Mao's Children in the New China: Voices From the Red Guard Generation by Yarong Jiang & David Ashley

Author:Yarong Jiang & David Ashley [Jiang, Yarong & Ashley, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Political Science, General, Social Science, Ethnic Studies, Regional Studies
ISBN: 9781136357534
Google: FXZHAQAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 18790389
Publisher: Routledge
Published: 2000-08-08T00:00:00+00:00

I A pair of red shoes

How my ex-wife and I separated was unusual.

One morning, I awoke to discover she had gone. All of her belongings – the photos on the wall, the passport in the drawer, the Japanese ID – had vanished as I slept. From that moment on I knew nothing about her whereabouts until, one day, she called on the phone to let me know how I could file for a divorce.

My friend in America had a similar experience. His wife, though, took their son with her when she left. Like me, he’d been “sleeping on high pillows with no worry” and had no idea about what was about to hit him. When his child’s teacher called and asked why his son wasn’t in school my friend learnt he was alone in the world. He hired a detective to look for his family. He spent all his savings.

“I found them!” one day he shouted over the phone. You could hear the happiness.

Ibsen’s Nora made an honest statement when she left with a loud slam of the door. But today’s “New Female” is less communicative. When she’s ready to leave she doesn’t bother to say good-bye.

My wife’s plans were long in the making. Her actions were deliberate. I was too self-confident. Blindly optimistic, I believed her love was there since I loved her with all my heart. Here I made a fatal mistake. Why should love be reciprocated?

My wife took everything with her. She didn’t leave a single photo behind. How many photographs did I take of her? Many, many.

Yet, deliberately or unintentionally, she left behind a pair of red shoes.

Next to the door of our apartment is a shoebox. As soon as my wife and I entered our home we used to remove our shoes and place them in this box. Now, among the black and gray shoes, there is a pair of red shoes. They catch my eye when I return. Sometimes I come in from the night shift, tired and disoriented. It looks as if the shoes have been moved.

“She’s back!” My heart begins to thump. I rush upstairs, only to find the same empty room. Where is the specter of my missing wife?

During many years of loneliness I often walked up to the apartment hoping she’d be there. I knew it wouldn’t happen but still I dreamt.

Friends recognized I was torturing myself: “The person’s gone! What’s the point of faithfully keeping her belongings? Throw them away! Please.”

They were right. I made myself put the shoes on top of a garbage can. But minutes later I hurried back and retrieved them as if they were lost treasure.

What an unusual pair of shoes! I could never be apart from you. To love someone isn’t easy. Nor can we stop loving someone just because they no longer need our love.

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