The Big Red Book of Modern Chinese Literature

by Yunte Huang

  Dispirited, she went to school but was in no mood to listen to the lectures. Instead she daydreamed. She imagined that she saw a rush of powerful roaring waves rolling over all that was old and rotten. She was convinced that extraordinary and new things were spreading everywhere. Her small corner of the world was the only place they had not yet reached. And even if they did, she would never get her hands on them. Restlessly she gazed around the room. She despised her dull, lazy, torpid classmates. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, she saw a student, Xu Qijun, sitting not far from her, reading one of the magazines with the word “new” in the title.

  After class Mei rushed over to Xu Qijun. Peering over her shoulder, Mei saw that this was the very magazine that had slipped through her fingers. “Ah, I never suspected you were the one who bought it,” Mei called out gleefully. She turned half around and leaned on Xu Qijun’s shoulder as though they were old friends. Xu turned her head, looked at Mei with dark, penetrating eyes, and said with a smile, “Are these also on sale in the city? Mine were sent to me by my brother in Beijing.”

  The two classmates, who had barely known each other by sight, suddenly began an intimate conversation. An indescribable but clearly sensed force drew them together. In the course of this animated discussion Mei again heard many strange new terms. Although she did not yet fully understand their meaning, each one gave her a feeling of rapture, of exhilaration. The two girls did not even hear the bell signaling the next class.

  When Mei returned home that day she carried under her arm a bundle of magazines, all lent to her by Xu Qijun. Although the weight under her arm had increased, there was a greater spring in her steps. She felt that a new world had opened up before her. She had only to walk in and there would be happiness and light.

  Her exploration of the new thought and the sudden acquisition of a new friend made Mei temporarily forget the anxieties evoked by her personal problems. From the crack of dawn when they went to school until the evening when it grew dark, she and Xu Qijun were inseparable. The two of them became a target of gossip at school. Some even suspected them of lesbianism. Summer vacation was near. The dates for final examinations had already been set. But Mei and Xu remained engrossed in the new books and magazines. The only time they opened their textbooks was in class, when they propped them up on their desks to fool their teachers.

  Because of Wei Yu’s original suggestion, Mei still concentrated on Tolstoy. But Xu seemed to be a disciple of Ibsen. Every other word out of her mouth was Ibsen. Each saw herself as the representative of her chosen writer. In reality, neither really understood the works of these two great masters. They had only a very vague idea of their meaning and even misinterpreted them in many places. But at the same time they shared a common conviction: Tolstoy and Ibsen were both new, and because they were new they were definitely good. This common faith strengthened the girls’ friendship and brought their very souls together.

  Examinations finally ended. On the evening of July 1, the first day of vacation, Mei’s father suddenly took ill. The old man had returned home drunk at eight o’clock. At ten he started complaining of stomach pains, after which he threw up everything he had eaten. He wrote himself a prescription, which he himself prepared, but it had no effect. Mei did not sleep all night. She sat in her father’s sickroom, wild and confused thoughts pouring through her agitated mind. Just before dawn her father seemed a bit calmer, but within half an hour he went into a rage over his son’s lack of filial piety. Gasping, he jumped up and began ranting about dragging his son back and reporting him to the magistrate for disobedience to his father. All Mei and the maid could do was muster their strength to pull the old man back to bed. This melodrama lasted until eight o’clock the next morning, when the patient finally calmed down and Mei frantically sent for a doctor.

  Later that morning, when the patient appeared to be resting easily, Mei returned to her own room to try getting a little sleep. But in her overly excited condition she could do no more than close her burning eyes and let her muddled thoughts overcome her. She pondered the fact that Xu Qijun would be returning home to Chongqing today. Mei’s new friend had promised to mail her more new books, but Mei did not know when they would arrive. She also wondered whether her plans to spend the vacation reading would be upset and hoped her father would get well quickly. It also troubled her that Wei Yu had not been by all week. She turned these matters over and over in her mind. Time and again she rolled over to place her feverish cheeks on the coolest part of the mat.§§ Mei dimly heard the singing of birds in the trees outside her window. The voice of their servant, Auntie Zhou, drifted over from the living room, followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Finally, there was what sounded like a fly buzzing incessantly around her ear.

  “Master Liu is here.”

  As the humming congealed into these words, Mei awakened from her exhausted stupor. She opened her eyes and stared vacantly in front of her. The maid, Chuner, stood grinning at the foot of the bed. Mei frowned and shook her head as if to say, “Don’t bother me,” then turned over and pretended to be asleep. She had expected him to come. She really had been hoping someone would come to drive away her depression. If only it had not been him! All thought of sleep departed. Mei jumped up and ran to the door to lock it but changed her mind. She left it half opened as before, walked to the window, and sat down in her chair. She spoke softly but proudly to herself: “Will he dare?” The small hand on the belly of the Negro doll showed that it was precisely three o’clock. The oppressive heat of the July sun muted all sound. There was only the chirping of the cicadas in the wutong tree outside the window. Mei sat stiffly upright in her chair, as if awaiting some grave omen.

  Suddenly the door creaked. Mei watched, startled. The face of Chuner, her thick lips parted, peered in and then quickly withdrew.

  “Chuner!”

  Mei’s stern shout drew Chuner back inside. She stood fearfully in the doorway. Her thick lips, which lent an air of stupidity to her face, were half opened, almost as if to smile.

  “Has Master Liu gone yet?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “Is my father asleep yet?”

  “Not yet. Master Liu and the old master talked a long time. First the old master was happy; then he got angry.”

  Mei cocked her head and hesitated. She thought this very strange and looked at Chuner’s fat face with disbelief. She knew this tricky little girl would not stoop to lying, so maybe she was making a wild guess. But Chuner stepped closer and went on in a whisper, “Master Liu said to the old master that if he and the young mistress got married earlier, the old master could move into Master Liu’s house. That way, if he got sick again in the middle of the night he wouldn’t have to worry. Auntie Zhou told me your wedding will be next month!”

  “Damn!”

  Mei’s color changed slightly, but she quickly recovered her air of indif­ference and scrutinized Chuner as if to test the reliability of her words. Then Mei laughed bitterly and asked, “And what did my father say?”

  “The old master was very happy. Then I don’t know what Master Liu said, but the old master started getting angry. The old master cursed the bastard student troublemakers and the yamen for not taking any action.”

  Mei closed her eyes and sneered. With the words “Button your lip,” she ordered Chuner out, and holding her head in her hands, she sank into thought. She guessed what “Master Liu” must have said, but could her father really have agreed to carry it out next month? Mei was extremely upset. Although she had already decided on a way to deal with things, she had hoped they would not come to a head so soon.

  That night Mei’s father slept peacefully, and by the next day he had nearly recovered. While chatting with him, Mei tried to bring up the subject of her anxieties. Her father spoke to her with vehemence. “It was just some sort of bug, but everyone figured I was on my deathbed. Yuchun even wanted to rush the marriage without allowing time for the necessary arrangements. Heh! That youngster is really shrewd. I intend to live a few more
years yet. I want to carry out your wedding with the full ceremony. With the students making such a fuss, who knows how much Yuchun will lose? Naturally, I would prefer that you wait until his business picks up before you get married. He sure knows how to talk. He said that I was getting old, that I was always sick, and that if you two got married soon, he’d have me live with you so he could look after me day and night. Ha! I, Dr. Mei, am not the type who follows his daughter to her husband’s house just for a free meal ticket!”

  Mei smiled. She knew her father intended to use all of this to get something out of the Lius. The severe criticism of “commercialized marriages” in her magazines immediately sprang to mind. But as long as her father’s ideas helped further her own “delaying tactics” she was happy. She expressed the desire to “wait at least until I’ve graduated from high school,” then quickly found a pretext to leave her father’s presence.

  “Worry about tomorrow when it comes. For the present, just walk the path that lies before you,” Mei thought as she sat in her own room. She smiled as she picked up a copy of Weekly Review¶¶ that Xu Qijun had left and began reading it enthusiastically.

  Before she had finished a page, she heard the sound of voices coming from the living room. She threw down the magazine and ran out. In the anteroom off her father’s bedroom she saw a handsome young man in a military uniform. It was Wei Yu. He had come to inquire about Dr. Mei’s illness and say good-bye.

  “I’ve already seen Uncle. Tomorrow I’m leaving for Lüzhou.” Wei Yu spoke these words rapidly, then looked intently at Mei. His eyes appeared moist.

  Mei forced a smile and, acting the hostess, invited him to come sit in the library. This tiny side room had once served as Dr. Mei’s examining room. Then it had been used as the classroom for the children in the family. Recently, it had been abandoned altogether, and although it was still kept spotlessly clean, it already showed signs of disuse. Mei had hurriedly thought of this place so they would not be disturbed.

  It took ten minutes for Mei to find out that Wei Yu’s unit was starting out for Lüzhou and could end up going into battle. She also discovered that Wei Yu had been promoted to lieutenant. She stared at him. He spoke with exasperating slowness. A million questions lodged in Mei’s throat, waiting for a pause to burst out.

  “It’s because we heard there would be fighting that a lot of the men who managed the division’s paperwork resigned. So they promoted me a grade. Of course, I don’t know how to fight, but when you think about it, it’s not so terrible. If I’m killed, that’s okay. If I’m lucky enough not to be killed, I’m hoping the experience will improve my health. I think this should stir up my spirit. You see, Meimei, I’m wearing a uniform now. If I can’t be a healthy person, I might as well die. This is my last act of courage, my last hope. But there’s an eighty or ninety percent chance I’ll die. If we lose the battle, I won’t be able to escape, someone like me. . . .”

  Wei Yu stopped abruptly. Although he felt the iron hand of fate tightly gripping him, the new books and magazines he had been reading of late kept him from letting the final words of self-denigration escape his lips. He cast his eyes downward, then glanced once more around the room. It was still the same old library. Events of ten years ago rushed into his mind. Back then his parents were still alive. Back then he had studied in this very room, sharing the same desk with Mei. Back then they had often pretended that they were bride and groom kneeling before the altar on their wedding day. It was also back then that their two hearts had become inextricably intertwined, inseparable for eternity. Now, now the two hearts were still the same, but everything around them had changed. He had to acknowledge the power of reality. He had to sever the feelings of love he had harbored for ten years. He could not hold back his tears.

  Mei did not share his feelings of sorrow. She had been waiting patiently for Wei Yu to continue speaking. When it seemed likely that there would be no more, her questions began pouring out. “When will you be back? Do clerks also have to go to the front? It will take about ten days to get to Lüzhou, won’t it? When you’re traveling by land, they’ll have to give you a sedan chair, won’t they?”

  This string of questions interrupted Wei Yu’s train of thought. He smiled at Mei and replied as slowly as before, “There’s no telling with the army. Maybe once we get there we won’t fight. Right now no one knows. Even if we do fight, of course they won’t send me to the front. But if we lose I’ll need two strong legs to escape. I’d rather get shot at! When will we be back? That’s even harder to say.”

  For a moment it was silent. They exchanged glances. Then Wei Yu laughed bitterly and added, “This could be our last good-bye. I pray, Meimei, that you will have a peaceful and happy future.”

  Mei smiled knowingly and said with gravity, “I hope when you get to Lüzhou there is a battle. I hope you win. I know you are going to win. I have faith that this will be the beginning of your career. When that happens, when that happens, everything will be different. I’m waiting for that moment.”

  Smiling again, Mei stood up energetically, like a brave woman seeing her sweetheart off to war. Suddenly she remembered something. Staring strangely at him she whispered, “You probably won’t get back this year. What about that matter of yours?”

  As he replied, Wei Yu stood up and straightened his uniform. “If we don’t return there is nothing they can do about it. They can’t send her to Lüzhou, can they? Anyway, who says we’ll stay in Lüzhou. When you’re dealing with the army, who knows what will happen?”

  A sudden gust of wind blew open the glass doors. Outside was a small courtyard with several stalks of bamboo and a flower bed covered with dense moss. Beside the flower bed stood a few broken flower pots filled with scraggly weeds. Mei walked woodenly over to close the doors, then turned and faced Wei Yu. He stood in the doorway, about to leave. She could not help smiling. It was a smile that said, “Our hearts are one,” a comforting smile, an approving smile. It was also a smile of hope.

  (Translated by Madeleine Zelin)

  * The Afang Palace housed the harem of the first emperor of the Qin Dynasty (221–207 B.C.).

  † Mei refers to the governor as a general because most provincial governors during this so-called warlord period of Chinese history were powerful commanders of personal armies whose political role grew out of their military power.

  ‡ This is a reference to the section in Zhuangzi entitled “The Floods of Autumn,” in which the philosopher chides the prime minister of the kingdom of Liang for fearing his job is coveted by the philosopher. He likens the prime minister to an owl who has just caught a rat and fears it will be stolen by the phoenix flying overhead. Just as the phoenix eats and drinks only the purest and most delicate foods and would not want the rat, Zhuangzi would have no interest in such a job.

  § This is a pun on the word gui, or demon, and the name of the pass as well as an expression of Mei’s hatred of her isolation in Sichuan.

  ¶ This was the home of Cao Rulin, minister of communications in the central warlord government and one of the three pro-Japanese officials who were targets of student wrath following China’s mistreatment at Versailles.

  # A yamen was the office of the head of any administrative unit.

  ** “Meimei’’ is a term used to address a younger sister. Here it demonstrates affection and the fact that the two are cousins.

  †† Traditional Chinese morality contained strong proscriptions against the remarriage of widows.

  ‡‡ Traditionally only young unmarried girls in China wore their hair in braids. Used by a middle-aged woman like Miss Cui, this hairstyle could become a symbol of feminism and the rejection of marriage.

  §§ It is a common practice in parts of China to place straw mats on one’s bed in summer to avoid the sticky heat of sleeping on sheets.

  ¶¶ Founded in Shanghai in 1919, this Kuomintang, or Nationalist Party, organ was one of the most important new journals to appear during the May Fourth period.

  BA JIN
>
  (1904–2005)

  Born Li Feigan to a county magistrate family in Sichuan, Ba Jin was home-schooled due to his poor health. Influenced by the new ideas of anarchism and utopianism, he went to study in France in 1927. Lodging in the Latin Quarter in Paris, he wrote his first novel, Destruction (1929). In 1931 he published Family, the first in his Torrent trilogy, his best-known work: a saga of a family caught in the sweeping currents of change, a window into a nation facing the crossroads. Always sympathetic with the weak and the victimized, his novels and essays moved readers with a profound humanitarian spirit, which, however, did not sit well with prevailing Communist doctrines. He was disgraced during the Cultural Revolution and locked up in cow sheds to do hard labor. In his late years, Ba Jin wrote a series of soul-searching essays, reflecting on the human disaster that had befallen China and its people. Called by many “the conscience of twentieth century Chinese literature,” he died in 2005.

  Family (excerpts)

  10

  You can lock up a person physically, but you cannot imprison his heart. Although Juehui did not leave home for the next few days, his thoughts were always with his schoolmates and their struggle. This was something his grandfather could not have foreseen.

  Juehui tried to envisage what stage the student movement had reached; he avidly searched the local paper for news. Unfortunately, there was very little. He was able to get hold of a mimeographed weekly, put out by the Students’ Federation, which contained quite an amount of good news and a number of stirring articles. Gradually the tension was subsiding, gradually the governor was relenting. Finally, the governor sent his Department Chief to call on the students who had been injured in the riots, and issued two conciliatory proclamations. Moreover he had his secretary write a letter in his name apologizing to the Students’ Federation and guaranteeing the safety of the students in the future.