May I take part in the convention?
No answer.
She asks again.
Mao starts snoring.
Beyond the harsh valley of Yenan, the world lurches toward the greatest conflagration of the century. The Nazi-Germans begin to move across Europe. The Japanese fan out over the Pacific. Closer to home, Mao begins his intense competition with Chiang Kai-shek for the ruling power of China.
Jiang Ching celebrates her next four birthdays in the small garden at the mouth of their cave. At thirty-one she has become an expert seamstress and is used to having their living room used as a war headquarters. Once in a while after an important battle is won, Mao sends away his comrades. He takes a day off to spend with the children. More rarely, he escorts his wife to a local performance to see an opera, an orchestra or a troupe of folk singers. Sensing his wife's frustration, he makes his horse available to her.
After only a few lessons from Little Dragon, I am able to ride out by myself. With a little practice, I soon become quite confident. The land surrounding Yenan is perfect for riding, open and rolling. I tie my hair up into a bun and speed the animal. I ride over the hills and along the riverbank. The breeze on my face makes me feel the spring. Smiling into the wind I think to myself, I am a bandit girl! I ride until the horse's nostrils are wide with panting and his sweat has soaked the blanket. And then I dig my heels in for one last gallop.
Madame Mao Jiang Ching is content yet bored at the same time. She is getting tired of her role as a housewife. She realizes that she cannot be satisfied with a house full of children, hens, roosters, goats and vegetables. Her mind needs stimulation. She needs a stage. She begins to exercise her role the way she sees it. She reads documents that pass across Mao's desk. She learns that the United States has entered the war. She learns that Hitler is being pushed out of the Soviet Union and that the Japanese are in retreat. The Chinese Communist Party has expanded and is the largest political group in the world. Her husband has become a household name and a symbol of power and truth.
What has become of me? the actress asks herself. Fairlynn occupies a seat in the Party's convention while she, as Mao's wife, can't even attend its opening.
Fairlynn sits among the delegation in the front row and is voted a speaker for the nation's intellectuals. During a break Fairlynn pays a visit to Madame Mao Jiang Ching. She congratulates her on her husband's rise to power and asks if Madame Mao compares herself to Madame Roosevelt. Fairlynn describes Madame Roosevelt, her achievement in American politics and Western history.
The wife of Mao listens as she washes her husband's and children's clothes in a bucket. The water is freezing. She washes the bowls, woks and scrubs the chamber pot. Her hands are swelling with frostbite. The soap slips through her fingers.
One night I try to discuss Madame Roosevelt with Mao. You are not Madame Roosevelt. He kicks off his shoes and blows out the candle.
Suddenly I am depressed. For the rest of the month I try to read.
But there is no way I can concentrate. An incident almost took place as I neglected my duty-Nah nearly fell into the manure pit-and it makes me put down the books.
The tailor comes to accompany me, but I send her back. I no longer want to hear the news.
Mao holds small meetings at home. He doesn't tell me ahead of time. He doesn't tell me who will be coming either. It's his style. He just sends Little Dragon for them on his terms. It can be three o'clock in the morning or midnight. They are expected to share a meal and discuss battles. I am supposed to put out food and go to war in the kitchen. Sometimes a cook or the guards help me. But it is my job to clean up afterwards.
I am playing a strange role: a queen who is a maid.
At the convention Mao is elected the Party's sole boss. Liu Shao-qi, who has built the Communist network in Chiang Kai-shek's white territories, is voted the second boss. Vice Chairman Liu Shao-qi has praised Mao highly in his acceptance speech. Little Dragon excitedly updates me with the details of the convention. Liu Shao-qi mentioned Mao's name one hundred and five times! The guard expects me to be thrilled, but I can hardly hide my misery.
At bedtime, afterwards, the wife again asks if she can be given a seat at the convention. The husband switches the tone of his voice.
I can't give anybody a seat. One has to earn it.
The wife sits up. You don't think I have earned it?
He doesn't answer but makes a sigh.
She wipes her tears. Well, I need a chance to earn it then.
Mao produces a list of books for me to read. He is giving me the prescription he gave to Zi-zhen. Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, The Three Kingdoms and The Record of History. But I won't be reading them. Not one of them. I already know what kind of pills are in his bottle. Not only do I refuse to become Zi-zhen, I am determined not to be a stagehand in his political theater.
As Jiang Ching tries to break onto his stage, Mao launches a movement called Rectify the Style of Work. The year is 1942. At first it is considered a routine political examination, then it turns into terror. All of a sudden "traitors," "reactionaries," and "Chiang Kai-shek's agents" are caught everywhere. What later surprises historians is that the movement is initiated by Mao and conducted by Kang Sheng-two masters of conspiracy who set up an imaginary plot against themselves.
The movement is narrowing. The focus has become the extermination of the enemies within. Panic sweeps through the entire base of Yenan. To make oneself stand out as a hard-core left-winger, a true Communist, one begins to put others down, even to accuse others as right-wingers. In the morning one can be thought of as a revolutionary activist, by noon an anti-Communism suspect, by evening an enemy. One can be seen in a day meeting forcing others to plead guilty, and in an evening meeting be oneself arrested and thrown into a dark confession room.
The drill for the movement is Ren-ren-guo-guan-"a critical juncture everyone has to pass." The meetings are like chemical jars-when enemies are dipped, they show disease.
It doesn't matter that she is Madame Mao. To show the Party's fairness she will be checked no differently. She is told that it is her turn to dip herself in the chemical jar.
She is nervous. She worries about her background, in particular, her signature on Chiang Kai-shek's paper denouncing Communism. Although her friend Kang Sheng has instructed her on what to do she is still unsure.
Would you please attend my spot? she begs Kang Sheng.
When her day comes Kang Sheng is among the crowd.
Madame Mao Jiang Ching is put in the center of the room, spotted by the eyes of hundreds. She gives a self-evaluation as the format requests. Taking a deep breath she begins the process of convincing. The description is smoothly prepared and stated in graceful Mandarin. Her background could not be more pure: a child of feudalistic abuse, a young Communist in Qing-dao, her time in Shanghai as a left-wing actress devoted to films against the Japanese invaders, and her final landing in Yenan as a mature revolutionary and wife of Mao.
She believes that her performance is seamless. However, a couple of people in the crowd question the period she had skipped. A witness is demanded to prove her bravery in prison.
Suddenly she panics and turns defensive.' Her lines become messy and words disconnected. What's the point? I have to produce a witness! Why? Are you saying that I am making up my story? How can I do this? I have been a revolutionary. And I will not be afraid of you!
For a while there is silence, but it is clear what is on everyone's mind. There is a desire to see the actress fail. To trip over herself, break a prop and fall off the stage. Soon the crowd begins to attack in one voice. What's this attitude, Comrade Jiang Ching? What makes you so nervous if you don't have anything to hide? Why the hysteria? Isn't it healthy for comrades to question when there are doubts? Especially about one's release from the enemy's prison? It is everyone's obligation to cooperate. Nobody is above the Communist Party in Yenan. Not even Mao's wife.