The seventeen-year-old Nah stands in front of her mother.
Tea or turtle broth? the mother asks.
I don't want to talk about my marriage. The daughter puts down her bag.
Do I have the right to learn the young man's name? The mother's voice is high-pitched.
Call him Comrade Tai. He's twenty-eight years old.
Are you aware that he is a low-ranking officer?
I thought that every human being created under the sky of Mao is equal.
Would you sit down?
No.
Well, have you ever questioned the reason why he gets no promotion?
He is retiring.
You mean dropping out.
Whatever.
I hope he is not going back to the village.
Well, he is and I am going with him.
The mother's breath halts. She tries to control herself. After a long pause she manages to ask where the place is.
A village in Ninxia Province.
Ninxia? The ghost place?…You are doing this to me… Why?
The daughter keeps her mouth shut.
The mother breathes deeply as if she will pass out if she stops. What… what did your father say?
He blessed me and said that he would be behind me even if I chose to enter a monastery.
A choke takes hold of the mother. She begins to cough.
The daughter fetches a cup of water and goes to give it to her.
Heartless! The mother pushes her away and yells, banging her chest. Heartless!
You haven't presented me with the in-laws. Who are they?
The daughter makes no reply.
Nah!
I am not going to answer your question when I know that you are going to insult me.
Well then, I will have to put up a protest at your wedding.
There will be no wedding, Mother. We have… The daughter turns away and looks out the window. We have already married and I can get it for you if you would like to see a copy of our registration.
Stunned, the mother gets up, goes to the wall and begins to bang her head.
We are leaving for Wunin tomorrow. The daughter watches her mother and trembles in tears. After a while the scene becomes unbearable. Without saying a word, the daughter leaves.
The mother curls into a ball at the corner of the wall. She then crawls over the floor and onto the sofa, suffocating herself with a pillow.
I am trying to close my eyes on Nah, but I am unable to. Regret is eating my heart alive. I wish I had tied her shoelaces, packed her lunches and made her skirts when she was a little girl. I wish I had given her birthday parties and invited her friends to our home. I wish I had spent more time talking to her and learning to help with her troubles. But all is too late and out of control. She must be so lonely and desperate to marry herself off as a way out. She wants to punish me. She wants me to witness how she destroys her future-my future. I used to think that being Mao's daughter was Nah's biggest fortune… Have I taken out my anger toward my mother on my daughter-neglecting her the way I was neglected? I've abandoned my own wish to be a good mother.
And I hear my heart's cry. I am willing to give up everything to reclaim my daughter's love. But I can't. I am running Mao's business. It is like riding on a tiger's back-I am unable to get off. I live to please Mao. I am selfish and can't escape what made me. I can't live without Mao's affection. In that sense I am pitiful, a hostage of my own emotion. I have been trying to beat this pitifulness. I am a bloody heroine.
It didn't turn out right. Now I'm missing my little girl. Her little arms around my neck. The way she tiptoed into my bed at night. I want her back and I am going crazy thinking about what I have done… What happened? What's wrong with me that I refused to kiss her at every departure? I have taught her to deaden her own emotions. I meant to make her strong so she could have a life that's better than mine.
It's fate, my mother would have said. There isn't much one can do to change the way it is meant for her to live. I dream of my being killed as Mao's woman. It is the role I play with passion. It is the dance I was born to finish.
18
THE DARKNESS OF THE THEATER, the rows of empty seats, the sound of drums and music soothe my nerves. I am back and forth between Beijing and Shanghai these days. I continue to scout talent and look for material to adapt. My goal is to create characters who are ardent Maoists. I am holding on-trying to make Mao see my importance, to make myself indispensable. Other people are also in a race with me for Mao's affection. I must move fast. With Mao's permission and with Kang Sheng and Lin Biao's help, I have succeeded in banning other forms of entertainment – I fill the stages with the women who I'd like to be.
Yesterday I viewed a piece entitled The Harbor. I was not only impressed by its content but in awe of its musical design. This morning I phoned the mayor of Shanghai, Chun-qiao. I asked if he knew Yu Hui-yong, the composer. I'd like to have a copy of his dossier as soon as possible.
On the night of October 4, 1969, Madame Mao turns over the pages of the dossier and is thrilled with her discovery. She learns that the thirty-seven-year-old composer has been the key creator behind some of the best operas of recent years. The next day before breakfast she tells Chun-qiao that she would like to meet Comrade Yu immediately.
Chun-qiao reports that there is an obstacle. Comrade Yu is in prison. He was arrested at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution for having been a traitor before the liberation.
Get my car and connect me with the prison head, Madame Mao orders.
The prison head tells Madame Mao that it would be difficult to release Yu. However, he immediately sends her a record of Yu's crime. The story began in 1947 when Yu was a teenager. He was a member of Mao's Liberation Army. The civil war was at its peak. Chiang Kai-shek's troops bombed the entire area of Jiao-tong and Yan-tai. Yu's division was instructed to bury their food and belongings and get ready to fight for their lives. Yu was devastated. He thought about his mother and made a decision to fulfill his wish to be a good son. Before dawn Yu found a quiet place in the village and dug a hole under a tree. He buried his food and belongings and left a note: Dear brothers of Chiang Kai-shek's troops: I might be dead by the time you discover this note. My only regret is that I am given no chance to pay piety to my aging mother. My father died when I was eight. My mother raised me all by herself and the hardship she has gone through is beyond description. My spirit will thank and bless you if you could mail this package to my mother for me. Here is the address.
To Yu's dismay the note was not found by the opposition but by his own comrades. It was reported to the Communist Party authorities. Yu was turned in and detained for six months. Later on in a deadly battle he was given a chance to prove his loyalty. He survived and was forgiven, but his record was kept by the secret intelligence.
When the Red Guards of the Music Conservatory of Shanghai discovered Yu's record they celebrated-they had never had a chance to handle a "real enemy" until now.
Large productions of Taking the Tiger Mountain by Wit and The Harbor are rehearsing in Beijing and their creator is not allowed to meet with me. I have put pressure behind my request and have demanded Mayor Chun-qiao's direct attention. I am sure Chun-qiao is experiencing difficulty. I am sure my enemies are doing this to me on purpose. They know Yu's talent. They are clear that once Yu and I get together we will be an invincible team. Yu can help me promote Maoism single-handedly. He writes, composes and directs. He has a background in folk melodies and a degree in classical Western music. He has deep roots in traditional opera and a strong sense of modernism. He is trained in composition and plays almost every instrument.