by You Jin
When the Shanghai book signing tour had successfully wrapped up, Ms Wang and I took the train to Hangzhou. By the time we arrived, it was night.
The next book signing was arranged for Wednesday morning. That was when all the students were at school and all the adults were at work. I thought, If there are over a hundred readers, that will be good.
When we reached the bookstore, the manager invited us upstairs. He said nervously, “The electricity might be out this morning. We have prepared some candles.”
Upon hearing this, instead of feeling displeased, I was happy. Signing books under flickering tongues of fire!
We could hear some noises every now and then coming from downstairs. At nine o’clock sharp, as we made our way downstairs, the lights suddenly went out. An eerie darkness fell over the bookstore. They really had cut the electricity. At this moment, the noise multiplied ten times. I tried to look into the distance from the foot of the stairs. All I saw was a sea of dark heads, with coils of people in line waiting to buy books. The line was so long it wound and turned so that I could not even see its end.
I sat beside a candle spitting out golden flames and signed one book after another for the devoted readers. They had waited a long time, but still remained cheerful. Their sincerity was deeply touching. I learned that some had come at seven that morning, patiently joining the long queue outside the bookstore even before it opened. I also learned that some university students had skipped classes to be there, and that some readers had travelled over on the early train from Shanghai just to buy my book and get it signed. My heart was overwhelmed with waves of tender fluttering.
The next day, two reporters, Qu Gang and Sun Jianhua, wrote an article entitled “You Jin in Hangzhou”, which said:
You Jin’s book signing at the Xinhua Bookstore in Hangzhou yesterday morning attracted a huge crowd of readers. Before the bookstore even opened, a long queue formed outside. The book signing started in the shop, but the electricity went out suddenly, so television reporters were not able to broadcast the event as planned. Around 10.00, You Jin was invited to move to the open space in front of the shop to continue the book signing in an even livelier setting.
By 11.30, when she had been signing books for two hours and used up six pens, You Jin bade her readers goodbye according to the plan, but over a hundred readers were still waiting outside who were not able to get autographed books. Workers at the store explained that it was lunchtime and that You Jin had another event to attend at 12.00. The devoted readers replied that they would continue to queue to wait for her, pleading for the author to return after lunch to sign their books. You Jin, who had already left the bookstore showroom at this time, was touched when she heard the news. She stayed in the office and signed more copies for these readers. It was 12.30 when she finally left the bookstore. According to reports by the bookstore, in the three-hour book signing, You Jin autographed over 2000 books.
Book Signing
In 1992, the Sichuan Arts Publishing House snapped up five of my works, including the collection of short essays, A Delicate Life, which had been reprinted several times, a travel book Life on the Checker Board, a short story collection Jade Bangle, a collection of essays Life in the Lamp Shadow, and a collection of personal essays, translated into English as Mum is Where the Heart Is.
In the windy month of September, I flew to Chengdu for a book signing tour. The almost explosive reception I got during the book signing will always be an extremely warm driving force for my writing.
Two reporters from Chengdu, Mao Yan and Zhang Shu, wrote an article entitled “A Scholar Known by All”. The first paragraph read:
Bringing with her the Singaporean sea breeze, You Jin made her first visit, appearing at the Xinhua Bookstore on South Renmin Road yesterday, among a crowd of readers. Many of these readers had arrived two hours before the event to join the queue, forming a line a hundred meters long. At 10.00 sharp, a commotion stirred up and people shouted, “That’s You Jin!” She wore a white cotton and linen suit, with a red collar, and on her face was a smile familiar to her readers. She appeared before the crowd, under the “protection” of the proprietor and editor of the Sichuan Arts Publishing House. The crowd stirred like waves, emitting ear-splitting cheers. Several sturdy store employees, maintained order with the help of police, opening the glass door just a crack, waiting to “battle” the crowd as they solemnly guarded the door. You Jin was experiencing the explosive ardour of Chengdu’s readers for the first time.5
The article concluded,
When the signing had been going on for three hours, it started to rain. One loyal reader expressed his delight, saying it was sure to disperse the crowd. To his disappointment, everyone simply pulled out their umbrellas, filling the road with a rainbow of colours. When it was nearly 2.00 in the afternoon, the bookstore had sold almost half of the 5000 books it had prepared for the event. The staff was so exhausted, they could hardly straighten their backs or speak, but You Jin continued to enthusiastically sign book after book. She is a scholar who is known by all, she and her books well loved by the people of Chengdu. One student, holding her book already signed, was reluctant to leave. She said that You Jin seemed to possess a richer vision of life and experience than the average person. She further said that the way the author probed so deeply into life and went about everything with such gusto was what attracted young people to her.
After a book signing, I turned my attention to the small mountain of gifts some of the more enthusiastic readers had brought to me. There were flowers, prayer beads, greeting cards, letters, ornaments, cross stitch…every gift was brought as a token of well-wishes.
The next day, local newspapers, radio and television all carried news of the event. The Sichuan Broadcast Corporation aired a story called “You Jin Mania” on 10 September.
The print run for these five books was 50,000 per book for a total of 250,000. The books were warmly received by readers, prompting an additional print run of 20,000 per book (100,000 total), adding up to a total print run of 350,000 for this set of five books.
Before I left Chengdu, Ms Duan and the other editors from the publishing house took me to a famous Chengdu restaurant for hotpot. In the hotpot restaurant, a band of five performers accompanied by guitars went from table to table singing folk songs. One of the singers recognised me and, after he finished his song, he offered me the triangular pick he used to play the guitar, saying, “I really love your books. Now I’m giving you the most important thing for playing the guitar, to express my deepest, heartfelt admiration for you.”
Then the wait staff and cooks all came out and formed a line, asking for my autograph. One of the cooks held a US one-dollar note that he had kept and cherished for years, and which he now asked me to sign. I was reluctant at first because it was illegal to sign money but, when he persisted, I relented.
One of the wait staff asked me to sign a diary she kept with her all the time. The strangest thing was when a customer came over and asked me to sign her blouse. It was a beautiful blouse, so I could not bear to write on it, but she begged me to do it, and I was even less able to deny her pleas.
As I was signing one item after another, I became keenly aware of the great power of literature, of just how influential it could be. Literature has invisible wings on which it can fly across all the unchartered reaches of the earth, entering the minds of people I do not know and offering them something that they can learn or use. Through this literary bridge, the minds and hearts of many strangers could be drawn near.
In March 1993, the Zhejiang Arts Publishing House decided to publish another set of four of my books, including the travel book Black Sea Pearls, the short story collection Selected Short Stories of You Jin, and two collections of short essays, Lighthearted Essays and Exquisite Short Works. It was also at this time that I was invited to do a book signing at the Beijing Wangfujing Xinhua Bookstore. The Zhong Yang Television and Radio Station and reporters from major newspapers came to the event to conduct
interviews. The atmosphere was fervent and lively. Beijing’s Zhong Yang Television Station created a special feature of their interview with me and, in March of that year, it was aired on a new program called Dong Fang Shi Kong.
In his article, “Author’s Love Condensed in her Signature; Hot Sales Warmed You Jin’s Heart”, reporter Chen Bin wrote:
Spring was beginning to warm the streets of Beijing on 7 March. Inside the Wangfujing Xinhua Bookstore, where Singaporean author You Jin was signing books for a huge crowd, things were really heating up. Nine books by You Jin, published by the Zhejiang Arts Publishing House, were displayed at a special sales counter, and as readers flocked to the displays to purchase books, she warmly signed each copy, incorporating a little artistic flair into each signature.
Diligent and industrious, You Jin carried on signing readers’ books for two hours, signing over 1800 copies.6
Following this, I was invited by the chairman of the Tianjin Writer’s Association, Mr Jiang Zi Long, to do a book signing at Nankai University. About 2000 people queued for an autograph that day, turning the originally planned two hours into more than three.
In September 1993, the Sichuan Arts Publishing House published four more of my books, including a collection of essays At Home in Singapore, a collection of personal essays A Sweet and Salty Life, a short story collection The Pomelo Grew Wings, and a collection of travel writing An Appointment with the Lotus. I accepted an invitation to fly to Chongqing and Chengdu for book signings. There were many articles about me in the local news, and the Sichuan television and Radio stations both arranged interviews for special features on me.
When I got back to Singapore from Sichuan, I received a letter from the director of the Contemporary Literature Research Centre at Nanchang University, Professor Chen Gong Zhong, inviting me to go to Nanchang in November for a literary event. Nanchang was not an unfamiliar name to me, having made an impression on me from Wang Bo’s Prince of Tang’s Pavilion, which I had not only read, but practically memorised. The book’s descriptions, such as “The sunset and a lonesome duck take flight together, as the autumn waters turn the same hue as the sky”, were particularly memorable. When I later read the works of the eight great Tang and Song poets, I found that three were from Jiangxi, which was also the home of one of my favourite writers, Tao Yuanming, who lived in the Six Dynasties period nearly 2000 years ago. In his famous couplet, “Plucking chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge, I see Nan Shan in the light of eternity”, “Nan Shan” refers to the scenic Lushan Mountain in Nanchang. One of Su Dongpo’s famous poems, “The horizon is seen as the peak, and all distance and height are flattened. The true face of Lu Shan remains unknown to one stuck on the slopes,” is about Lu Shan. I was full of yearning for Jiangxi, this place filled with gorgeous scenery and talented people.
My trip to Nanchang was made at the joint invitation of Nanchang University and the 3S Culture Industry Centre. I had many unforgettable experiences there.
At my lecture in Nanchang University, the audience was shockingly large. When I was signing books after the lecture, the crowd was getting out of control, and the professors began to fear for my safety. They decided to change the location of the book signing, forming a human wall to usher me into a room, where just the books would be brought in for me to sign. The problem was that there were just too many people asking for autographs. I was signing books so fast that, before long, even I could not recognise the two characters scrawled on each. After a while, some of the readers who had already gotten their copies signed returned them, giving the reason, “We don’t want someone else to sign for her; we want You Jin’s real signature.” I looked at the books I had just signed and could not hold back a smile—the signature was so ugly I could hardly believe it, but it really was my own signature.
At the Jiangxi Teacher’s University, the enthusiasm of the students moved me to tears. When I had finished my lecture, the student representative earnestly presented me with a commemorative gift, a white cloth ten meters long with more than a thousand student signatures beneath the huge red words “Welcome, You Jin!” They had organised a week-long “Signing Party” to show their sincere support for my work, and to welcome me to Nanchang. Frankly, this is one of the best, most treasured, and unforgettable, gifts I have ever received. At the time, a cold front from Siberia had swept across Nanchang, bringing a bone-chilling wind, but that white banner with more than a thousand signatures was like a thousand little flames that warmed my heart.
When I was signing books in the Blue Book Room, a middle aged woman grabbed both of my hands as soon as she saw me. Tears filling her eyes, she said, “Thank you! Thank you so much.” Originally from Shanghai, she had moved to Nanchang after she was married. Her husband often had to work until very late at night. She had experienced several setbacks in life, and was suffering from insomnia. During many of her lonely, sleepless nights, as she and her shadow sat facing each other, she occupied herself by reading my books. She wanted to tell me that my work had given her strength and courage. Honestly, the whole time she was thanking me, I wanted to express my undying gratitude to her because, with such a warm reception, I could go on writing forever.
Being Impersonated
In early October 1993, a very shocking and puzzling thing happened. With my reputation now more firmly established in Mainland China, I had many enthusiastic readers, all of whom sent me little gifts, fervent long letters or short notes through different channels. On this particular day, one of the letters I had received was very direct. It read:
There is one small, but important, issue that you may not be aware of. On the market is a newly released series of erotic novels, which was published under your name. Ten volumes have already been published. I am an avid reader of your work and know your personality very well. I am very confident that these are not your works. I thought you might want to issue a statement saying they are not yours. Otherwise, some readers might be misled.
As I was reading, a chill crept up my back, even as rows of sweat appeared on my forehead.
Some time back, when I was in Beijing, several people had shown me some pirated copies of my books. The paper used was of extremely poor quality, there were numerous printing errors, and the binding was horrible. The books they were referring to were bootleg copies, and they were as numerous as hairs on a cow’s back. It was impossible to get rid of them. At the time, I just replied in the spirit of the Lu Xun character Ah Q, saying, “Bootleg copies are a way of disseminating culture too. Even though they aren’t issued by my publisher, they do help spread my writing to greater audiences.”
No matter how many copies of a bootleg version there were, I always remembered that they were still a part of my own body of work, but books written by others impersonating me were not my books, and I could not be responsible for anything in the book. Now someone was using my name to publish pornographic novels.
I picked up the letter again and grew anxious. I really hoped that this was just a mistake. But, as it happened, things became even more unpleasant.
More readers started to inform me of this situation. In their letters, they expressed many different opinions. The readers who trusted me were infuriated by the crooks who falsely published material under my name, and they hoped that I would take action to stop it. Those who half-trusted and half-suspected me hoped I would clarify things, sharing my thoughts on the matter. One reader, who obviously did not trust me, wrote rather fiercely.
In the past I really enjoyed reading your work, feeling that it uplifted and strengthened the reader. But with your most recent work, I do not understand the change you’ve made from your previous writing style to writing of a pornographic nature. Why do you want to write these things? Don’t you know that pornography is a poison to society?
My shock turned to dismay, making me feel very burdened. If one person said this, he might be mistaken; when two people said it, it might be collusion; but when several people started reporting it, you knew there was something
behind it.
I wrote to the two readers, including a 100 RMB note with each letter. I asked them to send me a copy of these erotic novels to see for myself.
One of the readers quickly replied, sending two of the offending books along. The other bought all ten, but when he went to mail them, the post office staff checked the contents of the package. Discovering that it was pornographic novels, not only did the staff confiscate the books, but the reader was also promptly fined.
When I opened the package, I nearly fainted. One book, Dream Pleasures, was published by the Yunnan People’s Publishing House. The other, A Life of Pleasure, was published by the Shanxi People’s Publishing House.
The horrifying thing was that the word “Singapore” was printed in front of my name. Worst of all was the absurd introduction printed with it:
This book is written by renowned Singaporean author You Jin, a love story written as a literary sketch. When it was released, it created a powerful sensation in Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong and Taiwan, and was banned at one time, but later it was given the Golden Award for best Romantic Fiction.
Flipping through the obscene content, I felt that labelling them as “romance” tarnished the word. In both content and language, they were awful. After just skimming the pages, I wanted to wash the taint from my hands.