Chapter 19 Surrealist Modes of Expression (超現實)
Section 1. Surrealist Imagination
The “surrealist modes of expression” discussed in this article are not based on Surrealism (Surréalisme) as a theoretical foundation. In particular, collage and automatic writing, although indeed expressive techniques advocated by the surrealist movement, are not the focus of this discussion.
The “surrealist modes of expression” defined by the author originate from association (Association) activity and refer to the highest level of creative imagination (Creative imagination): a psychological activity that does not rely on others’ descriptions but independently creates novel, unique, and strange images through the creative synthesis of representations stored in memory. Through the combination of imagery, poets present novel visual scenes that go beyond the shared aesthetic experience of ordinary people, thereby expressing their own particular aesthetic demands. This is similar to the cinematic technique of “Montage”: according to the creator’s conception, shots (images) marked by different times and locations are organically edited together so that they produce continuity (narrative axis), contrast, association, foreshadowing, suspense, and other effects, thereby forming a film that expresses certain ideological content and constitutes an artistic aesthetic experience, which can be participated in and understood by viewers (audiences or readers), and can stimulate their imagination and aesthetic sensibility.
Section 2. Types of Surrealist Expression
In modern poetry texts, many expressive techniques appear that cannot be strictly classified by rhetorical categories. For example:
(1) collage technique cannot be analyzed merely through enumeration or elaboration;
(2) montage editing likewise cannot be explained solely through depiction, hyperbole, or synesthesia. Because both, in terms of their expressive form, are not suitable for rhetorical classification that focuses on sentence-level analysis. In this article, the author will discuss three main types of surrealist expression: transformational combination, montage editing, and surreal performance.
I. Transformational Combination
“Transformational combination” refers to the deliberate combination of images of different natures—such as time, space, distance, sound, light, etc.—to produce novel and aesthetically transformed imagery, thereby conveying a realm of meaning that is “illogically wondrous.”
The author has previously, in Chapter 15 of his own work “Image Transformation: Hyperbole,” used “transformational hyperbole” to explain combinations of images of different natures that transcend ordinary aesthetic experience:
“Seven Summer Heat Fragments in the Mountains: ‘The Sleepless Dog’” / Yu Guangzhong
Often, after the last train has passed
the vastness of heaven and earth is reduced to nothing more than
a mile or half a mile away
the barking of dogs from distant houses, two or three sounds
only the lamp can understand
At this hour, the white-haired man under the lamp
is also a sleepless dog
but guarding a different kind of night
barking at a different kind of shadow
If one listens a little farther away
— for example, a hundred years away
one can hear it
clearly
and distinctly
In this passage, the poet first uses a “spatial compression hyperbole”: “the vastness of heaven and earth is reduced to / a mile or half a mile away / the barking of dogs from distant houses, two or three sounds,” compressing the immense space of heaven and earth toward “sound.” This is also a “transformational hyperbole.” Although the barking coming from distant houses is one way of measuring distance, it is impossible for heaven and earth to be condensed into “two or three sounds,” which shows that it contains elements of transformation similar to synesthesia and sensory conversion.
Later, the poet again uses “transformational hyperbole”: “If one listens a little farther away / — for example, a hundred years away / one can hear it clearly.” Here, time (one hundred years) is used as a unit for measuring distance, forming a transformed image of the vehicle: time, while the base image: distance, clearly do not belong to the same category of imagery. This is therefore also a technique of “transformational combination.”
“Listening in the Deep Mountains at Night” / Yu Guangzhong
Deep mountains, long night
All sounds merge into a single dream
What could be more listenable
than absolute silence?
Even the longest, busiest history
must have such a moment
that requires no argument, must it not?
But what about the wind, you ask
The wind? That is time passing through
bringing a faint, occasional
echo
In the lines “But what about the wind, you ask / The wind? That is time passing through / bringing a faint, occasional / echo,” from the echo caused by the wind, one perceives that time is passing through. This is not a simple sensory transfer or synesthetic transformation from sound into form, because time has no concrete shape. It is clearly an image-compositional transformation produced through material conversion.
II. Montage Editing
Montage editing breaks free from the linear constraints of time and space, combining images that could not simultaneously exist and thereby generating novel creativity. When used in poetry, montage techniques often create many unexpected and striking images. Among Taiwanese modern poets, Luo Fu is the poet who has achieved the most outstanding results in employing this expressive technique.
“Yesterday’s Water Ginger Flower” / Luo Fu
When I first picked you
you suddenly rushed toward me with leaf and stem
naked in white
with a body fragrance of mint
If beyond both banks of the river there exists a third bank
my outstretched arm is that
All lost songs cannot be restored by echoes
At the edge of the water
you habitually bend down
striving to piece together the layers of ripples dispersing
yesterday’s
reflection
“If beyond both banks of the river there exists a third bank / my outstretched arm is that” is an imaginative line; however, “my outstretched arm is the third bank” is an inserted imaginative image that is highly intriguing.
“In the lines ‘At the edge of the water / you habitually bend down / striving to piece together the layers of ripples dispersing / yesterday’s / reflection,’ since it is yesterday’s reflection on the water, it has already dispersed in layers with the ripples. Yet the poet insists on depicting the protagonist, the water ginger flower, as persistently attempting to piece together yesterday’s reflection on the water. This allows readers to feel a state of persistent attachment and nostalgia, rendered in a romantic and emotional manner.”
〈Female Ghost (2)〉 / Luo Fu
She
was lifted by a rope into
a
sorrowfully beautiful
Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio
Following the flute sound to search
every window might be seated
her that went to the capital to take the examination
heartless scholar
wind comes without sound
she darts and leaps into
that just closed bound book
An image of a woman hanging herself and seeking death, this scene is extremely tragic, but the next image is edited into “a sorrowfully beautiful / Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio,” diluting the reader’s tragic emotion, while at the same time shifting the focus to the sorrowful and beautiful world of Strange Tales. “Wind comes without sound / she darts and leaps into / that just closed bound book,” the action image of darting and leaping into a bound book is similar to a 3D special-effects shot; this is no longer something that can be analyzed by hyperbole, but is a montage editing technique.
III. Surrealistic Performance
The surreal performance technique itself possesses irrational absurdity, similar to the tricks of a magician performing magic, but such absurd images can still be accepted by the reader’s aesthetic experience, because it provides the reader with some interesting implied meanings; even if it is “absurd and unreasonable,” it is nevertheless “marvelously interesting.”
〈Two Pieces on West Lake: Bai Causeway〉 / Luo Fu
Did Bai Juyi be a romanticist
still awaiting research
yet he indeed in one single night
for West Lake
drew a brow that makes one’s heart race
and hung bird sounds, long and short
all over the willow branches of the four seasons
chirping for more than a thousand years until it woke me
from my dream
Breakfast is a window full of clouds
with a pot of Tiger Run Spring water brewed bell sounds
so full that I burp
but walking to the causeway
I again added another meal
of autumn wind left over and eaten by lotus leaves
“chirping for more than a thousand years until it woke me / from my dream” uses an exaggeration that stretches time; the following “Breakfast is a window full of clouds / with a pot of Tiger Run Spring water brewed bell sounds / so full that I burp / but walking to the causeway / I again added another meal / of autumn wind left over and eaten by lotus leaves” is a cartoon-like absurd performance of images. The “I” in the poem is the Bai Causeway that has slept for a thousand years. Even though readers feel that the combination of images is not entirely reasonable, they can still comprehend and accept this kind of entertaining surreal performance.
〈Afternoon of Water Hyacinths〉 / Luo Fu
Afternoon. In the pond water
crowded with clusters of pregnant water hyacinths
this summer is very lonely
if it is to give birth, then give birth to a pond of frogs
ah, the problem is
we are merely falsely fat
A pond of frogs is unexpectedly born from pregnant water hyacinths; this kind of absurd continuous imagery is not exaggeration of objects, but already surreal imaginative speculation. Yet readers do not reject such strange ideas, but instead find them novel and interesting.
〈No Rain〉 / Luo Fu
long clear weather without rain
this heart has long since cracked
if you are a tear that cannot condense and drip
how much I wish
to become a fish within your eyes
“I am a fish swimming in your tears,” this of course is also a surreal imagination, but such surreal imagery gives the reader a kind of deeply emotional aesthetic feeling; the reader does not need to reject imagination with rational thinking.
〈Entering the Mountain by Rain Sound but Not Seeing Rain〉
holding up an oil-paper umbrella
singing of sour plums in March
among all the mountains
I am the only straw sandal
woodpecker empty empty
echo hollow hollow
a tree in pain from pecking rotates upward
entering the mountain
not seeing rain
the umbrella flies around a green stone
there sits a man holding his head
watching cigarette butts flick into ash
going down the mountain
still not seeing rain
three bitter pine nuts
rolling along the road sign all the way to my feet
I reach out and grab them
and unexpectedly it is a handful of bird sounds
“three bitter pine nuts / rolling along the road sign all the way to my feet / I reach out and grab them / and unexpectedly it is a handful of bird sounds,” when the three bitter pine nuts are grasped by the hand, they unexpectedly become a handful of bird sounds scattering away; this is equivalent to a magic-like scene. Even though it does not conform to common sense, it possesses a special novelty and interest.
〈Peeling a Pear at Midnight〉 / Luo Fu
cold and also thirsty
I quietly look at
on the midnight tea table
a Korean pear
it is indeed a pear
a touchably cold
shining brass-colored
pear
cut open with a knife
inside its chest
it unexpectedly hides
a very deep very deep well
trembling
thumb and index finger gently pinch
a small piece of pear flesh
white and innocent
knife falls
I bend down to look for it
ah! everywhere on the ground
is my brass-colored skin
“Peeling a Pear at Midnight” also uses montage editing: “shining brass-colored / pear / cut open with a knife / inside its chest / it unexpectedly hides / a very deep very deep well,” inside the pear core there unexpectedly is a deep well—this is the editing of two juxtaposed images. “Knife falls / I bend down to look for it / ah! everywhere on the ground / is my brass-colored skin,” what should have been the yellow skin of the pear after peeling is instead, through illusion, subjectively forced into becoming the poet’s own brass-colored skin. If viewed through cinematic editing, this passage has not only the suspense effect of montage, but also the special effect of magic.
Conclusion:
The three surreal expressive techniques—transformational composition, montage editing, and surreal performance—when applied in new poetry creation, often produce extraordinarily refined visual effects, thereby bringing readers a refreshing aesthetic imagination. In fact, if poets are willing to work hard on rhetorical techniques, to carefully refine their writing and develop creativity, and then appropriately incorporate these three types of surreal expressive techniques, the author has reason to believe that your new poetry works will surely not only refresh readers’ senses, but also make them exclaim in admiration, because you have already trained yourself into a “language magician with ever-changing tricks.”
〈Female Ghost (2)〉 / Luo Fu
She
was lifted by a rope into
a
sorrowfully beautiful
Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio
Following the flute sound to search
every window might be seated
her that went to the capital to take the examination
heartless scholar
wind comes without sound
she darts and leaps into
that just closed bound book
An image of a woman hanging herself and seeking death, this scene is extremely tragic, but the next image is edited into “a sorrowfully beautiful / Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio,” diluting the reader’s tragic emotion, while at the same time shifting the focus to the sorrowful and beautiful world of Strange Tales. “Wind comes without sound / she darts and leaps into / that just closed bound book,” the action image of darting and leaping into a bound book is similar to a 3D special-effects shot; this is no longer something that can be analyzed by hyperbole, but is a montage editing technique.
III. Surrealistic Performance
The surreal performance technique itself possesses irrational absurdity, similar to the tricks of a magician performing magic, but such absurd images can still be accepted by the reader’s aesthetic experience, because it provides the reader with some interesting implied meanings; even if it is “absurd and unreasonable,” it is nevertheless “marvelously interesting.”
〈Two Pieces on West Lake: Bai Causeway〉 / Luo Fu
Did Bai Juyi be a romanticist
still awaiting research
yet he indeed in one single night
for West Lake
drew a brow that makes one’s heart race
and hung bird sounds, long and short
all over the willow branches of the four seasons
chirping for more than a thousand years until it woke me
from my dream
Breakfast is a window full of clouds
with a pot of Tiger Run Spring water brewed bell sounds
so full that I burp
but walking to the causeway
I again added another meal
of autumn wind left over and eaten by lotus leaves
“chirping for more than a thousand years until it woke me / from my dream” uses an exaggeration that stretches time; the following “Breakfast is a window full of clouds / with a pot of Tiger Run Spring water brewed bell sounds / so full that I burp / but walking to the causeway / I again added another meal / of autumn wind left over and eaten by lotus leaves” is a cartoon-like absurd performance of images. The “I” in the poem is the Bai Causeway that has slept for a thousand years. Even though readers feel that the combination of images is not entirely reasonable, they can still comprehend and accept this kind of entertaining surreal performance.
〈Afternoon of Water Hyacinths〉 / Luo Fu
Afternoon. In the pond water
crowded with clusters of pregnant water hyacinths
this summer is very lonely
if it is to give birth, then give birth to a pond of frogs
ah, the problem is
we are merely falsely fat
A pond of frogs is unexpectedly born from pregnant water hyacinths; this kind of absurd continuous imagery is not exaggeration of objects, but already surreal imaginative speculation. Yet readers do not reject such strange ideas, but instead find them novel and interesting.
〈No Rain〉 / Luo Fu
long clear weather without rain
this heart has long since cracked
if you are a tear that cannot condense and drip
how much I wish
to become a fish within your eyes
“I am a fish swimming in your tears,” this of course is also a surreal imagination, but such surreal imagery gives the reader a kind of deeply emotional aesthetic feeling; the reader does not need to reject imagination with rational thinking.
〈Entering the Mountain by Rain Sound but Not Seeing Rain〉
holding up an oil-paper umbrella
singing of sour plums in March
among all the mountains
I am the only straw sandal
woodpecker empty empty
echo hollow hollow
a tree in pain from pecking rotates upward
entering the mountain
not seeing rain
the umbrella flies around a green stone
there sits a man holding his head
watching cigarette butts flick into ash
going down the mountain
still not seeing rain
three bitter pine nuts
rolling along the road sign all the way to my feet
I reach out and grab them
and unexpectedly it is a handful of bird sounds
“three bitter pine nuts / rolling along the road sign all the way to my feet / I reach out and grab them / and unexpectedly it is a handful of bird sounds,” when the three bitter pine nuts are grasped by the hand, they unexpectedly become a handful of bird sounds scattering away; this is equivalent to a magic-like scene. Even though it does not conform to common sense, it possesses a special novelty and interest.
〈Peeling a Pear at Midnight〉 / Luo Fu
cold and also thirsty
I quietly look at
on the midnight tea table
a Korean pear
it is indeed a pear
a touchably cold
shining brass-colored
pear
cut open with a knife
inside its chest
it unexpectedly hides
a very deep very deep well
trembling
thumb and index finger gently pinch
a small piece of pear flesh
white and innocent
knife falls
I bend down to look for it
ah! everywhere on the ground
is my brass-colored skin
“Peeling a Pear at Midnight” also uses montage editing: “shining brass-colored / pear / cut open with a knife / inside its chest / it unexpectedly hides / a very deep very deep well,” inside the pear core there unexpectedly is a deep well—this is the editing of two juxtaposed images. “Knife falls / I bend down to look for it / ah! everywhere on the ground / is my brass-colored skin,” what should have been the yellow skin of the pear after peeling is instead, through illusion, subjectively forced into becoming the poet’s own brass-colored skin. If viewed through cinematic editing, this passage has not only the suspense effect of montage, but also the special effect of magic.
Conclusion:
The three surreal expressive techniques—transformational composition, montage editing, and surreal performance—when applied in new poetry creation, often produce extraordinarily refined visual effects, thereby bringing readers a refreshing aesthetic imagination. In fact, if poets are willing to work hard on rhetorical techniques, to carefully refine their writing and develop creativity, and then appropriately incorporate these three types of surreal expressive techniques, the author has reason to believe that your new poetry works will surely not only refresh readers’ senses, but also make them exclaim in admiration, because you have already trained yourself into a “language magician with ever-changing tricks.”
Notes
(1) Extracted from Selected Poems of Yu Guangzhong (Volume II): 1982–1998, Yu Guangzhong, Taipei: Hongfan Bookstore, 1981, “Seven Pieces of Summer Heat in the Mountains: ‘The Sleepless Dog’.”
(2) Extracted from Selected Poems of Yu Guangzhong (Volume II): 1982–1998, Yu Guangzhong, Taipei: Hongfan Bookstore, 1981, “Listening to the Night in the Deep Mountains.”
(3) Extracted from The Snake of Yesterday, Luo Fu, Taipei: Hongfan Bookstore, 1980, “Yesterday’s Water Ginger Flower.”
(4) Extracted from Because of the Wind, Luo Fu, Taipei: Jiuge Publishing House, 1997, “Female Ghost (II).”
(5) Extracted from Two Pieces on West Lake, included in Because of the Wind, Luo Fu, Taipei: Jiuge Publishing House, 1997, “Two Pieces on West Lake: Bai Causeway.”
(6) Extracted from Driftwood, Luo Fu, Taipei: United Literature Publishing Co., 2000, “Afternoon of Water Hyacinths.”
(7) Extracted from Because of the Wind, Luo Fu, Taipei: Jiuge Publishing House, 1997, “No Rain.”
(8) Extracted from “Entering the Mountain by Rain Sound but Not Seeing Rain,” included in Because of the Wind, Luo Fu, Taipei: Jiuge Publishing House, 1997.
(9) Extracted from “Peeling a Pear at Midnight,” included in Driftwood, Luo Fu, Taipei: United Literature Publishing Co., 2000.
(10) The main quotations of Luo Fu’s works are primarily from Because of the Wind, Luo Fu, Taipei: Jiuge Publishing House, 1997; some works are from Driftwood, Luo Fu, Taipei: United Literature Publishing Co., 2000.
(11) The main quotations of Yu Guangzhong’s works are primarily from Selected Poems of Yu Guangzhong (Volume II): 1982–1998, Yu Guangzhong, Taipei: Hongfan Bookstore, 1981.
