Authors: Lisa See
In many ways this novel couldn’t have been written if not for Amy Tan and her wonderful husband, Lou DeMattei, who invited me to go with them to Huangcun Village in Anwei province, where we stayed in a seventeenth-century villa called Zhong Xian Di. They had been invited to the villa by Nancy Berliner, the curator of Chinese art at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts, who brought Yin Yu Tang, another villa from Huangcun, brick by brick to the museum. Ms. Berliner answered numerous questions about life in Huangcun and the villa both today and during the Great Leap Forward by email and in person. Tina Eng, Amy’s sister, also came to Huangcun. Her stories about the Great Leap Forward, what it was like to live in the countryside, her loneliness for her mother, as well as her insightful explanation of
hsin yan
—heart eye—helped to inform
Dreams of Joy
. Cecilia Ding, who works for the Village China project, was a wonderful translator, font of information, and traveling companion. Although many of the tragedies that happened in the novel didn’t occur in Huangcun, I wish to thank the many people there who told us their stories, showed us how they live day to day, and gave us wonderful meals, many of which are present in these pages. I’ve changed much of Huangcun’s geography to create Green Dragon Village, but visitors will readily recognize the ancestral temple, the stone bridges, the villa, and the beauty of the landscape.
In 1960, about 10 million dependents of Overseas Chinese and returned Overseas Chinese lived in China. During the three years of the famine, tens of thousands of Chinese attempted to leave the country.
Many were caught and jailed, or died. Then, in 1962, the Chinese government allowed 250,000 to leave China and enter Hong Kong. Some estimates suggest that another 700,000 people had made their way to Guangzhou in hopes of escape. There are no reliable figures for how many succeeded. I want to thank Xinran, whom I met in England, for information on feminine hygiene in China, ghost villages, and how people escape China even to this day; Jeffrey Wasserstrom for information on Shanghai, and also for introducing me to people who had either lived through the Great Leap Forward or escaped China; Judy Fong Bates, who shared with me family stories of sending money and letters to China when it was closed. Others—in China and the United States—told me tales of their experiences during the Great Leap Forward, how they communicated with relatives when the PRC was closed, and all the ways that they or their parents left China in those days. Although they prefer to remain nameless, I want them to know how grateful I am to them for sharing their stories with me.
I am indebted to Pan Ling, Hanchao Lu, and Simon Winchester for their writings on Shanghai. Special shout-outs go to Spencer Dodington, an architect living in Shanghai who restores art deco buildings, and Eric Zhang, who knows much about Hongkew and off-the-beaten-track sights, for each taking me around the city. For the history of Chinese propaganda posters, I want to express my appreciation for the works of Melissa Chiu, Reed Darmon, Duo Duo, Stefan Landsberger, Ellen Johnston Liang, Anchee Min, Michael Wolf, and Zhen Shentian, but the most important source for me in terms of art was Maria Galikowski’s
Art and Politics in China
. I give thanks to Ye Xiaoqing for her scholarship on the
Dianshizhai Pictorial
and Shanghai urban life; Derek Bodde, Edward John Hardy, George Ernest Morrison, Reverend H. V. Noyes, and Richard Joseph Smith for their written observations on the reverence for lettered paper; Theodora Lau for her encyclopedic knowledge of the Chinese zodiac; Patricia Buckley Ebrey, whose collection
Chinese Civilization and Society
gave me insights into the correct handling of love, marriage, and family problems in the early years of the People’s Republic of China; Liz Rawlings, who invited me to tea with Consul General Bea Camp at the U.S. Consulate in Shanghai; and Mike Hearn, curator in the Department of Asian Art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for his fabulous private tour (again with Amy Tan) of the collection. Careful readers will notice that Madame Garnett had one
t
in her name in
Shanghai
Girls
and two
t
’s in her name in this novel. I want to thank Trish Stuebing, Eleanora Garnett’s daughter-in-law, who caught the mistake and has since written to me many wonderful stories of this Russian countess, dancer, dress designer, and all-round impressive woman.
It’s not all that surprising that so little has been written about the Great Leap Forward. Those in the countryside who suffered the worst effects of the famine either died or remained isolated in their villages. There are a few scholars, however, who have done considerable research on the topic. I’d like to highlight Jasper Becker (
Hungry Ghosts
), Frederick C. Teiwes (
China’s Road to Disaster
), Ralph A. Thaxton, Jr. (
Catastrophe and Contention in Rural China
), and Frank Dikötter (
Mao’s Great Famine
, which was published just as I was finishing
Dreams of Joy
). Several people have written memoirs, histories, or biographies that include the years of the Great Leap Forward, or what it was like to live in China when it was “closed” or had just opened. I acknowledge in particular the writings of Peter Brigg, Nien Cheng, He Liyi (with Claire Anne Chik), Li Mo (with a special thank-you for our correspondence), Sidney Rittenberg (and Amanda Bennett), Peter J. Seybolt, and Ningkun Wu (in collaboration with Yikai Li). Chou En-lai’s
Report on Adjusting Major Targets of the 1959 National Economic Plan and Further Developing the Campaign for Increasing Production and Practicing Economy
gave me a partial view of the government’s position on what was happening in those days. I was greatly helped with the details of daily life in Shanghai by a fan, Helen Ward, who answered numerous questions about her experiences returning to Shanghai to live in August 1951 with her parents. Many details in this book—what happened upon entering the PRC, what it took to make toast with butter, and what kinds of cosmetics were available in shops—are here because of her great memory.
Under the heading of you never know what you’re going to find, I was lucky to stumble on
China Leaps Forward, 1958
, an amazing documentary produced by the CIA and distributed by the National Archives with footage shot on communes, at fairs, and on streets in China fifty-three years ago. At the UCLA research library, I found a series called
Communist China
, part of the Communist China Problem Research Series, published by the Union Research Institute in Hong Kong. The yearly volumes contain typewritten essays on China’s relations with so-called imperialist countries, agriculture, steel, the arts, “natural calamities on the mainland,” and issues concerning returned Overseas Chinese—
all of which were invaluable to me. (At UCLA, I also found
Chinese Stories from the Fifties, Chinese Women Liberated, Chinese Women in the Great Leap Forward
, and
Women of China
. These books and pamphlets revealed precious details and popular stories about women’s lives in China during this period.) On the Internet, I came across Joseph Rupp’s website on his bound-feet project. In 1985, he went into the Chinese countryside to interview and photograph bound-footed women. These stories, particularly those of the women who were required to unbind their feet after Mao came to power, are heart-wrenching and helped to inform what happened to Yong.
Bob Loomis, my editor at Random House, is kind, wise, supportive, and funny too. I want to thank everyone else at Random House as well, in particular Gina Centrello and Susan Kamil for their thoughtful questions and suggestions. Once again, my agent, Sandy Dijkstra, and the wonderful women in her office have labored tirelessly on my behalf. Larry Sells, Vivian Craig, and Meiling Moore have helped me in all kinds of surprising and interesting ways. Millie Saltsman and I have shared some interesting moments this year. I thank her for her wise words, many of which found their way into these pages. Sasha Stone looks after my website with aplomb and good cheer, while Pattie Williams takes the best photographs.
It hasn’t escaped my notice that my books are often inhabited by people who don’t get along with each other and who fail each other in numerous ways. This strikes me as rather odd when my own family life is so joyous. I could not write the books I do without my family’s encouragement. My mother, Carolyn See, is a constant inspiration. My sister, Clara Sturak, offers a critical eye with love and tenderness. My sons, Christopher and Alexander, are always sweet. I now have a beautiful and brilliant daughter-in-law, Elizabeth, who has made me the happiest mother-in-law on earth. Finally, my husband, Richard Kendall, keeps me calm and balanced, while reminding me never to give up or waver from my vision. You are all the
best
, and I love you all deeply.
L
ISA
S
EE
is the
New York Times
best-selling author of
Shanghai Girls, Peony in Love, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan
(which has been adapted into a film),
Flower Net
(an Edgar Award nominee),
The Interior
, and
Dragon Bones
, as well as the critically acclaimed memoir
On Gold Mountain
. The Organization of Chinese American Women named her the 2001 National Woman of the Year. She lives in Los Angeles.
Lisa See is available for select readings and lectures. To inquire about a possible appearance, please visit
www.rhspeakers.com
or call 212-572-2013.