How Cultural Revolution in China inspired new book
Some people ask if my new novel, “Forbidden City,” is autobiographical. Well — no. I was never the teenage protegee of Mao Zedong!
The question reflects a common curiosity among literature fans about what, if anything, in a work of fiction is true, and in nonfiction, what is made up.
As I count down to the release of the book on Tuesday, May 10, I’ll share what inspired my protagonist, Mei — a strong-willed, quick-witted teenager who enters the Chairman’s inner circle and alters the course of the Cultural Revolution.
A decade and a half ago, I came across an intriguing black-and-white photo: Mao surrounded by giggling young women. It turned out he was a fan of ballroom dancing and had special troupes of dancers who partnered with him.
According to Mao’s doctor, the experience was “the most uplifting, exciting, exhilarating experience (these women) would know.”
I knew the relationships had to be more complicated, especially for those who stayed on as his confidential clerks, nurses and companions. And as the American-born daughter of Chinese immigrants, I’d always been curious about this tumultuous chapter of the country’s modern history.
The Cultural Revolution has also shaped the work of Guo Pei and Hung Liu, artists whose work is on view at the Legion of Honor (Guo Pei) and the de Young and the Oakland Museum of California (Liu).
At the sumptuous “Guo Pei: Couture Fantasy” show, the designer sought to revive laborintensive dressmaking techniques nearly lost in an era that attacked old ways and old thinking. The “Da Jin” (“Magnificent Gold”) gown, embroidered with silk thread and encrusted in sequins, took 50,000 hours to create — mindboggling in the age of fast fashion and eternal athleisure.
At the museum, I overheard a mother jokingly tell her children, “Look at that raiment! Should I wear that to school pickup?” They gazed upon a dress covered in synthetic opals and Swarovski crystals, topped by a jeweled cross as a headpiece.
In the fascinating 2018 documentary “Yellow Is Forbidden,” Guo
Pei shares the story of her drab childhood during the Cultural Revolution, when she craved color and asked her grandmother for a yellow dress. Her grandmother refused; commoners couldn’t wear such colors, she said. After that early deprivation, Guo Pei rebelled by creating a rainbow array of dresses.
The designs, which incorporate traditional Chinese motifs, also reflect Guo Pei’s cultural and artistic influences, including European art, architecture and historical fashion.
The mix of themes rings familiar to me, too. I’ve likened my own inspirations to dust kicked up in the clouds, vapor condensing around each particle until it gets heavy enough for a raindrop to fall, seeding the cloud until it finally gets heavy enough to release the rain.
Across the bay in Oakland, in “Remembering Hung Liu,” the artist’s paintings reflect how she came of age under Mao. During the Cultural Revolution, she was sent to the countryside to labor in the fields for four years before she went on to study art in Beijing and later in San Diego. Liu, who died on Aug. 7, was a professor emeritus at Mills College.
“The Heroine of Gu Yanxiu,” inspired by a patriotic children’s books, depicts the women plowing the field as revolutionary labor. Hawks soar above them; Liu often added plants and animals as offerings to her otherwise anonymous 19th and 20th century subjects.
Likewise, my protagonist, Mei, also grew up galvanized by the stories of model revolutionaries. In my novel, I wanted the portray her truth — a truth that was emblematic of the millions of impoverished women who shaped China in their own ways yet remain absent from the official narrative.