Rooms with an Ocean View

Bleak and translucent, sharp as a blade
Huang Li-chun's Short Story Collection - A Reissue

"Li-chun is exactly like this: her talent is lush and exquisitely beautiful, but a chill subtly permeates that beauty. Her words are warm like the sun, yet swift as wind and rain. On a serene, pleasant afternoon, one might still feel the warmth and joy of peaceful times, but in an instant, an unforeseen dark cloud descends, and torrential rain pours down. Upon regaining their senses and recomposing themselves, readers will naturally arrive at their own understanding. At that moment, this mysterious, wistful, and uniquely eerie flower will bloom and spread in the reader's heart." ──Ko Yu-fen

"Amidst the consistently refreshing and gentle customs of human affection, the author, line by line, uncovers the humble groans in our hearts. Life inherently holds more suffering than joy; we constantly walk in a dark world, occasionally spotting a flower-like hope, and instinctively reach out.
Li-chun's novels let us hear another kind of 'why not' question: why can't pure love be hard to swallow? Why can't despair be mundane and trivial? The unhurried, unpretentious, and understated nature revealed in her novels, conversely, creates a unique theme: the beautiful shattering." ──Kuo Chiang-sheng

Writing novels requires such sharp eyes and a calm mind. If one's nature weren't so sensitive and delicate, it would probably be impossible to dispassionately and directly write about the various superficialities, resentments, and indignities of the human world. To meticulously dissect the terrifying human condition, allowing people to see its darkness and vulgarity, yet also admire the precise and beautiful craftsmanship—that is true talent.
A good novelist's writing can sometimes be ornate, sometimes thrilling, always capable of penetrating the reader's veins and arteries. Like the needles in "The Room by the Sea" that are inserted into a woman's body. Or like the computer in "The Dream Weaver," the pair of hands in "Cat Sickness," a certain night in "The Virgin as Jade"—all so bizarre yet so natural. Because they are mechanisms hidden in our real lives; if we accidentally trigger them, none of us can guarantee we won't become the perverts and lunatics of this society.
Yet, in Huang Li-chun's writing, all of this is so gentle, without grotesque or ugly words piled up. It is precisely because of the calm lyricism that the horror and absurdity become even more pronounced.

Huang Li-chun's short story collection, "The Room by the Sea," celebrates its twelfth anniversary this year. This novel, considered a textbook-level work, has influenced countless fiction writers over the past decade. It collects thirteen brilliant short stories, each word and sentence refined. No matter how many times one rereads them, no flaws can be found; they remain captivating and immersive. Times Publishing is reissuing it as a classic复刻版, and has added a new afterword, offering a glimpse into the female author's creative journey over the years.