Single Reading·18: Nothing in the City
by Wu Qi
About This Novel
London, nor any other megalopolis, no longer means a given location. Even if they must be described as centers, they are just connecting points for more convenient access to other places, extending in countless directions, and even themselves are moving away. This series of "Single Reading" is such a circuitous journey. We passed through London and entered the UK, bringing with us five contemporary writers who have not been translated into Chinese. Their works are like the scattering of light in the fields, some approaching the center of the city, some lingering on the unknown edge of Europe, some flying to islands, and some returning to their birthplace, Asia. Today's language and writing have also reached a certain bottleneck in their continuous exploration of modern life. We can only talk about love, personal loneliness, and missing meanings at every turn. In the end, they all fall into a repetitive core and minute variations in form. What we call "the city has nothing" obviously does not refer to its material emptiness, nor even its spiritual emptiness, but the so-called "urban consciousness" is no longer so ready and can no longer be arbitrarily summarized by James's hindsight. Originally, we took it for granted that these are things close at hand, and it is precisely the closer things are, the more difficult they are to describe.
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