Cat Country

by Lao She

  ‘Since the ideas of the young are muddle-headed and the schemes of the old are sly, everybody has come to believe that politics is a kind of “muddling through” carried out on the social plane. If one is good at this kind of “muddling through”, then one obtains everything his heart desires; and if one isn’t good at it, then he falls flat on his face. As a result of all this, the students in our schools don’t bother to study any more. All they do is memorise a little of the new jargon, learn a few of the old people’s crafty schemes, and then present themselves to the world as political geniuses.’

  I let him rest for a while and then said. ‘You haven’t got to Everybody Shareskyism yet.’

  ‘Well, the more brawls that came into being, the more impoverished our people became because everybody’s efforts were devoted to the brawls and nobody paid any attention to economics. At that point, Everybody Shareskyism arrived in Cat Country. Shareskyism emphasised the people and was strongly grounded in economics. Until the arrival of Shareskyism, despite the large number of revolutions we had gone through, the emperor had never fallen. For whenever a new brawl became popular, the emperor would simply announce that he believed in the same programme and would even like to become leader of the brawl. Then he would secretly contribute funds in large amounts and the brawl members would make him head. Therefore, a poet once praised our emperor as “Ruler of the Ten Thousand Brawls”.

  ‘However, when Everybody Shareskyism arrived, everything changed. One of our emperors was actually murdered, and at long last a brawl actually came into power, the Everybody Shareskyism brawl. Since this brawl advocated getting rid of everyone except honest-to-goodness peasants and workers, quite a few people were killed; but there was nothing unusual about this, for in Cat Country we have always killed people without so much as a second thought. Actually, it might not have been a bad idea if they had really slaughtered all of the superfluous people, sparing only peasants and workers. But Cat People after all, are still Cat People, and even when killing people they are bound to introduce some variations on the theme. For instance, if a man gave enough money, he was spared; and those who had someone influential to put in a word for them were also spared. Consequently, those who ought to have been killed were not; and those who ought to have been spared, on the contrary, lost their lives. The ones who ought to have been killed but weren’t, wormed their way into the Everybody Shareskyism brawl and started corrupting it with wily schemes from within. The result was that more and more people died every day, but the orthodox principles of the brawl were never put into practice.

  ‘But the best was yet to come. Everybody Shareskyism advocated allocating jobs on the basis of ability while at the same time equalising compensation for all jobs. To realise such a programme, it would have been necessary to reconstruct our economy and revamp our education. However, the members of our Everybody Shareskyism brawl didn’t understand economics to begin with and had even less conception of the problems involved in creating a new system of education. Consequently, when all the killing was over, everybody just stood around and stared blankly at each other. They had hoped to build the new society on a base of peasants and workers, but they didn’t have the foggiest notions of what agriculture or work were.

  ‘For openers, they equalised the distribution of land. After everybody had acquired his fair share, reverie trees were planted and everyone bore up as best he could until the trees reached maturity. The workers were eager to work, but there was nothing for them to do. And so they killed off some more people, in the belief that the minority left after the slaughter would be easier to provide for. It’s as though one were to say that when your skin itches, you’ll be much better off if you tear away that part of it. That’s about all I have to say about our experience with Everybody Shareskyism.

  ‘It was exactly the same as with all the other political theories that came from abroad. In other countries they were really good programmes that prescribed the right medicine for the right disease. But when they got to us, they changed so that rather than being cures, they turned into the carriers of fresh diseases. We ourselves never carefully examined either the new programmes or our old problems; consequently, we suffered all the pain associated with revolution, but derived none of the benefits. Other people revolt in order to put new plans and policies into practice. We revolt only in order to “stir up a brawl”. Because we are fundamentally lacking in knowledge, we are forced to turn our attention away from attacking problems to attacking people. Because we concentrate on attacking people, everybody utterly forgets about the lofty character that is demanded of people engaged in revolutionary enterprise. Instead, we can do nothing but attack each other in the basest ways imaginable. And so the result of several years of Everybody Shareskyism, other than slaughtering people, is for everybody to stand around and stare blankly at each other.

  ‘In the end the leader of the Everybody Shareskyism brawl became our next emperor! From Everybody Shareskyism to the throne – what a non sequitur! What a nightmare! But when you come to think of it, there’s nothing very odd about it, for Cat People have never understood what government is in the first place. Having royally bungled Everybody Shareskyism, we had no choice but to set up an emperor again. And with the emperor back, at least we were able to put an end to all of our indecision.

  ‘To this very day, we still have an emperor, and he is still known as the “Ruler of the Ten Thousand Brawls”! And down to this very day we still have people who believe in Everybody Shareskyism too.’

  Young Scorpion was weeping.

  SOME GENERALS PREFER BOUDOIRS TO BATTLEFIELDS

  EVEN IF everything that Young Scorpion said were true, it still didn’t constitute a constructive critique. What good was there in being so pessimistic? Of course, having come from a peaceful and happy China, I was inclined towards optimism and somehow or other felt there was still some hope for Cat Country. (A healthy man usually finds it difficult to understand why a sick one takes such a dim view of things. People should always keep up their hopes – as a matter of fact, hope is really one of mankind’s responsibilities; for despair is a sign of self-abandonment, while hope is the mother of all endeavour.) I didn’t believe for a moment that if the Cat People united their strength, they could still fail to achieve any positive accomplishments. There were many, many factors that inhibited the development of Cat Country and prevented their politics from getting on the right track. On the basis of what I had seen and heard, I was not fully aware of all the difficulties that they faced, but the Cat People were, after all, still people; and people are creatures who are capable of surmounting any difficulty that may face them.

  I decided to find Old Scorpion and see if I could get him to introduce me to a few of the leading political figures of Cat City. If I were able to meet a few clear-headed people, perhaps I could obtain some critical opinion that was more substantial and constructive than that which Young Scorpion had given me. Actually, I ought to have interviewed the common people first, but they were so frightened of foreigners that I couldn’t really think of any way of getting close to them.

  Of course, given the lack of an informed populace, one couldn’t reasonably expect to find a well-ordered political system. But on the other hand, precisely because the populace was uncritical, it should be somewhat easier to get a political movement going if one could only find a genuine statesman willing to exert himself for the people and the nation. Even though I had never relished the prospect of being the minion of an intrepid leader, I decided to continue my search for the ideal hero; perhaps I’d find just such a leader among the leading political figures of Cat Country. I happened to arrive just at a time when Old Scorpion was holding a party. I assumed that since he was one of the most important personages in Cat City, I’d be sure to find some statesmen among the invited guests. This should be an excellent opportunity.

  I had not been to this side of the street for several days now. The street was as bustling as ever; it brought to mind the swarming of ants,
though it didn’t remind one of their industry. I didn’t understand what attraction this broken-down old city possessed that it could arouse such a longing to be in it. Perhaps it was because the rural economy had totally collapsed, making city life appear at least preferable to life on the farms. There was one improvement: because of the frequent rains recently, this section wasn’t nearly as foul-smelling as it had been. It seemed that the Old Man in the Sky had sparked a ‘Sanitation Movement’ for the Cat People!

  Old Scorpion was not at home even though I arrived at precisely the agreed time. While I waited, I was entertained by the man who had brought food to me while I was in the reverie forest. Since we were acquaintances of sorts, he told me straight out, ‘If you make an appointment for noon, then you ought to come in the evening; and if you make an appointment for the evening, then you ought to come at dawn. And sometimes, you simply ought to come a few days later. It’s our custom, you know.’ I was very grateful for his advice and went on to ask him who the guests were. I had decided that if there weren’t any people among the guests whom I wanted to meet, I would simply leave now and not come back.

  ‘The guests are all important personages,’ he said, ‘otherwise we wouldn’t be able to get foreigners to come.’ Fine then, I’d be sure to come back, but where would I go to pass the time meanwhile? I suddenly came up with an idea. I’d interview this man! I still had a few National Souls left in my pocket. I gave them to him. The rest of it, of course, was easygoing. You see, National Souls can unlock Cat People’s mouths. We went up on the roof to conduct the interview. I asked him what the people milling about below did for a living.

  ‘You mean these people?’ He pointed down to the sea of Cat People on the street. ‘They don’t do anything.’

  Here we go again, I thought to myself. ‘Then how do they get their food?’

  ‘They don’t eat food; they eat reverie leaves.’

  ‘And where do the reverie leaves come from?’

  ‘If one man becomes a major official, then a mass of people get enough reverie leaves to eat. In other words, those people down there are all relatives and friends of officials. When a man becomes a great official, he plants and sells reverie leaves; but he sets some aside to distribute to his relatives and friends. If a man becomes a minor official, then he buys reverie leaves and is still able to distribute some to his relatives and friends. And if a man doesn’t become an official at all, then he just waits around for a few reverie leaves to come his way.’

  ‘There must be a large number of officials then.’

  ‘Except for the unemployed, everybody is an official. I’m an official myself.’ He smiled ever so slightly. Perhaps he intended this smile as revenge for my contemptuous treatment of him in the past (I had pulled off a piece of his scalp in the reverie forest).

  ‘Do all officials have money?’

  ‘Yes. The emperor gives it to them.’

  ‘But if nobody plants crops or works, how does the emperor get his money?’

  ‘He sells national treasures and land. You foreigners love to buy our land and national treasures; otherwise we’d have no income.’ He was right. The Museum of Antiquities, the library – all of it fit together in a single piece.

  ‘And how about you, yourself? Do you see anything wrong in selling off land and treasures?’

  ‘As long as we get the money, it’s all right.’

  ‘Then all in all, I take it that you have no economic problems?’

  This question seemed a bit too deep for him and it was quite a while before he replied. ‘In years past, economic problems did give us a lot of trouble, but nobody talks about that any more.’

  ‘You mean that in years past people did till the soil and work?’

  ‘That’s right. But now the countryside is almost empty. Of course, people in the city still have to buy things, but all these things are now sold by foreigners. And since there’s no longer any need for us to plant crops or work, everyone is idle.’

  ‘Then why do people still want to become officials? An official certainly can’t be idle. And since a man gets reverie leaves to eat whether he’s an official or not, why does anyone want to burden himself down with official responsibilities?’

  ‘When you’re an official, you get more money, can buy more foreign imports, and can even take on a few more wives. If you don’t take a post, then all you get is a small allowance of reverie leaves. Furthermore, being an official is certainly no burden, for there are more officials than there are things to do. Sometimes our officials can’t find anything to do even when they want to.’

  ‘I have another question. If reverie leaves are all you have to eat, how is it that the ambassador’s wife didn’t eat them?’

  ‘Well, it’s possible to eat ordinary food if you want to, but it’s terribly expensive. If you want meat and vegetables, you have to buy foreign imports. And let me tell you that when you insisted on ordinary food back there in the reverie forest, you cost the boss a pretty penny. Madam Ambassador was an oddball. If she had been willing to eat reverie leaves, people would have supplied her free of charge, but nobody had enough money to keep her in meats and vegetables. She used to take her eight sexpots out to the countryside to gather weeds and wild vegetables.’

  ‘And meat?’

  ‘There’s no place to get any meat, unless you buy it from abroad. When people were still getting by on a diet of half reverie leaves and half ordinary food – this was a long time back – the people ate up all the fresh meat so there was not a single animal or bird left. Have you ever seen an animal or bird here in Cat Country?’

  I thought about it for a while and concluded that he was right. ‘But wait a minute, how about those white-tailed hawks?’

  ‘You’re right. They’re the only ones left. If it weren’t for the fact that their meat is poisonous, they would have become extinct a long time ago too.’

  You Cat People yourselves are on the verge of extinction, I thought to myself. Ants and bees have needs, but no economic problems. But even though they’re free of economic problems, they still have the instinct to go on working; in that respect, they are much superior to Cat People. The Cat People no longer had any economy or government worth speaking of, but even so they still couldn’t resist competing against each other until they had created chaos. I don’t know who had been guilty of creating such inferior products – creatures who had neither the instinct of ants nor the wisdom of human beings. Perhaps the god who had made the Cat People intended them as a joke. They had schools, but no education; politicians, but no government; people, but no personal integrity; faces, but no concept of face. One had to admit that their god had gone a little too far with his little joke.

  But no matter what, I was still determined to have a look at those important personages. I had already been forced into admitting my inability in coming up with a solution to the problems of the Cat People; now I’d see if their own bigwigs had any ideas. On the surface of things, the solution to their main problem seemed ridiculously simple: carry out an equal redistribution of reverie leaves and thus bring into being a Reverie Leaf Everybody Shareskyism. But this would lead them right down a leaf-strewn path to oblivion! No, that wasn’t the solution. One would have to turn back the clock, prohibit the consumption of reverie leaves, and revive agriculture and industry! That was the only way to really prevent the Cat People from bringing about their own destruction. But who could possibly shoulder a responsibility of such magnitude? For such a task was certainly nothing else than trying to transform gnats and flies into human beings! What monumental strength, what unflagging effort, and what iron decision would be necessary if the Cat People were ever to make that transformation. Were they capable of it? I seemed to be becoming as pessimistic as Young Scorpion.

  Old Scorpion returned. He was somewhat thinner than I remembered him being in the reverie forest, but he seemed as wily and full of schemes as ever, if not more so. There was no need for me to stand on ceremony with him, so I asked straig
ht out, ‘Why have you invited all these guests?’

  ‘No reason in particular. Just getting together for a chat.’

  I could tell from this that there was certainly something important afoot. There were many questions that I wanted to ask him, and yet I had somehow or other conceived such a loathing for him that I felt that the less I said to him, the better I would feel.

  The guests continued to arrive. I had never seen any of them before, and they weren’t the least bit like ordinary Cat People. No sooner had they been introduced to me than they were calling me ‘old friend’. I rudely announced that I was from Earth. My somewhat impolite intention, of course, was to show that ‘old friend’ was inappropriate. However, they seemed to interpret this sour note in my speech as the sweetest of harmonies, for they went right on calling me ‘old friend’ with redoubled pleasantry. A dozen or so additional guests arrived. I was in luck: they were all politicians. I soon observed that this new group could be divided into three factions.