The most-heard line across China in the past week was ''Have you ever read a Mo Yan book?'' The question echoed in walkways, elevators and my office canteen. In Beijing, his books have been sold out since last Friday, shortly after he was announced the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. The Wall Street Journal immediately ran an excerpt of his new book which will be launched in January, while the share price of Xinhua Media, a partner of Shanghai Literature & Art, one of Mo's publishers, rose 10% in a single day's trade.
Needless to say, people in China are overjoyed with the Nobel Committee's decision this year. The excitement and obsession with the Nobel prize _ now nicknamed ''Mobel'' _ again serves as validation of China's significance in the world. ''He is the first Chinese person to win the Nobel prize,'' my friend said in a proud voice. But how about the other two, I asked? Doesn't your country have three Nobel laureates?
''At least, we want to honour the one who holds Chinese citizenship. Shouldn't we?'' My friend meant Gao Xingjian, China-born writer and French citizen who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2000. ''And how about Liu Xiabo?'' I asked about the winner of the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize, who was jailed when the award was conferred and has been there since. There was no answer, and it was not surprising. It was reported that websites like Sina Weibo have blocked searches for certain words and phrases like ''Nobel Peace Prize''. In China's collective thought, Mo is the first Nobel laureate from the People's Republic of China. The wait is over.
This time, the government can sigh with relief as it does not have to look bad before the crucial Communist Party of China meeting next month.
The Nobel prize has been a thorny issue since it was bestowed on Gao, an artist and dissident who has exiled himself to France. During 2010, the decision to honour Liu tarnished diplomatic ties with the Norwegian government. It was reported that a salmon shipment from Norway was blocked and left to rot.
But Mo's win signifies more than China's endless craving for validation.
Mo has long been known as writer who toed the government line. Indeed, he was a soldier in the People's Liberation Army. He penned his career-defining Red Sorghum in the army. So, the author has known well where the line is drawn and never walked across it.
For dissidents he is a state artist, but for others he is a subtle writer who knows how to zigzag censorship and tell the truth through metaphors and stories without resorting to direct criticism.
His win has prompted big questions: Can an artist from China be famous without having to attack their own government? Is it possible for artists to create great work in a place where the government meddles and controls their freedom? The larger question is: What is the role of art and the role of the artist under certain political systems?
The Chinese have their answers.
In Sina Weibo, a message said: ''At last, this prize was disconnected from politics.'' Another: ''Finally, a Chinese artist can be famous without having to attack [the] Communist government.''
Perhaps, for them, Mo's victory gives them hope that creativity can grow in a country best known for lacking freedom.
On another side, Ai Weiwei _ now the most famous dissident _ scoffed at Mo by saying: ''The Nobel organisers have removed themselves from reality.''
It will be a month or even more, when I can join the ''Mobel'' bandwagon _ after reading Mo's book or even being able to obtain a copy. I know what I will find in his book. No political hot potatoes. No deriding those ''princelings'' _ a term used to describe political elites. No subjects criticising the Cultural Revolution, government policies, the luxurious lifestyle of the ruling class or human rights violations.
Mo's books are famous because they show _ through the craft of storytelling _ hardship in China. They're about poverty, class struggle, and the plight of daily life. Indeed, his book The Garlic Ballads was banned before the Tiananmen protest in 1989.
So I expect his books will be devoid of any critical view of human rights. It will be a work that reflects a Chinese man, a product of the Cultural Revolution, who has been brought up to follow the leader and remain quiet, like 1.3 billion of his compatriots.
Is his art lacking beauty and value simply he lacks a dissident's spine? You decide.
Perhaps there is more than one way to tell a story and certainly more than one way to rebel. After all, the latest Nobel literature laureate is an author whose pen name means ''Don't Speak'' in Mandarin.
Anchalee Kongrut is a writer for Life, currently based in Beijing on the FK journalist exchange programme.