Beckett's Chinese Progeny: Absurdity, Waiting, and the Godot Motif in Contemporary China
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Beckett’s Chinese Progeny: Absurdity, Waiting, and the Godot Motif in Contemporary China Rossella FERRARI SOAS, University of London “Nothing to be done,” Estragon states, matter-of-factly, in the very first line of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot (11) and again, repeatedly, throughout the play. In the Western dramatic imaginary, this lapidary statement has come to encapsulate a sense of impotence and nihilism deprived of purpose. It betokens a world deprived of God—or a world in which God(ot) has forever abandoned mankind to “waste and pine” (42). This negative ontology took shape as an intellectual response to the Western crisis of values in the aftermath of World War II—a war that had made Europe a spiritual wasteland ravaged by the horrors of the battlefield, the menace of nuclear disaster, the incommensurability of the Holocaust, and the near-certainty of the demise of any metaphysical dimension within human experience. Why, then, would such a perception of reality as aimless and absurd appeal to anyone in China in the heyday of post-Maoism, when the country had just emerged from the Dark Ages of the Cultural Revolution and totalitarian obscurantism had just subsided, heralding in the bright vision of reform? Why would the European tradition of the absurd set roots in the Chinese theatre at this historical juncture that was brimming with possibilities and confidence in a new national project of economic modernization and social reconstruction? Why, again, would this “alien” and alienated dramaturgical mode generate its most prolific offspring in the early 1990s, when a booming consumer revolution and increased material comfort triggered by an expanding “socialist market economy” made China’s dreams of progress and modernity appear, at last, attainable and possible? And why, lastly, would there come yet another “absurd progeny” at the turn of the millennium, when China’s imminent access to the WTO was positioning her firmly at the forefront of globalization? Or, put differently, why would Beckett’s archetypal barren tree come to stand centre stage in China’s theatres at times when “spring” had allegedly just come? Why did such sense of paralysis and Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
134 Theatres in the Round impotence emerge at the very moment when ostensibly there was something—indeed plenty—“to be done”? This essay shall interrogate such paradoxes by investigating Chinese responses to the so-called Theatre of the Absurd and, specifically, to Waiting for Godot (1952, Godot hereafter). The controversial introduction of the Western modernist canon in the late 1970s and early 1980s after decades of proscription through the socialist period (1949- 1976) triggered a pervasive fascination with the Godot thematic, and engendered a range of local productions and variations on the play, which I collectively categorize as “Godot progeny.”1 To start with, below I shall trace the reception of absurdist aesthetics and map the basic temporalities and typologies of production, adaptation, and “progenation” of Beckett’s work since the outset of the post-Mao era (1976). As it will become apparent, the Godot-motif was repeatedly invoked and reworked at times of crisis and change to allude to long-standing expectations and hopeful projections of the future as well as deep-seated memories, unspoken traumas, and unspeakable truths regarding the past. Hence the latter part of this essay shall examine a seminal production directed by Meng Jinghui in Beijing in 1991 as one of the foremost instance of such transformative-figurative praxis of signification, and allegorical framing of the absurdist canon within the socio-political unconscious of the Chinese nation-state. I. Temporalities and Typologies of China’s Writing of Waiting Godot was one of the first dramas of the absurd to become available in Chinese. It was translated in 1965 (Ma “Theatre of the Absurd” 87) approximately a decade after its première at the Théâtre de Babylone in Paris (1953). With China religiously embracing socialist literary policies, the play stood little chance of success in those days. Following the outbreak of the Cultural Revolution in 1966, it was promptly consigned to the proscribed underclass of the “poisonous weeds” (counter-revolutionary literature) and consequently banned from library shelves and theatrical stages. Still, throughout the 1960s, it continued circulating alongside other representative works of the Western modernist canon as a “yellow-cover book.” Made recognizable by the yellow-brown colour of their coat, these were restricted prints of both foreign and Chinese pre-revolutionary writings that were formally unavailable for general readership because of their purportedly tainting content. They were distributed only within an inner circle of high- 1 The notion of progeny was inspired by Paul Foster’s study of literary derivatives of Lu Xun’s novella “The True Story of Ah Q” (Ah Q zhengzhuan, 1921) (Foster). Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 135 ranking officials and intellectuals whose ideological stand was deemed as sufficiently firm and immune to corruption. These works spelled out heresy to the cultural apparatchiks of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), instructed as they were in the orthodoxy of socialist realism, and were scrutinized as negative exempla of the devious ethics of bourgeois- capitalist thought. Yet, in point of fact, several of these prohibited texts leaked out of the guarded libraries of the political elites and circulated clandestinely among ordinary readers. Most crucially, this underground canon came to constitute basic staple in the unofficial reading diet of a generation of former Red Guards who were to become leading forces in the cultural reconstruction of the post-Mao period. This situation bears similarities to the complex fortunes of Beckett’s oeuvre in Eastern Europe, where Godot has often been summoned to symbolize long-awaited freedom from Soviet dominance and, with the end of the Cold War, hopes for reform and reconstruction. A production staged in Belgrade shortly after the Parisian première, for example, was damned as decadent and obscene (Croall 73), and Vaclav Havel once admitted that he had secretly enjoyed reading Godot “in the dark fifties,” when the play was still proscribed in Czechoslovakia (131). Like in China, the arrival of Godot on the Eastern European stages was belated—the first performance was in Dresden, East Germany, in 1987. Like in China, for a long time Beckett was “taboo and anathema,” and his work only occasionally invoked as evidence of the superiority of socialism over capitalism (Huber 50). This was the case of the first-ever staging of a Beckett script in East Germany. In 1985 the Berliner Ensemble actor Ekkehard Schall performed a double Brecht-Beckett bill to contrast the positive model provided by the proletarian protagonist of Brecht’s The Education of Millet (Die Erziehung der Hirse, 1950) with the futile existence portrayed in Krapp’s Last Tape (1958). Speaking of Becket’s reception in the former GDR, Werner Huber identifies four phases of possible responses: “refutation,” “rapprochement or subversive appropriation,” “recovery or rescue” and “post-propriation,” which to a certain extent echo the Irish writer’s tortuous reception in China. In East Germany, too, intellectuals read his works despite the ban, and writers such as Heiner Müller and Volker Braun were so affected by those forbidden literary treats that it would later become “their specialty to work with insinuations and oblique references to the Beckett canon” (51). Godot would have to wait until 1988 before being allowed into East Berlin.2 After such occasional clandestine encounters with Beckett in the 1960s and 1970s, the Chinese cultural scene witnessed to a more 2 In West Berlin, it was directed by Beckett himself in 1974. Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
136 Theatres in the Round systematic introduction of the Theatre of the Absurd in the late 1970s and early 1980s, alongside the earliest local experiments in absurdist playwriting. These productions represent the first of three main peaks of reception and dissemination of the genre and ensuing production of derivative dramas or “progeny plays”—namely, Indigenous elaborations of the Godot-motif. Domestic responses to the absurdist mode were nonetheless interrupted several times during the decade by shifting political winds and a succession of state-sponsored crusades against the suspected harm inflicted by alien cultural intrusions. Following a momentary disruption in the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square events of June 1989, a second, more conspicuous wave of absurdist propagation surged in the early 1990s, accompanied by a steady flow of translations and scholarly interventions. Finally, a third zenith was reached at the turn of the millennium, with three new productions alone in 1998. These temporal stages are matched by three modes of dissemination of the Godot-motif and the subsequent generation of local productions, hybrid adaptations, and progeny plays. The first mode relates to a number of Chinese-language performances of Godot that display varying degrees of adaptation with regard to script and setting, and are mostly based on the 1960s translation by Shi Xianrong. These include a 1986 production directed by Chen Jialin at the Shanghai Theatre Academy, Meng Jinghui’s 1991 production at the Central Academy of Drama, a 1998 version by Ren Ming at Beijing People’s Art Theatre starring two females in the lead roles, and an independent production by Zhang Xian, Li Rong, and Wang Jingguo, which was performed in 2001 at the Hard Han Café Theatre in Shanghai by an all-female cast. In 2003, Meng conceived a mass version with a cast of over a hundred actors called A Hundred People Waiting for Godot (Yibai ge ren dengdai Geduo), whose rehearsals were nonetheless suspended because of the SARS outbreak and never rescheduled. The second modality pertains to hybrid versions whose titles plainly refer to their overseas progenitor and retain most of its dialogue and semantic connotations, and yet are too altered, structurally, to be categorized simply as productions of Beckett’s original. One such crossbreed is Lin Zhaohua’s Three Sisters Waiting for Godot (San zimei dengdai Geduo, 1998), which merges lines and characters from Chekhov and Beckett. A more recent manifestation is Godot Cometh (Dengdao Geduo), whose title plays with the assonance of the Chinese verbs dao (to come) and dai (to wait). The play was staged to critical acclaim at the Beckett Centenary Festival held at the Shanghai Dramatic Arts Centre in 2006 alongside an “experimental opera” version of Godot by renowned Taiwanese performer Wu Hsing-kuo. Two years earlier the Shanghainese audience also had the opportunity to see a classic and Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 137 celebrated production by Walter Asmus with Dublin’s Gate Theatre. The Irish version won rave reviews in Shanghai and Beijing and “the mere fact of the production being there emphasized the marked difference in attitude towards the play from that of twenty years before, when it had been banned” (Croall 101).3 Asmus noted that the role of Lucky resonated with Chinese audiences because the portrayal of “this poor creature with a rope round his neck…had political implications for them” (101). Written in 2004 by emerging dramatist Li Ran and produced by the Shanghai-based Finalmente Theatre Company (Feinar jutuan), Godot Cometh is a meta-play of parody and deconstruction about two actors named Vladimir and Estragon who perform excerpts of Godot for the visitors of an amusement park. First a man and then a woman interrupt the proceedings claiming that they are, in fact, Godot, but Vladimir and Estragon murder them both for fear that if Godot really came the tourist show would lose its appeal and they might consequently lose their jobs. Beckett himself also appears as a character, further adding to the metatheatrical quality of the play (Liu 87). Li’s experiment resonates with earlier European attempts at writing prequels, sequels or other types of derivatives. The deliberate vagueness and open-endedness of the dramatic situation has prompted a number of alternative speculations on the fates of the characters before, after, and beyond the scenario supplied by Beckett. Instances are Godot Has Come (Godo je došao, 1966) by the Serbian Miodrag Bulatović, Alan Titley’s Godot Turns Up (1990), Daniel Curzon’s Godot Arrives (1999), and The Last Godot (Le dernier Godot/Ultimul Godot) by the French-Rumanian Matei Vişniec. Like Li’s rewriting, the latter features both Godot and his author as characters. The third mode of propagation—or, in this precise instance, progenation—concerns works by Chinese playwrights in which the basic action and symbolism are patently indebted to Godot. Their foreign paternity may not be revealed by their titles nor acknowledged by their authors, yet by situating the act of waiting at their core “as form and motif” (Tam 43) they can be legitimately categorized as progeny plays. Instances of local writing of waiting based on Beckett’s Urtext are The Bus Stop (Chezhan, 1983) by Nobel Laureate Gao Xingjian and Extreme Mahjong (Feichang majiang, 1998-2000) by Li Liuyi. Zhang Xian’s The Owl in the Room (Wuli de maoutouying, 1987) and Yue Meiqin’s The Woman Left Behind (Liushou nüshi, 1991) can also be viewed as Godot-derivatives (Wu 41). About Asian Imagination, or an Ode, or an Etude (Guanyu Yazhou de xiangxiang huozhe songge huozhe 3 Croall refers to the 1983 ban on The Bus Stop. Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
138 Theatres in the Round lianxiqu), produced by Chinese avant-garde director Mou Sen in Tokyo in 1996, may fit as well into this category; if not in strict textual terms— most of his works are unscripted—at least conceptually. “Asia” and “waiting” were the key motifs of the performance, and Mou required his pan-Asian cast of Chinese, Japanese and Korean actors to improvise on lines from Godot mentioning the play’s archetypical barren tree, along with material from a news story about a team of Japanese volunteers planting trees in North-western China. The Beckett excerpts were combined with comments by one volunteer about the endless time they would have to wait before the fruits of their labour could be seen. The dialogues blended with an electronic soundscape of environmental- abstract noises, which was likewise designed to induce an impression of time, waiting, and duration. An intermittent voiceover of a woman singing of perpetually waiting for her husband to return from World War II was also inserted. The husband had died long before, but her waiting was forever undying (Mou). Comparable examples of productive progenation of Godot’s core motifs can be drawn from European performance history. An oft-cited one is Ils allaient obscurs sous la nuit solitaire by Bernard Pautrat, directed by André Engel with the National Theatre of Strasburg in 1979. The set was transposed to a deserted hangar and the cast comprised ten characters—Gogo, Didi, Pozzo, Lucky, and six new ones. The script merged original with newly-written lines relating to current social concerns to conjure up, as the Dramaturge explained, “a faithful, black picture of our time, following the tone set by all of Beckett’s works” (Murch 191). Godot’s legacy is also apparent in the work of a number of contemporary authors ranging from Pinter to Stoppard, Braun, and Müller. One interesting example for us is a 1983 drama by the East German Christoph Hein named after the title of Lu Xun’s “The True Story of Ah Q.” Hein’s Die wahre Geschichte des Ah Q tells of two self- styled anarchists waiting for the revolution which marked the end of the Chinese empire in 1911. The revolution, however, passes without them even noticing and their “revolutionary master,” too, never materializes (Huber 52). Albeit unrelated to the Godot-motif, several other contemporary Chinese dramas have been labelled as “absurd” (huangdan), for instance Wei Minglun’s “Sichuan opera of the absurd” (Pan Jinlian, 1986). Later works such as Crowded (Yongji, 1994) by Zhang Xian, Quiet after the Storm (Yuguo tianqing, 1997) by Li Liuyi, and the Trilogy of Idlers (Xianren sanbuqu) by Guo Shixing display situations and devices that Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 139 may as well be traced back to the European absurdist tradition.4 Some post-exile plays by Gao Xingjian such as Between Life and Death (Shengsi jie, 1991), Dialogue and Rebuttal (Duihua yu fanjie, 1993), and The Man Who Questions Death (Kouwen siwang, 2004) exhibit a propensity for absurdity and paradox that may be ascribed to both foreign sources—especially given that Gao has been an active reader and translator of French absurd drama—and to the non-rationalist philosophy and relativistic thinking of Daoism and Zen Buddhism.5 In particular, the existential quest of the characters in The Other Shore (Bi’an, 1986) reveals an ambiguity of purpose that brings it close, symbolically, to the search for Godot. Like the multiple signifier “Godot” in Beckett, the Buddhist concept of “other shore” takes on a variety of meanings in Gao. Overall, as the above mapping indicates, such diversity in modality and scope of production—ranging from small-size independent performances to large-scale ones sponsored by major state theatres—underscores the pervasive hold of Godot on the Chinese dramatic imagination in the contemporary era. II. The Coming and Circulation of Godot As mentioned previously, the systematic introduction of the absurdist corpus commenced at the turn of the 1980s. An essay on the “school of the absurd” (huangdan pai) appeared in World Literature (Shijie wenxue) in 1978, and a few drama collections in Chinese translation were published shortly afterwards (Tay 67). One featured a reissue of the 1960s translation of Godot by Shi Xianrong, who also edited the volume. In his foreword, Shi defined the Theatre of the Absurd as a decadent capitalist aesthetics tarnished by “shattered ideals, broken faith, helplessness, hysteria,” and a “typical ideological manifestation of a class doomed to destruction” (Ma “Theatre of the Absurd” 80). The philosophical foundations of the genre, and particularly its perceived connections with existentialism, were deemed as nihilistic, anti-Marxist, and subversive of the socialist realist orthodoxy (Zhang 221-23). Shi’s translation, moreover, was purged of some inappropriate sexual vocabulary such as a reference to an erection (235). Incidentally, Beckett’s own English version of 1955 had undergone a similar editing, as the Lord Chamberlain demanded this and other indecencies to be removed before allowing a public performance (Bair 445). Nonetheless, the increased liberalism granted by the post-Maoist government in the 4 The trilogy comprises Bird Men (Niaoren, 1993), Chess Men (Qiren, 1996), and Fish Men (Yuren, 1997). Chen Jide describes Guo’s dramaturgy as one of “paradox, alienation, and absurdity” (343). 5 After the Viennese première of 1992 Dialogue and Rebuttal was labelled by the press as “Zen in the Theatre of the Absurd” (Quah 19). Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
140 Theatres in the Round early stages of consolidation of the new political leadership allowed further manifestations of the absurd to penetrate the Chinese theatrical sphere.6 The Bus Stop by Gao Xingjian directed by Lin Zhaohua at Beijing People’s Art Theatre in 1983, was produced even before Godot itself ever appeared on a Chinese stage. This first manifestation of Godot progeny inaugurated a new trend of adaptation of the Beckettian trope of waiting within China’s own dramaturgy. In spite of Gao’s dismissal of any direct affiliation, this lyrical tragicomedy is widely regarded as a Chinese variant of Beckett’s masterpiece on account of several semantic, structural, and symbolic affinities. The Bus Stop tells of a crowd of people who wait endlessly for a bus that never comes. Halfway through the play the enigmatic character of the Silent Man leaves, quiet and unnoticed, accompanied by a musical score that evokes “a kind of pain and a stubborn searching and longing” (Gao Bus Stop 20-21). The others keep waiting forever and, possibly, in vain. In addition to surface similarities, a number of significant differences have also been noted with respect to the play’s European parentage. Scholars have argued that Chinese absurdism rejects anti-theatre and maintains a degree of logicality, finality, and social concern. Action—as a classic rule of drama—is still relevant, dialogue is less abstract, and the act of waiting is more constructive and purposeful in Gao than in Beckett (Zhao Towards 74; Wu 41). The extreme stylistic foreignness of the Theatre of the Absurd has also been discussed as factor restraining Godot’s incursion into Chinese territory. Unlike the works of Shakespeare and Brecht, which became immensely popular in the 1980s and were studied alongside a range of native theatrical forms, there were neither aesthetic connections nor shared ideological foundations to facilitate Beckett’s reception (Zhang 211). Still, the real concern was not as much stylistic or related to divergent epistemologies and cultural sensitivities as it was to questions of ideological legitimacy and anxiety over the counter-discursive potential of the foreign Other vis-à-vis the national Self. Commenting on the unmatched global circulation of Godot, Enoch Brater notes that its political potential has often been exposed in production and exploited to local ends (149), especially in areas of political conflict and social 6 In 1982, Red Nose (Hong bizi) by Taiwanese dramatist Yao Yiwei was staged in Beijing by Chen Yong with the China Youth Art Theatre. This prodction was possibly the first performed in the PRC of a Chinese-language script dealing with absurdity and existential alienation. In 1985, The Weakling (Rouzhe) by Ma Sen, also Taiwanese, was staged in Nanjing and his “plays of the absurd” were positively reviewed by leading critic Lin Kehuan in the official journal Play Scripts (Juben) (Ma “Theatre of the Absurd” 81). Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 141 unrest such as the Middle East, the Balkans, Eastern Europe, and, indeed, Asia. As Athol Fugard told the (Black) cast of his 1962 South African version, “Vladimir and Estragon must have read the accounts of the Nuremberg trials—or else they were at Sharpeville or were the first in at Auschwitz. Choose your horror—they know all about it” (148).7 In the same way as the European authors who are now gathered under the absurdist umbrella strived to dramatize the metaphysical anguish of a world whose faith in the grands récits of modernity was smashed by the rise of totalitarianisms and the horrors of the war, Chinese writers in the post-Mao period embraced absurdist aesthetics as an alternative epistemological framework through which to explore, and possibly exorcize, their own traumatic past and the recent tragedies of the Cultural Revolution. The question with The Bus Stop, however, was that not only did it point to the excesses of an officially-condemned and forever-gone past—the “lost ten years,” as the revolutionary decade is frequently referred to—but also to the persistence of systemic fallacies and empty ideologies in the present. The production was halted after a few performances and attacked for its suspected anti-socialist overtones. Gao was faulted for endorsing a philosophy of “nihilism” and promoting “deviant works which distort history, twist the facts, spread all kinds of negative, pessimistic, corrupt, and vulgar ideas and propagate all manner of bourgeois, idealistic, egoistic world views”—as conservative critic He Wen argued (Tay 71). Gao and Lin fuelled the polemics further by deliberately associating their experiment with the work of Lu Xun, the “father” of modern Chinese literature—a comparison that the CCP ideologues strongly resisted (73). Lu’s lyrical-symbolist playlet The Passer-by (Guoke, 1925) was staged as a prelude to The Bus Stop and the title role was assigned to the same actor who impersonated the much-discussed character of the Silent Man. Undoubtedly, besides its absurdist parentage Gao’s play partakes in both style and mood of the legacy of The Passer-by—possibly the earliest manifestation of “Chinese Theatre of the Absurd” ante litteram. Intense debates over Western modernism, Marxist humanism, and socialist alienation were sweeping through China’s political and cultural circles at the time. With its multiple ambiguities, allegorical suggestions, and lack of closure The Bus Stop presented hard-line critics with “a dramatic illustration of bourgeois humanist individualism with an overall negation of the socialist practice and history of contemporary China” (Yan xvii). Gao was criticized during the Anti-Spiritual Pollution campaign of 1983-84 and his play was branded by officials as 7 On Fugard’s and other political productions of Godot such as Ilan Ronen’s in Haifa (1984) and Susan Sontag’s in Sarajevo (1993); see also Croall (chapter 8) and Taylor-Batty (chapter 3). Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
142 Theatres in the Round the “most poisonous” work to appear on a Chinese stage since the establishment of the PRC in 1949 (Gao Case 147). Speaking of parallel developments in poetry—the polemics over modernism originated from attacks against the new genre of Obscure Poetry (Menglong shi)— Michelle Yeh suggests that this vehement institutional damning of harmful foreign influence served a fundamental strategic function. To admit that the new literature owed its emergence—as well as subversiveness—“more to intrinsic factors than to external influence” was tantamount to recognize “the existence of crises, such as identity crisis, disintegration of values, alienation, and dehumanization, comparable to those that gave rise to modernism in the West,” and the persistence “of old problems that the government did not wish to admit” (391). The 1980s witnessed a succession of campaigns that reflected shifting ideological moods and power struggles within the leadership— cycles of openings and closures, liberalism and conservatism, political winters and springs that echoed the futilely circular temporality of Godot. These movements—from the early modernism-versus-realism debates of 1981-82 to the harsher campaign against bourgeois liberalism of 1986-87—fuelled “a sense of mission” (Zhao Towards 70) among the progressive sectors of the intelligentsia and paid “a great service to the new art and literature by creating its heroes” (72). However, they also triggered a pervasive loss of confidence in the new regime. As it appeared, “Godot”—that is, free will, civil society, intellectual autonomy, liberal democracy—was always on the verge of coming, but never did. This crisis of faith engendered a discursive paralysis comparable to that voiced by Estragon when he advises: “Don’t let’s do anything. It’s safer” (Beckett 19). Or, alternatively, a sense of disaffection and cynical refusal of any more utopias. As “stray youth” novelist Xu Xing writes in Variations Without a Theme (Wuzhuti bianzou, 1985): “I am not clear what I want apart from what I’ve got…What’s more annoying is that I am not waiting for anything” (Zhao Lost Boat 11). Somewhat ironically, the first Chinese-language performance of Godot occurred precisely in the midst of one such campaign against bourgeois liberalism. As pro-democracy student demonstrations swept through China’s cities and leading intellectuals were attacked for their support of political reform, Beckett’s poignant meditation on hope in hopelessness went onstage at the Shanghai Theatre Academy in December 1986.8 The journal Shanghai Drama (Shanghai xiju) welcomed the production as one of the top-ten cultural events of the 8 It was briefly revived at the Changjiang Theatre in January 1987. Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 143 year (Liu 14). China’s first Godot, however, largely fell into the exemplary-educational rubric that was typical of mainstream state- sponsored drama. The purpose of director Chen Jialin, a theatre professor trained in the Soviet-Stanislavskian tradition, was chiefly didactic and his interpretation differed little from customary understandings of the play as symptomatic of the ethical crisis of Western civilization (Zhang 237-39). Chen made amendments to make the text more palatable to a Chinese audience and, possibly, more ideologically digestible for the regime. His production featured original music and lyrics by Ouyang Zhanzhi, dance sequences, and a range of technical and gestural expedients patently suggestive of Beijing Opera. Verses by Tang poet Chen Ziang (661-702) on the theme of solitude were added to evoke greater familiarity among viewers and concurrently reflect the experience of Beckett’s tramps’ loneliness (244). In his directorial notes, Chen categorizes Godot as a “tragic farce” (naobeiju) (241) and cautiously incorporates the (orthodox) notion of realism in his description of the (unorthodox) abstract poetics of the absurd and the waiting-motif, which he understands as “a goal that transcends time and space, transcends national boundaries, and even transcends timelessness itself…to reflect mankind’s shared emotions” (Lo 238). Yet there is no mention of the inherent pessimism, ontological negativity, and demise of purpose implied by Beckett’s conception.9 Experiments with modernist aesthetics were temporarily disrupted by the tragic Beijing Spring of 1989, when hundreds of youths grew tired of wasting time “in idle discourse,” as Vladimir would have said (Beckett 74). Surely, the Party’s call for a “healthy proliferation” of “politically harmless, artistically superior, crowd-pleasing works” (Kaye 32-33) did not provide fertile ground for further journeys into absurdity. The first half of the 1990s witnessed nonetheless a second, more conspicuous tide of reception. The Theatre of the Absurd resurfaced as a driving force in the avant-garde renaissance of the post-Tiananmen phase as a genuine “absurdist fever” spread through the theatre circles— professional and amateur, official and underground. Lin Yinyu was the first professional director to stage dramas of the absurd in Beijing with productions of Pinter’s The Lovers and Ionesco’s The Chairs at the Central Academy of Drama in 1991. The absurdist repertoire dominated the unofficial theatre season organized in the same year by a group of graduate students and would-be celebrities including directors Meng Jinghui and Zhang Yang and actors Hu Jun and Guo Tao. The 9 Attempts at familiarizing Beckett for the benefit of Chinese theatre-goers are also apparent in scholarly commentaries such as Liao Kedui’s. Liao describes Godot as a tragic farce and the tramps as “comic” characters close to Chinese cross-talk (xiangsheng) and comic banter (huaji). (Liao). Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
144 Theatres in the Round programme featured productions of Pinter’s The Dumbwaiter and Landscape and Ionesco’s The Bald Soprano alongside original Chinese- language plays. Meng’s groundbreaking edition of Godot also premièred in 1991, followed in 1993 by a version of Genet’s The Balcony with the Central Experimental Theatre. Together with Lin Zhaohua’s innovative actors/puppets rendering of Dürrenmatt’s Romulus the Great (1992), Meng’s take on Genet provides a most significant instance of anti-sublime and anti-heroic theatre of the post-Tiananmen period, owing to its scathing debunking of sanctioned historiographies and official mythmaking. After 1989, the Theatre of the Absurd became a farcical mask and hall of mirrors by which anti- institutional dissent and social critique can be both concealed and reflected. As one critic observed, the blending of absurdity and farce constituted a key tactics in early-1990s theatre. The farcical cover-up enabled audiences “to respond to densely political passages sympathetically and without restraint” and “push all dangerous thoughts into the emptiness of hilarity. This, at least, is safe” (Ma Shuiyue 225). A foreign extra-cultural form thus came to function as a self-reflexive signifier of intra-cultural predicaments. Martin Esslin writes that the hallmark of the absurd as both a dramaturgical convention and epistemological approach rests on the realization that the certainties of the past “have been swept away, that they have been tested and found wanting, that they have been discredited as cheap and somewhat childish illusions” (16). Accordingly, this second wave of theatrical xenophilia did not merely provide a channel for stylistic innovation but also a platform for counter-discourse. It is no accident that a generation of artists who had witnessed the hysteria of the Cultural Revolution as children and the Tiananmen bloodshed as adults embraced the aesthetics of the absurd as a privileged allegorical ground in which to visualize the dystopian mood of a time when—just as Beckett’s lanky tree—“the spring has run dry” (Bei 11).10 For Walter Benjamin allegory exposes a sense of melancholy and apprehension for transience and decline, of history as ruin, fragment, and “irresistible decay,” (178) for “in allegory the observer is confronted with the facies hippocratica of history as a petrified, primordial landscape. Everything about history that…has been untimely, sorrowful, unsuccessful, is expressed in a face” (166)—a mask of death. The irrational epistemology and circular inconsequentiality of absurd drama functioned as allegorical inscriptions of the public façade, which captured the traumatic unconscious of a nation in historically schizophrenic times. 10 Verse from Bei Dao’s poem “Requiem,” for the victims of Tiananmen. Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 145 The implementation of the peculiar brand of postsocialist capitalism promoted by the new leadership ignited a relentless escalation of commodity economy and global mass culture throughout the decade. Amidst pressing financial concerns and growing marginalization in an increasingly aggressive culture industry, the avant-garde started generating its first martyrs alongside its first celebrities. The sudden withdrawal of maverick director Mou Sen from the theatre ranks in 1997 marked the end of an era for experimental theatre, while at the turn of the century Meng Jinghui’s carnivalizing excursions into pop avant- garde aesthetics propelled the scene into a new phase of prosperity. A variety of cultural factors and socio-economic transformations triggered new hopes and opportunities as the decade drew to a close, along with new challenges and fears. At this juncture, Godot was once more invoked as the ineffable icon of a conflicting national unconscious, and the writing of waiting re-entered the stage as a meta-comment on the state of affairs of art and culture at the fin-de-siècle. The independent production of Three Sisters Waiting for Godot (1998) seemed to voice the spiritual-existential side of the matter. Lin Zhaohua’s “elegiac Godot” stood on the Beijing stage as nostalgic testament to the idealism of the previous decade and a self-reflexive meditation on the decline of high art and culture. If anything, resounding failure at the box-office and widespread dissatisfaction with its complexity and obscurity provided bitter evidence to the defeatist implications and melancholic mood of the performance. As stage designer Yi Liming admitted: “Not many of our audiences dare to face the truth in the same way as Vladimir does. This type of theatre no longer excites hearts and may even induce gloom. But this is the reality of experimental theatre today” (11). In contrast, the “pop Godot” rendition by Ren Ming of the same year unveiled the practical- materialistic side of China’s sociocultural makeover. Vladimir and Estragon were cast as two fashionably dressed, wildly dancing young women “waiting for employment,” thereby addressing a topical concern of a society in which unemployment was still a relatively recent phenomenon. Consistent with such contemporary accent, the desolate country road that provides the original set for the tramps’ vicissitudes was changed into a night club. Beckett’s abstract meditation on human fate turned into a discussion of concrete matters—a realistic mirror on the hedonistic desires of China at the crossroads of planned and market economy, socialist and commodity culture. A comparable approach informed Zhang Xian’s fully cross-gender version of 2001. Zhang injected a deliberate queer subtext into Beckett’s text alongside an ultra- feminine component. Though the original structure, scenery and (male) names were maintained, all roles were changed into females to establish a critique of gender roles. Two attractive ladies in flashy wigs and Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
146 Theatres in the Round miniskirts played Vladimir and Estragon, Godot was imagined as a sort of materialistic-age variant of Prince Charming, and Pozzo and Lucky’s sadomasochistic union served to expose unbalanced sex-and-power relations. Defined by the producers as “alternative theatre of the soap- opera age” merging an absurdist essence and a “consumerist packaging” (Liu 68), this small-scale rendition emphasized as well social commentary over metaphysical musing to reflect the materialistic yearnings and practical concerns of China’s youth in a newly globalized environment. No doubt these productions would have horrified Beckett, as resistant as he was to any deviation from his original intentions. Beckett used to get “worried by the very sound of the word ‘adaptation,’” and gained a reputation as “an arch-controller” of his work (Knowlson 398, 691)—one that the Beckett Estate has contributed to preserve after his death by threatening to sue anyone who radically modifies his writings without permission. One issue that displeased him the most was gender change, and the casting of females in roles that he had originally conceived as male. Much to his chagrin, however, cross-gender productions of Godot became increasingly popular during his lifetime, which led him to resort to legal measures on occasion (694-95). Li Liuyi’s progeny play Extreme Mahjong, written in 1998 and first staged in 2000, summed up the pessimist-nostalgic and practical- futuristic moods by fleshing out both sides of China’s dualistic figuration of Godot as a Janus face. Extreme Mahjong displays a complex absurdist genealogy. Besides being the most clearly traceable local derivative of Godot after The Bus Stop, it also suggests connections with Beckett’s Endgame and Pinter’s “comedies of menace” such as The Dumbwaiter. The play tells the fates of four sworn brothers on the eve of their last mahjong game. They have decided to abandon the gaming world and engage in more socially meaningful activities. However, the elusive Second Brother who, like Godot, is possibly real or possibly “only a shadow” (Li “Feichang majiang” 92), does not arrive. As the others wait, ominous noises from squeaky elevators and leaking toilets enhance the dramatic tension. Gradually, the (in)action unfolds into a hallucinatory state of disquiet, trepidation and suspicion until it becomes apparent that Second Brother is dead and the others are responsible for the murder. Extreme Mahjong displays a melancholic and meditative side as it simultaneously partakes of global-pop aesthetics. The basic situation is abstract, existentialist, and still aligned with the search for meaning and alternative metaphysical dimensions of the heyday of post- Maoism. Yet the hideout ambience of the setting, its refined but decadent décor, the trope of brotherhood, and the implication of murder evoke the gangster and Triad blockbusters of Hollywood and Hong Kong. A mixed sense of anxiety, decadence, and gloom interlocked with Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 147 anticipation and hope for resurgence encapsulates as well a distinctive millennial sensibility. The number of the room in which the action takes place—1911—recalls the year of the demise of the Chinese empire and so strengthens the allusive subtext further by metaphorically defining the play as an attempt to draw up a balance of China’s century-long race into modernity. As it appears, the ambiguity of the Godot-motif and the dialectical nature of the act of waiting presented Chinese artists with an ideal trope by which to articulate a complex range of concerns through the post- Mao period. Waiting can be positive, as it implies potential, or negative, as it triggers tedium and anguish over the futile passing of time. As Kwok-kwan Tam observes: “The act of waiting is an absurd combination of doing something and doing nothing” (59), thus reflecting both change and stasis. The imagination of Godot aptly encapsulates such paradoxical dualism: Godot can signify salvation but also a chimera of salvation. The key, however, “is not Godot but the subject of waiting and the hope, frustration and anxiety” it causes (45)—hence the mythic contours of the Godot motif. The works surveyed here highlight the ambivalence of hope, for the characters and their condition do not necessarily change for the better and often do change for the worse. Just like China’s rush toward global modernity and economic reform, change presents a dazzling face of prosperity and a face of greyness and ruin. The face of those who wander and end up worse—Pozzo, Lucky and possibly the Silent Man—or those who wait forever for a fantasy—the tramps, the three sisters, the crowd at the bus stop, and the mahjong players. Overall, the writing of waiting is configured as a “device of contrast and paradox” (46) that is employed repeatedly, and often self- reflexively, at critical moments of change. As further illustrated by Meng Jinghui’s production examined below, the Godot thematic circulated through various modalities and times to voice the prospects, predicaments and political realities of a nation in transition. III. An Empty Space. A Tree. Evening. Godot in Post-Tiananmen Beijing Meng’s 1991 version marked the first staging of Godot in Beijing and, to this date, it is the sole Chinese rendition of the play that has been performed abroad.11 As one of the most accomplished and controversial local readings of Beckett’s masterpiece, it was instrumental in launching the career of one of China’s leading avant-garde directors. In contrast 11 In March 1993, it participated in the “China Avant-garde” exhibit at the House of World Cultures in Berlin. There it was performed three times, and another at the Kammertheater in Neubrandenburg. Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
148 Theatres in the Round with the cautious approach favoured by Chen Jialin in 1986, Meng turned Beckett’s tragicomedy into a staged exercise in dissent and a vehicle for symbolic traumatic disclosure. Beckett’s metaphysical rumination on the futility of human purpose in a world deprived of God became a disturbing allegory of the rage and repression of China’s youth in the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square crackdown, and a touching tribute to its martyrs. Godot stood on the Beijing stage not only as a universal statement of transcendental loss but also as a contextual rite of remembrance endowed with manifest anamnestic and apotropaic functions, in which actors turned temporarily into exorcists and the stage into a ritual site. Meng engaged in a conceptual study of institutional domination and psychophysical disease to expose a crisis of agency within the Chinese socio-intellectual body through and in the wake of the 1989 incident, and unearth a field of tension between macro- and micro-histories, macro- and micro-powers. Indeed, Beckett’s dramaturgy lends itself well to anti-hegemonic purposes for “by asserting that truth and meaning per se are illusory” and therefore presenting ideology as a form of false consciousness, “Beckett undermines the very ground on which it stands, providing an epistemological weapon for those who seek to oppose it” (Counsell 141). In Meng’s mise-en-scène, Beckett’s iconic country road becomes an all-white empty space bathed in bright light. A white rectangular block replaces the mound on which Estragon sits at the outset of Act One, and a spindly white tree hangs upside down from the ceiling. A grand piano stands at one corner and an old bicycle lies on its head at the opposite end. Two white chairs and two wheels scattered on the floor complete the minimalist decor. A detail of Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera (Spring) is reproduced on the backdoor curtain—perhaps as an allusion to the political spring that never came in 1989, as it never comes in this production. Whereas in Beckett the barren tree grows some leaves in Act Two, as a faint indication of renewal in a desolate landscape, here it remains dead all along, thereby erasing the sole sign of hope of the entire play. The original dreamlike scenery becomes an aseptic enclosure drenched in carceral and clinical hues, which evokes the disciplinary institutions investigated by Michel Foucault in Madness and Civilization, Discipline and Punish, and other works. Here, as in Foucault, discipline is imparted by way of hierarchical surveillance and normalizing judgement. Godot watches over Vladimir and Estragon not only through emissaries and alter-egos but also through a scheme of reward and retribution that invisibly directs their behaviour and ensures their submission. Godot is presented as highly ambivalent in Meng’s production. Godot stands for freedom, renewal and self-realization, but he is also a perpetrator of fear, violence, and death. As Katherine Burkman argues, Godot is “a symbol of that force which sometimes Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 149 does take shape and changes our lives, bringing what Estragon and Vladimir hope may be salvation or what they sometimes fear may be damnation” (30). Godot may come as a saviour and redeemer but also “as a false messiah… an evil or negative force to be exorcised” (30). Countless hypotheses have been advanced to explain the ambiguous identity of the play’s absent protagonist. Christian interpretations take Godot as a symbol for God or an otherwise divine entity endowed with redemptive powers (Fletcher 51). Yet, Godot also stands for material well-being and comes across at times as a rather secular figure—he has family, friends, agents, correspondents, and a bank account (Beckett 20)—and his aura of sanctity is obscured by touches of arbitrariness and unconcern. Like the God of Lucky’s paradigmatic “think” speech, Godot lets the tramps “waste and pine” for no apparent reason. As Vladimir states, “we are waiting for Godot to come…Or for night to fall” (74)—night standing for oblivion, and death. Beckett’s affinity with tropes of death and decay is further strengthened in Meng’s rendition, whose mood constantly fluctuates between degeneration and renewal, hope and despair, crude violence and gentle lyricism or—as Meng phrases it—“an alarming softness, an ambiguous sharpness” (Meng Xianfeng 359). Godot comes at last in this version, yet he does not come as the final realization of an ideal. He comes after all ideals have been shattered, and only mourning is left. Godot appears on the Beijing stage as a false Messiah that must be forced out. In The Theatre of the Absurd, Martin Esslin discusses Herbert Blau’s 1957 production of Godot at the San Quentin penitentiary in San Francisco. He observes that despite its hermeticism Beckett’s text resonated deeply with the convicts, who identified Godot as a reference to “society” and “the outside” and the tramps’ excruciating routines as evocations of their own experiences of waiting, expectation, and disillusionment. The convicts knew what “waiting” was, and knew that “if Godot finally came, he would only be a disappointment” (14). Similarly, in Beijing, the tramps’ condition was recognized as reflecting China’s own recent traumas and social predicaments, and the performance taken as a rare opportunity for collective mourning and remembrance. Godot—the hope that hundreds of Chinese had placed in their future, their country, and their rulers—did come at last from “the outside.” As for the San Quentin convicts, however, such final intervention was merely one of tragic disappointment. The opening scene immediately underscores such ontological duplicity while introducing the trope of institutional violence which, I argue, forms a central element in Meng’s reading of Beckett. Here and at each subsequent mention of the play’s central motif—that of waiting—and of the elusive figure that stands for all that the characters Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
150 Theatres in the Round are waiting for—Godot—a bell shrieks ominously, as a call to order and submission and signifier of a threatening force, of a hidden but persistent gaze. Each time Estragon throws himself onto the floor in fear and despair. As the tramps keep arguing and waiting, Estragon lies down on the white block, as dead, while Vladimir tears his newspaper apart and strikes at the air with his umbrella as if he were battling an invisible enemy, like a Don Quixote tilting at windmills. After Estragon screams out his declaration of impotence—“No use struggling… No use wriggling… Nothing to be done” (Beckett 22)—a cry is heard and Pozzo enters blowing a whip and a whistle, as yet another aural effect employed in this production to announce the manifestation of a threatening force. Pozzo is styled to resemble an affluent bureaucrat or entrepreneur and imparts orders like an army leader. In contrast, Lucky is cast as a traumatized lunatic whose moods swing constantly from apathy to fury. His eyes are lost in emptiness; he bites his hands and does not utter a word. Clearly, Meng engages Beckett’s portrayal of power relations as embodied in the symbiotic co-dependence of Pozzo/the master and Lucky/the servant and Vladimir and Estragon’s love-hate bond to reflect the conflicting relations between government and citizens through and in the wake of the Tiananmen events. Tellingly, Pozzo’s plan of doing away with Lucky—“I am perhaps not particularly human, but who cares?” (29)—inflames Vladimir’s outright indignation. Pozzo chastises his former “good angel” because he has questioned his authority, in the same way as hundreds of youths questioned the power of the Chinese Party-State in 1989. Lucky, hitherto silent and still, suddenly revolts and starts hitting the block on which Pozzo is sitting. His celebrated “think” speech marks the sole occasion in which he, as emblem of the subaltern, is able to articulate some form of protest, and his debunking of rational discourse stands as an act of resistance against a power regime that can neither understand nor feel for its subjects. As a channel of discourse, language entails profound hegemonic functions, so man’s engagement with language becomes “inevitably political… [and] implicated in operations of power” (Counsell 134). The marginalized subject thus attempts to demystify power by subverting the means by which power constructs and imparts its truths. Lucky struggles at first to make himself heard, but the more he speaks the more frenzied he becomes, as if possessed by a malicious force and gone insane. And the more Lucky speaks/thinks, the more Pozzo suffers. This counter-discursive aspect is highlighted here and in other instances not only verbally but also, and most frequently, physically. As he cries out his unruly indictment against a cruel power “who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia” (Beckett 42) watches passively over the struggles of mankind, Lucky grabs the two wheels that are scattered on the floor and throws them up Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
Beckett and China 151 to the ceiling, then forces the bicycle wheels to spin increasingly faster—such an aggressive and inflated gestus clearly functioning as a physical externalization of a distressed mental state. Nonetheless, Lucky’s rebellion produces yet another outburst of coercion. Pozzo kicks him and blocks his mouth while blowing his whistle, and Vladimir and Estragon—who stand for some sort of universal citizenry—assist Pozzo in silencing Lucky’s protest, thereby underscoring their ambivalent perception of authority and incongruous loyalty to its victims. This chaotic yet compelling utterance marks Lucky’s last effort at independent action, speech, and thought. By the time of his second appearance, Lucky has been deprived of his voice, just as Pozzo has lost his vision. The oppressed have been silenced and the oppressor is no longer able to see the plight of his subjects. A crucial modification with respect to tropes of institutional surveillance and psychophysical pathology can be seen in the replacement of Beckett’s Boy messenger with a pair of identical twin sisters dressed in white medical uniforms, who at each appearance deliver their lines unemotionally and in unison. Besides denying the barren tree its chance for a second spring, Meng also deprives the tramps of the only feeble sign of optimism that Beckett had granted them. There is no innocence left in this colourless universe, thus the original carrier of hope, or divine envoy, is refashioned as the robotic emissary of a normalizing institution—the clinic, the asylum, and, by extension, the overall machinery of hegemonic power. This emendation further suggests that authority cannot only be enforced from above, but needs to be sustained from below by compliant social agents who share accountability with the regime—Pozzo and the nurses on the theatre stage, police forces and acquiescent members of society in the theatre of life. The deployment of a twin messenger—namely, a doppelgänger— underscores as well the profound ambiguity ascribed to their dispatcher, Godot, as an emblem of both good and evil. As the nurses exit at an excruciatingly slow pace, “black night” (36) descends. Shrouded in darkness, the tramps walk toward the back door adorned with Botticelli’s painting—the sole bright spot left onstage. As Act One comes to an end and they march toward spring and light, the lanky tree starts rotating as if blown by a sudden breath of life. Yet, as the action proceeds, they will only find more death. The clinical semantics evoked by the medical emissaries, the aseptic enclosure, and the schizoid behaviour of its inhabitants enhances the ominous aura that permeates the performance. Foucault argues that notions of deviance are defined by governing regimes to discipline and regulate, rather than castigate, non-conformist behaviour by effecting a “normalizing judgement” or “normalizing gaze” over the sick, mad, and criminal (184). Accordingly, the production presents excess and Dorothy Figueira and Marc Maufort - 9783035260434 Downloaded from PubFactory at 04/21/2021 05:17:39PM via Victoria University of Wellington
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