我。当时我觉得自己在法国完蛋了。这时候运气来了，法国声望很高的出版社Actes Sud设立了中国文学丛书，邀请巴黎东方语言学院的汉学教授何碧玉（Isabelle Rabut）担任主编，她熟悉我的作品，《许三观卖血记》在中国的《收获》杂志刚发表，她立刻让Actes Sud买下版权，一年多后就出版了。此后Actes Sud一本接着一本出版我的书，我在法国终于找到了自己的出版社。

荷兰DE GEUS在1994年出版了《活着》之后，又出版了《许三观卖血记》、《兄弟》和《第七天》。有趣的是，23年来我和DE GEUS没有任何联系，我不知道编辑是谁，也不知道译者是谁，可能是中间隔着经纪公司的缘故。我认真想了一下，我认识并且熟悉的荷兰汉学家只有林恪（Mark Leenhouts），可是这家伙不翻译我的书。去年7月在中国的长春见到林恪时，他希望我下次去欧洲时顺道访问荷兰，我们约定了今年9月的这个行程。我向林恪打听我的荷兰语译者，他微笑地说出了一个名字——麦约翰（Jan De Meyer）。林恪告诉我，麦约翰是比利时人，说荷兰语，住在法国。这个人太有意思了。今年4月，DE GEUS请麦约翰编辑我的一部短篇小说集，我收到了麦约翰的第一封邮件，他对我说的第一句话是：“您不认识我。把您的《兄弟》和《第七天》翻译成荷兰语的就是我。”这就是他全部的自我介绍。

希腊的出版故事也许更有趣，大约十多年前，希腊的Hestia决定出版《活着》，他们与我签了合同，找好了译者，这时候Hestia突然发现，另一家出版社Livani在1994年就出版了《活着》的希腊文。我不知道这个情况，甚至不知道是谁把版权卖给了Livani。Hestia退出了，Livani给我寄来了几本样书，此后这两家出版社忘记了我，我也忘记了他们。为了写这篇文章，我查了资料才想起这两家出版社。

遇到好的译者很重要，意大利的米塔（M. R. Masci）和裴尼柯（N. Pesaro），德国的高立希（Ulrich Kautz），美国的安道（Andrew Jones）和白睿文（Michael Berry），日本的饭冢容，韩国的白元淡等，都是先把我的书译完了再去寻找出版社，我现在的英文译者白亚仁（Allan Barr）当年就是通过安道（Andrew Jones）的介绍给我写信，翻译了我的一个短篇小说集，结果十年后才出版。像白亚仁这样热衷翻译又不在意何时才能出版的译者并不多，因为好的译者已经是或者很快就是著名翻译家了，他们有的会翻译很多作家的书，这些著名翻译家通常是不见兔子不撒鹰，拿到出版社的合同后才会去翻译，所以找到适合自己的出版社更加重要。我在法国前后有过四位译者，出版社一直是Actes Sud，在美国也有过四位译者，出版社也一直是兰登书屋，固定的出版社可以让作家的书持续出版。

《活着》（译者白睿文Michael Berry）和《许三观卖血记》（译者安道Andrew Jones）九十年代就翻译成了英语，可是在美国的出版社那里不断碰壁，有一位编辑还给我写了信，他问我：“为什么你小说中的人物只承担家庭的责任，而不去承担社会的责任？”我意识到这是历史和文化的差异，给他写了回信，告诉他中国拥有三千年的国家的历史，漫长的封建制抹杀了社会中的个人性，个人在社会生活中没有发言权，只有在家庭生活里才有发言权。我告诉他这两本书在时间上只是写到七十年代末，九十年代以后这一切都变了，我试图说服他，没有成功。然后继续在美国的出版社碰壁，直到2002年遇到我现在的编辑芦安（LuAnn），她帮助我在兰登书屋站稳了脚跟。

找到适合自己出版社的根本原因是找到一位欣赏自己作品的编辑，德国最初出版我的书的是KLETT-COTTA，九十年代末出版了《活着》和《许三观卖血记》之后他们不再出版我的书，几年后我才知道原因，我的编辑托马斯去世了。我后来的书都去了S.Fischer，因为那里有一位叫库布斯基（Kupski）的好编辑，每次我到德国，无论多远，她都会坐上火车来看望我，经常是傍晚到达，第二天凌晨天没亮又坐上火车返回法兰克福。

2010年我去西班牙宣传自己的新书，在巴塞罗那见到我的编辑埃莲娜（Elena），晚饭时我把1995年与法国那家最大出版社编辑的对话当成笑话告诉她，结果她捂住嘴瞪圆眼睛，她的眼神里似乎有一丝惊恐，她难以相信世界上还有这样的编辑。那一刻我确定了Saix Barral是我在西班牙语的出版社，虽然当时他们只出版了我两本书。

下面我要说说和读者的交流了，我经常遇到这样的问题：中国读者和外国读者的提问有什么区别？这个问题在外国会遇到，在中国也会遇到。然后一个误解产生了，认为我在国外经常会遇到社会和政治方面的提问，而在国内不会遇到。其实国内读者提问时关于社会和政治的问题不比国外读者少。文学是包罗万象的，当我们在文学作品里读到有三个人正在走过来，有一个人正在走过去时已经涉及到了数学，3加1等于4；当我们读到糖在热水里溶化时已经涉及到了化学；当我们读到树叶掉落下来时已经涉及到了物理。文学连数理化都不能回避，又怎能去回避社会和政治。但是文学归根结底还是文学，无论是在中国还是在外国，读者最为关心的仍然是人物、命运、故事等这些属于文学的因素。只要是谈论小说本身，我觉得国外读者和国内读者的提问没有什么区别，存在的区别也只是这个读者和那个读者的区别。当我们中国读者阅读外国文学作品时，吸引我们的是什么？很简单，就是文学。我曾经说过，假如文学里真的存在神秘的力量，那就是让读者在不同时代、不同民族、不同文化、不同历史的作家的作品中读到属于自己的感受。

在和国外读者交流时常常会出现轻松的话题，比如会问在中国举办这样的活动和在国外举办有什么不同？我告诉他们，中国人口众多，中途退场的人也比国外来的全部的人要多。还有一个问题我会经常遇到，与读者见面印象最深的是哪次？我说是1995年第一次出国去法国，在圣马洛文学节的一个临时搭起的大帐蓬里签名售书，坐在一堆自己的法文版书后面，看着法国读者走过去走过来，其中有人拿起我的书看看放下走了。左等右等终于来了两个法国小男孩，他们手里拿着一张白纸，通过翻译告诉我，他们没有见过中国字，问我是不是可以给他们写两个中国字。这是我第一次在国外签名，当然我没有写自己的名字，我写下了“中国”。

For this presentation, I counted the number of countries and languages, apart from China and Chinese (and China’s ethnic minority languages) that my books have been published in so far, and it came to 38 countries and 35 languages. The reason there are more countries than languages is mainly because English editions are published in North America (US and Canada), the UK, Australia and New Zealand; Portuguese editions are published in Brazil and Portugal; and Arabic editions in Egypt and Kuwait. But sometimes the situation is reversed: my books are published in two languages in Spain (Castilian and Catalan) and in India (Malayam and Tamil).

Looking back on how my books have roamed the world, I see there are three factors: translation, publication and readers. I’ve noticed that in China discussions about Chinese literature in a world context focus on the importance of translation, and of course, translation is important, but if a publisher doesn’t publish, then it doesn’t matter how good a translation is, if it’s going to be locked in a drawer, old-style, or, these days, stored on a hard drive. Then there are the readers. If a publisher publishes a book, and the readers don’t pick up on it, then the publisher will lose money and won’t want to publish any more Chinese literature. So, these three factors – translation, publication and readers – are all essential.

My first publications in translation came out in 1994, in three countries: France, the Netherlands and Greece. 23 years later, 11 of my books have been published in France, 4 have been published in the Netherlands, and just the one has been published in Greece.

Two of my books were published in France in 1994. To Live was published by the biggest publisher in France, and a collection of short stories, World Like Mist, was published by a very small publisher, which was almost a one-man-band. In 1995, when I was in France to take part in the St Malo Literary Festival, I went to Paris to visit the big publisher and met with the editor. At the time I was writing Chronicle of a Blood Merchant and asked if he’d like to publish my next novel. He asked me in a strange way: “Can your next novel be made into a movie?” I could see I had no future with that publisher. Then I went to see the little publisher, and asked if they’d like to publish my next novel. Their answer was very modest: they were only a small publishing house, and wanted to publish other authors as well, and couldn’t devote so much attention to me. At the time I thought I had no future in France. Then, luck came my way. The prestigious French publishing house Actes Sud started a Chinese literature series, and invited Isabelle Rabut, Professor of Sinology at the École des Langues Orientales, in Paris, to be the series editor. She was familiar with my work, knew that Chronicle of a Blood Merchant had just been published in the literary journal Shouhuo [Harvest], asked Actes Sud to buy the rights, and a year or so later it was published in French. After that, Actes Sud published one after another of my books. I had found my publisher in France after all.

After publishing To Live in 1994, the Dutch publisher De Geus went on to publish Chronicle of a Blood Merchant, Brothers, and The Seventh Day. It’s interesting that in these 23 years I haven’t had any contact at all with De Geus, I don’t even know who the editor is, or the translator, probably because it all goes through an agent. I tried to work it out. I know only one Dutch Sinologist, Mark Leenhouts, but he doesn’t translate my books. When I saw him last July in Changchun, in China, he said he hoped I might visit the Netherlands next time I’m in Europe, and we arranged to meet this September. I asked him about my Dutch translator, and he smiled and gave the name Jan De Meyer. He said Jan is a Belgian, who speaks Dutch and lives in France. A very interesting person! This April De Geus asked Jan to edit a collection of my short stories, and I received my first email from him. The first line read: “You don’t know me. I’m the person who translated your books Brothers and The Seventh Day into Dutch.” That was the sum total of his self-introduction.

There’s an even more interesting story about my book in Greek. About ten or so years ago, the Greek publisher Hestia decided to publish To Live. They signed a contract with me, had a translator lined up, and then suddenly discovered that another publishing house, Liviani, had published it in 1994. I didn’t know anything about it, or even who had sold Liviani the rights. Hestia pulled out, Liviani sent me some copies of the book, and then both publishing houses forgot about me, and I forgot about them. I only remembered them when I was putting together material for this paper.

Finding a good translator is very important. M.R. Masci and N. Pesaro (Italy), Ulrich Kautz (Germany), Andrew Jones and Michael Berry (USA), Iizuka Yutori (Japan) and Paik Wondam (Korea) all translated an entire book of mine before looking for a publisher. My current English translator, Alan Barr, wrote to me, with an introduction from Andrew Jones. He translated a collection of my short stories that then took ten years to be published. Translators like Barr, who translate with passion, without caring when the translation will be published, are very rare, because good translators are usually well-known, or soon will be, and some of them will translate books by many authors. So, they won’t translate until they have a contract from a publisher – which makes it even more important to find the right publisher for you. In France, I’ve had four different translators, but have been with the same publishing house, Actes Sud. In the USA too, I’ve had four translators, and one publisher, Random House. When you’ve got a steady publisher, you can keep publishing your books.

To Live (tr. Michael Berry) and Chronicle of a Blood Merchant (tr. Andrew Jones) were translated into English in the 1990s, but I kept hitting a brick wall with the American publisher. One of their editors even wrote to me, asking: “Why do the characters in your novel have only family responsibilities, and no social responsibilities?” I realized there were historical and cultural differences, and wrote back, saying that China is a country with a history going back 3000 years, and that a lengthy period of feudalism had obliterated individuality in society, that individuals did not have freedom of speech in their social lives, only in their home lives. I told him that those two books were set in the late 70s, and that everything had changed since the 90s. I tried to persuade him, but didn’t succeed. I continued to hit a brick wall in the US, until 2002 when I met my current editor, LuAnn, and thanks to her, I got a foothold at Random House.

A key part of finding the right publisher for you is to find an editor who appreciates your work. My first books in Germany – To Live and Chronicle of a Blood Merchant – were published by Klett-Cotta in the late 90s, but they didn’t publish any of my other books. A few years later I found out why. It turned out that my editor, Thomas, had died. My later books have all gone to S. Fischer, because they have a good editor called Kupski, and whenever I go to Germany, she takes a train to wherever I am – no matter how far away – and comes to meet me, often arriving in the evening, and leaving the next morning before dawn on a train back to Frankfurt.

In 2010 I went to Spain to promote my new book. I met my editor Elena in Barcelona, and over dinner I joked about the conversation I’d had in 1995 with the biggest publishing house in France. She listened in horror, her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening, barely able to believe that such editors still existed. I knew instantly that Saix Barral was the right publisher for me in Spanish, although they had only published two of my books at the time.

I’ll say a few words now about my interactions with readers. I’m often asked if Chinese readers and foreign readers ask the same kind of questions. I’ve been asked this overseas and in China, and there’s some misunderstanding here. People think that I’m often asked social and political questions overseas, but not in China. In fact, readers in China ask just as many social and political questions as foreign readers. Literature encompasses everything. When we read in a literary work that three people walk past another person, we know that three plus one makes four people – that’s maths. When we read about sugar dissolving in hot water, that’s chemistry. When we read about leaves falling, that’s physics. Literature can’t avoid maths, physics and chemistry. It can’t avoid society and politics either. At its heart, literature is literature, whether it’s Chinese or foreign, and what concerns readers most are the things that belong to literature: the characters, their fate and the story. If we’re talking about the novel itself, then I don’t think there’s any difference between the questions asked by Chinese readers and foreign readers. If there are differences, they are between individual readers. For us Chinese, when we read foreign literature, what is it that draws us in? Very simply, it’s literature. As I’ve said before, if there is a mysterious power in literature, then it’s the power that allows us to read about our own feelings in works by authors of different periods, different ethnic groups, different cultures, and different histories.

When talking with foreign readers, there are often some lighter questions too. For example, they might ask what would be different about the same event if it was taking place in China? I tell them that China’s population is huge, and that more people give up trying to get to a venue in China than actually make it to a venue overseas. Another question I’m often asked is: what has been my deepest impression on meeting a reader? I say it was in 1995 when I went abroad for the first time, to France, and I was at a book signing event in a tent at the St Malo literary festival, sitting behind a pile of my own books in French, watching French readers coming and going. Some of them would pick up my book, look at it, and then put it down again. I waited and waited, and then finally two young French boys came over with a piece of blank paper, and told me through the translator that they’d never seen any Chinese writing, and asked if I would write a couple of Chinese characters for them. It was the first time I was asked to sign my name overseas. Of course, I didn’t write my own name, I wrote Zhong guo [China].