WE ARE HEADING TO a group wedding ceremony. We are joined by two other couples, Dan and Lucy, Eryi and Lulu. Junli will act as our host. The witness is Tang Nah's lawyer friend, Mr. Sheng. Both Tang Nah and I hope that the ceremony will rescue our love. We are vegetables after a heavy frost. We need the warmth of the sun. The journey seems perfect. It is a soothing spring day. We ride a train from Shanghai to Hang-zhou. The place has been described by poets and travelers throughout history as the face of heaven.
They can't see the trouble-mountain because they are on it. The truth is that there is nothing left in their love. She has doubts, but chooses to believe in love, plus the bonus-Tang Nah has promised to convince Junli to cast her in his films. That is how she decides to go forward, on to the wedding ceremony.
Here is Junli. She presents herself to him again, performing her tricks. But in the end there are no results to her effort. She tries as hard as she can, so does Tang Nah. But Junli is not only unmoved but disgusted. If it weren't for Tang Nah, he wouldn't even look at Lan Ping. She takes it so personally that she feels a sense of disgrace. Her resentment is so great that thirty years later, during the Cultural Revolution, she orders the Red Guards to destroy Junli. Put him away so he won't spread rumors about her. Junli is beaten to death by the Red Guards and Madame Mao won't admit that it has anything to do with a personal grudge.
Junli's sympathy toward Tang Nah has spoiled everything. He disregards my expectations for Tang Nah. If it weren't for his lazy attitude, Tang Nah could be a much greater man than he is now. Junli and Dan would have come to beg me for Tang Nah's favor. I think it is selfish for Tang Nah to accept himself as a loser. His friends are selfish to stand by while his talent slides down the drain. They buy him drinks when he is depressed. Junli even holds special parties to cheer him up. He invites Tang Nah to stay at his house so that he can avoid me. Tang Nah calls Junli his soulmates. Once Tang Nah confessed things that Junli and Dan had said about me. It made me furious. They believe that Tang Nah is too good for me. They give him permission to forget his responsibility to our love. They have ruined Tang Nah's future along with mine.
The truth is deeper. They are star-crossed. There is betrayal. And then comes her disappointment. She had expected Junli to cast her. She thought he was Tang Nah's best friend. But he did the opposite. He cast her rival, Bai Yang, a pancake-faced actress, in his film The Spring River Runs East and made her a superstar. How foolish she was. How can she possibly be liked while the man thinks that she is the source of his best friend's misery? The one who drove Tang Nah to attempt suicide? Junli is too smart. He has always seen Tang Nah and Lan Ping as a mismatch. He disliked her before she even introduced herself.
We are posing for photos. The Pagoda of Six Harmonies is a perfect background. Junli is trying to direct us in his frame. The stars of China. The most handsome men and women. I am aware that the photos will generate attention and career opportunities. But my intention is not just to be in this shot. My intention is to show Tang Nah how much I care for and love him. I am making a lifetime commitment to a man whom it is hard to keep loving. It is a sacrifice. But for love I am willing to do anything. I am shaking inside. I am rolling the dice.
Why am I nervous? You must have faith first to let it work for you, a Buddhist preacher once said to me. I must establish faith in Tang Nah, I must establish faith that our relationship will work. This is what I am thinking when the picture is being taken. I offer myself no alternatives. I burn all bridges. I cut my backings in order to be fully engaged in the battle.
Standing in the middle toward the back I am trying to smile but I am unconfident. I am afraid that my face will be compared to those of the other two obviously love-struck couples. I try to hide myself from the truth.
Junli is holding the camera. It is he who has suggested the Pagoda of Six Harmonies. A symbolic place. We have six in our group. The lucky number. Always stand up tall like the pagoda, Junli says. He is a good director who knows how to inspire actors.
Dan is by Lucy on my right. They can't stay off each other. I am jealous of Lucy. In Dan's look God teaches the beauty of men. Dan could have anyone he wanted, but he chooses Lucy. Dan can't wait to belong to her. Surely they know happiness. Eryi and Lulu too. I am sad.
I can't tell what's on Tang Nah's mind. He seems nervous too. His beret is pressed low, almost covering his eyes. He places himself behind me as if he wants to be out of focus.
Thirty years later Madame Mao desperately wants to destroy this picture. She wants to erase every face shown here. It is 1967 and she is on her way to becoming the ruler of China. The aging Mao is her ticket. She has to prove to the nation that she had been Mao's love since her birth. She has to prove that there had been no one between her and Mao.
It is then Junli and Dan become the men-who-know-too-much. Madame Mao feels that she has no choice but to let them go.
Cut! Junli calls as he would on the set. The actors exhale. The group heads back to Shanghai the same night. Three days later they all attend a big reception. As expected, it catches the media's attention.
Tang Nah and Lan Ping are back home. But the marriage seems to be dead. They pretend that it is not bothering them. Both try to bury themselves in work. Yet there are no calls, no offers of roles for her. No business for Tang Nah either. Bills pile up. Money demons keep visiting from hell. But he still smiles, says that she is the biggest prize he has ever won. The rest he couldn't care less about. Broke or jobless, it doesn't bother me. I am a complete man as long as I have love.
She is in despair. You are not keeping your promises, she yells at Tang Nah. They are out of each other's bed. Can't be together yet can't be apart either. The bad pattern repeats.
Then they go out again to seek air and comfort in friends. They end up sleeping in other people's beds. He goes to the girl who wrote the letter, and she to Zhang Min, who is now working on a new play, The Storm, by the Russian playwright Ostrovsky. They deny their acts. It is becoming her new role in life. With Tang Nah it is a perfect scene.
In this scene she develops her own plot. When there is tension she makes the protagonist leave. She pulls out, disappears from the stage. Yet she is not able to turn her table around. Like her country she keeps falling apart. The Japanese troops enter in full force. The studios downsize. The box offices close. 1936. Absolutely no sign of luck.
Make up your mind and do it, I tell myself. I am packing and will be gone tonight. I will stay in a friend's place and will keep my address a secret. When I write the letter I imagine how Tang Nah will receive it. I give the letter to Junli. I ask Junli to pass the letter to Tang Nah when they are alone together. It is not that I trust Junli, or his wife Cheng. It is just that they will be the ones to sustain Tang Nah's anger. Junli will be the one to stop him from killing himself right on the spot-making me a true criminal. I will not be manipulated this time. I won't give Tang Nah another chance to control me.
I am sure you have been waiting for this letter. Well, this is the last time you will hear from me. I believe that you understand perfectly what kind of pain I must undertake in order to write this way. You have no idea how I suffered in order to save both of us. I need to leave in order to live. That is what I am telling myself. Banging my head, for I am numb, deaf, blind, and dead inside.
I'm trying to explain the contradiction of my feelings. How hard it is to tear myself away from this relationship. Our love operates in a very strange way. The darkness that didn't end until I met him. I explain what the departure means to me. Moments during which my nerves almost break down. Moments in which it is clear to me that life was not worth living.
You know how I tried. I lived to please you. I can't believe that this is the way I am supposed to feel happiness. To please you. I can't forget how we fought. The nastiness of it. Our selfishness. The moment that comes to me as an ending.
I break down every time I recall how you used to love me. The words you said when we walked along Nan-yang Boulevard in the evenings. It pulls me back, tells me to go on, to stick with youuntil the end of time. It tells me not to allow this pain to spoil my future. The pain is like a fish bone stuck in my throat-can't take it out yet can't swallow it. This is where I am. A fish bone stuck in the throat.
She feels the passion. The passion of speaking in a familiar voice, Nora's voice. The sensation of being on a real-life stage keeps her going. She is her role again. Like Nora she is struggling to break away. She tells Tang Nah-Torvald that she must depart.
I live to be recognized, to leave a trace, to be someone, mean something. I had expected to see the same effort from you, for you are a talented man. You ought not to waste your life. You ought to perform to your highest capacity. To show the world who you are. I hate it when I see you opiumed by those who you call friends. You claim to be an artist only to excuse yourself from obligations. It gives you a reason to be lazy.
Isn't it true even when writing that you are a last-minute person? You never turn your papers in before the printer begins to roll. To me it is a sign of weakness. I am shown here a man of no action, no goal. Worse, a man who, instead of confronting his shortcomings, hides them. You love to say that you're misunderstood, mistreated by society-you don't hesitate to make yourself a victim of fate. But you forget that I am in the same boat. By acting weak you are drowning me.
At any rate, I have suffered enough. You have made your problem mine. Don't think I am strong. It is just that I don't allow myself to be fragile, for I know I will break. I am sorry that I must leave. It's time for you to learn to walk on your own legs, learn to fix problems with your own hands. Or else it would be a shame to even mention that you and I were once lovers.
At last she mentions Aixia-she has finally found out the name of the girl in a poem he wrote inspired by her.
Although you have denied the affair and the poem, you have forgotten that I have learned my lesson. I am twenty-three, notthirteen. I know what love is, for I have loved and been loved. I know what it is like. You can't fool me. I can easily imagine the lines you two speak. The lines that you used to lure me. Believe me I know. Nevertheless I will always remember you as a man of warmth and kindness. Your feelings of love, even toward your enemy. Sometimes you are kind beyond reason. It always amazes me, because I am not at all like that. I don't put up with my enemy.
In a twist of fate, as if to compensate her, after dissolving her relationship with Tang Nah Lan Ping's career takes off. The hatred for the Japanese suddenly means that anti-Japanese movies are getting financed and produced and are becoming hits. Roles start to come her way. First the movie Blood on Wolf Mountain. She is cast as the wife of a soldier. Alone she fights a pack of wolves on screen. The vulnerable yet brave woman who fights without knowing whether she will ever win. Fights, knowing that she might be eaten before she gets to her next strike. A story about a simple woman, it is also about China's struggle under Japan's invasion. The acting is heartfelt and passionate.
Then the next movie, Old Bachelor Wang. Again she plays a heroic leading lady, Wang's wife. Again it is about a Chinese family that lives in poverty under the invasion of Japan. Again survival is the only theme. And she is extraordinary. At the end of the film, she carries her husband's dead body and swears to the camera: You can slice or shred me to a thousand pieces, but my spirit will never quit fighting!
My good luck ran out quickly. In the summer of 1937 Shanghai is under occupation. The flag of Japan flutters on top of the city's tallest building. The city is paralyzed. The last studio shuts down. I am totally broke and have moved in with Zhang Min. We have developed a great affection for each other. His wife has walked out because of me. But I wouldn't remarry. My relationship with Zhang Min is not that kind. Zhang Min is a harbor to and from which I come and go. I am here to rest but not to stay.
I was told the other day that Tang Nah had attempted another suicide. It was after receiving my letter from Junli. Apparently Junli couldn't stop him. He jumped into the Huangpu River. It was during the day and he was rescued. He should have done it at night if he didn't mean it to be a show. I knew his purpose. It was his way to get back at me, to blame me, to have all our friends, critics and the public alike, point their fingers at me. And they did. It was in the evening paper. My name meant selfishness-the opposite of the heroines I portray. The rumors damage my chance to play leading roles in the future. Once a villain, always a villain. My face lost its credibility overnight.
Tang Nah moved to Hong Kong right after the Communist liberation in 1949. He was wise. If he had stayed Madame Mao wouldn't have known what to do with him. Would he have ended up like Junli or Dan? Maybe Tang Nah knew that there would be trouble. He is a man of good vision.
The Pagoda of Six Harmonies stands like a silent man in deep thought against the velvet indigo sky. How many loves sworn and broken has it witnessed? I still taste my tears. I counted on it the moment we were pronounced husband and wife. God knows how much I wanted to be cured. I gave him everything. The man from Suzhou.
Now that I am finally leaving him all the good times come back to me. The memories, so vivid. He takes me in my dreams uninvited. I wake up screaming his name. It was after he explained to me his delirious notion of women. The way he worships the female body. He was not comfortable with his own body, especially not particularly proud of his member. He always left his shirt on when coming over me, like an eagle with its wings fully spread. His face hung upon my face. It was a rather funny picture.
He loved to keep the light on, low and dim. Each night he moved the light to a different angle, so he could see my body in different shades. He would put the light on a chair or on top of a closet, or under the bed. He watched me and would say that I had the body of a goddess. He worshiped my skin. Its ivory color. Strangely my skin doesn't age, Madame Mao said later. I have gone to places that are terrible for anyone's skin, but my skin stays unchanged.
I remember him lighting a cigarette, taking a drag and then puffing the smoke around my breasts. Like a dirty old man, he then lay back to watch the smoke make circles around my breasts. Aha, he would say. Aha, he would wink.
Aha, I would laugh, and get up to bring his tea. I took the opportunity to display myself, knowing this would please him. Stop, he would say, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray. Come here.
It could be anywhere, on a chair, or on a sofa, on the floor, or by the window, in a hallway, or sometimes just standing in the middle of the room, as if we were on stage.