In Memory of Toby Eady | 追忆托笔先生
Written by: Wu Fan ｜ 吴帆
Translated by: Chenlin Wang
Editor’s Note:
This article is excerpted from Haha! Britain — a charitable bilingual publication co-produced by The Mothers’ Bridge of Love (MBL) and River Cam Breeze. The book is a lively collaboration between 42 Chinese authors living in the UK and 36 university-based volunteer translators. With wit and warmth, the stories capture the everyday realities of Chinese communities in Britain, offering an honest look at the cultural clashes, humour, and adaptation that arise in the space between Chinese and British ways of life. Haha! Britain has been warmly endorsed by several well-known figures in UK-China relations, including Stephen Perry (former Chairman of the 48 Group Club), Luise Schäfer OBE (former British diplomat and Chamber of Commerce chair), Professor Hugo De Burgh (former BBC editor and academic), and British scholar Martin Jacques. The book’s title was handwritten by celebrated British-Chinese artist Qu Leilei, its cover illustrated by bestselling Chinese author and poet Feng Tang, and the postscript contributed by Xue Mo, a prominent voice in contemporary Chinese literature.
Illustrated by Tian Tian
I have mixed feelings about the United Kingdom. In my teenage years, the works of Dickens, Maugham, Woolf, Orwell and the Brontë sisters opened my eyes to the UK, and since then my bookshelf has gradually filled with the worksof Kazuo Ishiguro, V.S. Naipaul, Ian McEwan and Julian Barnes. Although I had never been to the UK, I felt I learned quite a lot about the history, culture and people’s daily life. I visited the UK three times later in my life, but to myembarrassment, each visit was brief. My real-life experiences in the UK are like the pieces of a jigsaw, rather than a scrollpainting which depicts a continuous narrative. However, Toby Eady, my first literary agent, put those pieces together. Thepatterns depicted on these pieces by Toby have influenced my life, and always make me feel warm and grateful.
A few weeks ago, my British publisher invited me to meet my readers in the UK next summer for my new book, SoulsLeft Behind. Seven years were spent on this long historical novel, and it tells the story of 140,000 Chinese labourers recruitedto Europe during World War I. The call with the publisher reminded me of Toby. I didn’t have the chance to discuss thisbook with him before he passed, but I often thought of him during the writing process. He was the one who introduced me to the Western publishing world and encouraged me to listen to my inner voice when writing.
My first visit to England was nearly 20 years ago. At that time, I was looking for a literary agent for my first Englishnovel. After years of working full-time at a high-tech company in Silicon Valley by day and staying up late to write at night,I was quite exhausted, but finding a literary agent was even more excruciating. In many Western countries, literary agents are known as the “gatekeepers of book publishing”, and authors must secure a suitable agent to represent their works topublishers, which is, in writers’ eyes, harder than finding a soulmate.
After nearly a year of seeking an agent in the US, I received nothing but rejections, mainly because my book wastoo “Chinese” to attract readers in the West. A few agents even suggested I make some changes to suit the Western market. As a last effort, I wrote an email to a small but renowned literary agency in the UK, introducing my novel andattaching the first three chapters. To my surprise, a few days later, I received a reply from Toby, the founder of thisprestigious agency, asking why I was seeking an agent in the UK. I explained my reasons and sent him the electronicversion of the entire manuscript as he requested. Although the seed of hope sprouted in my heart, I did not expect the flower to bloom. Writers know that even if a literary agent asks to read their entire manuscript, their decision is almost always a “no”.
A few days later, my phone rang early in the morning at around five o’clock. Worried that something had happened to my parents or relatives in China, I jumped out of bed in a panic to answer the phone. I instinctively said “Hello” inChinese as I picked up the phone. After a few seconds of silence, a slow, solemn voice with a thick British accent came from the other side. He said something, but my brain’s language conversion function had not yet kicked in, so I was lost,thinking he might have dialled the wrong number. He continued to speak slowly, as if it were David Attenborough on theline. Then I understood – it was Toby! He said he had read my manuscript and loved it, and was inviting me to London to meet him as soon as possible. He always insisted on meeting the writer in person before deciding on representation. I asked my boss for leave, and a week later, I arrived in London, and stayed at the home of Toby and his wife Xinran.
I don’t remember the weather or how the streets looked that day in London, but my first impression of Toby is clearlyimprinted in my mind. He was the kind of scholarly, noble Englishman I had imagined (I later learned he indeed came from anoble family with ties to the royal family). He was in his early sixties at that time, tall and strong. His hair was silver, his stepswere firm, and his words were delivered with grace and gravitas. Sometimes he would look into the distance with his sharp but kind eyes, as if spotting treasures unseen by others. His sneezes were forceful, and his laughter childlike. His home was elegant and full of charm, filled with books and artworks. A vase of fresh yellow daffodils was on the kitchentable, and on his bookshelves, I noticed the familiar works of many Chinese authors.
Shortly after I arrived, he started discussing my manuscript and the current state of literature in China and the West,asking me a series of questions. He mentioned not only his visits to China – his first visit in the 1970s, then several more since, but also Western publishing’s misconceptions about China and the biases of Western readers. There was greatpassion and excitement in his voice. I was surprised that a person who did not know how to speak Chinese had such a deeplove and understanding of China. A few hours later, I met his wife, Xinran, a renowned writer and senior media professional.We had a great chat, regretting not having met each other earlier, and I realised her significant influence on Toby. They were arare pair of soulmates in the publishing world, a combination of Eastern and Western cultures.
Early the next morning, Toby got up. Seeing me unable to sleep due to jet lag, he invited me to take a walk in HydePark, which seemed to be his daily routine. Before leaving, he offered me a freshly baked croissant. As we made our waydown the bustling streets of London, he walked confidently, hands behind his back, as if he were in a realm of his own. Pedestrians moved around him like water around a rock. If a mountain had blocked the way, I believe Toby would have cracked a tunnel with his presence. As the leaves swayed in the soft breeze, songbirds crafted an enchanting melody thatdanced through the air and Hyde Park’s beauty regaled us in the background. But my attention was focused on my conversation with Toby. I was not used to his British accent, and his speech was peppered with many references, as if he were a professor. I would get lost if I zoned out. On top of that, I had to walk quickly to keep up with him. Before I knew it,we had reached the Serpentine. Seeing the swans swimming leisurely, he slowed down. A childlike smile spread across his faceas he said, “Look at them, aren’t they extraordinary?”
I returned to the US two days later to continue my day job, but my life was forever changed after meeting Toby. In just two weeks, he sold the English rights of my manuscript to publishing giant Macmillan, and secured rights in several otherlanguages. A year later, with his help, my short story, Year of the Monkey, was published in the prestigious British literarymagazine Granta, and another short story almost made it to The New Yorker (later published in Ploughshares).
My second visit to the UK was for the launch of my new book, February Flowers. Toby and Xinran hosted acelebration party at their home, where I met several British publishers, media people and writers. Before that party, I hadattended reader events and literary festivals in Sydney, Melbourne, Singapore, Hong Kong and Beijing. At the party, Toby andXinran always kept a watchful eye on the details. Seeing them flitting around the party, I was so grateful to have met such wonderful mentors and friends. I stayed in the UK for more than a week. Besides the party and reader events at bookstores,I toured some sights in London and the countryside with Toby and Xinran, which was a feast for my eyes and my mind.
Toby was an idealist. He represented many writers, including the famous bestselling author, Bernard Cornwell. Yet, he believed that representing ten good books in his lifetime was enough and that a writer should spend at least seven or eight years on one good piece of work. At the same time, he was a realist, understanding that for a writer to survive in the competitive, ever- changing publishing world, they needed to produce new works at least every three years, or evenevery one to two years. As one of the few Western literary agents representing Chinese writers, he had a profoundunderstanding of the translation bottleneck and cultural dislocation between East and West. When I asked if he had any recommendations on what I should write about, he firmly said, “Listen to the call deep within your heart.” When he wasreading the first draft of my second novel, Beautiful as Yesterday, he often called me to discuss the historical background, plotand characters. Although sometimes he disagreed with my views, he always patiently listened to my explanations.
In the following years, I continued to be one of Toby’s authors and assisted him and Xinran in promoting cultural exchanges between Chinese and Western publishing. I travelled with them to China multiple times. In the Chinese publishing world, people who were familiar with Toby called him “Da Tuo” (Big Toby in English). I still remember thatautumn day when we visited Professor Feng Jicai at Tianjin University. As the rain continued its rhythmic patter, the leavesdrifted downwards, their descent slow and almost hypnotic. Carried by the breeze, each one twirled, spiralled, and finallyrelinquished itself to the ground. Walking on the campus, Toby seemed lost in thought, gazing into the distance, speaking only a little, with his black coat billowing in the wind. The image of him standing with an air of quiet confidence stuck inmy mind. Years later, when I learned he was battling an illness, I couldn’t believe the bad news. He was the vibrant,passionate Toby! His sneezes could shake a room! How could he have cancer?
My third visit to the UK was in 2018. Toby had passed away on Christmas Eve a year earlier. Xinran picked me up atthe train station. She looked frail and sad, with many new silver hairs on her head. Since Toby fell ill, she had been his secretary, nutritionist, and nurse. The next day, we went to his graveyard. He rested beneath the grass among the trees,with a black marble square tombstone embedded in the ground, carved with open book pages. On the left page, it reads:“Son of Mary Wesley and Heinz Ziegler/ Husband and soulmate of Xinran.” On the right page, it reads: “Man of letters – Wise, Generous, Loyal.” At the foot of the left page was a bouquet of yellow daffodils, and at the foot of the right page is a cute little bird perching on a branch. The tombstone was surrounded by white geraniums, daisies and pine cones. A gentlebreeze blew, and a flock of small birds fluttered from the trees, soaring across the blue sky. Xinran often mentioned herspiritual connection with Toby. Among that flock of birds, could there be his reincarnation?
Dear Toby, shall we meet in the UK again next year?
About the author
Wu Fan, a Chinese-American bilingual writer, graduated from Sun Yat-sen University, and later studied at StanfordUniversity. She is a volunteer and board member of MBL, and a founding member of the California-based nonprofit organisation Society of Heart’s Delight (Yuyuanshe). Formerly employed at a high-tech company in Silicon Valley, she isnow engaged in writing, book reviews and philanthropic work. Being translated into ten languages, and published in overtwenty countries, her novels have been selected for the TARGET BOOKMARK and San Francisco Chronicle’s list of best books. Fan’s latest book, Souls Left Behind, published by Huacheng Publishing House, was selected for the 2023 Annual Listof Outstanding Chinese Literature in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Macao and Overseas.
说到英国，我感觉既熟悉又陌生。青少年时期，狄更斯、毛姆、伍尔夫、奥威尔、勃朗特姐妹等作家的作品开启了我关于英国的启蒙教育。此后，我的书架上陆续出现了石黑一雄、奈保尔、麦克尤恩以及巴恩斯等作家的作品。那时我虽然还没有去过英国，但感觉似乎了解了不少英国的历史人文，日常生活和英国人的喜怒哀乐。令人惭愧的是，我其实总共只去过英国三次，而且每次时间都不长。我在真实世界里的英国经历是一个个分散的小片段，而不是人物场景连绵不断的卷轴画。它们都和我的第一位文学代理人托笔·伊迪先生相关。这些片段影响了我的人生，每次想到它们，我心里都充满暖意和感恩之情。
几个星期前，我的英国出版人邀请我明年夏天去英国参加我的新书《被遗忘的灵魂》读者见面会。这本七年磨一剑的长篇历史小说写的是“一战”期间英法招募的十四万中国华工赴欧的故事。和出版人通完电话后，我眼前浮现出托笔先生的身影。虽然他在世的时候，我没有机会和他谈及这本书的写作，但在写作过程中我时常想起他。是他让我走进了西方的出版界，也是他鼓励我在写作时要听从内心的呼唤。
第一次去英国是近 20 年前的事了。那时我正在为我的第一本英文小说寻找文学代理。那时，连续几年白天全职在硅谷高科技公司上班，晚上熬夜写作的生活让我颇为疲倦。在很多欧美国家，作家要通过有“出版界把关人”之称的文学代理才有可能把作品递到出版社编辑的手中。作家圈里有这么个说法，找到合适的文学代理比找到理想伴侣都难。在美国尝试找代理人近一年，我收到的答复都是拒绝，拒绝的理由多半是认为这本书过于中国化，很难在西方找到读者。有几位代理人甚至建议我做某些修改以便适合西方市场。抱着做最后一次努力的打算，我给英国的一家小型却很有名气的文学代理公司写了封邮件，介绍我的小说，并附上了前三个章节。几天后，我居然收到在业界享有盛誉的代理公司创办人托笔先生的回复，问我为什么要到英国找代理。我实话实说了，并按他的要求把整本书稿的电子版发给了他。虽然当时希望的种子在心里发芽，但我不认为会有什么结果。作家们都知道一个不争的事实，即使文学代理读了作家寄来的书稿，绝大多数情况下他们的决定是一个“否”字。
几天后的一个清晨，大约五点多，我的电话铃响了。担心在国内的父母或是亲人出了什么事，我慌慌张张从床上跳起来接电话。一拿到电话，就用中文习惯性地说，“喂”。电话另一头沉默了几秒钟后传来一位男士缓慢庄重，带着浓重的英国口音的声音。他慢条斯理地说了点什么，但是那时我的大脑的语言转换功能还没有开启，所以我一下懵了，想着他也许是打错电话了。他接着又说了些话，依旧不紧不慢，好像是大卫·爱登堡在做关于自然界的富有说服力的演讲。这下我听明白了。原来他是托笔先生！他说他读了我的书稿，非常喜欢，邀请我尽快到伦敦和他见面，还说他有个原则，那就是必须见到作家后才决定代理事宜。当天我向公司老板请假，一个星期后抵达了伦敦，就住在托笔先生和他的太太欣然女士家里。
到达英国那天，天气如何，一路什么街景，我现在全然不记得，但我很清楚地记得托笔先生给我的第一印象。他是我想象中那种学识渊博、带着贵族气质的老牌英国人（我后来得知他果然来自和王室有渊源的英国贵族家庭）。他六十出头，满头银发，身材高大，步伐坚定，目光锐利但又透着宽容。他说话富有权威性，有时视线会投向远方，好像那里有其他人看不到的宝藏。他打起喷嚏来力道十足，笑起来脸上则带着孩子气。他的家里雅致又充满情趣，到处都是书和艺术品，厨房餐桌的花瓶里插着一束鲜润的黄水仙。我特意留心了一下书架上的书，发现其中有不少我熟悉的中国作家的作品。我进门没多久，他就和我聊起了我的书稿以及中西文学现状，并问了一连串的问题。他谈到自己 70 年代就去过中国，此后又多次访问过。他谈到西方出版界对中国的误区以及西方读者的偏见。说到兴起处，他洋洋洒洒，声音充满激情，让我很惊叹也很诧异一个不会说中文的西方人对中国有如此深沉的爱和深度的了解。几个小时后，我见到他的太太——知名作家和资深媒体人欣然女士。我和欣然一阵畅聊，有相见恨晚之意，同时我也意识到她对托笔先生的巨大影响。他们是出版界难得的中西合璧的知音夫妇。
第二天一大早，托笔先生就起身了，看到我因倒时差无法入眠而在客厅看书，便邀我一起去附近的海德公园走走。看来这是他的例行晨练。出门前，他还请我吃了刚买的新鲜出炉的羊角包。走在人来人往的大街上，他手背在身后，气宇轩昂，大步流星，仿佛进入无人之境。两旁的行人如遇到礁石的水流一样绕他而过。如果前面有座挡路的山，我想托笔先生也会以他的气势硬生生直通通开辟出一条隧道。海德公园树影婆娑，草地如茵，飞鸟蹁跹，其中美景自然不消说。不过我的注意力都放在和托笔先生的谈话上。我还不习惯他的英国口音，再加上他如教授上课一般旁征博引，我一走神可能就接不上趟了。何况我这个小个子还要加快脚步才能跟得上他的速度。不知不觉我们走到九曲湖。看到悠闲戏水的天鹅们，他的脚步放慢了，脸上绽开了天真的笑容，说，“你看看，它们是不是非凡的物种！”
两天后我返回美国继续做我的上班族，然而，我的生活因为和托笔先生的相遇而永远地改变了。短短两个星期，他不光把我的书稿英文版权卖给了出版业巨头麦克米伦，还同时签售了多个语种的版权。一年后，通过他的牵线搭桥，我的短篇小说《猴年》在英国老牌文学杂志《格兰特》发表，而另一部短篇小说差点入围《纽约客》（后发表在 Ploughshares 杂志上）。
第二次去英国是参加我的新书《二月花》在英国的发布会。托笔先生还有已与我成为好友的欣然在他们家给我举办了庆祝会。此前的一段时间，我在悉尼、墨尔本、新加坡、香港还有北京参加了当地读者见面会和文学艺术节。庆祝会上我碰到好些英国的出版人、媒体人和作家。觥筹交错之间我看着托笔先生和欣然忙碌的身影，庆幸自己碰到了良师挚友。这次英国之行有一个多星期，在庆祝会以及书店里和读者见面会之余，我随着托笔先生和欣然游玩了伦敦及郊外的一些景点。我们一路走一路谈，尽享眼福和耳福。
托笔先生是个理想主义者，他代理了很多作家，其中包括赫赫有名的畅销书作家伯纳德·康威尔（BernardCornwell）。但他却认为他这一生能做十本好书足矣，还说作家要写出一部好作品至少得花七八年。但同时他又是个现实主义者，知道作家要在竞争激烈、变幻莫测的出版界站住脚，那么每两三年甚至一两年就要有新作品。作为西方出版界少有的代理华人作家的文学代理人，他对翻译瓶颈和中西文化错位有极其深刻的认知。当我问他是否建议我写某些题材的时候，他很坚定地说，“听从你内心深处的呼唤。”在阅读我的描述美国华人移民家庭的第二部长篇小说《美丽如昨》初稿期间，他常和我通话，讨论书中的历史背景，情节还有人物。虽然他有时并不赞同我的观点，但他总是耐心地倾听我的解释。
此后多年，我不光是托笔先生代理的作家，也协助他和欣然从事中西出版交流的工作，并和他们一起多次访问中国。在中国出版界，熟悉托笔先生的人常常亲切地称他为“大托”。有一次，我和托笔先生和欣然一起去天津大学看望冯骥才老师。那天秋风萧瑟，雨意阑珊，一路上落叶纷纷扬扬。走在校园里，托笔先生似乎想着什么心思，他凝神远望，少言寡语，步履匆匆，身上黑色大衣的衣摆随风飘动，竟有些古代侠客的风范。不知怎地，这个画面定格在我的脑海里。数年后，当我得知他在和病魔做斗争时，我一时无法相信这个噩耗。他是笑声朗朗，激情满怀的大托呀！他打起喷嚏来能震住一房间的人！他怎么会得癌症呢？
第三次去英国是在 2018 年。一年前的平安夜，托笔先生驾鹤西去。欣然在火车站接我，她看上去瘦弱憔悴，头上多出了不少银丝。大托自生病以来，她既是他的秘书、营养师，也是护士。第二天我们去了大托的墓园。大托沉睡于树木之间的草地下，嵌在地里的黑色大理石方形墓碑上雕刻着翻开的书页，左页上写着：玛丽·威斯利和海因茨·齐格勒之子／欣然之丈夫及知音。右页上写着：热爱文学之人——睿智，慷慨，忠诚。左页脚是一束黄水仙，右页脚是一只栖息在树枝上的可爱小鸟。墓碑周围环绕着白色的天竺葵和雏菊，还有如峰塔一般的松果。清风微拂，一群小鸟从树丛间扑棱棱飞起，划过蓝色的天空。欣然常提到她和大托的心灵感应。那群飞鸟之中是不是有大托的化身？
亲爱的大托，明年咱们英国见，好吗？
作者介绍
吴帆，美籍华裔双语作家，毕业于中山大学，后赴斯坦福大学留学。母爱桥志愿者及董事，硅谷公益组织愉园社创始成员。曾任职于硅谷高科技公司，现从事写作，书评和公益事业。她的长篇小说被翻译成十种文字，在二十多个国家出版发行，并入选美国《目标书签》（TARGET BOOKMARK）及《旧金山纪事报》（San Francisco Chronicle）佳作书单。吴帆的新书《被遗忘的灵魂》由花城出版社出版，荣登 2023 年度台港澳暨海外华文文学好作品名录。
Both the Chinese and English editions of Haha! Britain can be purchased at the following platforms:
· BOOK FAN