Hard Like Water

by Yan Lianke

  (My assessment: “This essay features a series of imaginative connections, from barrel of a gun to flagpole and from flagpole to the relationship between Marx’s success and Engels’s status as a spiritual flagpole. Moreover, this brilliant essay has a hundred more characters than my own ‘Barrel’ essay. I therefore acknowledge defeat.”)

  Out (出): Aphorisms

  —For Lenin

  Author: Xia Hongmei

  Invite the word“self” to walk out, and invite the word“collective” to enter.

  If you walk out to connect with the masses, you’ll encounter the enchanting sight of another village; but if you close the door and lock yourself off from the masses, you’ll have no way of returning to the mountains and streams.

  If you walk out and look up, you’ll see the cloudless sky above, and the collective will appear, iridescent; but if you return home and face the wall, you’ll see only darkness, and the individual will appear, tainted.

  When there are a pair of mountains (山+山=出) overhead, you won’t be able to see the sky; but if you move this pair of mountains away, a great avenue to the sky will open.

  If you wish to find questions from the struggle along two roads, to find meaning in the depths of your soul, and find answers in Chairman Mao’s works, then you must go out and carry out a test in practice for the struggle.

  (I thought that these five aphorisms were indeed quite good, but they would be more appropriate as dedications to Chairman Mao, and it seemed somewhat odd to dedicate them to Lenin. Hongmei, however, asked, “Didn’t Lenin also advocate collectivity and selflessness? Wasn’t the communist spirit advocated by Lenin grounded on the concept of the collective?” I had no response to this, and Hongmei laughed.)

  The aphorisms I dedicated to Lenin were:

  Out

  —For Lenin

  Your act of writing out The State and Revolution is a beacon light for the advancement of revolution.

  Your act of writing out Philosophical Notebooks is a great synthesis of Marxism-Leninism.

  Your act of writing out Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism is a great prophecy of society’s advancement, predicting the inevitable victory of the proletarian revolution.

  Your act of writing out Critique of the Gotha Program is like the Big Dipper in the night sky, illuminating the path for the future implementation of a socialist nation governed by a dictatorship of the proletariat.

  Your act of writing out Our Revolution is like a dagger slicing off the clothes of international opportunism. It is like an ax cutting open the path for Russia’s revolution.

  (Hongmei’s assessment of these five aphorisms was: “Compared with mine, these aphorisms are indeed closer to Lenin, however in each case the word ‘out’ appears only in the phrase ‘writing out.’ Not only is this rather monotonous, it is rather opportunistic.” I acknowledged Hongmei’s critique, and more importantly, I knew that Critique of the Gotha Program is actually one of Marx’s works—but given that at the time I couldn’t remember the titles of any of Lenin’s other works, I had no choice but to replace one of them with one of Marx’s. Fortunately Hongmei didn’t notice this. Verdict: another tie.)

  The philosophical phrases dealing with “politics” (政) that I dedicated to Stalin were:

  Feudal government wants to be the grave digger of the proletariat, but at the end of the day it merely ends up burying itself. Even if the proletariat unwittingly exploits and oppresses others, it will still become the grave digger of the feudal class. [Hongmei exclaimed, “Good!”]

  Revolt is the calling card of revolutionaries, while conservatism is the epitaph of anti-revolutionaries. [Hongmei asked, “Did you come up with this yourself, or is it from someone else?” I replied, “Xia Hongmei, you don’t give me enough credit!” Hongmei fell silent, but the look of respect she gave me was as if she had seen a true poet.]

  If you live to benefit the people, then even if you die, you will still live forever. But if you live to benefit yourself, then even if you are still alive, it will be as if you were already dead. [Hongmei exclaimed, “Excellent!”]

  When revolutionaries use violence for the sake of revolution, this is a form of political humanism, but when anti-revolutionaries implement democracy for the benefit of the capitalist class, this is a form of the most anti-humanist fascism. [I thought I remembered having read some essay that Stalin wrote about violence, and it seemed that there was some connection between Stalin and violence.]

  Stalin is not merely a military figure; more importantly, he is a political figure. He inadvertently became a global hero but during World War II erected a great monument to heroes. Although Hitler was also a military figure, he was no political figure, and though he dreamed of becoming a global leader by establishing a global hegemony, during World War II he ultimately fell apart and committed suicide, having been reduced to the status of a mere clown. [Hongmei said, “Aijun, your knowledge is truly impressive. For this round, I acknowledge defeat.”]

  The philosophical phrases dealing with “politics” that Hongmei dedicated to Stalin were:

  When you are standing, the Soviet Union stands on politics; but when you are toppled, the Soviet Union will be toppled by its politics. [This is deep, but it is more an aphorism than a philosophical phrase.]

  You may die, but you will always live on in the hearts of the socialist people. Khrushchev may still be alive, but the socialist people will always regard him as a political demon. [This was similar to what I wrote. I remarked, “You must have peeked at mine!” Hongmei replied, “Isn’t it enough that I already acknowledged defeat?”]

  Originally, the world did not have political paths, but as people walked around, paths began to form. [I said, “This was Lu Xun’s point. You should change it to, ‘Anywhere people walk, even if there were no political paths there to begin with, paths will form. Conversely, anywhere people do not walk, even if there are already political paths there, paths will disappear.’”]

  If one has a political lamp in one’s heart, then there will be light even in the darkest night. But if one does not, then there will be darkness even in the middle of the day. [That is certainly true.]

  If you live for the sake of revolution, then your life will be worth a thousand taels. But if you live only for yourself, then your life won’t be worth even a single needle. Regardless of whether you are worth gold coins or a single needle, the solution is action. [This one was merely average, and furthermore didn’t even include the keyword “politics.”]

  The five heroic slogans featuring the keyword “power” (权) that Hongmei dedicated to Chairman Mao were:

  What is the highest thing in the world?

  The power that the People grant to Chairman Mao is the highest thing in the world.

  What is the reddest thing in the world?

  The sun over Tiananmen is the reddest thing in the world.

  What is the most intimate thing in the world?

  The great leader Chairman Mao is the most intimate thing in the world.

  What is the happiest thing in the world?

  Serving the People is the happiest thing in the world.

  What is the most glorious thing in the world?

  Initiating revolutionary struggle is the most glorious thing in the world.

  The sky is bright, the earth is dark, but our red hearts will never change. Streams will flow and rivers too, but we must keep the power we hold.

  If you wield power on behalf of the People, then the People will be able to rest easy. If you wield power on behalf of the Party, then you will closely track the Party Central Committee. However, if you wield power on your own behalf, then prison will be the only thing that awaits you.

  When you have power in hand, you should keep the People in your heart. When you have power in your heart, you should have Mao Zedong Thought in your soul. If you have power in your soul, then you should have loyalty to Chairman Mao flowing through your veins.

  If you defend political power, yo
u’ll be able to make it through a critical juncture and brave the storm, and if you defend political power, you’ll be able to traverse a path of struggle and face the world.

  The five heroic slogans featuring the keyword “power” that I dedicated to the great leader Chairman Mao were:

  We hold red power in our hands and hold Chairman Mao in our hearts.

  The heavens may shift and the earth may shake, but my red heart’s loyalty to Chairman Mao will never falter. Heads may roll and blood may flow, but we will never lose the power we have recaptured from the hands of class enemies.

  Even if we launch a class struggle today, we’ll still have the support of our class brothers. And even if World War III breaks out tomorrow, we’ll still have our position, the political power of the proletariat, and Chairman Mao’s smile.

  Power is seized from the hands of class enemies; willpower is forged in the furnace of class struggle; a red heart is nurtured from Mao Zedong Thought; and class consciousness is developed through diligent study.

  For the sake of revolution, not only will I work hard, I will work even harder for my comrades. I will not only do another good deed, I will do even more good deeds. For the sake of power, I will not only engage in another struggle, I will engage in another, even deeper, struggle. For the sake of revolutionary love, not only will I not hesitate to sweat and bleed, I won’t hesitate to sweat and bleed my final drops of sweat and blood. So that Hongmei’s plum blossom may bloom forever, not only will I struggle to a higher level of power, I will do everything I can to attain even greater power.

  After Hongmei finished reading the heroic slogans I dedicated to Chairman Mao, she stood silently under Mao’s portrait for a long time. She was utterly astonished by my final lines: “For the sake of revolutionary love, not only will I not hesitate to sweat and bleed, I won’t hesitate to sweat and bleed my final drops of sweat and blood. So that Hongmei’s plum blossom may bloom forever, not only will I struggle to a higher level of power, I will do everything I can to attain even greater power.” By this point, we had already been aroused by this new and most stimulating competition, and now we felt restless, excited, and also exhausted. This exercise, where we each spent twenty-five minutes displaying our linguistic talents, left us both trembling with excitement as we argued animatedly over the readings, all so that afterward we could enjoy either having our opponent remove our clothes with their mouth or else removing our opponent’s clothes with our own mouth. Because each of us wanted to be the one to be undressed, we originally expected to engage in a long debate before reaching a final determination of who was the ultimate winner—each of us arguing that our own compositions reflected deep thought, lofty ideas, beautiful language, and abundant talent, while our opponent’s compositions were shallow, far-fetched, and strained. However, after Hongmei finished reading my final two lines, she instead just stood there silently and reflected for a moment, then exclaimed, “Aijun, how would you like me to undress you with my mouth?”

  I lay down on the bed.

  I told her to first strip naked, then kneel down next to the bed. Next, I told her to begin with my neck and unfasten each of the buttons of my military uniform, and then unfasten each button of my sweater and my shirt. After each of these articles of clothing was removed, she could use her mouth to unfasten my belt, unfasten the buttons on the front of my pants, and then use her mouth to remove my pants and underwear. Her lips were smooth and moist, and her tongue was nimble and dexterous, and as she was unbuttoning my buttons and removing my clothes, I felt as though a beautiful bug were crawling up and down my body—such that each time it reached a new location, the bug’s warm breath would blow on my skin like a cool breeze blowing on my overheated body. I was already aroused and could hardly wait to do that thing with her. Back when we had finished reading our compositions I had already been as hard as a rock but had controlled myself. I wanted to have her lips, teeth, and tongue wander up and down my body, and I enjoyed this sensation for at least forty, maybe sixty minutes. I watched as she panted over my body, and her sweat poured down and left behind a pool of perspiration resembling the world’s largest pearl. Only then did I pounce like a thunderbolt and throw her beneath me, as though she were a sheep I had been chasing for hundreds of li through the mountains.

  Finally, her limber, passionate, and sharp plum-colored screams once again echoed through the tunnel, refusing to dissipate. After excitedly doing that thing like a thunderbolt, we quietly lay in bed. She caressed my shoulder with one hand and rested her other hand on my chest—panting contentedly, as though she had been treading water and had finally made it to shore. Meanwhile, I was running one hand through her hair and using the other to caress her breasts. I looked past Hongmei’s shiny forehead, at the opposite wall, where the products of our game were hanging.

  I said, “Hongmei, you’ve improved!”

  She blinked, “What?”

  I said, “Your literary talent and knowledge of theory, your verbal talent and class consciousness—they’ve all improved.”

  She laughed. “You’ve trained me well.”

  I said, “You’re too modest.”

  She said, “Really! You are a revolutionary teacher.” She turned over and took my hand, and it was in fact like a student wanting a teacher to lead her forward.

  I held her hand in mine and proudly replied, “I’m not only your teacher, I’m also your adviser.”

  She stared at the ceiling fastidiously and said sadly, “I don’t want you to be my teacher or my adviser. All I want is for you to be my lifelong revolutionary lover.”

  I also stared at the ceiling, which was covered in drops of water, and said, “Aren’t I already your revolutionary lover?”

  She replied, “I said ‘lifelong revolutionary lover.’”

  I said, “Our relationship will definitely be lifelong.”

  She said, “That’s hard to say. You don’t realize how much potential you have, and so far I’m the only person in the world who knows it. Right now you are only the deputy mayor, but who knows how things may change once you are promoted to county head, district commissioner, and provincial governor?”

  I said, “Would the revolutionary structure permit me to constantly change my mind?”

  She said, “That’s true. Even if I permitted it, the revolution wouldn’t.”

  I said, “Actually, Hongmei, I’m also afraid that you might have a change of heart.”

  She replied, “I won’t. I definitely won’t.”

  I said, “How do you know?”

  She said, “Because if I did, you could fire me and strip me of my Party membership.”

  I said, “I could?”

  She said, “You have the power. You must make sure that you will always be my leader.”

  I said, “Yes, that is true.”

  At this point, she looked away from the ceiling and suddenly sat up. Gazing at the portraits and slogans on the wall, she said, “Aijun, we should swear an oath.”

  “What sort of oath?”

  “We should swear an oath of our love for each other, before these great figures.”

  “OK.” I also sat up. “But as a gesture of respect, we should first put our clothes back on.”

  “No need.” She added, “We are their children, and when children are naked in front of their parents, they are natural and unashamed.”

  I reflected for a moment and then said, “Yes, that’s true.”

  We therefore stood naked in front of the portraits and our brilliant compositions and held our breath.

  I first raised my right hand and said, “I swear that I, Gao Aijun, apart from maintaining a lifelong loyalty to you, our great leader Chairman Mao, will also remain loyal to your thought and to the socialist road, and apart from filially supporting my mother and enabling her to enjoy a comfortable old age, I will also maintain a lifelong loyalty to my love for Xia Hongmei and will let our love and affection endure and flourish.”

  Hongmei looked at me and said, “And
what about after you become county head, district commissioner, and provincial governor?”

  I faced the portraits of the four great men, and holding my right hand even higher, I swore, “My appointments may change, but my heart will not. I’ll love you until the seas dry up and rocks crumble.”

  Hongmei turned and stared at me. “How about when I’m old, decrepit, and full of wrinkles. What then?”

  I bit my lower lip. “Even after I turn one hundred, my heart will remain pure, and my gray hair will continue to reveal my true feelings.”

  Hongmei asked again, “What if you change?”

  Her skepticism angered me, and I furiously swore, “Then you can tell the Party Central Committee and Chairman Mao that I’m corrupt and degenerate, that I’m a fake revolutionary and a false socialist. You can print our relationship on flyers, and after I become county head, you can distribute those flyers throughout the committee courtyard; after I’m appointed district commissioner, you can distribute the flyers throughout the provincial Party committee courtyard; and after I’m appointed provincial governor, you can distribute the flyers throughout the city of Beijing.”

  She didn’t say anything else.

  When I lowered my right hand, I saw her standing there, her skin as white as a jade column. There were, however, a pair of teardrops in her eyes.

  I said, “Your turn. Swear!”

  As I had done, she slowly raised her right hand and gazed up at the portraits. The veins in her right arm appeared dark green, like vines in the spring.