Awakening China: Value Subversion in Lu Xun's Short Stories
by Skylar Hamel
In the "Preface" to Call to Arms, Lu Xun reveals his goal for the Chinese: "The most important thing, therefore, was to change their spirit, and since at that time I felt that literature was the best means to this end, I determined to promote a literary movement" (5). Lu Xun didn't stop at encouraging this movement from the outside. Instead, he wrote works that were designed to change the ways of thinking that formed societal norms for the Chinese people. Lu Xun was pivotal to the development of Chinese modernism, which “helps to bring an epistemological break and to introduce a challenge and crisis to the ideological establishment in contemporary China" (Tang 1224). Lu Xun described this break in terms of an iron house:
Imagine an iron house without windows, absolutely indestructible, with many people fast asleep inside who will soon die of suffocation. But you know since they will die in their sleep, they will not feel the pain of death. Now if you cry aloud to wake a few of the lighter sleepers, making those unfortunate few suffer the agony of irrevocable death, do you think you are doing them a good turn? But if a few awake, you can't say there is no hope of destroying the iron house. (6)
Lu Xun attempted to call for a social awakening of China through his literature. He attempts to provoke this awakening through reversals of typical values. The "Diary of a Madman" revalues an otherwise disrespected condition. "Kong Yiji" and "Medicine" devalue highly treasured Chinese traditions. Lu Xun provides a background that places the object in its typical and expected interpretation while undermining that viewpoint for his reader in these short stories.
In the "Diary of a Madman," Lu Xun reverses the value placed on madness. First, he ensures that his audience understands the situation is dire and negative. The madman is "seriously ill" and is an "invalid" (8). Even before the diary begins, the reader has been prepared for a "confused and incoherent" narrative that should not be taken as anything more than a record for "medical research" (8). “The introductory passage, composed in semi esoteric, classical style, functionally establishes a present moment or reality with which a contemporary reader is invited to identify . . . He expresses the common view of paranoia as a disorder that, one hopes, can be cured” (Tang 1230). Lu Xun wisely includes this viewpoint in the frame, making it the societal view of the individual plot. That community's perspective is evidenced throughout the story by the madman's interpretation of the people around him. The children look at the man as though they are afraid of him (Lu Xun 9) and his brother and the doctor turn pale at his insane laughter (11). The crowd that gathers to look at him is told to clear off because there is no point of looking at a madman (15). Lu Xun makes it clear that madness is not an acceptable or laudable trait according to the current society.
Lu Xun reverses the worth of the madman through the hidden truth of the madman's writing. "The symbolism of the Diary, for all its force, is rational and referential, in a word, allegorical" (Hanan 68). When the diary is read as an allegory, the diarist is empowered with a means to a greater truth than the "sane" citizens can achieve. The narrator of the diary sees everyone as openly cannibalistic. He reads a book covered with "Confucian Virtue and Morality" but can only see the words "Eat people" (Lu Xun 10). By the last entry, the narrator says that he is part of a system of eating people, and that he has been fed the flesh of his sister (Lu Xun 16).
The allegorical interpretation translates "eating people" into an understanding of a critique of Chinese society; the Chinese, in Lu Xun's view, don't care about each other and sacrifice each other without any moral qualms. The ledgers that the narrator challenged represent the history and feudal society that created a systematic selfishness and apathy. Furthermore, Lu Xun delivers a well-aimed critique at a particular group within that society; the critic Lung-Kee Sun points out that the madman “fails to understand . . . why the conspiracy to have him eaten also includes ‘those people, some of whom have been pilloried by the magistrate, slapped in the face by the local gentry, had their wives taken away by bailiffs or their parents driven to suicide by creditors.’ Here, Lu Xun's message is clear: The oppressed masses . . . are accomplices in the destruction of their enlighteners” (464). Madness reveals the truth of the oppression that citizens, both the empowered and the oppressed, fail to see. Lu Xun has skillfully united madness and enlightenment, thus elevating madness for those who are willing to awaken. The better role to play in the modern society is that of the madman from this story, for he at least knows the truth.
The branding of the enlightened as mad reappears in "Medicine." In that short story, one young man is executed for his revolutionary ideas while another boy is believed to be cured by medicine dipped in blood at the execution. Again, Lu Xun elevates the worth of the "madman" and critiques the insensitivity of the Chinese system. At the tea-house, the robust conversation comes to an immediate halt when Kang tells of the revolutionary's pity for his own executioner. The only response is to label the revolutionary as a madman-- "Sorry for Red-eye [the executioner]--crazy! He must have been crazy!" (Lu Xun III)--and continue their lives without true enlightenment. The revolutionary is juxtaposed with the masses at the tea house. The martyr's death is presented "through the mundane concerns of the teahouse owner and the callous conversation of the teahouse habitués" (Hanan 64). The masses cannot be brought to care about the death of an innocent young man while that very person cares even about his executioner. Lu Xun cements the interpretation of the revolutionary as the respectable character through the imagery of the graveyard scene. The grave of the revolutionary has a wreath of red and white flowers. "There were not many, but they were placed in a circle; and although not very fresh, were neatly set out. Little Chuan's mother looked round and found her own son's grave, like most of the rest, dotted with only a few little pale flowers shivering in the cold" (Lu Xun IV). The colored wreath presents a strong contrast to the paltry flowers on the other graves. The people can call the revolutionary a madman, but that doesn't stop his legacy being one of beauty that exceeds that of others. The flowers are an affirmation of the revolutionary's cause.
Just as important in the value reversals of "Medicine" is the complete devaluation of the medicine itself. Once more, Lu Xun provides the value context in the setting and background while providing his interpretation through the plot. In the tea-house, the reader is first denied knowledge of what the father's mission will be. The reader is given signs that this plan is not positive. The author focuses on the silence and darkness, and includes negative descriptions of the crowds. One man's "eyes shone with a lustful light, like a famished person's at the sight of food" while others wander "like lost souls" (Lu Xun I). The man who delivers the bloody bread has "eyes like daggers" and is hostile towards Old Chuan (Lu Xun I). Finally, at the end of the first chapter, the solution is revealed: "Whose sickness is this for?" (Lu Xun I). The author tells his readers that the bloody bread is medicine, and has already introduced the sick character. The scene establishes the author's negative view of the execution, but also establishes society's acceptance and even eagerness to embrace the violence. The question that "someone" seems to ask, “Whose sickness. . . ?” (I), serves a dual-purpose. By the end of the story, the author will make it clear that the society itself is sick, not just one little boy. The tea-house scene further confirms the societal view of the medicine and the execution that was used to make it. The customers at the tea-house warm to Mr. Kang and his repeated assurances of "a great stroke of luck" and "a guaranteed cure" (Lu Xun III). They hang on to his words and disregard the child's coughing. The medicine is deemed a cure and the source of the medicine is validated as acceptable and even laudable.
Ultimately, the plot's resolution undermines the value and security of the medicine that was present throughout the story. The guaranteed cure has failed, and now both boys are buried in the same graveyard. "The serried ranks of grave mounds on both sides looked like the rolls laid out for a rich man's birthday" (Lu Xun IV). The poor child has died as has the revolutionary; both deaths only serve the rich elite. The faith in medicine and the system from which it was obtained ultimately doesn't help the common man of China. As madness was conflated with enlightenment and made positive, faith in traditional medicine becomes a part of blind faith in the societal norms and is made negative.
The attack on traditional norms is also a central part of "Kong Yiji." First, the setting establishes the value structure. The poor men stand outside and partake of warm wine and bamboo shoots. "As for those in long gowns, they go into the inner room to order wine and dishes and sit drinking at their leisure" (Lu Xun 17). Long coats are established as a symbol of power, education and wealth. Then, Kong Yiji is introduced. "Kong Yiji was the only long-gowned customer who used to drink his wine standing." Kong Yiji is a scholar, but not privileged. His example serves as an attack on the educational system. "Kong Yiji had studied the classics but never passed the official examination and, not knowing how to make a living, he had grown steadily poorer until he was almost reduced to beggary" (Lu Xun 18). His education doesn't make him competent. He can write "aniseed" and "hui" four different ways, but cannot afford to eat more than a few aniseeds (Lu Xun 19). "He used so many archaisms in his speech that half of it was barely intelligible" (Lu Xun 18). Kong Yiji can't even talk to the common man. The training provided by the educational system is simply not functional. Lu Xun reverses the value of the educated, long-gowned elite by showing the reader the usefulness of that education outside of the privileged subculture.
Kong Yiji also reflects Lu Xun's continuous subtext of apathy as inherent in the Chinese culture of his time. Throughout the story, Kong Yiji visibly suffers greater and greater hardships. By the story's end, he is trying to survive crawling with two broken legs. The only response of the populace is derision. "Several people had gathered round, and they all laughed with the boss" (Lu Xun 20). Even the children are trained to laugh at and to tease Kong Yiji. The rejection is complete.
That rejection and disinterest towards one's fellow man would be a recurrent theme for Lu Xun. It represents a great part of the moral slumber of those trapped in the iron house. With his works, Lu Xun tried to shout; he tried to awaken those who would dare to think and to fight for change. To break them from the security of the status quo, Lu Xun provoked thought through his writing. He deconstructed the typical value system to force the reader to interpret the mundane and accepted from a new perspective. This technique is prevalent in his short stories, such as "The Madman's Diary," "Medicine," and "Kong Yiji." When Lu Xun died, he was effectively deified by the government his ideas had helped put into place; his views however, were often changed to suit the whim of those who used him for their symbol (Goldman 446-7). His works have now been used to support a new status quo. One must wonder what Lu Xun would think of his current interpretation in the political sphere. Would he say that the Iron House has been broken? Did the spirit of China ever reach the potential he had hoped? Or does China need another Lu Xun, subverting the system and forcing his countrymen to awaken to a new perspective?
Works Cited
Hanan, Patrick. “The Technique of Lu Hsun's Fiction.” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 34 (1974): 53-96. JSTOR. Web. 16 Oct. 2009.
Goldman, Merle. “The Political Use of Lu Xun.” The China Quarterly 91 (1982): 446-461. JSTOR. Web. 16 Oct. 2009.
Lu Xun. “A Madman’s Diary.” Trans. Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang. The Columbia Anthology of Modern Chines Literature. Ed. Joseph S.M. Lau and Howard Goldblatt. New York: Columbia UP, 2007. 8-16. Print.
--. “Kong Yiji.” Trans. Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang. The Columbia Anthology of Modern Chines Literature. Ed. Joseph S.M. Lau and Howard Goldblatt. New York: Columbia UP, 2007. 17-21. Print.
--. “Medicine.” Trans. Yang Hsien-yi and Gladys Yang. Selected Stories of Lu Hsun. Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1960. N pag. Coldbacon.com. Web. 14 Sep. 2009.
--. “Preface to the First Collection of Short Stories, Call to Arms.” Trans. Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang. The Columbia Anthology of Modern Chines Literature. Ed. Joseph S.M. Lau and Howard Goldblatt. New York: Columbia UP, 2007. 3-7. Print.
Sun, Lung-Kee. “To Be or Not to Be "Eaten": Lu Xun's Dilemma of Political Engagement.” Modern China 12.4 (1986): 459-485. JSTOR. Web. 16 Oct. 2009.
Tang, Xiaobing. “Lu Xun's "Diary of a Madman" and a Chinese Modernism.” PMLA 107.5 (1992): 1222-1234. JSTOR. Web. 16 Oct. 2009.
