北京麻雀 (Sparrows of Beijing)

北 Beijing 2008 - 10

10

In a bookstore, with people speaking English, In Beijing

Third Row

2008

It was, of course, loud. But more specifically it was in English kind of loud as opposed to a Chinese kind of loud. The bookstore was on two floors, which opened themselves in the main level and mezzanine conflagration that was contemporary in its structure. One could see a panoramic view from the outside with Windows that started just above the ground and rose to very nearly the top. But it was the noise that marked the space. There is a distinct difference – tonality is part of it. But it was not the only part of the distinct sound of a Western Indo-European, as opposed to a Chinese speaking of tongue. One could even capture a bit of text – Illusions to Ford Maddox Ford for example, or someone talking about how David Halberstam was at his best when writing about the best and the brightest, in a misremembered view of a war that was almost now half a century dead. Indeed, it could be said to be a literate mass of conversations which might be from Washington DC or London England. You would have to sort out which of the two it was. There were only a smattering of Chinese people, who knew more than could be allotted in Washington DC. And that was almost certainly intentional. Don’t want me, baby?¹

The décor of the room was that of a highly revealed bookstore in cream-colored white. One entered into the bookstore and saw one floor which was the sort of latte ensemble piece that one would find anywhere in the world which modeled itself as a bookseller. (There are many that remembered “that” but only the New Yorker remembered which was which.) Even if there were only two streets – one place would be this kind of place. But there was a second floor, Stretched around the mezzanine layer. It was more than one and a half stories up and was supported by innumerable rows of English language books – and almost all of them were new. Across from the entrance were lower escarpments which were the entrance to a labyrinth of bookshelves which were the needier of the place. It was in these lower-tiered rooms that people went to talk or to look like they were talking. As a guess, there were at least 50 people on the main floors, and one could see that there were people in the back as well. The one point of difference between Washington DC, and its real location – which was just barely in the first ring of Beijing – was that every single person was Chinese except for one, clearly, in charge, a Westerner who was at least 50 years old, and neatly groomed. It was evening – one could tell this by the large blinds which were across the windows – and it was covering the distinguished gentleman who was in charge of all of the goings-on in the place. One could see the redness of the setting sun on his face. Autrement dit come-ci come-ca. It seems like it’s 2 am.²

He looked up and recognized a face - that of the Chinese woman, but he did not recognize the Western face of the man, which was peculiar. He did not know that she was intimate with anyone, and it was an intimacy that exuded from her skin. She wore something like a Chinese style dress – a newness of rich style which would only be without a label; it had been made by a single gentleman from some warehouse district. This was not so uncommon in China, because every city had a busy district that catered to such people, because there were a sufficient number of well-to-do people who could afford to have one; some; or all of their clothes made by hand. In China it was a choice, some people preferred buying things at faintly pretentious stores, and doing so at least once a year; while others preferred to have their own things made by a tailor who made everything for them. It was a preference, and neither one made a statement. Normally, girls from large cities preferred the manufactured look, and there were other details that said that this young woman came from a much smaller town – which in Chinese style was 1 million people or so. She was, as was common to most, absurdly thin and he would guess from the Yangtze Delta because while all Chinese said they were pure Han, the reality was that people who came from the North – Beijing, etc. - had admixtures from the time that the Mongols invaded them. There was a difference then of style, which the Chinese recognized but did not acknowledge – and those people outside either did not recognize or quietly did not choose to recognize. It was part of the unacknowledged tail of Chinese genetics, a hushed world under the Dragon veil. The absurdly thin meant that she was newly ensconced as a member of the Communist Party because all of the older ladies had a pleasing plumpness which attracted the older men who thought of it as natural and normal. Her face was round, as was the custom among the very well-read Chinese, this too, was odd, because normally such women would be on the arm of a Chinese man; because their status was too high for most men to attain. Normally, such women could have their pick of the wealth of Chinese men, and they were seeking to have children almost immediately.

He did not like to say this, but generally, when a woman is both thin, and deliberately has on her arms something other than a Chinese gentleman, and is that good-looking, it means that she does not want children at the moment. And there would be a reason for this, one only had to look closely for what it was. It could be that she is infertile, either naturally or through an abortion, and thus could choose a man based on her own proclivities having had the option of children taken away from her. This was said to him through the stages of trying out the range of companions. If one wanted a Chinese, as opposed to a Chinese American, which was different in body type, one had to gather one from the dock, so to speak, when the natural ways of breeding were reversed. Because if a woman in Western lands was looking for a man, then her parents would select Chinese men first, it was only when a Chinese lady uncluttered with parents had the liberty of selecting whichever gentleman she wanted. Thus, it was a very small proportion who chose who to spend their gaze upon. Such was not the case for Chinese hyphens, who could do as they wanted. There was always a story to one looked: electricity so fine.³

Inside he knew that his story was different, and if he looked in detail at it, a different story would emerge from the details. First of all, he was part of the second generation of men who were interested in Chinese women, and there were very few of them about. And as it happened, he was interested in truly Chinese women, which, as said, had a different style. Since he was far down the wealth ladder, the Chinese women who were attracted to him were, in fact, the pleasingly plump, and more than pleasingly plump females that were the children of Communist Party officials. Younger men did not have to plan for such things and could be very selective; men his age either had to look for a much junior partner or realize that their choices were limited by the Great Leap Forward. This was a time of great famine, and the parents who were not communist party officials had to make do with one child, which most of them preferred to be male, so much so, that young babies, who were female were often exposed as a child. That is to say, they died. Give a little bit of heart and soul.⁴

Rou Shi⁵ wrote in 1930, that poverty was the main cause of female infanticide in China. This was practiced until very late on in the 20th century, and the great leap forward clung to China like a great demon whose maw grasped and strangled the young females. Then communist party enacted a law saying that if the first child was a girl, they would have a second chance to have a son. Which only moved down to the second child the gruesome practice. But by 1984 there was an entire generation that had an imbalance because, to the Chinese mind, young females were to go and take care of their husband's parents in their old age; especially in the South, and along the Yang-Tzu River Delta. This gap between realizing that there were too many females and correcting this amounted to some 20 years. Which, in the cosmic scale of things, is not long at all, but two individual members of society, created a warp and weft in the fabric of space-time. In essence, for 20 years there was a deficit of young, thin, Chinese ladies. Those who came after this time of the Great Leap Forward (Though, very often a person from China would never use the “the”) did not know that it even existed because no one talked about it, it was too shameful to mention. In Shanghai, it was almost over, and in Beijing it was tiny – but in the smaller cities, it was still enormous. Deep, Suspicious, and most importantly, away from the seascape, cities that protect their males and expose their females. It is a nasty vicious cycle – which is ended in the great Metropolitan regions, but it still has value, because the most gorgeous ladies take advantage. Such is the way of finding a mate – because in the rarefied atmosphere of Beijing and Shanghai, even though there are much less (not fewer!) – those still some – advantages for the women, and the desire is more intense. As one gets close to the three major cities – Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong – the greater mobility to alight in the main metropolitan area there is.

But this all to just a moment to think of, and already he was moving on to other things – forgetting the young woman, because it was obvious that he knew something about her that her boyfriend did not know – he knew that, in all probability, she was not going to produce a child for him. He could tell this by the look that her boyfriend had because the boyfriend thought that there was a chance of this. Low what fools these mortals be, as the great English poet once said. (What kind of fool am I?)⁶

Thus, he looked around for the lady which he was attracted to, and for very different reasons. He was not interested in the look, she was plain and ordinary, what he was interested in was the delicate way she would disassemble, and then reassemble the most ordinary of things – and find extraordinary circumstances behind them. It was at this point that he realized that many of the things he had been thinking of – she must already have known, perhaps before the thought had coalesced in his consciousness. Once this thought occurred to him, the next thought appeared – she must know, better than he – that she still had a chance to capture his heart in marriage. He looked around at all of the bookshelves and display cases and realized that if he wanted to be married, he would have to decide this soon, or else be captured without even knowing it. Then it came to his attention that that could have already happened, and he should decide not here he was going to be married – because in fact that decision had probably already been made – but whether he was going to agree to this. He realized if you get out before, that men were the last people to know if they did not grab the chance before their eyes.

Then he thought what a beautiful thing 500 words were, they compressed thoughts to the minimum, and he realized that everything that was superfluous would have to be dispensed with. Thank you, Mister James Joyce, thank you. It was you that waxed poetically, in a turn of phrase, about how liberating painting on the smallest of canvases was, even though you were making modern style; it was with the precision of an old master. There are geniuses who make you feel smart, and there are geniuses who make you feel stupid - and Joyce was clearly the latter. As the clock strikes 12.⁷

And voicing around the corners of the narrative, was an unseen character – and narrator of un-fact and fiction – which flitted around the subject and spoke to you the reader explaining things that the characters either did not notice or did not care to notice. In this case, how the ages would change the structure as new periods came to light. Don’t you make me beg for more.⁸

1 The Human League, “Don't You Want Me”

2 Golden Εarring, “Twilight Zone”

3 Joe Jackson, “Steppin' Out”

4 T'Pau, “Heart And Soul”

5 Rou Shi (1902－7 February 1931) Member of the May 4th Movement.

6 Robert Plant, “Heaven Knows”

7 Robert Plant, “Heaven Knows”

8 T'Pau, “Heart And Soul”