Fortress Besieged

by Qian Zhongshu

  He wished he could have ripped the paper in two and seized what’s-his-name, Chief-secretary Wang, by the throat, just to see how many more of those sickening clichés of resumé writing could still be wrung out of him. No wonder Miss Su’s brother had said, “I’ve heard about you for a long time.” No wonder when his brother P’eng-t’u heard him say her name was Su, his brother knew she had a Ph.D. from abroad. And at the time he had even laughed at Miss Su for being so conventional! The item about himself was in such supreme bad taste that the stench was enough to make the reader hold his nose. Besides, Miss Su was a real Ph.D. What was he supposed to be? While on the ship he had never discussed degrees with her, but when she saw this item, she would conclude that he was a deceitful braggart. Whoever heard of a Carleton University in Germany? In his letter to his father-in-law he hinted vaguely that he had received a degree. But because the letter had been posted from Germany, his father had assumed it was a German university. When those who knew about such things heard of it, they’d laugh their heads off! He had become a fraud and would never be able to face people again!

  Noticing how her son-in-law kept holding the paper before his face, Mrs. Chou said to her husband with a smile, “See how pleased Hung-chien is. He’s read the item several times and still can’t put it down.”

  Their son Hsiao-ch’eng said mischievously, “Hung-chien is getting a close look at that Su Wen-wan. He’s thinking of marrying her to take Shu-ying’s place.”

  Fang couldn’t help from blurting out, “Don’t talk nonsense!” and barely managed to stop himself from flinging the paper to the floor. Though he prevented his anger from showing on his face, his voice was hoarse.

  When the Chous saw his unsmiling countenance and his pale face, they were a little bewildered. Then suddenly exchanging glances with each other as though they understood their son-in-law’s state of mind, they scolded their son Hsiao-ch’eng in unison, “You deserve a spanking. Who told you to interrupt when adults are talking? Your brother Hung-chien just came back today. Of course, he’s unhappy at the thoughts of your sister. Your joking can go too far. From now on, you’re to keep your mouth shut. Hung-chien, we know you have a kindly nature. Pay no attention to the child’s nonsense.”

  Fang Hung-chien again blushed crimson. Puffing out his cheeks, Hsiao-ch’eng thought resentfully, Don’t you put on! If you were any good, you’d never get married for the rest of your life. I don’t care about your pen. You can just take it back.

  When Fang returned to his room, he discovered Shu-ying’s picture was missing from the table. He thought probably his mother-in-law, afraid that he’d be reminded of Shu-ying by the picture and become too grief-stricken, had come especially to remove it.

  It had been only six or seven hours since he left the ship, yet everything that had happened there seemed to belong to another world. All his excitement about going ashore having evaporated, he felt small and weak, thinking a job would be hard to find and romance difficult to achieve. As he had pictured it, returning home after study abroad was like water on the ground turning to vapor and rising to the sky, then changing again to rain and returning to the earth, while the whole world looked on and talked about it. His return home from thousands of miles away hadn’t raised a single fleck of froth on the sea of his fellow countrymen. Now, thanks to all the blather spewing out of Chief-secretary Wang’s pen, he had been blown up into a big soap bubble, bright and colorful while it lasted but gone at a single jab.

  Leaning against the window screen he gazed outside. The stars filling the sky were dense and busy. They remained completely still, yet watching them made him think the sky was bustling noisily. The crescent moon seemingly resembled a girl that is not yet full-grown but already able to face the world unabashed. Its light and contours were fresh and sharp, gradually standing out against the night setting. The tiny insects in the garden grass hummed and buzzed, engaged in a nocturnal conversation. From somewhere a pack of frogs croaked hoarsely, their mouths, lips, throats, and tongues working in unison as though the sound waves were being stewed over a fire until they bubbled: “Brekekey Coky Coky,” like the chorus in Aristophanes’ comedies, or of Yale University’s cheerleaders. A few fireflies gracefully passed to and fro, not as if flying but as though floating in the dense atmosphere. A dark area beyond the reach of moonlight was suddenly lit up by a firefly’s speck of light, like a tiny greenish eye in the summer night. This was the scene familiar to him before going abroad; but now when he saw it, his heart suddenly contracted in pain, his eyes smarted on the verge of tears, and then he understood life’s beauty and goodness and the joy of coming home. Such things as the item in the Shanghai newspaper were no more worth troubling over than the hum of insects outside the screen. He sighed comfortably, then yawned broadly.

  When he stepped off the train at his home district station, his father, his youngest brother Feng-i, as well as seven or eight uncles, cousins, and friends of his father were all there on the platform to meet him. He was quite dismayed, and greeting each in turn said, “On such a hot day as this, I’ve really imposed on you too much.” And observing how his father’s beard had grayed, he said, “Papa, you shouldn’t have come!”

  His father, Fang Tung-weng, handed him his folding fan, saying, “You people in Western suits won’t need this antique, but it’s better than fanning yourself with a straw hat.” When he saw his son had traveled second class, he praised him. “Such a fine lad! He came back on the boat in second class, so I thought for sure he’d go first class on the train, but still he went second class. He hasn’t become haughty and proud and changed his true nature. He already knows how to conduct himself.” Everyone echoed his praise.

  They had jostled their way out of the ticket gate when suddenly a man wearing blue glasses and a Western suit caught hold of Fang Hung-chien and said, “Hold it, please! We’re taking a picture.” Bewildered, Hung-chien was just about to ask him what for, when he heard the click of a camera, and the man in blue glasses let go of his arm. There facing Hung-chien was another man pointing a camera at him. Blue Glasses pulled out his card, saying, “Did you return to China yesterday, Dr. Fang?” The man with the camera came up and he too pulled out his card. Hung-chien saw at a glance that they were reporters from two local newspapers in the district.

  The reporters both said, “You must be tired from your journey today, Dr. Fang. We’ll come to your residence tomorrow morning to learn more from you.” They then turned to pay their compliments to Mr. Fang and accompanied the Fangs and others out of the station.

  Feng-i said laughingly to Hung-chien, “You’ve become a celebrity in the district.”

  Though Hung-chien hated the way the reporters kept calling him “Dr. Fang,” which grated on his ears, seeing people so respectfully regard him as a man of importance made him swell up in mind and body and feel truly great.

  Now realizing the advantage of living in a small town, he only wished he had put on a better suit and carried a cane. With the big fan waving about in his hand and his face bathed in sweat, the picture they had taken could not possibly turn out very well.

  When he got home and saw his mother and two sisters-in-law, he distributed the gifts he had brought back.

  His mother said with a smile, “It takes going abroad to learn such thoughtfulness. He even knows how to buy things for women.”

  His father said, “P’eng-t’u mentioned a Miss Su over the phone yesterday. What’s that all about?”

  “It’s just someone who was on the same boat,” said Hung-chien crossly. “There’s nothing to it. P’eng-t’u—he likes to talk a lot.” He was about to upbraid his brother for spreading rumors, but caught himself when he saw P’eng-t’u’s wife was present.

  His father said, “We’ll have to work on your marriage. Both of your brothers were married long ago and have children. Matchmakers have already suggested several prospects, but you don’t need disgusting old creatures like us to make decisions for you. As for Su Hung-yeh, he does have a bit of repu
tation, and apparently held a few government posts in his day—”

  Hung-chien thought to himself, Why do charming girls all have fathers? She can be hidden away all by herself in one’s heart to cuddle, but when her father, uncle, and brother are dragged along with her, the girl stops being so cute and carefree and it’s not so easy to conceal her away in your heart anymore. Her charm has been mixed in with the dregs. Some people talk about marriage as though it were homosexual love. It’s not the girl they fancy, but her old man or her elder brother they admire.

  “I don’t approve,” said his mother. “It’s no good to marry an official’s daughter. She’ll want you to wait on her instead of waiting on you. Besides, a daughter-in-law should come from the same village. Girls from other districts are always a bit unsuited in temperament. You won’t be happy with her. This Miss Su is a returned student, so she couldn’t be very young.” The faces of his two sisters-in-law, who had never graduated from high school and who had been born and raised in that district, both bore an expression of agreement.

  His father remarked, “She’s not only studied abroad but has a Ph.D. I’m afraid Hung-chien couldn’t manage her,” as though Miss Su were some sort of hard object like a brick which would take the stomach of an ostrich or turkey to digest.

  “Our Hung-chien has a Ph.D., too,” protested his mother. “He’s not inferior to her, so why isn’t he a match for her?”

  Stroking his beard, his father said with a smile, “Hung-chien, that’s something your mother just couldn’t understand. Women who’ve done a little book learning are the hardest of all to handle. The man has to be a step above her, not an equal. That’s why a college graduate should marry a high school graduate, and a returned student should marry a college graduate. As for a girl who has studied abroad and received a Ph.D., no one but a foreigner would dare marry her. Otherwise, the man would have to have two doctorates at least. I’m not mistaken about that, am I, Hung-chien? It’s the same idea as ‘Marry a daughter into a greater family than your own, but take a wife from a lesser family than your own.’”

  His mother said, “Of the girls suggested by the go-betweens, the Hsus’ second daughter is the best. I’ll show you her picture later.”

  The matter is taking a serious turn, thought Hung-chien. All his life he had detested those modern girls from small towns with outdated fashions and a provincial cosmopolitanism. They were just like the first Western suit made by a Chinese tailor with everything copied from a foreigner’s old clothes used as a model down to the two square patches on the sleeves and trouser legs. No need to protest now. In a few days he would make his getaway to Shanghai.

  His father also said that there would be many receptions given in his honor, and with the weather so hot, he should be careful not to stuff himself. He must make courtesy calls to all family elders, for which his father would let him take his rickshaw. When the weather cooled off a little, his father would take him to perform the rites at his grandfather’s grave. His mother said she would have the tailor come the next day to fit him for a silk gown and pants, and for the time being his brother Feng-i had two gowns and could lend him one to wear when he went visiting.

  For dinner that evening, his mother herself prepared fried shredded eel, chicken wings in soy sauce, stewed chicken with melon, and shrimps cooked in wine—all his favorite local dishes. She picked out the best pieces for his bowl, saying, “How terrible it must have been for you, living abroad for four years with nothing to eat!”

  Everyone laughed and said she was at it again. If a person ate nothing abroad, how could Hung-chien keep from starving to death?

  She said, “I can’t understand how those foreign devils stay alive! All that bread and milk. I couldn’t eat them if they gave them to me free.”

  Hung-chien suddenly felt that in this family atmosphere the war was something unbelievable, just as no one can think of ghosts in broad daylight. His parents’ hopes and plans left no room for any unforeseen circumstances. Seeing them thus so firmly in control of the future, he too took heart and thought that maybe the situation in Shanghai would be eased, and there would be no outbreak of hostilities. And if there were, they could be brushed aside and ignored.

  When Fang Hung-chien rose from bed the next day, the two reporters had already arrived. When he saw the newspaper they had brought along with the item, “Dr. Fang Returns Home,” and the full-length picture taken the day before beside it, he felt so ashamed he couldn’t bear to look at it. Blue Glasses’ hand gripping his right shoulder showed clearly in the picture, added to which, the side view of his own startled expression made it look exactly like a photograph of someone catching a thief.

  Blue Glasses, a man of great learning, said he had long heard that Carleton University was the most famous institution of higher learning in the entire world, on a par with Tsing-hua University.5 The reporter carrying the camera asked Hung-chien what observations he had on the world situation and whether a Sino-Japanese war would break out. Fang Hung-chien finally managed to send them on their way, though not before he had written two inscriptions: “The Mouthpiece of the People,”6 for Blue Glasses’ newspaper, and “The Mirror of Truth,”7 for Camera’s newspaper.

  Just as Hung-chien was about to go out visiting, his father’s old friend, Principal Lü of the district’s provincial high school, came to invite his father, him, and his brother to breakfast the next morning at a teahouse and later asked him to give a lecture to the summer school students on “A Reevaluation of the Influences of Western Civilization on Chinese History.” Hung-chien dreaded giving lectures and was going to beg off on some pretext. Then to his chagrin his father readily accepted the invitation for him. He could only stifle a snort. In such hot weather, to have to put on a long gown and vest, speak rubbish and stink with sweat, if it isn’t a living hell, what is it? he thought. Educators sure have a different mentality from ordinary people!

  Mr. Fang, hoping his son would win praises for his “scholarly family background,” dug out from a chest several volumes of string-bound Chinese texts, such as Wen-tzu t’ang-chi,8 Kuei-ssu lei-kao,9 Ch’i-ching lou-chi,10 and T’an-ying lu,11 instructing Hung-chien to look through them carefully for his lecture material. Hung-chien read all afternoon with deep interest, greatly broadening his knowledge. He learned that the Chinese were square and honest by nature, so they said the sky was square. Foreigners were roundabout and cunning and therefore maintained that the earth was round; the heart of the Chinese was located in the center, while a Westerner’s heart tilted slightly to the left. The opium imported from the West was poisonous and should be banned. The nature of the soil in China was mild, therefore opium produced there would not be addictive. Syphilis, that is, smallpox, came from the West, and so on. Such a pity that while these items of information were all very interesting, they could not be used in the lecture. He would have to read something else.12

  That day after returning home from dinner at his uncle’s house with his eyes blurred from drink, he flipped through four or five history textbooks and worked up a draft of over one thousand words with a couple of jokes inserted. This kind of preparation did not tax his brains any, though he did lose some blood to the mosquitoes.

  The next morning at the teahouse, after he had the usual soup noodle—the fourth snack-dish to be served, Principal Lü paid the bill and urged Hung-chien to start off. Each hurriedly took his long gown from the waiter and departed. Feng-i stayed with Mr. Fang for a cup of tea.

  The school auditorium was already filled with students—over two hundred boys and girls. Accompanied to the stage by Principal Lü, Fang Hung-chien felt his whole body tingle and itch from having so many eyes focused on him, and walking became difficult. After he had seated himself on the stage, the haze before his eyes lifted, and he noticed that those sitting in the front row seemed to be the faculty. At the recording secretary’s desk set close to the stage was a girl student, the waves of whose new permanent were so stiff that they seemed to have been painted on. Everyo
ne in the auditorium was whispering back and forth, appraising him with great curiosity. He silently enjoined his cheeks, Don’t blush! You mustn’t turn red! He regretted having removed his sunglasses when he entered. With two pieces of black glass in front of his eyes, it would have seemed as though he too were hidden in heavy darkness, and he would have felt less embarrassed.

  Principal Lü was already delivering his introduction. Hung-chien hastily reached into the pocket of his gown to feel around for his lecture notes only to find they were missing. He broke out in a nervous sweat. Oh, no! he thought. How could I have lost something so important? When I left the house I distinctly remember putting them into the pocket of my gown. Except for a few opening sentences, he, in his fright, had forgotten the rest of his speech. He searched his memory for all he was worth, but it was like trying to hold water in a sieve. Once he grew panicky, he couldn’t focus his attention. His threads of thought would get knotted up, then come loose. A few vague facts remained, but it was like waiting for a person in a busy place. You catch a glimpse of someone in the crowd who looks like him, only to find he’s gone when you go over to get him. Just as his mind was playing “hide-and-seek,” Principal Lü bowed and asked him to speak. This was followed by a round of applause. He had just stood up when he noticed Feng-i rushing into the auditorium, breathless. Seeing that the lecture had already begun, Feng-i found an empty seat and sat down in despair. Hung-chien suddenly realized that as he was leaving the teahouse, he had put on Feng-i’s gown by mistake. Both gowns belonged to Feng-i and were of identical color and material. Such being the case, he’d just have to screw up his courage, brace himself, and spout some nonsense.