Read Online One Man's Bible by Gao Xingjian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gao Xingjian
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nightmares.
“I warn comrades to note that they want to restore capitalism. I am talking about the Ox Demons and Snake Spirits, high up, and down below, from the Party Center down to provincial cadres! Where they exist in the Party Center, we must relentlessly drag them out, we must safeguard the purity of the Party and not let the glory of the Party be sullied! Are there any here among you? I would not dare to vouch that there are not. Aha, you thousands gathered at this meeting, are all of you so pure and clean? Are there none groping for fish in muddy waters, colluding with higher ups and jumping down below? They want to confuse the battle lines of our class struggle; Iurge all comrades to be on the alert and to sharpen their eyes. All who oppose Chairman Mao, all who oppose the Party Center and all who oppose socialism must be dragged out!”
As the voice of the official on the platform died down, everyone starting shouting slogans:
“Exterminate all Ox Demons and Snake Spirits!”
“I swear to protect Chairman Mao with my life!”
“I swear to protect the Party Center with my life!”
“If the enemy refuses to capitulate, it must be destroyed!”
All around him people took the lead in shouting, and he, too, had to shout out loudly so that he could be heard; he couldn’t just make a show by raising his fist. He knew at this meeting that anyone who behaved differently from others would be noticed, and he could sense that he was being observed, arrows were pointing at his back, and he was sweating. He felt for the first time that maybe he was the enemy, and that very likely he, too, would be destroyed.
Maybe he belonged to the class that had to be destroyed. Then what class did his deceased parents belong to? His paternal great-grandfather wanted to be an official, donated a whole street of properties, but still couldn’t manage to buy himself the black silk hat worn by officials. He went berserk, got up one night and torched everything, including the house he had kept to live in. That was during the Qing Dynasty, before his father was born. His maternal grandmother had mortgaged all the property left by his maternal grandfather, and was financially ruined by the time his mother was born. Neither of his parents had been involved in politics. However, his father’s younger brother had performed a meritorious deed for the new government by stopping a sum of money at the bank from going to Taiwan, and that was how he had earned the title of Democratic Personage. They were all salaried workers, did not want for food and clothing, and lived comfortably, but they also lived in fear of losing their jobs. They had all welcomed the New China, and believed that the new nation would be better than the old one.
After “liberation,” when the great armies of the “Communist bandits”—later called the “Communist Army,” later still called the “Liberation Army,” and then later officially named the “People’s Liberation Army”—entered the city, both his parents felt liberated. Incessant war, bombing, fleeing as refugees and fear of robbery all seemed to have gone forever. His father did not like the old Nationalist government. His father had been a branch manager in a state-run bank, but in his father’s own words, his failure to understand the nepotism and infighting cost him his job. Following that, for a while, he worked as a journalist with a small newspaper, but when it closed down, he could only sell off property in order to survive. He remembered the silver “big heads” in the shoebox under the five-drawer chest getting fewer by the day, and the gold bracelets disappearing from his mother’s wrist. This very shoebox under the five-drawer chest had been used to hide a copy of On the New Democracy, printed on the coarse paper used in Mao Zedong’s border region. The book had been smuggled into the city by his father’s mysterious friend Big Brother Hu. This was the earliest publication he had
“I warn comrades to note that they want to restore capitalism. I am talking about the Ox Demons and Snake Spirits, high up, and down below, from the Party Center down to provincial cadres! Where they exist in the Party Center, we must relentlessly drag them out, we must safeguard the purity of the Party and not let the glory of the Party be sullied! Are there any here among you? I would not dare to vouch that there are not. Aha, you thousands gathered at this meeting, are all of you so pure and clean? Are there none groping for fish in muddy waters, colluding with higher ups and jumping down below? They want to confuse the battle lines of our class struggle; Iurge all comrades to be on the alert and to sharpen their eyes. All who oppose Chairman Mao, all who oppose the Party Center and all who oppose socialism must be dragged out!”
As the voice of the official on the platform died down, everyone starting shouting slogans:
“Exterminate all Ox Demons and Snake Spirits!”
“I swear to protect Chairman Mao with my life!”
“I swear to protect the Party Center with my life!”
“If the enemy refuses to capitulate, it must be destroyed!”
All around him people took the lead in shouting, and he, too, had to shout out loudly so that he could be heard; he couldn’t just make a show by raising his fist. He knew at this meeting that anyone who behaved differently from others would be noticed, and he could sense that he was being observed, arrows were pointing at his back, and he was sweating. He felt for the first time that maybe he was the enemy, and that very likely he, too, would be destroyed.
Maybe he belonged to the class that had to be destroyed. Then what class did his deceased parents belong to? His paternal great-grandfather wanted to be an official, donated a whole street of properties, but still couldn’t manage to buy himself the black silk hat worn by officials. He went berserk, got up one night and torched everything, including the house he had kept to live in. That was during the Qing Dynasty, before his father was born. His maternal grandmother had mortgaged all the property left by his maternal grandfather, and was financially ruined by the time his mother was born. Neither of his parents had been involved in politics. However, his father’s younger brother had performed a meritorious deed for the new government by stopping a sum of money at the bank from going to Taiwan, and that was how he had earned the title of Democratic Personage. They were all salaried workers, did not want for food and clothing, and lived comfortably, but they also lived in fear of losing their jobs. They had all welcomed the New China, and believed that the new nation would be better than the old one.
After “liberation,” when the great armies of the “Communist bandits”—later called the “Communist Army,” later still called the “Liberation Army,” and then later officially named the “People’s Liberation Army”—entered the city, both his parents felt liberated. Incessant war, bombing, fleeing as refugees and fear of robbery all seemed to have gone forever. His father did not like the old Nationalist government. His father had been a branch manager in a state-run bank, but in his father’s own words, his failure to understand the nepotism and infighting cost him his job. Following that, for a while, he worked as a journalist with a small newspaper, but when it closed down, he could only sell off property in order to survive. He remembered the silver “big heads” in the shoebox under the five-drawer chest getting fewer by the day, and the gold bracelets disappearing from his mother’s wrist. This very shoebox under the five-drawer chest had been used to hide a copy of On the New Democracy, printed on the coarse paper used in Mao Zedong’s border region. The book had been smuggled into the city by his father’s mysterious friend Big Brother Hu. This was the earliest publication he had
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