Love and Family Theme Analysis

I couldn’t understand all the words but I could make out that the story was about a rich steel baron, in some place called Chicago, who fell in love with a young girl. […] Love stories were hard to find. I would have given anything to read the whole thing. But the Red Guards destroyed any books that contained even a hint of romance or western flavor. You would be jailed if such books were found in your house.

I kept those forty pages for a long time, locking them like a treasure in my personal drawer […]. I poured over the words. I wondered how the people in the story could have such freedom. It sounded too good to be true. But even after hearing years of fearful propaganda about America and the West, the book was enough to plant a seed of curiosity in my heart.

I watched a few of the students being tested before me, and they cried out and winced. One of the officials came over to me and bent both of my legs outward. Another official held my shoulders to stabilize me and a third pushed his knee against my lower back, at the same time pulling both my knees backward with great force to test the turnout of my hip joints. It was so painful it felt like everything would break at once. I wanted to scream as well, but for some reason I didn’t. I had a stubborn thought: I didn’t want to lose my dignity, I didn’t want to lose my pride. And I clenched my teeth.

“We can’t match the food you had in Beijing, but I hope you still like my dumplings,” my niang said as she set a bowl of steaming hot dumplings in front of me.

“This was all I’d dream about, but we did have dumplings all the time at the academy,” I lied. I pushed the bowl in front of my dia, because I knew there wouldn’t be enough for everyone.

“Liuga, can you count how many times you ate meat there?” Jing Tring asked.

“Nearly every day!” I replied.

Cunsang was wide-eyed with disbelief.

I nodded. There was silence.

“Madame Mao wouldn’t let her students starve, would she?” Niang finally said.

Inside the envelope I found the most beautiful fountain pen. It was a deep royal blue, my favorite color. I could tell it was an expensive one. It would have cost my dia at least two yuan.

“I hope you will use it every day,” my dia said, “and every time you use it, you will remember your parents and our expectations of you. I don’t know what grades your classmates have received, but I hope you will come home with better grades next year. Don’t let us down. Let us be proud.”

I had expected my parents to talk to me about my poor grades. I had expected harsher words. But that pen, and the few words my dia said then, caused bigger waves inside me than any accusations could ever bring. He didn’t blame me. He didn’t accuse me, but I felt I had let him and my whole family down.

I knew now, with sudden shock, that I could never go back to the life I used to have. […] This trip home had once and for all stripped off the fantasy of the ideal countryside life I’d always thought was possible. What my second brother was going through in his mind was far worse than the lack of food, the starvation. His soul was dying. If I hadn’t gotten out I too would have faced the same fate.

[…] I thought about the year ahead. I was looking forward to the challenges. A mysterious voice sounded in my ears: “Cunxin, you are privileged. You are lucky. Go forward. Don’t be afraid and don’t look back. There is nothing back there, only your family’s unconditional love and that will always propel you forward.”

[…] This voice was my own.

“Cunxin, nothing is impossible for a determined human being. Physical imperfections are easier to overcome than mental deficiencies. Remember the bow-shooter fable?” he said. “Nothing is impossible if you put your heart and soul into it! Let’s make your family proud! Become a good dancer, the greatest dancer you can be. Starting next year, I expect to see nothing less than the best from you.”

It was true that Teacher Xiao’s fable of the bow shooter had left a deep impression on me. But from that day on, it became an inspirational driving force. Whenever I met difficulties or challenges in my dancing, like the split jumps, I always went back to this fable for my basic inspiration: hard, work, determination, and perseverance. That day Teacher Xiao’s words had touched me deeply, and I knew that he cared.

“Ohh…Li!” Ben started to sob. “I’m finished! I’ve lost everything! Consul Zhang at the consulate thinks I’ve masterminded this whole thing. They think it’s all my fault. You have ruined everything! I’ll never be allowed back to China now!”

“I’m sorry, Ben. What you want me say?” I asked.

“I want you to say that this is all a mistake and that you will go back to China. Nothing will change if you go back now. I have spoken to Consul Zhang. You’ll still be a hero if you go back to China now. You’ll still be allowed to come back.”

“If you want live in China, you go,” I said.

“Li, the least you can do for me is explain all this to the consulate! Tell them I had nothing to do with it. Can you do this for me?”

I didn’t regret what I had done. In a strange way I felt at peace with myself. […] But still I felt a strong sense of sorrow for my parents. I hadn’t even sent them a single dollar yet.

[…] My poor dear niang. She had suffered enough hardship already. I thought of her wrinkled face and the sorrow she would feel if she never saw me again. Oh, how much I loved her! She was the most innocent and loving niang on this earth. She had given me everything, yet I had nothing to give her in return. Would my niang ever recover from her despair at losing one of her beloved sons? This would surely kill her.

I thought too of my beloved teachers who had invested so much of their time and effort in me […]. Their hopes would be dashed.

Aside from the drugs, though, I did want to experiment with nearly everything the Western world had to offer. I discovered Western movies, especially the John Wayne ones. I liked the courage he portrayed. I also liked movies such as Star Trek and the 007 films. I went to operas, symphonies, pop concerts and plays. Through Ben I met some extraordinary people—people including Liza Minnelli, Cleo Laine, Gregory Peck, Frank Sinatra and John Denver. I even went to discos, but I wasn’t too fond of them. Still, I was like a bird let out of its cage, and I could fly in any direction I chose.

By the time they were ready to leave, my parents had many suitcases full of gifts: watches for my brothers, clothes for my sisters-in-law, picture books and nylon jump ropes for the children, mugs and T-shirts with the Houston skyline on them for friends and relatives, a couple of bottles of Maotai for my grandfather and oldest uncle, and Ben’s sewing machine too. “We left China poor, but will return so rich!” my niang exclaimed on their last night in America. “I don’t mean the material things. It’s the richness I feel in my heart. How well you’re doing here and how much you’re loved and respected! We will savor this trip for the rest of our lives. We’re truly fortunate.”

“Mary, can you have six extra boys and give us one each?” another sister-in-law asked, and everyone laughed. Deep inside, however, I knew how they felt. Not producing a son to continue the family line was considered the worst betrayal of your ancestors […] I looked at my third brother’s beautiful daughter, Lulu, then looked at my nephew and my other nieces. I felt sad that they, like most of the next generation of children growing up in China, would have no brothers or sisters. We had survived through generations of dark and impoverished living because of this one strength, because of the unconditional love and unselfish care of each other within our family unit. It was all we’d had.