An Interview with Mr. Wang Ruowang

Kyna Rubin

Introduction

The overthrow of the" gang of four "in the autumn of 1976 gave rise to a flourishing of literary themes untouched for many years in China. The first major sign of thematic breakthrough appeared with the short story "The Wounded" in 1978. Written by Fudan University student Lu Xinhua, "The Wounded" was an indictment of life under the harsh policies of the "gang of four." The young writer presented a moving portrayal of one young woman's tragic misfortune due to her blind faith in the regime's rigid policies. From this story blossomed a great number of similar emotional exposures of the cruelties suffered under the "gang," and thus emerged a new genre of literature called" literature of the wounded." Although usually technically immature, these stories were very well received among the general populace thrilled to read at last truthful, if over dramatized, portrayals of what they themselves had seen or experienced all those years.

After the initial jubilation over the fall of the "gang" died down, serious questions began to arise: now that the root of evil in the top leadership has been spotted and eliminated, how do we go about getting China back on its feet? How do we begin to rebuild the national economy after so many years of lost production? How do we upgrade our educational, scientific, technological, and agricultural facilities? Older, skilled personnel must be restored to their former positions and the young must be trained to take their place soon. Most important, China is a large country and the surviving remnants of" gang of four "thinking and methods will not disappear overnight. How shall they be erased?

With these new questions grew the need for a new kind of literature. "Literature of the wounded" had been bold for its time. It had been necessary for revealing the crimes committed under the" gang's "rule. But it became outmoded when the mood of the nation turned towards the present and the future.

"Literature of the wounded" was most noticeably replaced in the autumn of 1979 by works with a new, more controversial content-present-day Party corruption, juvenile delinquency, love, and ordinary daily life unadorned. The presentation of these issues represented a real literary breakthrough, for not since 1957 had writers dared to touch upon such themes. Through works such as Liu Binyan's" Between Man and Demon" (" Ren yao zhi jian ") which exposed the criminal activities of the real-life female extortionist and Party member Wang Shouxin, writers offered their response to the new call for national modernization: China's hope lay in the exposure of its burdensome feudalistic and bureaucratic political, social, and economic structure. Only a more democratic system of leadership on all levels can diminish the gap between the cadres and the masses, the rulers and the ruled. Only through opening the country to beneficial external influences can China gain the place it deserves on the world stage.

This was not a new response. Writers had seen themselves as the spokesmen of the people from the May Fourth Movement in 1919 to Yan'an in 1942, to the Hundred Flowers Campaign in 1956. Now, as in previous times, they felt an enormous social responsibility to serve their country through their craft. In 1979, some were middle-aged Communist Party members who had been severely criticized or punished for speaking out in the past, and some were new young writers eager to cure the ills of the present society. One very important distinction must be made between these Chinese writers and their "dissident" colleagues in the Soviet Union: unlike the latter, the former are firm supporters of the socialist system. Their literature was not aimed at undermining Party solidarity and integrity. Encouraged by the official decree given at the end of 1978 to "liberate the mind" and "let a hundred flowers bloom" once again, they began to create some of the most popular literature since 1957.

This new kind of literature became known as "literature which delves into life" (ganyu shenghuo de wenxue). In concrete terms, the new works differ from the previous anti-“gang” “literature of the

wounded” in that they expose the crimes of those presently in power, and social ills that can no longer be blamed on the" gang of four." This literature is characterized by its merciless attack on current bureaucratic corruption, elitist thinking among Party cadres, and any other social problems that writers identify as formidable obstacles to China's modernization drive. As one writer in support of the new themes asked, "If writers can commit mistakes, why can't politicians?"

Those who find this literature offensive condemn it for "smearing the faces of all Party cadres and the dictatorship of the proletariat." They argue that the characters and situations depicted are not "typical" (dianxing) cases, and are therefore not true to life. However, the widespread popular support for these literary works bears witness to the truthfulness of the portraits. Audiences and readers have not seen such realistic plays and literature for more than two decades.

The appearance of short stories, poems, and novels which graphically describe everything from the activities of a female hoodlum to the adulterous relationship between a cadre's wife and a young man aspiring to be transferred from the countryside has sparked off a debate over just how far writers should go in depicting the dark side of present-day society. The debate is not new, for ever since 1942 in Yan'an, this has been one of the most sensitive questions for writers in China.

The Fourth National Writers' Conference held in October and November of 1979 focused on just this controversial issue. A unanimous consensus was not reached, but participants felt free to air their personal views and many different standpoints were given voice. The new "literature which delves into life" was apparently supported by the majority, although moderation was encouraged. After the Conference, very few works as controversial as those published in the early autumn appeared.

By February, the brave new literature suffered a major setback with the new slogan emphasized at the Drama Conference held in Beijing that same month: "Writers must consider the social effects (shehui xiaoguo) of their works." In response to a handful of very popular exposure-type theatre scripts [most notably, If I Were Real (Jiaru wo shi zhende)], some already performed publicly, some for" internal" audiences, the' authorities began to clamp down by criticizing writers for not anticipating the social effect of their writing. This is ironic, to be sure, for it was precisely social awareness in a positive sense that the writers were consciously presenting to their readers. The crux of the issue was, and still is, whether the exposure of the negative side of present daily life will have a destructive or a constructive effect on Chinese audiences and readers. Those who fear a destructive effect are the people whose positions of power are threatened by such exposure, and the conservative

upholders of the socialist system who quickly jump to the inaccurate conclusion that the very system itself is being questioned.

On the other hand, authors of such realistic works and their supporters earnestly believe that literature as a mirror of reality aids social progress in a constructive way. Like a mirror, literature does not spare the ugly. It reflects both the good and the bad. Only through an objective portrayal of society can that society hope for advancement. It is not the socialist system that is being called into question by the majority of these writers, but the weaknesses and failings of the human beings who carry it out.

Perhaps the most eloquent spokesmen in favour of criticizing political and social ills for the sake of erasing them are the middle-aged and older writers who worked so hard in the past to establish a better society, but who suffered at the hands of the" gang of four "regime for doing so.

While living in Shanghai from the autumn of 1979 to the summer of 1980, I had the honour of meeting one such spokesman of the older generation, Mr. Wang Ruowang. "I'm telling you the facts, the truth. Even if it were my own brother or my wife disagreeing with me, I'd have to debate with them." These opening words embody this man's fighting spirit. As present co-editor of Shanghai wenxue, former "anti-revolutionary" and "rightist," Mr. Wang is relatively unknown to the western world, even to those studying modern Chinese literature. But in China he enjoys immense popularity among readers, especially among young people who find his direct and honest style of social, political, and literary commentary so refreshing after over a decade of lifeless and insincere literary dogma which never came close to reflecting the real issues and concerns of the majority of the Chinese people. Since his full rehabilitation in February of 1979, Mr. Wang has wasted no time in lashing out against the atrocities committed by the" gang of four." But what sets him apart from other writers who have also taken up their pens again after many years of forced silence, is the extent to which he has gone to dissect, with characteristic wit, irony, and humour, the origins and current strategies of what he views as the present-day enemies of social and literary progress: the leaders in the literary world who since the overthrow of the" gang of four" in 1976 have not thoroughly carried out the recent call to" liberate the mind" and" let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend." Wang Ruowang has paid a heavy price for adhering to his convictions. At the age of 16 he was jailed by the Guomindang for his underground work for the Communist Party in Shanghai. During the Cultural Revolution he was, ironically, imprisoned by the Communist Party, but not the Party for which he had fought during his youth, rather, as he calls it, the "counterfeit" Party controlled by the "gang of four." Considering the severe personal losses he has suffered, at the age of 62, Mr. Wang is in exceptionally good shape. He appears to be as stubborn, principled, and outspoken as ever. A frank, warm, and lively conversationalist, he is all too aware of how fortunate he is to have maintained his physical and mental health when he had been witness to the bodily and spiritual destruction of so many of his colleagues and friends who, unlike himself, were unable to withstand the torment of the

political movements of the past few decades.

The following interview is based on three separate sittings with Mr. Wang in the spring and summer of 1980, as well as on material he has provided written by himself and others concerning his life and writings. The first part of the response to my initial question is translated from Mr. Wang's autobiographical sketch. It is lengthy, but necessary as background material. If his answers sometimes seem to lack continuity, jump from one topic to another, lack full explanation for certain references, and leave some vital questions unanswered, this is unfortunately unavoidable. These are problems faced when conducting interviews in China. What Mr. Wang did offer to share about himself and his times is interesting enough to warrant exposure to the western reader.

I went to his home assuming that he would not have time to answer all of my questions, for, as he put it," time is now precious," yet he proved to be very enthusiastic about our talk and proceeded to reply to every question raised.

Rubin: Could you please tell me something about your background and when you started writing?

Wang: My real name is Wang Shouhua. I was born into a middle-peasant Household in 1918 in Wujin, Jiangsu Province. My father was an elementary Schoolteacher. After graduating from elementary school I passed the entrance exam for Qi Xia Mountain Village Teachers’ Training School in Nanjing but was expelled after half a year for participating in a student movement. In 1933 I became an apprentice in the Shanghai New Asia Drug Factory. The same year I entered the Communist Party Youth League and then joined the League of Left-wing Writers. I edited a mimeographed publication called Job Life (Zhiye shenghuo) which was sponsored by the Employees' Association and financially supported by the League of Left-wing Writers. Later the publication switched over to print and appeared as a semi-monthly.

[Mr. Wang was an activist in his factory, producing wall newspapers which he now refers to as" toilet literature "(cesuo wenxue) because of the strategic location for posting publications sympathetic to the workers' views. Since the factory manager and the office clerks used their own separate toilet facilities, never entering those provided for the workers, the latter found their w.c. the safest and most convenient place to discuss political matters. K. R.].

At the end of 1933 I published a zawen in Xinwen bao under the name Wang Shouhua. The piece, called "Chats on the Finger Game" (" Huaquan xianhua "), was a political satirization of Chiang Kai-shek's sell-out of the four north-eastern provinces to the Japanese. It showed how whoever lost part of the motherland got the biggest reward. (As in the Chinese finger game where whoever loses is "punished" by being forced to drink wine.) I also published a new folk ballad based on the "Falling lotus flower "(a kind of folk tune) and other literary works.

In May of 1934 1 was arrested by the Guomindang and sentenced to 10 years in prison. While in jail I figured out a way to deceive the censors and sent some prose pieces and poems outside to left-wing publications. My" Prisoner's Song" (" Qiutu zhi ge "), written in Latinized script in order to pass the censors, was printed in Tianjin's Bei Diao. The poem "December 16th" (Yier' yi liu) composed together with Fang Yi, the prose piece" Bitter Cry "(" Chentong de husheng "), and the lyrics to the song" Song of the Volunteers "(" Yiyongjun ge ") were all printed in Shanghai's Shenghuo he zhishi. Zhou Weishi later composed the music to this last song and it became popular nation-wide.

In 1938 I began to use the pen-name Ruowang and published "Un expected Savagery" (" Yixiang bu dao de canbao ") and several other reportage pieces in Wuhan's Xinhua ribao. In 1940 1 returned to Yan'an [he had first gone there in October 1937 from Xi'an after getting out of the Guomindang jail in August of that year. It was in October 1937 that he entered the CCP in Yan'an. - K.R.] and wrote a short story called "Farm Labourer" (" Zhan nian han" [North Shaanxi dialect]) about the awakening of the peasants in the Shan-Gan-Ning Border Region. It was published in the journal Qi yue edited by Hu Feng in Chongqing in 1940. [During the anti-Hu Feng Campaign in 1955, Mr. Wang was taken to task

for having published in Hu Feng's journal. - K.R.]

Towards the end of 1942 Dazhong ribao of the Shandong Liberation Area serialized my" Stories of Mao Zedong" (" Mao Zedong de gushi "). This was reprinted in all of the liberated areas and after national liberation several of the stories were included in the book Stories and Legends of Mao Zedong (Mao Zedong de gushi he chuanshuo). At the end of 1945 Dazhong ribao printed my short story collection Stationmaster Lü (Lü Zhanzhang) which was later included in Selected Fiction from the Liberated Areas (Jiefang qu xiaoshuo xuanji) edited by Zhou Erfu in Hong Kong.

From 1946 to 1947 I published "Evening Chat in the Teahouse ". (" Chapeng yehua ") and other short stories as well as a book on folk remedies for curing livestock diseases called Liu chu ping an and a collection of folk-rhymes, Min yao ji. During this time I also edited a semi-monthly called Wenhuafanshen.

After national liberation I published a collection of prose entitled Notes on Going to Comfort Our Troops in Korea (Fu Chao weiwen ji). I had gone to Korea for four months towards the end of 1951 on a trip organized with other people in the artistic world. I also wrote a novella, Barefoot Rural Fiancé (Xiangxia wei hunfu) and wrote a newly-composed Peking opera, Paper Tiger (Zhi laohu), which was performed in Shanghai. It was one of the earliest attempts after liberation to use Peking opera to convey a theme of modern political struggle. Written in 1952, the play was about the U.S. as a "paper tiger" in the Korean War.

In 1953 I became the assistant head of the Literature and Art Section of the East China Bureau Propaganda Department, and in 1955 I assumed the post of co-editor of Wenyiyuebao, predecessor to Shanghai wenxue. In 1956 I wrote the children's story "A-Fu's Search for Treasure "(" A-fu xun bao ji ") which was then made into a movie. At that time I still dared not touch upon realistic problems of the day. In 1956 my short story, "The Indestructible Light" (" Yanbuzhu de guangmang ") and five-minute movie script, "Audience with His Excellency "(" Jian da ren ") appeared in print. In order to remove the ideological obstacles which were hindering the implementation of the "One Hundred Flowers" directive, in 1957 I wrote several zawen including "Creating Barriers Step by Step" (" Bu bu shefang "). "Dig up the Old Roots of Factionalism" (" Wadiao zongpaizhuyi de lao gen "). "Something Amiss" (" Buduitou"), and "A Partition Apart" (" Yi ban zhi ge”)¹. The issues they addressed, such as

1. "Creating Barriers Step by Step" was originally printed in Wenhui bao, 26 April 1957; "Dig Up the Old Roots of Factionalism" in Wenyi yue bao, No. 6 (1957); "A Partition Apart "in Xinwen ribao (1957), 5, 7." Something Amiss "was not intended for publication. It war based on a letter Mr Wang had sent to a friend in the Jiefang ribao in which he protested against the suppression of the free airing of views. A few days later it was discovered that the Municipal Propaganda Bureau was going to label Mr Wang a "rightist." Thereupon the person who had received the letter proceeded to operate on it -he chopped off the beginning and the end, added the title" Something Amiss,'" changed questions into affirmative statements, and made some other alterations. Mr. Wang did not have a copy of his original letter so could not compare it with the revised version. When they used it to criticize him at a meeting he insisted on getting back his original letter but was not successful.

　　　The article that first attacked Mr. Wang in 1957 was written by Zhang Chunqiao under　the pseudonym Xu Hui; it was printed in Renmin ribao, 30 July 1957.

dogmatism, bureaucratism, and lack of concern for the people's sufferings still carry meaning today. I criticized the Party's lack of respect for and failure to allow the use of talent outside the Party, and I insisted that leaders guiding literature and art should not excessively interfere with literary creation and should give writers more freedom. You should know that from 1957-58 it was a crime to say such things. These articles of mine were soon labeled" great poisonous weeds."

After being labeled a "rightist" I was unable to publish a single word. My name was not cleared until the summer of 1962. That same year at the Guangzhou Conference Premier Zhou and Comrade Chen Yi criticized the Party for interfering too much with literature and art. They encouraged writers to dare to speak out and write. Believing in Party policy to carry out the "three don'ts,'' ² I was itching to reveal my innermost thoughts. I wrote a short story which reflected the mistaken methods employed in the Great Steel-making and Iron-smelting Movement. It was printed in Shanghai wenxue in July of 1962 as "History of a Cauldron" (" Yikou da guo de lishi "). This work described the fraudulent methods prevalent during the Great Leap Forward whereby in order to fulfill steel-making quotas, perfectly good steel and iron products were melted down. I put a lot of effort into veiling my dissatisfaction with the Great Leap Forward, but no matter how I couched my terms, my meaning was discovered very quickly. Towards the end of 1962 this story was considered a" great poisonous weed." Soon after, I published a zawen "In Praise of the Electricity Meter "(" Xiao huobiao zan ") in which I criticized egalitarianism and the policy of" taking meals in one and the same cauldron." Not long after the appearance of these two works, I was criticized by

name. At a meeting, Ke Qingshi ³ singled me out, saying, "Wang Ruowang is attacking the ' Three Red Banners ' again." My short story had brought about another episode of misfortune. Unable to withstand the shock of my persecution, my wife died of an illness in 1965. This price was too high to pay.

Towards the end of 1978 my name was restored and I wrote over 20 zawen and literary critiques, plus the story Hunger Trilogy (Ji e sanbu qu). This novella emphatically portrays the savage scenes affected by the feudal and fascist dictatorship of Lin Biao and the "gang of four." It describes the indomitable fighting spirit of veteran cadres, capitalists, those with medical degrees returned from America, elementary school teachers and others persecuted during this period of unprecedented despotic rule. Everything in the story is based on my own personal experience. I needn't fabricate

2. The" three don'ts ' (san bu) were aimed at protecting writers. They were:

(a) Don't use clubs to attack people.

(b) Don't place hats [labels] on people.

(c) Don't find [political] fault with people.

3. Ke Qingshi was then First Party Secretary of the Shanghai Municipal Committee.

stories - so many people were hounded to death due to the unjust accusations and trumped-up cases invented through the brutal methods of the" gang of four." All I did was select a few situations related to the topic of hunger, that's all. I have the good fortune to have survived. The dead cannot speak but the living can. I have the responsibility to tell the truth as I saw it.

The" fellow sufferers" portrayed in the story were all rehabilitated after the fall of the "gang of four." Besides Xu Yushu and Cao Huoqiu, they are all still alive today and are specially cared for and respected. There are some people who inevitably ask "How can you make the jails during the Cultural Revolution look bleaker than those during the Guomindang period? "My reply is this. A writer can only put forth an objective reflection of the true situation. The fact is that the "gang of four" rule was more savage than that of the Guomindang. They were a horde of beasts in the guise of Communists. By describing the facts I am not helping the Guomindang or discrediting the real Communist Party. Don't we say that the Cultural Revolution was 10 years of catastrophe?

I am about to publish a new short story in the June (1980) issue of Shanghai wenxue called “By way of a Preface to ‘Shang Xin Gou’” (“ ‘ Shang Xin Gou’dai xu ”. The story is true and represents a situation still widespread today. I hope to make three points through this work. First, concerning literary freedom - as soon as a writer writes realistically, his work is likely to be interfered with. Secondly, many people selfishly revel in" glory "and" merit for service to the people" when in fact they do not help the people. Such merit is undeserved and hypocritical. Thirdly, real democracy has not yet been realize

A collection of my zawen and shige is coming out soon, entitled Bi geng ji.

Rubin: You seem to enjoy the use of zawen to express your views. Could you say something about the nature and form of zawen?

Wang: Zawen is an essay form not found in foreign countries. Its origin dates back to ancient China and it became well-known with writers such as Han Yu, Liu Zongyuan, and Ouyang Xiu, but it was Lu Xun who gave it prominence as a separate literary form. Zawen is not a theoretical essay nor is it prose, but rather a combination of the two. It exposes; it is a fast way to express personal views. In 1957 many writers went down because of their zawen. People who read newspapers love to read zawen but foreigners cannot understand it because of its classical Chinese flavour. Thus LuXun's zawen are much more difficult to read than his short stories. Very few writers can write good zawen.

My zawen are characterized by the following three features. First, they are written in language which is easy to understand. Secondly, they are humorous. Thirdly, I use examples and allusions from the everyday life of the people so that I can get my message across through terms they are familiar with. My zawen are not long, therefore people have time to read them. Such essays make them think. They don’t like to read the long, wordy, stereotyped kind in some newspapers.

Rubin: When did you first go to Yan'an and what was your role there?

Wang: After getting out of jail in 1937 I went to Yan'an. You won't see my name in the history books but I was there editing another wall newspaper with some other comrades. It was called Qing qi dui (Light Cavalry) but you will not find it mentioned anywhere. It started to appear a bit earlier than the literature column of Liberation Daily [which began on 16 May 1941 - K.R.]. The name was taken from a publication originally put out by factory youth in the Jiangxi Soviet⁴. Qing qi dui in Yan'an was first posted on a large board placed at a well-known crossroads. It came out once a week. The paper was known to expose the shortcomings of life in Yan'an and writers such as Xiao Jun, Xiao San, and Ding Ling had all contributed short incisive essays. Because it received lots of support, it was mimeographed and distributed to organizations all over Yan'an. Mao approved of the paper but later (in 1942) when Wang Shiwei was attacked, Kang Sheng labeled Qing qi dui "anti-Party "and so everyone involved with it got criticized. However, Hu Qiaomu protected us.

4. The title Qing qi dui was probably first taken from the reference by Lu Xun to the

use of zawen as" light cavalry "used against the enemy.

Rubin: Why was Wang Shiwei severely treated while other writers sharing his views were not?

Wang: Wang Shiwei had done a lot of rather advanced-level translating in Shanghai. In March 1942, his zawen "Wild Lily" (" Ye bai he hua ") had been printed in the literature column of Liberation Daily. This essay exposed the dark aspects of Yan'an life. Because the Guomindang reprinted it in a Xi'an newspaper, the Communist Party was very angry. It was because "Wild Lily" was too sharp that he was dealt such a devastating blow. Back in Yan'an there had been a relatively democratic political atmosphere - the leaders and masses were very equal.

Rubin: What writers have influenced you?

Wang: Among Chinese writers, I really like the works of Lao She and Zhang Tianyi because they are humorous and flavourful. I enjoy writing which contains humour. The works of Yu Dafu, Ba Jin, Lu Xun, and Mao Dun I like as well. Among foreign writers I am fond of Gogol, Chekhov, Gorky, Jack London, and O. Henry.

Rubin: What do you think about literature written since liberation?

Wang: First, in order to study Chinese works of literature one must have an understanding of the political background contemporary to the work. This is because Chinese literature relies too heavily on politics. Since literature is overly dependent on politics, one must study the latter.

Secondly, in evaluating a work of literature one should not indiscriminately use the official newspapers and publications of the time as a yardstick. They sometimes used ultra-leftist thinking to negate good works. During that time I too wrote articles criticizing the novels of Xiao Jun and Chen Dengke.⁵ Now these works deserve re-evaluation.

5. Wang Ruowang's merciless 1956 critique of Xiao Jun's novel Mines in May (Wuyuede kuangshan) interestingly enough employs much the same irrational invective that Mr. Wang objects to and now attributes to Left deviation dogmatism. See "A reactionary novel which insults the Party and the working class" (Yibu wumie dang wumie gongrenjieji de fandong xiaoshuo) in Wenyi xuexi, No. 1, (1956).

Thirdly, modern literary works are still at the stage of improving their artistic quality. Artistically speaking, they are not very mature. Characterization lacks force. They attract readers by bringing up sharp problems rather than through the creation of (moving) portrayals. Writers should not merely attempt to keep up with the latest trends while neglecting artistic quality. But naturally literature now is many times better than the former "literature of deception" (qiman wenxue).

A rather large number of works written before the Cultural Revolution have also failed to withstand the test of time. This was because they failed to deal with real social issues of the time and their characterizations were false.

Rubin: How did your view of social issues change before and after 1957?

Wang: In my youth I was lively, naive, and unsophisticated. Even today　people still call me a" naive old man," but I'm a bit wiser now. I never could master the game of politics - mutual trickery and intrigue. My ideals were that there should be equality and freedom, that everyone strive after communist ideals and have friendly relations with one another. But I came up against many obstacles and was soon educated by cruel reality. It should be said that within the Party there are in fact a few insidious people who are fascinated by the acquisition of power. The first time I was rebuffed was in 1942 while on my way from Yan'an to Shandong to assume responsibility for the Municipal Work Bureau. I was suddenly and unexpectedly dismissed from my post and did not know until I had arrived in Shandong. This happened because when I had been doing underground work in Xi'an. I'd recommended many progressive young people to go to Yan'an. During the later part of the Rectification Movement in Yan'an, because of the "Save the Criminals Movement" sponsored by Kang Sheng, those revolutionaries who had gone to the liberated areas from Xi'an were suspected of being Guomindang spies. Since I too was thus suspect, I was transferred down to do manual labour in the countryside in Shandong. I had no salary and no job. Because I was a" problem "case, my name was not included on the list of beneficiaries of the ration system. But during this period of time (from 1943 until the spring of 1945) I still managed to live quite well. I became one of the first "barefoot doctors"(although they did not call them that then) for the local peasants, and also treated their livestock. In return, they offered their finest things to me as gifts of thanks.

This period of rural living supplied me with later writing material my fiction. After the Japanese surrendered, Kang Sheng rehabilitated me and I edited the publication Wenhuafanshen.

Rubin: How do you view the Anti-Rightist Movement?

Wang: The anti-rightist struggle was over-magnified. It undermined our national vitality and harmed the intellectuals. The source of the mistakes committed then can be traced to two factors. First, intellectuals were looked upon as an "alien" force. This was made evident by calling them members of the bourgeois class. Secondly, because of the then recent Hungarian Incident, certain leaders feared that a similar situation could arise in China. They were searching for revisionists everywhere and the intellectuals became a natural target. This movement produced an economic slump and a depression in the areas of scientific technology and education. Intellectuals dared not offer independent opinions on

these matters. Thereupon the authorities stupidly felt that they had gained a great victory. For the sake of maintaining a little face, they brought about a great loss to the economy. Even more grave was the fact that it was at this time that they specifically trained a large group of "black scholars" (hei xiucai) and "deformities" such as Zhang Chunqiao and Yao Wenyuan to attack other people. Because all of the intellectuals hurt maintained independent views and critical attitudes, a very bad common practice emerged, one which has carried over to the present day: many other people (i.e. unlike the intellectuals above) mastered the art of boasting and learned both to flatter and to attack others to ensure their own upward mobility. From this time on, China was like a man with a high fever. Since no-one dared to put a little ice on his forehead, the fever only got worse and worse.

Rubin: How would you evaluate the continuous criticisms and struggles within the literary world during the seventeen years between 1949 and 1966?

Wang: From the criticism of Dream of the Red Chamber (Hong lou meng) and Wu xun zhuan on, writers and their works have been assaulted and randomly condemned. Such a method is harmful to the flourishing of literature. At that time the scope of such criticism was still small and the victims few. From the Anti-Hu Feng Campaign on,⁶ the scope of the attack was enlarged and grew little by little until by the time of the Anti-Rightist Movement, it affected several hundreds of thousands of people.

Those 17 years were thus like a vicious circle. Every time a political movement would come along literature was the first victim. A bunch of "hatchet men" were trained and because of this it is very, very difficult to eradicate ultra-leftist influences. "Leftist" forces had already laid their foundation, the" gang of four " just led the tendency to its highest peak. At every turn they would make literary problems into" political" issues. This is what happened when people were made out to have committed "reactionary" offences, and so it was the case in the anti-Hu Feng Campaign. The author who researched Hong Iou meng (Yu Pingbo) was so affected that he was in disgrace for several decades.

6. The movements to criticize Yu Pingbo's study of Hong lou meng, wu xun zhuan, and

Hu Feng had all been sponsored by Mao.

Rubin: Some people say that the Talks at the Yan'an Forum on Literature and Art supplied the ultra-leftist faction in the literary world with "clubs" to attack people. Could you please discuss your feeling about the Talks?

Wang: First, there is the issue of writers delving into life. Naturally writers have to be familiar with life. Before writing what comes deep' from the heart, a writer has to have suffered with the people. Without a basis in life, a writer would not be able to produce anything. However, there should be no set rules. Why can't a writer paint the kind of life of which he has already had first-hand experience? If he does not go down to the grass-roots level, to the countryside or to a factory, does it mean that he hasn't deeply involved himself in life? Lao She went down, but the plays he produced from that period were all failures. Isn't the play Teahouse (Chaguan) which he wrote without having "delved into life" very good? None of the plays Cao Yu wrote after having" delved into life "could surpass his earlier works Thunderstorm (Leiyu) and Sunrise (Richu). Cao Xueqin never went down to the grass-roots level yet the fine name of his Hong lou meng will be handed down to future generations. Therefore, writers must write about the life with which they are familiar. There should be no hard and fast rules pertaining to their writing.

Secondly, there are the "six criteria" raised in Mao Zedong's 1957 speech "On the Correct Handling of Contradictions Among the People." To request that writers consider the" six criteria "when they engage in creative activity is unrealistic. Furthermore, the" six criteria" themselves are not scientific. Haven't some already changed? For example, the" socialist big family household "doesn't apply anymore. The third criterion,⁷ was beneficial to the consolidation of democratic centralism but actual practice was exactly the opposite. Those who really did dare raise their opinions with the leaders were all cut down. Didn't this clearly destroy the system of democratic centralism?

Concerning" politics first, art second," when readers read a work of literature they first look to see whether or not it is well-written. Who looks to see what its political message is? To the contrary, if the work contains too much politics, no one will want to read it even if you give it to him free of charge. Is this to say that the slogan should read "art first, politics second?" No. This is similar to the water and fat contained in a glass of milk. Why in the world would you want to separate them? Isn't this just splitting hairs?

7. The" six criteria" were guidelines for distinguishing between" fragrant flowers" and "poisonous weeds." The third criterion stated that works "should help to consolidate and not to undermine or weaken the people's democratic dictatorship."

There is also the question of praise and exposure. Does it make sense to say that we can expose the mistakes of our enemies but not those of our own ranks? You can say that literature should serve politics, but in fact is there not literature which also serves ethics and religion?

Rubin: On 20 July 1979, Guangming ribao printed your article" A Gust of Cold Wind in Spring "(" Chuntian li de yigu leng feng "). Could you discuss your motive for writing this piece as well as its influence?

Wang: That gust of cold wind in spring of 1979 proved to be very fierce. It came as the result of the printing of Deng Xiaoping's speech in which he urged the entire Party firmly to uphold the" four basic principles."⁸ His talk was correct, but there were some people whose minds were stuffed with the old" gang of four "ultra-leftist line. They were uneasy that things were being set right after all the disorder and that people were liberating their thinking. They particularly resisted the principle of "practice is the sole criterion for the examination of truth." They distorted the meaning of the" four basic principles "as brought up by Deng Xiaoping, using them as clubs to attack people. Some leaders in the

literary world felt that writers were again "making an attack" against the Party and that the situation of 1957 had re-emerged. Some people even said that the case of a particular person [Mr. Wang is referring to himself here. - K.R.] who had been labeled a "rightist" then seems now not to have been "undeserved." They raised three points. First, "How can you criticize our high-ranking cadres? Doesn't this disparage them? "Secondly, "Why don't you want the ' worker-peasant-soldier orientation '?" Thirdly, "How can we let you have ' freedom ' of creativity? "In reality, these people are in the "school of whatever" (fan shipai)⁹ in the literary world.

In order to "keep up with the times," Hebei wenyi, No. 6 (1979), printed an article called" Praising Virtue and Lacking Virtue" (Ge de yu que de). This reflects the trend of thought of those who consider ultra-leftism to be strictly orthodox. I do not want to go into the details of this essay. Suffice it to say that it greatly abused the names of writers who dared break through the ultra-leftist framework, condemning them as "lacking virtue." I had just gone back to work in March, and in July wrote "A Gust of Cold Wind in Spring." This was a struggle between some of those who had been knocked down many times and those who had not yet shaken off the influence of ultra-leftism. [The author of the article Mr. Wang was refuting was Li Jian, editor of Hebei wenyi.-K.R.]

8. The" four basic principles "were:

(a) Uphold the principles of Marxism-Leninism and Mao Zedong

(b) Uphold socialism.

(c) Uphold the leadership of the Communist Party

(d) Uphold the dictatorship of the proletariat.

　9. The “school of whatever” refers to those who believe that “whatever Chairman

Mao had decides must be resolutely safeguarded and whatever directive he has issued must

always be adhered to.”(see Beijing Review, No.24, 15 June 1981, p.16.) In China now this

term points to those with rigid and blind thinking.

My essay made use of facts and logic to refute him. Because his abusive language was so excessive and vulgar, his article aroused much anger and very quickly met with defeat. It is a shame that questions such as "Should literature praise or expose?" "How should literature reflect the four modernizations? " and "How should we evaluate fiction which unmasks the crimes of the ' gang of four '? "were unable to be fully debated.

Rubin: Is the" praise virtue school" (ge de pai) blowing another cold wind now?

Wang: Naturally, some of the people responsible for causing this cold wind to blow belong to the" praise virtue school." However, there are others, with power in their hands, who do not wish to clash with bureaucratism or special privileges. To be more exact, these are the very people who support bureaucratism and the concept of special privileges. Because of certain works of literature in the preceding period (i.e. "literature of the wounded "), these people are particularly sensitive and adverse to" literature which delves into life." Take for instance the poem by Ye Wenfu entitled "General, you cannot do this" (" Jiangjun, bu neng zheiyang zuo "), and the very well-written novella At Middle-age (Ren dao zhongnian) by Chen Rong.¹⁰ Both were criticized by these people.

10. "General, you cannot do this" appeared in Shi kan, No. 8, 1979; "At Middle-age "was printed in Shouhuo, No. 1, 1980.

We can offer criticism of poorly written works but such criticism must be reasonable and dispassionate. Moreover, we should print essays which represent different opinions. Yet certain critiques I see use very crude wording and articles which disagree with their views are not printed.

The" praise virtue school "just mentioned specifically refers to those who cling steadfastly to ultra-leftist beliefs. They are accustomed to attacking literary works of an incisive nature. These people are characterized by their rigid thinking and dogmatism. Modern superstition dominates their minds and they are still unwilling to part with their habit of attacking others. They do not know their trade yet they like to pose as specialists. What a truly disastrous situation when these sorts of people are in high positions of power!

I am also in favour of singing the praises of good people and good deeds under socialism. In this sense, I too am a member of the" praise virtue school." However, good people must inevitably struggle with bad people and bad situations, so if you wish to create a lively depiction of a "good person "you cannot avoid exposing some dark aspects.

Concerning the issue of social effect, I want to say that there is no writer who does not take into consideration the social effect of his work. But to over-emphasize social effect creates harmful consequences for literature. Just as a surgeon realizes that, say, one out of every 200 patients he operates on will die on him, it should be accepted that among so many works of literature, some are bound to have an undesirable social effect.

Rubin: Could you talk about the issues that were debated National Writers' Conference held last autumn in Beijing?

Wang: Three problems were resolved fairly well. The first was" How should the Party direct literature? "The second was" How should we view 'literature which delves into life '?" The third was “What position should literature occupy in society? ” Issues not resolved included praise and exposure in literature, and the relationship between literature and politics. The majority of writers at the conference felt that politics should not flagrantly interfere with literature and that there should be respect for writers' individuality and creative freedom. Because everywhere writers were coming up against interference and resistance on the part of" high-ranking officials" (chang guan), after the Writers' Conference and rectification among the ranks, writers became even more united. The" gang of four "has reduced the writers' ranks to a sad state, but writers have not given in. Their fighting spirit is still strong and they are more aware than they have ever been at any time during the past 30 years. No matter what direction the wind blows, these writers will not be easily defeated. There are many, many other writers who share my feeling on this matter. I am by no means a" lone army doing battle."

Rubin: What is your opinion of the Drama Conference held February in Beijing?

Wang: Before the Fourth National Writers' Conference some people spread rumours that" it was forbidden to make old cadres look bad." If in one work of literature one or two veteran cadres are depicted in such a light, does this mean that the faces of all veteran cadres have been smeared? It was because no unified agreement could be reached on several particular literary works at the Writers' Conference that the Drama Conference was held and the discussion continued. This conference was necessary and the talk that went on was correct. However, the fact that the play If I Were Real was not allowed to be performed from this time on (if there are bad parts in it why not change them?) produced a negative effect which has already become evident. As far as I am concerned, works of literature which spark off debate are often good. Those who suppress and discredit such works are only discrediting themselves. The Drama Conference produced certain unexpected effects. As you can see, there has been a decrease in the number of films depicting the acute side of life since then. "Practice is the sole criterion for the examination of truth." Let If I Were Real be performed. Could it be that the nation will come to ruin with the performance of one play? The result of exercising controls left and right This spring a cold wind similar to last year's is blowing. The talks given by the Central Committee comrades were right, but there was still a　group of people who jumped at the opportunity of reviving the tide of　thought approximating the dead ultra-leftist line. This is not strange, for　there are, similarly, some who try to give distorted explanations of the "four basic principles "and bring on another" cold wind." What does their" cold wind "blow forth? One, they are opposed to the reflection of real life, i.e. bureaucratism and special privileges enjoyed by high-level cadres. These two phenomena are hated by the people. Yet all works which expose them are said to" smear the faces of veteran cadres."

Secondly, they search everywhere for imperfectly written works and make a loud fuss about their having a bad social effect and creating sources of instability. It is inevitable that there are a few individual works of literature which are badly written, but some people single out a few unhealthy pieces to indicate that the literary world has gone astray in its thinking. Their motive in over-magnifying the role of literature is to smother literature which truthfully reflects the real world. They still firmly believe that literature can only "praise virtue" and cannot expose darkness.

Thirdly, the implementation of crude political judgments in criticisms of writers in the newspapers has once again appeared. The works of literature which they criticize are not necessarily bad.

Rubin: How would you assess the current state of contention in the literary world?

Wang: Interfering forces exist but do not occupy the dominant position. Before long such forces will be defeated via the exposure of their own real faces. I have a great deal of faith that China's more than one hundred literary publications cannot be wiped out. [Mr. Wang explained here that since competition has arisen with the appearance of so many literary magazines, editors are under pressure to meet readers' demands. - K.R.] Such forces will appear again - next year and the year after. If those whose job it is to attack others are active, the people will have rough times.

There are two opinions concerning literary work. One side feels that liberated thinking has gone overboard and that liberalization has become too serious. The other side thinks that literature is healthy and flourishing, that minds have not yet been sufficiently liberated, and that ultra-leftist forces are rather powerful and should be continuously criticized. These are two fundamentally opposite views prevalent in the literary world (including among its leaders) which have given birth to two opposing methods of work.

Besides this, the vast readership and audiences of today differ greatly from those of a few years ago. Their level of consciousness is very high. This is something which foreigners do not expect. If a good play is showing, no matter how much the ticket costs, people will still go to see it. The more public performance of a play is discouraged, the broader is the scope of its dissemination. On the other hand, if a movie or play is implausible, no matter how well done the advertisements for it may be, no one will go to watch it. As for literary magazines, nobody cares about the price of a publication which is overcautious and lacks initiative. People simply will not buy it.