#chineseworkers

 by Eleanor Goodman 

I have long admired these lines in Jane Hirshfield’s poem “Unnameable Heart”: “There are so many / lives of which I know nothing. / Even my own.” As a translator of Chinese literature, I frequently encounter the foreign in various guises, but over the past year I’ve had a chance to become unusually closely acquainted with five lives that bear little resemblance to my own.

The following is a poem by Chen Nianxi, a poet who appears in the independent documentary film Iron Moon, which explores the lives of workers in contemporary China:

          Demolitions Mark

Daybreak and my head feels like it’s exploding

this is the gift of a mechanized society

it isn’t the fault of steel

it’s that my nerves have grown old and feeble

 I don’t often dare look at my life

it’s hard and metallic black

angled like a pickaxe

when the rocks are hit they will bleed

 I spend my middle age five kilometers inside mountains

I explode the rocks layer by layer

to put my life back together

 My humble family

is far away at the foot of Mt. Shang

they’re sick and their bodies are covered in dust

whatever is taken from my life

extends the tunnel of their old age

 My body carries three tons of dynamite

and they are the fuse

 Last night

I exploded like the rocks

 “I spend my middle age five kilometers inside mountains”—that image alone conjures up a set of experiences that are largely alien to most of America, and especially to most American poets. The darkness, the danger, the arduous labor, the heavy machinery, the grime, the isolation. This is a man who does hard physical labor for little compensation, a person whose life is undervalued in the larger scheme of things. He works to support three generations of his family: his parents, his wife, and his child. Imagine the pressure—the explosive pressure—of doing dangerous work for low pay and with few protections, worried you won’t be paid when the job is done and knowing that even if you are the money won’t go very far, while the next job is always an uncertainty. Unlike in the United States, coalminers in China are piecemeal workers: they work one site, are paid (or stiffed by unscrupulous coalmine managers), and are set adrift again to look for more work. There is no health insurance, shamefully little recompense for injuries, and absolutely no security.

By Maggie Grimason

It was the summer of the height of my tumblr obsession (and swishy shorts and cut off t-shirts for that matter) when a trail of feminist blogs and clicks led me to the audio-only YouTube post of “Pale on Pale,” the ghostly, washed out track on Chelsea Wolfe's second studio album. The whole of Apokalypsis was instantly in my music rotation for the remainder of that marginally employed summer. The voice of Chelsea Wolfe on that 2011 album is quite different than the one on her most recent album, Abyss. Abyss equals much more than the sum of its fuzzed out guitar and thudding industrial synth, and it's Wolfe's confident voice that is the album's spine. More expansive than ever on this, decidedly the heaviest of her five studio albums, Wolfe's vocals dovetail with her guitar, reaching powerful heights on tracks like “Iron Moon” and “Dragged Out.” Abyss echoes Wolfe's earlier work, but in every track a new, broader sound is evident—alternately dense and minimal, the lyrics reveal vulnerability while Wolfe's voice never loses its power. Despite all the distance I have from that summer when I was first introduced to her music, Chelsea Wolfe remains an unfailingly captivating musician. Imagine the fluttering of my heart when I had the opportunity to speak to her in anticipation of her April 26 show at Sister.

What was the first music you made like?

I recorded my first song when I was around nine years old with Casio keyboard beats and sounds, plus my voice. My sisters [sang] backup.

You've said that, to some degree, Abyss is about your sleep and dream life. What do you dream about?

Nobody wants to hear someone else's dreams! … Abyss was written during a time when I finally had a name to put to the strange sleep and dream issues I've had since I was a kid—sleep paralysis. My version is basically waking up from a dream in the middle of the night and my eyes are open, but the figures from my dreams are still in the room with me, coming towards me. So, in some songs on Abyss I was giving a nod to that hazy in-between state and things I'd experienced there. After the album was done, I was talking to my friend Brian Cook ([of] Russian Circles) about it. He pointed out and reminded me how much … sleep paralysis had inspired my past music.

You've visited New Mexico in the past. Do you remember any impressions of the place? Or the desert in general? What landscapes resonate most with you? 

I think New Mexico is a magical place. I always like driving through that part of the country, [seeing] the giant rock formations. I look forward to coming back! I grew up in Northern California, so I've always felt most connections with trees, rivers and mountains. But I've lived in Southern California for years and now live in the high desert above LA—its so different and striking for me so I've played around a lot with photos and videos in the desert and mountains there because of that, especially in the music videos I made for “Kings” and “Carrion Flowers.”

“Iron Moon” was inspired by the poetry of Chinese Foxconn worker Xu Lizhi, who committed suicide. You've also responded to the 2011 tsunami in Japan in your music in “The Waves Have Come” on Pain is Beauty. Is your music a way of confronting tragedy or a way of coping?

Iron Moon is a documentary film and a collection of workers' poetry, meanwhile, it tells a story behind "Made in China". It follows the lives of workers behind the rise of Chinese manufacturing. Their stories and poetry affect us all, and with your help, we can bring this important film to the US and publish a corresponding poetry anthology.

In China, there are a shocking number of these workers, and a few of them, like Xu Lizhi, manage to write about their experiences in deeply moving ways. It follows five of these worker-poets through their daily lives, showing the pressures of their work, and the poverty in which many of them survive. These are the people who make up the documentary film, and whose work has been anthologized in the book Iron Moon.

Iron Moon is the first in a series of three documentary films and three corresponding anthologies of poetry that will continue the stories of the first. Iron Moon has already won major film awards in China and Taiwan, and been shown more than 700 times across 130 cities. In online forums and messaging apps alone, discussion of the film has reached more than 80 million people. It’s fair to say that with their first film, and without the support of major distribution or box office profits, filmmakers Qin Xiaoyu and Wu Feiyu have created a true cultural phenomenon in China.

The further step, American premier of Iron Moon will take place in early November, and the ultimate dream is to make it to the Oscars. The filmmakers will travel to the States to show the film in NYC and Los Angeles, as well as at major universities across the US, and to join in active discussions with viewers, students, and anyone interested in these incredible stories. The poetry anthology will be published by the prestigious literary publisher White Pine Press at the same time.

All funds will go towards the translation and publication of the Iron Moon poetry anthology; transportation and accommodation for the film team on their US tour, including showings and discussions in New Haven, Boston, New York, Durham, San Francisco and Los Angeles.

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A TV program from Phoenix TV

Host: Ai Ruiyi (H)  

Guest: Chen Nianxi (C)

H: Before exploiting, an appropriate position is the primary task. And then, filled with explosives, blasted a tunnel, this work is called tunnel demolition. Today, we introduce a poet Chen Nianxi who is a Tunnel demolitions worker, he spent 15 years in tunnel with explosive and detonator.

C: The three of us, Old Chen, Old Li, and Little Song come from Shaanxi, Sichuan, and Shandong, we work in demolitions brought together not by loyalty or friendship and definitely not by fate

Each day we drill holes, pack powder, blast, eat, sleep and feel our lives are meaningless a meal of braised pork every three days and an explosion every day give our lives the most meaning

The year before last Little Song was diagnosed with silicosis the day he died his wife used his last month’s salary to hire the town’s best band to play Wu Song’s music to send him off

Last year Old Li’s leg was taken by a capstone and the Chengdu mahjongg stalls gained a single-legged crane

 H: demolition and rock digging always follow with dust, it cannot be discharged and obstructive the lungs of the cycle ventilation function gradually, resulting in breathing difficulties or even suffocation death, which is called silicosis disease, and it is occupational disease among demolition workers. In addition, there are many unpredictable risks in the rock formation, although experienced workers can make some predictions and precautions, but permeable, landslides or occur from time to time. Chen Nianxi said that panic still seized him even with his 15 year experiences, but fortunately he learned to get to use it and endure it.

C: I have to parent my parents along with my kids, that’s what drives me. As a grown man, I have a duty to meet the essential needs of my families. Due to being away from home all year around, homesick and worries are normal, especially worried about their health condition. At the very beginning, I think I could not stand any longer to live with these worries, but then I felt responsible that I have to do well for family members and that is my direction. Thus, we got durable endurance.

I spend my middle age five kilometers inside mountains, I explode the rocks layer by layer to put my life back together

My humble family is far away at the foot of Mt. Shang they’re sick and their bodies are covered in dust whatever is taken from my life extends the tunnel of their old age

My body carries three tons of dynamite and they are the fuse

Last night I exploded like the rocks

H:  News came to him When he finished ‘Demolitions Mark’, his mother suffers from esophageal cancer, but he couldn’t get home to visit. And also, his father has been hemiplegia, only his wife take care of a family and farming. Staying Gobi Deserts and mountains all year around, most of workers prefer to get together for smoking, drinking and playing cards game. But Cheng Nianxi doesn’t like anyone, stay alone with poetry is really he thing.