Cat Country

by Lao She

  ‘Wait a minute!’ My voice interrupted them. ‘Wait a minute! What possible good are the two of you going to accomplish by doing this?’

  ‘None at all,’ said Hawk with the utmost calm. ‘It won’t do a bit of good. The enemy outnumber us and are better equipped; even if we were able to concentrate the entire strength of our country against ’em, we still might not come out on top. But on the long shot that our example may have some influence, perhaps we can bring about a great turning point in the history of Catdom. The enemy expects that we won’t dare, or even be willin’, to put up any resistance. But the two of us, if we accomplish nothin’ else, will have at least taught our enemies not to despise us so. And if not a single person heeds our call to arms? Well, the answer to that is simple enough: Cat Country will have deserved its death, and the two of us will have deserved to die too. There’s no consideration of sacrifice or glory involved in this. It’s just that while alive we’ll have done nothin’ to bring about the extinction of the country, and in death we’ll have avoided becomin’ conquered slaves. Conscience is bigger than life; it’s as simple as that. Goodbye, Mr Earth.’

  ‘Hawk!’ Young Scorpion called him back. ‘If you take forty reverie leaves, your death will be a little less painful.’

  ‘All right.’ Hawk smiled. ‘When I was alive, I was called a hypocrite for not eatin’ reverie leaves. By eatin’ ’em now at the hour of my death, I’ll make it easy for ’em to prove that I was a hypocrite after all. What funny twists and turns life takes. All right, bring on the blessed leaf. As long as I’m gonna do it that way, there’s no point in you goin’ outside ’cause I won’t mess things up anyway. You two can watch me breathe my last. A death with friends gathered ’round is not, after all, completely meanin’less.’

  Having brought in the reverie leaves, Revery immediately turned away and left. Hawk chewed them up one at a time, but apparently felt no need to say anything more.

  ‘And your son?’ asked Young Scorpion. The words were barely out of his mouth, but he seemed to regret them. ‘I really shouldn’t have asked that.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Hawk said, and then asked in a low voice, ‘When the whole country’s on its last legs, who can afford to worry about a son?’ He continued eating, but his chewing gradually slowed down. His mouth was probably already numb.

  ‘I’m goin’ to sleep now,’ he said very slowly, and having said it, lay on the floor.

  After a long time had passed, I felt his hand; it was still quite warm and elastic. In an almost inaudible voice he said, ‘Thank you both!’ And that was the last thing that he said. By midnight, however, he still hadn’t breathed his last.

  A WALK WITH REVERY

  HAWK WAS dead – I don’t want to use the word ‘sacrificed’, for he didn’t consider himself a hero. For the time being I had no way of knowing whether his death would have the effect he had hoped for. All I knew was that his head was displayed in a basket out there in the street, and that word of the spectacle had spread throughout Cat City overnight. I, of course, had no desire to see Hawk’s head, but I was curious to see what kind of spectators had come. Since Young Scorpion was now so busy that he didn’t even have time for Revery, much less for me, I decided that I might as well venture out onto the crowded street.

  The city was as bustling as ever – no, I really ought to say it was even more lively than usual, for there was a head to see now! That was even more fun for the cat-folk than standing around to gawk at where a pebble had been. Before I got to the place where the head was displayed, I heard people say that three old folks and two young women had already been killed in the press of the crowd gathered there. The Cat People were apparently willing to sacrifice their very lives for the pleasure of the eye. What sensitive aesthetes!

  The spectators didn’t criticise or discuss the event that they were witnessing at all. It seemed that they were only interested in crowding and cursing each other. Nobody asked, ‘Who is it?’ or ‘Why did he die?’ Not a single one. All I heard was, ‘The hair on his face is pretty long, isn’t it?’ and ‘His eyes are closed,’ and ‘Too bad they didn’t display the body too!’ If this was the only effect that Hawk’s death had on these people, then maybe he was better off dead; for what point would there have been in going on living with a group of people like this?

  After I left the crowd, I started walking towards the palace, for I thought that there was bound to be something worth seeing there. The street was crowded and noisy. There was a continuous din from the wind and percussion instruments as one band after another passed by in the streets. It seemed that there was just too much for the people to take in at one time. They wanted to get a good look at the head, but at the same time they couldn’t tear themselves away from the bands. Now they’d go harum-scarum towards the band and then they’d fall over each other running back to the place where the head was displayed. They all seemed very unhappy that they had grown only one pair of eyes. From their shouts, I learned that the bands were all wedding processions on their various ways to pick up new brides. There were so many people that I couldn’t get a close enough look to see whether they carried the brides in palanquins as we do back home, or whether, like Old Scorpion, they used groups of seven bearers; and so I had to content myself with listening to the music. I didn’t really have the heart to go gawking at wedding processions anyway, but I certainly did feel like asking someone why, in a time of national peril, everybody was in such a hurry to get married. But there was no one whom I could ask, for generally speaking, the Cat People don’t like to talk to foreigners. I went back to look for Revery and found her weeping alone in her room. My arrival only seemed to make matters worse and she wept so bitterly that she could no longer speak. I had to comfort her for quite a long time before she regained enough calm to say anything.

  ‘He’s gone! He’s gone off to the war! What’s left for me?’

  ‘He’ll be back,’ I said, hoping my words would turn out to be true. ‘He promised that we’d go off to the front together,’ I lied, ‘so I’m sure he’ll be back.’

  ‘Honestly?’ She was smiling through her tears.

  ‘Honestly. Why don’t you come out for a walk with me? There’s no point in staying here by yourself crying.’

  ‘I’m not crying.’ After wiping her eyes and putting on a little powder, Revery came out with me.

  ‘Why are there so many marriages taking place right now?’ I asked.

  If being able to comfort a woman and stop her crying for a while can be counted as any kind of accomplishment, then perhaps I can offer that as an excuse for my own selfishness. And selfish I was, for I must confess that I wasn’t thinking of her interests at all – Young Scorpion’s eventual death in battle seemed a foregone conclusion – but I was only interested in satisfying my own curiosity. To this day I still feel somewhat guilty about using her that way.

  ‘Every time there’s a crisis, everybody gets married immediately to prevent the women being despoiled by the soldiers.’

  ‘But what’s the point of getting married with such fanfare?’ Thoughts of death and destruction had monopolised my heart.

  ‘Well if you’re going to get married, you might as well do it in style. After all, the fanfare only lasts for a few days, but marriage is for a lifetime.’ Perhaps the Cat People had a closer grasp of life than I did after all! She suggested going to the opera. After falling for my lie about Young Scorpion, she had forgotten all her troubles. ‘The Minister of Foreign Affairs is taking a daughter-in-law into his home and there will be opera sung in celebration. Have you ever seen an opera?’

  Come to think of it, I really hadn’t yet seen an opera performed by the Cat People. The idea flashed across my mind that it would be much more to the point to go and kill the Minister of Foreign Affairs who still had the heart to see an opera while Cat Country teetered on the edge of oblivion. But I’m not the killer type, so I decided I might as well escort Revery to the opera. In coming to that decision, I had the vague and uncomf
ortable feeling that my own thoughts were already a bit Cat-Countrified.

  There were soldiers stationed outside the walls of the Minister’s home. The opera had already begun. A crowd of common people had gathered around to hear what they could. Whenever excited by curiosity or the music itself, they’d surge forward for a better look or listen, and the soldiers would grab tight their clubs and play a different tune on their heads. Cat-soldiers were really quite good at using clubs on their own people. As Young Scorpion’s girl, Revery, of course, could have got us inside, skulls intact, but I didn’t really want to see it anyway. If it sounded that God-awful at a distance, think of what it would be like when you got up close! After listening for a bit, the only impression I had was one of racket, and I came to the conclusion I was unable to appreciate the Cat People’s opera.

  ‘Do you have any music that’s a bit more restful and elegant?’ I asked Revery.

  ‘I remember once when I was small I went to a foreign opera that was much more refined than this, but since no one understood it, it was never performed again. For a time, the Minister of Foreign Affairs himself promoted foreign opera, but then he heard someone – a foreigner – say there was tremendous value in our own native music, and then he began to promote our traditional opera again.’

  ‘And if in the future someone else – a foreigner, let’s say – tells him that there’s more value in foreign opera after all?’

  ‘He wouldn’t necessarily promote it again. You see, foreign opera really is very good, but it’s a bit too deep. I don’t think he understood it even when he was promoting it. Consequently as soon as he heard someone say that our own opera was good, he was only too glad to change back. He doesn’t really understand music any way, but at the time he was interested in making a reputation as a patron of the opera. Promoting the traditional opera had a double-barrelled advantage built in: it would be very easy to do and it would be well-received by most of the people to boot. It often happens with us that when a new art or science arrives from abroad, our native product begins to develop again as a result of the outside stimulus. You see, it’s not easy to understand new things, so we simply don’t bother to try.’

  I guessed that Revery had been infected by Young Scorpion’s pessimism, for I thought that such an opinion certainly couldn’t be her own. And although she said all of these things against the opera, she was still crowding toward the source of the cacophony as she spoke. Since she seemed to like the opera, all the while denying it, I thought that it would be indiscreet to go on asking critical questions. I suffered through the atrocious racket as long as I could before suggesting we get away from it. Revery seemed reluctant to go, but she didn’t insist on staying either – she was probably too embarrassed to do so in light of the little anti-opera speech she had just made.

  I wanted to see what was going on over in the direction of the palace, and Revery had no objections. The palace was the largest structure in Cat City, but it was by no means beautiful. On this day it was particularly ugly. There were soldiers both in front of and on top of the wall; in fact, there were soldiers everywhere. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The top of the wall was piled high with soft mud and the ditch at the base of the wall was filled with a stinking kind of water. I didn’t understand the idea behind all this, and I asked Revery.

  ‘Foreigners like cleanliness,’ she answered, ‘so every time we hear that they are about to invade, we pile filth up outside the palace and fill the ditch with foul water. Thus when the foreigners arrive, they don’t dare barge right in because of their fear of dirt.’

  I didn’t even have the heart to laugh.

  Several heads appeared above the top of the wall; after a long while the Cat People to whom they belonged climbed up and straddled the top of the wall. Revery seemed very excited. ‘It’s an imperial edict! An imperial proclamation!’

  ‘Where?’ I asked.

  ‘Wait a bit!’

  I waited until my legs were numb, and then I waited some more. Finally a piece of stone with white characters on it was lowered from the top of the wall. Revery’s vision was really sharp, for she reacted with an ‘Oh!’ almost as soon as they started to lower it down.

  ‘Well, what in the devil’s going on?’ I was a bit impatient.

  ‘They’re moving the capital! It’s moving day for the emperor! This is the end of everything! The end! What will I do if the emperor leaves?’

  She was genuinely worried. I thought to myself, If that prospect so alarms you, what are you going to do when you discover that Young Scorpion is not here any more either? I was preparing to comfort her as best I could when another slab of stone was lowered down. ‘Quick, Revery, what does it say?’

  ‘The army and civilian population will not be permitted to evacuate without explicit permission; only the emperor and his officials are to leave.’ She read it for me. I really admired that emperor; with luck, I thought, perhaps he’d trip and break his neck while running away. But Revery, on the contrary, seemed quite pleased.

  ‘Well I guess things will be all right after all. If everyone else stays, I won’t be afraid.’

  I wondered how in the world everyone else could possibly stay. When the officials were all gone, where would they get their reverie leaves? Just as I was pondering this, another proclamation was lowered down and Revery read it for me, ‘From this day forward, no one will be permitted to address His Majesty as “Ruler of the Ten Thousand Brawls”. With imminent disaster facing us, all our people should be united as a single man; therefore, we ought to refer to His Majesty as “Ruler of the United Brawl”.’

  Revery commented, ‘At this point it would be much better if they would simply forget about brawls altogether!’

  She continued reading, ‘The military and civilian population are, without exception, to unite in resistance. No one is to injure the state because of private interests!’

  I had a comment of my own, ‘In that case, why is the emperor first to run away?’

  After another long wait, the people on the top of the wall climbed back down again. It seemed that the issuing of proclamations had ended. Revery wanted to go back to see if Young Scorpion had returned, but I was more interested in going to see what was taking place at the government agencies. Even if I couldn’t get in, I figured that I’d at least be able to see what orders had been posted outside. We went our separate ways, she to the east, I to the west. In her direction, things were still as lively as ever; the sounds of the wedding procession bands and operatic orchestras dinned unpleasantly against my ears from the distance. The west side of town on the other hand, was very peaceful; in spite of the portentous proclamations that had been set out for people to read, it seemed that the inhabitants of Cat City were much more interested in seeing weddings than they were in reading royal proclamations. In fact, seeing weddings seemed to be the most important thing in the world to them.

  I was especially interested to see what was going on at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but when I got there, there wasn’t a soul to be seen outside the building. I waited a long time, but no one came out or went in. Stupid! I should have remembered. The Minister of Foreign Affairs was holding a wedding; and of course, that was much more important than mere foreign affairs, even if it was wartime!

  I began to wonder whether the Cat People had any foreign affairs to conduct in the first place; I knew enough of the bizarre logic of Cat Country not to fall into the naïve trap of concluding that they must have foreign affairs simply because they had set up a Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Since there was no one around, I decided to simply ignore protocol and go in to have a look around. The doors were open and no one was inside. Good! I could look around to my heart’s content.

  The rooms were empty except for piles of stone slabs all of which were engraved with the word PROTEST. Now I began to understand. What they meant by ‘foreign affairs’ was distributing PROTEST slabs whenever anything happened. The Foreign Affairs officers were, in fact, protest specialists. I started
to look for documents received from foreign governments, but I couldn’t find any. The probable explanation was that few people paid any attention to protests made by the Cat People to begin with, not to mention the fact that their style of foreign relations was probably very simple and didn’t require many records to be kept. There was no point in making the rounds of the other government buildings. If their foreign relations were conducted as crudely as this, it was likely that within the various other buildings one would not even find so much as a stone slab.

  I continued until I came out on the west side of the city where I found a number of government buildings clustered together:

  MINISTRY OF PROSTITUTION; DEPARTMENT OF REVERIE LEAVES; MINISTRY OF OVERSEAS CAT PEOPLE; OFFICE IN CHARGE OF BOYCOTTING FOREIGN GOODS; SUB-DEPARTMENT OF MEATS AND VEGETABLES; OFFICE FOR PUBLIC AUCTIONING OF ORPHANS

  (The list is not complete; these are just a few of the agency titles that struck me as particularly interesting at the time.) There were a number of other agency titles that my Felinese was not good enough to understand. Since anyone who wasn’t unemployed was an official, one would naturally expect a large number of government agencies.

  I continued my way westward. This was the first time I had gone out towards the western suburbs. It occurred to me that I could go and take in the foreign enclave while I was at it. But how could I be so heartless? I really ought to go back and see whether there was any news of Young Scorpion. I changed direction and came back across the reverse side of the street.

  I didn’t run into any young people at first; they were probably all off to see Hawk’s head or listen to the opera. But after I had been walking for a while, I finally came upon a group of students. They were all kneeling on the ground. There was a stone laid out in front of them with a few white characters written on it: