by You Jin
As I sat in my chair looking at these two monstrosities, lamenting the sight of my own name on these pornographic works, I started to cry. These books were spiritual poppy that poisoned the souls!
I was furious and hurt. I felt the frustration of not being able to report the injustice. But these books had been published in China, and here I was Singapore. I had the helpless feeling of holding a short whip.
I noticed that on this book was printed all the publication information, just like other books, including the name of the publisher, the date of publication, the publication number, the list price, the editor in charge, and the cover designer. I picked up my pen and wrote to the director of the Shanxi Province News Agency. I also sent them a photocopy of A Life of Pleasure, and said I hoped he would help me settle this matter.
The head of the Shanxi People’s Publishing House, Mr Liang Jun, promptly replied to my complaint. He offered an analysis in a very professional spirit:
The director of the Shanxi Province News Agency gave me the letter you sent to him. I can solemnly assure you that, in regards to the book A Life of Pleasure, the name of my publishing house was wrongly used by others, in the same way your own name was appropriated for this illegal publication. We are in the same position as you and feel extreme anger towards these impersonators’ evil act. The publication number on the book’s cover and the printing information are all a sham. We will investigate the matter and when we find the evidence, will hand the responsible parties to the authorities.
Hearing that even the publishing house was being impersonated, I decided to write to the newspapers to clear my name. So I wrote a letter to the editors of all the major newspapers in China:
I am a Singaporean author and have been writing for many years. I have always upheld truth, goodness and beauty as the golden rule and precious precept of my writing, believing firmly that literature has a social mission. In the years I have been writing, through many types of literary works, I have delved deeply into human nature, revealing the ugly side of human life, as well as celebrating its beauty, so that my readers will see the social issues, while also witnessing life’s brilliance. In 1989, my collection of travel writing, Life and Love, was published by the Guangdong Travel Press. Since that time, I have worked with many Chinese publishers, producing numerous titles, including travel writing, fiction, full-length essays and short personal essays. I have often been invited to attend events and book signings organised by various Mainland publishers in Beijing, Shanghai, Tianjin, Guangzhou, Hangzhou, Chongqing, Chengdu and other cities. I have built a close and harmonious bond with my Chinese readers, and have been able to engage in numerous cultural and philosophical dialogues through literature. As a Singaporean, I feel very honoured. I am therefore shocked to find that, in recent months, several pornographic novels have been published in the Mainland market under my name. The content is nothing but smutty erotica, absolutely obscene. Many readers who sincerely care for me have written to ask me about this. To date, more than ten such works have been published under my name. This matter is an offence to me both personally and professionally, and has caused me great distress. I hope that you will be able to act as my advocate, making it known that works such as A Life of Pleasure and Pleasure Dreams, along with all other erotica, have not been written by me. This would help reassure my reading public.
About a month later, every major newspaper in China published my open letter, in a prominent position, with several publications including a statement of their own position. For instance, Publishing News in Beijing issued this editors’ comment:
Publishing a work under false pretences is common, and now it has expanded overseas, creating a very bad impression of China in the global community. Singaporean writer You Jin wrote to us, expressing her horror at several pornographic books appearing in the local market bearing her name, though they were not written by her. She had obtained two such books from Zhejiang and on these books were printed the names of public publishing houses from two provinces. These publishing houses may be victims, but the other possibility cannot be dismissed either. No matter what the facts of the case are, what is exceedingly clear is that it is a serious problem, and the entire industry should treat it with importance.
Another article appeared in the China Youth Paper, which expressed this view:
Regarding the letter Ms You Jin sent concerning pirated copies, we are quite shocked. Unlawful rogues concocting pornographic material is already an illegal act; heaping the bad name upon actual publishing houses and foreign writers adds crime upon crime. It is our belief that strengthening the laws governing the culture industry is a task that cannot be neglected any longer.
In Singapore, the chairman of the supplemental segment of Lianhe Zao Bao, Mr Pan Zheng Lei, published an extensive report about this in the 13 Feb 1994 edition of Weekly Supplement. This was followed by publications in The Straits Times, Xin Ming Ri Bao, and Lianhe Wan Bao the next day, in very significant segments.
Once this matter had been widely disseminated, I had some peace of mind. At the very least, my readers were aware that erotic novels were falsely published under my name, and would become more alert when they were buying my books. Should some readers buy these books anyway, these reports would be firm evidence that they were not written by me, so I need not go to great lengths to explain myself. Of course, I had a crazy wish that since the bad guys had been exposed in the news, they would stop.
When these books were flooding China, and before the Chinese newspapers had published my declaration, I accepted an invitation from the Jilin People’s Publishing House to travel to northeastern China in the freezing month of November, touring four major cities there (Dalian, Changchun, Harbin and Shenyang), where there would be book signings. The books Jilin People’s Publishing House were releasing included travel memoirs The Little Charming City and The Best Partners, two novels, A Ball Gown and Final Act, and a collection of personal essays The Invisible Basket.
The night when I arrived in Changchun, the radio broadcasting station arranged a live programme and invited the listeners to call in and talk to me. A male listener asked me directly, “Ms You Jin, I would like to know why you wanted to write this book Blowing the Reed Pipe Every Night.” I grasped the opportunity and explained myself. I had never imagined that, when I travelled to those four cities in the northeast, this issue would continue to follow me everywhere.
The most unforgettable experience occurred in Harbin, where a male reader who was queuing for an autograph asked, “Recently, these pornographic novels—something like Befuddled Life and Human Bliss—appeared in the market. Why do you want to write things like that?”
Before I could answer, a woman in the queue behind him defended me fiercely, saying, “Of course those are fakes. Why would Ms You Jin write pornography?”
Having such a faithful reader to support me was quite touching but, from the response of many readers, I knew that not everyone believed I was the victim. Some, especially those who had come into contact with my works for the first time, were poisoned by the gossip, and my reputation suffered. Until today, no matter where I am, when I think of this matter, it pains me.
A Final Note
To date, I have worked with more than twenty publishers in China, producing over sixty of my works. These publishing houses are scattered through various provinces and cities from north to south, including Beijing, Hangzhou, Chengdu, Chongqing, Shanghai, Jilin, Guangdong, Tianjin, Xi’an, Qingdao, Nanchang, Shijiazhuang and Taiyuan.
For me, 17 September 2000 was a very special day. At the Chongqing Teacher’s Institute, before 300 witnesses, the You Jin Research Centre was opened, with a solemn and grand sign-hanging ceremony. This was the result of two years of hard work, put in by the institute’s associate professor, Hu Ming Rong, with the support from the dean, Fu Shi Fang, and the Secretary, Xu Zhong Wei. (The Chongqing Teacher’s Institute was renamed the Chongqing Teacher’s University in 2003).
During the long period of prep
aration, Associate Professor Hu Ming Rong worked with perseverance to gather information about me from everywhere. She also carefully drew up the rules and regulations, planning all the related activities. While she was engaged in these arduous and fussy tasks, the associate professor, with her usual tolerance and attentiveness, showed amazing perseverance and effort, finally turning her ideal into reality on the date planned.
At the opening ceremony of the You Jin Research Centre, in a concise but comprehensive speech of gratitude, I expressed my view of literature:
Five thousand years of culture is a glorious sight. It is a long flowing river, a bottomless well, and a boundless sea. In the distant lands across the sea, I look up, I plunge in, I explore, and I immerse myself. The essence of culture injected continuously into my blood slowly turns into a literary sapling in my body. It sprouts and grows, every delicate leaf wafting with the fragrance left by the swaying coconut breeze, and sparking with the lustre left by the banana rain. The tree with its roots planted in the native country happily flourishes in the wind and rain. With the beautiful hope of pursuing the source of the living water, it grows comfortably. This tree may be weak or fragile, and perhaps it is not sufficiently nourished or lacks charm, but it knows it has never betrayed the growth rings produced by the trunk—in the clearly visible vicissitudes of life, there are scars of relentless efforts.
I pursue literature with all my strength. There is only one simple and beautiful reason for this—for me, text is life.
3. Duan Bai Ling “The Rise of a New Star” China Youth Daily, 6 Oct 1991.
4. Shanghai, Literature Weekly, Issue 588.
5. Mao Yan, and Zhang Shu. “A Scholar Known by All.” Chengdu Wan Bao, 7 September 1992.
6. Chen Bin. “Author You Jin Warmly Received at Book Signing.” Tu Shu Fa Xing Bao, 8 March 1993.
Postscript
While writing this book, I moved into the bittersweet years of middle age, when I was neither affected by favour or disgrace. I did so with a feeling that “the flowers in front of the pavilion bloomed, and they fell. Nothing lasts forever, blowing through our lives like clouds across the sky”.
When I was young, I had a lot of dreams and ideals, which slowly disappeared without a trace, like brightly coloured butterflies.
Even though everything has become fleeting clouds for me, I am firmly aware that there is one love inside me that will never die, and that is the love of writing.
When I first started my affair with it, the artistic lines of Chinese characters and the solid picture-like structures intoxicated the barely literate me. I plunged into its embrace and found it hard to extricate myself.
When I was still very young, diving into the world of text, I felt it was like a pond: clear, beautiful and refreshing to the soul. As I grew, I found that writing had become a well containing endless treasures thousands of years old. When I matured, I fully understood that a text is actually a sea, expansive and deep, and compared to it, we are as tiny as ants.
Writing has magical powers. It is delicate and beautiful, each character wriggling with life, powerfully controlling others’ emotions, sensory pleasures and feelings.
I treat text like a mysterious treasure, cherishing it like a miser. It is in my heart, my mind, my blood and my soul. I always hear it forever calling to me, and I must answer it with gentle affection.
I touch it, feel it, read it, write it, and am entangled in it for 365 days a year.
Text is not part of my life. It is my life.
This book is not a character study. It is a love story.
About the Author
YOU JIN has published more than 150 books in Chinese in Singapore, Taiwan, China, Hong Kong and Malaysia. These include novels, short story collections, travelogues and essays. She is the first recipient of both the Singapore Chinese Literary Award and the Montblanc-NUS Centre for the Arts Literary Award. She received the Zhong Shan Literary Award in 2010 and Singapore’s Cultural Medallion in 2009.
About the Translator
SHELLY BRYANT divides her time between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a poet, writer, and translator. She is the author of seven volumes of poetry, a pair of travel guides for the cities of Suzhou and Shanghai, and a book on classical Chinese gardens. Shelly’s poetry has appeared in journals, magazines and websites around the world, as well as in several art exhibitions. Her translation of Sheng Keyi’s Northern Girls was longlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize in 2012.