I give Chun-qiao ten days to present me with Yu. Finally, when I am in the middle of reviewing Taking the Tiger Mountain by Wit at the Hall of Mercy, Chun-qiao comes to me with the news that Yu has been escorted to Beijing.
Where is he? I ask, so excited I raise my voice. The actor on the stage thinks that I am yelling at him and swallows his lines.
Yu is in the Guest House of Beijing at the moment, Chun-qiao whispers in my ear. He is in terrible shape. He hasn't had a chance to take off the prison uniform and he smells like a chamber pot.
Send him!
A half-hour later Yu Hui-yong arrives. The moment Madame Mao Jiang Ching lays eyes on the half ghost and half man, she stands up and quickly walks up to him. She reaches out and offers both her hands. I regret not having met you earlier, Yu.
The composer/playwright begins to tremble. He is unable to utter a word. He looks like a sick old man with gray hair and messy beard. He wears a borrowed suit. How can I ever pay back your kindness, Madame? He weeps.
Let's work together, replies Madame Mao.
By now the opera has come to its end. The curtain descends and then rises. The actors line up. The audience claps. The sound becomes louder. The security people run back and forth between the stage and the audience. It is a signal for Madame Mao to get on the stage. The weeping Yu gets up and tries to make a way for his savior.
Come with me, Yu, Madame Mao says. Come with me onto the stage.
The man is shocked.
Madame Mao takes Yu's arm and pushes him, smiling.
The man follows.
On stage Madame Mao Jiang Ching centers herself with Yu standing right next to her. The two clap and pose for photos.
The romanticism in Yu's composition moves me. Being with him is like being in a dream. He is not so attractive in appearance; neither tall nor strong, he has a broad forehead and a jaw that is too square. But below the thick eyebrows is a pair of bright eyes. He inspires me as a great artist. Since he and I are from the same province, Shan-dong, we are able to reflect on our favorite childhood tunes. I invite him for tea every day. He is humble to a fault. He won't sit down without a long string of thank-yous. He won't open his mouth unless I order him to comment. He always carries a notebook and opens it when I speak. He waits on me. It makes me laugh, because he is so serious. Very silly. I tell him that I don't want to be treated like a portrait on the wall. I want him to have fun and I want myself to have fun. My life has felt too much strain already. Think of a way to relax me. Tonight we don't talk about work. Tonight we talk nonsense.
It takes him weeks to feel comfortable with me. Finally he is himself again. He starts to bring instruments to play for me at tea. Two-string violin, flute and three-string guitar. He is a gift. We chat and he hums me rice songs, drum tunes and ancient operas that imitate the sound of desert winds. Sometimes I join him. I sing arias from The Romance of the West Chamber. We tease each other and break into laughter. His voice is poor but his singing is charming. It has a style of its own. His soul is steeped in music. Like a student I ask him questions. He is the most confident in those moments. He brings me books he has written-A Collection of Drum Songs of Shan-dong, A Collection of Folk Songs of Jiao-dong, Songs of the Forest of Shan-bei and Classics of One-String Banjo.
The pleasure is enormous. Yet I can't express myself fully. My status intimidates him. There is always a distance between us. To everyone in China I am Mao's woman. No man is allowed to have personal thoughts about me. Although I would like to get closer to Yu, I withhold myself. The worst part in our friendship is that he answers me like a servant. It only makes me feel lonelier as I listen to his passionate music.
The visits continue. As much as I can I try not to mention Mao. In fact, he never asks about my life after work. I can tell that he gets curious sometimes, but he won't venture himself. We would run out of words to say. He finds excuses to depart. He is sensitive and is weak in confrontation. I beg him to stay and he insists on leaving. We do what I call "saw-movement" several times a day. Sometimes in public. People get confused when hearing me raise my voice at Yu.
You never listen to me, Yu Hui-yong! she yells, almost hysterically. There will be a day you and I split. And I won't be afraid!
He hurries to the door and leaves. He never says a word when she is angry. Later, people tell her that he weeps his way back to the Opera House of Beijing. He doesn't have a home and he lives in a storage space near backstage. He has made a public oath that he lives only to serve Madame Mao Jiang Ching. He doesn't care that it costs him his relationship with his wife. He wants nothing but to impress Jiang Ching. This is how he repays her kindness, with music and his life. His health is declining. He has serious stomach problems and pain in his liver. But he never complains. He conducts rehearsals day and night. He eats irregularly and has no sense of time. Often he delays the meal time and innocently starves the actors. He makes the cafeteria people wait. It has become a habit that Yu calls lunch break at four o'clock in the afternoon.
She can't explain herself. She feels hurt and yet she waits for Yu's return. When she can't take it anymore she sends her secretary to demand from Yu a "self-criticism." He hands in no paper. But he understands that Madame Mao is calling him back. He sends her a tape of a work in progress. Usually it is a newly composed song. One of the songs is called "I Won't Be Happy If I Don't Sing."
It is a strange relationship. It carries the intensity of one between lovers. In order to have him by her side she promotes him to be the new chief of the Cultural Bureau. But he declines her offer and expresses his indifference to politics. She takes it personally, believes that he looks down on her. He argues, trying to prove his loyalty. To impress her he produces more work. He is putting his fingerprints all over her operas and ballets. He highlights the female character-his dedication to a goddess. He fights for her. To convince the troupes to try his new music construction and to replace shao-sheng (male lead in falsetto) by lao-sheng (male of natural voice), he conducts weeks of seminars to educate the actors and troupe heads. For the orchestra to play his mixture of Western and Eastern instruments, he demonstrates the harmony by taking apart and putting together the arrangements. He takes away the male character's stage time and devotes it to the females. And finally there are only heroines.
When she is presented with the new productions, she is greatly impressed and deeply touched. In many ways she feels that he is a soulmate. She feels great love for him.
The effect of the operas begins to show. The arias are broadcast throughout the nation. The masses know the words and hum the tunes. The Cultural Revolution is at its height. The operas help Madame Mao Jiang Ching's popularity. She becomes a superstar to every household. She grows more ambitious. I want all my operas and ballets to be made into films! She doesn't wait for the proposal to go through the bureaucracy. She goes to the National Treasury and demands the funding. She takes a political approach. It will test your loyalty toward Mao.
Her wish is granted.
You have to have the guts to touch a tiger's rear or you'll never get a chance to ride it.
Let's all promote the revolutionary operas! I thought with Mao's pronouncement I could get my films done smoothly. But that is not the case. The problem is that the film studio has been divided into eight factions. No one wants to work with any other. The head of the lighting department tells the cinematographer at what angle to set the camera. The designer refuses the director's order on costumes. The makeup artist puts pink cream on the actress's face, the color he personally favors. And the producer issues a report on the screenwriters' "anti-Mao lines." Every day there is a fight on the set. Months have passed and not a single scene has been shot.