Now you ask me why I felt it yesterday of all days. Why not a week ago, a month ago, or a year ago, as your mother did, maybe? I don’t know. I can’t answer that question. I only know that there are no shortcuts in life, no matter how much we long for them, and that everyone goes at their own speed and that any attempt to significantly influence this speed in any way either fails or exacts a high price. My path to this feeling went via the route of separation from your mother, living in Lamma, endless hours of loneliness, a dead young American man, and, most importantly, Christine, who I have always written a great deal about to you. This path took me exactly three years, two months, and eleven days.
I remember that our doctor, Doctor Li, predicted something like this in the days after you died, but I rejected what he said brusquely. No, more than that, I was really angry because I found the very thought a betrayal of you, of my sorrow. How was a person who had just been robbed of his son by death to feel grateful? That was asking too much.
So, it’s almost time to stop now, for I still have to go to the village to get my groceries. I’m expecting visitors in the late afternoon. You won’t believe it, but Christine and her son, Josh, are coming and Zhang and his wife, Mei, are coming too, with their son, Zheng. Of course I’m quite excited about it. I’ve never had more than two people at a time come to visit on Lamma and I hope that this won’t be too much for me. These friends are all I have left, and I want very much for them to meet. Will they like each other? Will they have anything to say to each other? I feel the way you used to before one of your birthday parties.
Mei moved back in with Zhang again two weeks ago, I think. She loves him so much that she couldn’t do anything other than forgive him eventually. They want to make him the head of the homicide division, by the way, but I don’t know if that would be the right thing for him. I made up with him a few weeks ago. Christine was right, and it’s good when Chinese philosophers sometimes get it wrong—trust that is lost can be regained.
Don’t be sad, but this could be the last letter for some time, for I feel as if I have told you everything now.
“Paul, life goes on,” your mother said to me once, and I was terribly appalled by that, because it sounded heartless to me, like she wanted to forget. But that’s not possible. You’ve become a part of me. The person who is writing these words would not exist without you. You have no idea how rich you have made me. Life, though very different now, does go on, and that’s good.
It’s the only answer we have.
With love,
Your Daddy
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is fiction. The plot and characters are imaginary. I got the ideas for them on the many journeys I have made to China since 1995. I was also inspired to write this novel by the innumerable conversations that I had with friends, acquaintances, and strangers in China and in Hong Kong, where I lived for a time. Countless people helped me on my travels and with my research, and I feel incredibly grateful to them for their trust, their openness, and their support. Special thanks go to Zhang Dan, Ted Fishman, Clara and Derick Tam, Paul Chiu, Bessie Du, Angela and Carsten Schael, Lamy Li, Greg Davis, Aaron Fu, Werner Havers, and Thomas Bohlander for their help. Also to my parents and my sister, Dorothea.
I owe my wife, Anna, a very special thank-you. She gave me her advice, her encouragement, and her suggestions at every stage of this manuscript, and was an indispensable help to me. It is her love that has made this book possible.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jan-Philipp Sendker, born in Hamburg in 1960, was the American correspondent for Stern from 1990 to 1995, and its Asian correspondent from 1995 to 1999. In 2000 he published Cracks in the Wall, a nonfiction book about China. The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, his first novel, was an international bestseller. He lives in Berlin with his family.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Christine Lo is an editor in book publishing in London. She has also worked as a translator in Frankfurt and translated books by Juli Zeh and Senait Mehari from German into English. Her most recent translation is Atlas of Remote Islands by Judith Schalansky.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by Karl Blessing Verlag
Copyright © 2009 by Wilhelm Heyne Verlag
English language translation copyright © 2015 by Christine Lo
Originally published in German as Das Flüstern der Schatten in 2007 by Random House Germany.
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The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
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ISBN 978-1-4767-9366-5 (ebook)
Whispering Shadows Page 34
