respected as master of the house was now brought to me under escort. I wanted to hug him and weep. But people were watching me, so I resisted the impulse. He walked up, gripped my hand, and looked at me with his sparkling eyes. He was the same man he had always been. His grip was still firm, and so were his eyes. We stood gazing at one another, like people who could never gaze enough.
The duty officer sent us into the reception area, two rooms connected by a small window. Normally, the visitor and the visited were probably separated by the window, but we were allowed to sit opposite one another across a table. Secretary Shi sat in the other room.
Neither of us knew who should say the first word. Finally, I started:
‘You’re well, I hope. Did you receive the things I brought?
‘I’m well. Yes, I received them.’
‘The children send their greetings.’
‘Oh!’ His eyes widened and began to flash.
‘Xiaoshan finishes high school next year. Xiaofeng didn’t get into university, she has become a farm labourer.’
‘Good. Let Xiaoshan be a worker.’
‘They all hope you can come home soon. You must strengthen your thought reform.’
‘How can you do thought reform in solitary confinement?’
The secretary in the next room snorted. F shot him a glance and fell silent.
I felt miserable and awkward. When the secretary had told me of the visit, he had made clear I was to help F. But how could I help?
‘You can examine idealist literary thought, that’s probably the main issue.’
I immediately regretted my remark. All I could see were his two eyes piercing me. In the past, he would have flown into a rage, but now he lowered his head with a pained expression and let out a long sigh.
‘You had best not ask about that, that’s a problem I can’t solve. If I’m wrong about literary thought, that’s a question of understanding, not of politics.’
‘Wouldn’t it be even better to improve your knowledge? Idealism isn’t so terrible. Even Hegel needed Marx to correct his idealism. Wouldn’t it be better if you yourself were to investigate and correct possible idealism in your literary thought? Who can say he is one hundred per cent Marxist?’
He was really angry, but he managed to control himself. The secretary at the window gave me a look, perhaps to express satisfaction.
F changed the subject.
‘I’ve written a lot of poems – well, not written, but composed and memorised. Some are for you, some are for the children. I’ll recite one for you, perhaps you’ll understand it. I called the one about you “In Praise of Long-Lasting Love”:
‘Despite hardship, you are still devoted to your teaching.
When you see young people, it is as if you see spring.
The world is often difficult,
But you delight in people’s passion.
You can plant beautiful roses
But you can’t buy bread.
You turn myths into children’s stories,
Your heart is always young.
‘There are lots more verses, ten in all. I called my poem about Xiaofeng “In Praise of Goodness”, all I can remember are some bits from near the end:
‘When you were young,
You were separated from your parents
By great distances.
The Pacific War broke out,
And families were dispersed.’
I started sobbing.
‘Please don’t be sad. Let’s recite Xiaoshan’s. It’s called “In Praise of Dreaming”:
‘You asked your daddy when you wanted him to buy you books,
You shouted for mummy when you wanted your pencil sharpened.
Big sister has a loud voice,
Grandma has hearing problems.
‘It also has ten verses.’
‘I won’t be able to memorise them for the children.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I have another called “In Praise of the Forget-Me-Not”. The prison superintendent asked me to write down my thoughts about revisionism. I’ll recite a few lines:
‘The forget-me-not thinks far ahead.
It thinks of the past to look into the future.
Retirement is not the same as degradation,
It doesn’t change one’s piety.
Emotional in battle,
Your pursuits keep you busy far into the night.
Strive to avoid being wasteful in your work,
Be creative but avoid empty talk.
Do all you can to convey a true sense of responsibility,
Sincerely explain how to be successors in the cause.’
The cadre barked out, ‘No more poems, if you have anything to say, say it quickly.’
F had been happily reciting, I looked at him in confusion. He shook his head and stood up to go, as if humiliated. I could feel things weren’t going well, so I pushed him back onto the chair.
‘I brought you some biscuits, you can have one when you feel hungry. I also brought you a bag of glucose, a jar of apple purée, and two packets of chocolate. Is there anything else you would like? Oh, I intended to bring you that set of Marx and Engels’ Complete Works in Japanese, but I was afraid I might get lost, so I left it at home. I’ll bring it next time. I also brought a tai-chi chart. I hope you can learn how to do tai-chi from it. You must look after your health, and exercise properly.’
‘I will, I can do that in the cell. Next time bring some books, food’s not important.’
‘I’ve heard it’s not easy to buy good books.’
‘Have you finished?’ urged the cadre.
‘Tell the children I wish them happiness. If my son Xiaogu returns, don’t let him come here.’
He was led away. At the door, he turned round and shook my hand, with a smile.
The smile consoled me. It was like the smiles he used to give me.
Holding back my tears, I left. When I reached the entrance, the sentry stopped me. Secretary Shi came rushing over and we stood by the gate until the pock-marked duty officer arrived to sign my visitor’s form. Then the guard let me out.
I had set out at six and arrived at ten. Now, it was eleven. I waited for the bus and squeezed aboard. At Shahe, I changed again. It was gone three when I arrived home. I was exhausted and sank onto the bed.
Was there anyone I could share my agony with? Anyone to listen to me cry my heart out? No. Gradually, I drifted into a lethargic sleep, but I jolted awake at the thought that my youngest son would soon be back. I jumped off the bed, pulled myself together, and went into the kitchen.
Ten years. Finally I’d seen him and knew he was alive. After years of numbness, I was unable to calm down. Now I was waiting for my son, so I could share my feelings.
The first thing he asked was ‘Did you see father?’
‘What do you mean, father?’
He corrected himself: ‘You saw him, you saw dad!’
‘Yes,