Becoming Madame Mao - Anchee Min [121]
It must be Jiang Ching, then, Fairlynn concludes. Her evil hand must be behind this curtain.
***
This is not a fantasy, I tell the leading actress of my opera. The heroine is real. She has come through hardship. I want you to treat the red paint on your chest as a real wound. Feel its burn. Feel its consuming power. You are being eaten alive and are crying without being heard. Project your voice to its fullest range.
I come to the studio and meet my chief, Yu. I work with him closely on the filming. I am pleased with the progress. The details especially. The color of a patch on the protagonist's pants. The shape of her eyebrows. I like the sound quality of the drums in the background and the orchestra. I have gathered the top artists of the nation. I enjoy every expression on my favorite actress Lily Fong's face and I like the way they light her. I have told the crew that I will allow no imperfection. I order retakes. Endless retakes. I don't pass them until the footage is flawless. At the moment three thousand cultural workers are laboring on my projects. The cafeteria is open twenty-four hours a day. Yu finds me catching myself from falling asleep during my own speech. I am too tired.
Can I stop? It is a bloody battle with invisible swords. The choice is life or death. The other day I visited Mao and witnessed the deterioration of his health—he can no longer get himself out of the rattan chair without assistance. This frightened me. A house won't stay if the center beam falls. But I hide my fear. I have to. The nation and my enemies are watching my performance. I face a scary audience.
I phone Yu. Let's discuss how to make the political message in the operas exciting to the working class. We are courting the youth—it is crucial to my survival that they identify with my heroine. The loving and caring goddess who selflessly sacrifices herself for the people.
Yu picks actresses who resemble my look to play the lead. He comforts me.
I come to the set after conducting the day's affairs. I feel at home in the studios. That has always been the case. The lights soothe me. Mao has gone south again on his train. I have no idea where he is. He keeps his schedule a secret. And changes his mind often. I am trying to mind my own business. I am trying to think of the good Mao has done for me and must remind myself constantly to be grateful.
Indeed, I should be content about how things have finally worked out for me. With Dee commandeering the set, my films are coming out. The silent bullets that lie in the chambers of his soldiers' guns speak louder than my voice ever could.
On October 1, 1969, Taking the Tiger Mountain by Wit is released and is a hit. Within weeks, I hear its arias being sung on the streets. To make the script available to the public, I order it published in its entirety in People's Daily and the Liberation Army Daily. It takes up the whole paper and there is no space for other news or events.
In the next few months Story of a Red Lantern is completed and released to theaters nationwide. It is followed by two three-hour ballet films, The Women of the Red Detachment and The White-Haired Girl, and the opera films The Harbor, The Sha Family Pond and Raid the White Tiger Division.
What a feeling! I can't go anywhere without being congratulated.
Story of a Red Lantern is so popular that Mao expresses his desire to view it. I take it as an honor and accompany him to his private viewing booth. He likes