Smeared Type

I stayed up late last night, working on an article with a deadline in two days. I resisted the temptation to check the arrival of e-mails every time my BlackBerry vibrated. When I finally type the period at the end, it was 1:15 AM. Despite the late hour, I opened my e-mail.

“My youngest daughter….has been diagnosed with cancer,” My friend Larry’s email jumped into view. “Things could hardly be darker,” he continued. “Count your blessings.” I sat straight on my chair, totally shocked out of my sleepiness.

It happens that I am serving on a panel to evaluate the works of nonfiction writers who have applied for residency at Ragdale, an artist retreat center, for the summer of ’09. Out of the ten 20-page writing samples I have reviewed so far, four are on the subject of cancer—dealing with the pains of seeing a loved one dying of cancer or handling one’s own struggle with the recurrence of cancer. I am no stranger to cancer either, having lost my father and my youngest uncle to lung cancer in the last six months.

Words became pale when I tried to express my feelings and concerns. In the end, I went to bed without writing back. Despite feeling exhausted, however, I couldn’t sleep. I imagined what Larry’s daughter had to go through, knowing she had recently gone through a divorce and had two small children to care for. I twisted and turned, the struggles of the cancer victims presented in the writings I had just read came to mind.

“Count your blessings.” Yes. We should all appreciate the good health we have and give love and inspiration and help to those we care. “here is no other way,” thought. As I made effort to think positively, I remembered a recent conversation I had with Yuan, a Chinese friend of mine. Her father was also persecuted during the Cultural Revolution. When he was stripped of his high-official position and made a clerk to handle the receipt of mails and newspapers, he told the young Yuan that the work was easy and he enjoyed its simplicity. When he was deprived of this position and sent to the countryside for labor reform, he wrote to his family, saying he loved the beauty of natur in the country. “He was a born optimist!” Yuan said, stating her father was her role model.

“Count your blessings,” I eventually drifted into sleep with the message lingering in my mind.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. www.mulberrychild.com

I arrived at St. Ignatius College Prep School early in the morning on Wednesday, March 4. I took the day off from work and prepared to talk to three groups of students: 350 freshmen, 20+ students in Mr. Daniels’ history class, and 150 seniors who have studied comparative government. Karen Lurie, a friend and part-time faculty at the school, was already waiting for me when I got there. She took me directly to the auditorium to set up the computer. I had put some visual images together—from mulberry tree, a China map, family photos, to photographs of persecution during the Cultural Revolution. I wanted to help the students relate to the topics I planned to address.

I was impressed how quiet and fast the students settled in their seats. At exactly 8:10 AM, after the students checked in their attendance, Karen started my session by giving the students an introduction on me and my book. With a “Zhao Cheng Hao,” “Good morning,” I launched into a brief history of recent China, with an emphasis on the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). I also read an excerpt from my book—my criticizing my father at a school-wide “struggle meeting” when I was a first grader. I could feel the attention from the students, and at times when I lifted my eyes from the book to look at the audience, I saw the interest and engagement from their expression. As soon as I opened the session for questions, a number of hands were up in air, both from the ground and upper levels. “Why didn’t those who were persecuted try to leave?” “Did the Red Guards get punished?” “How do people think of Mao in China today?”… As I addressed their questions, the image of me at their age emerged in my mind. How much more sophisticated and learned these students were, I thought!

In the smaller class, I appreciated Mr. Daniels having his students gave me a brief introduction of themselves. I was impressed to hear they came from all over the city: the south side, the west, and the north. Some event from the suburbs. Their background was a mixture of diversity as well, from Asian, African-American to Latino origins. I enjoyed talking with them in a small setting, and once again, was impressed by their openness, maturity, and eagerness to learn.

During a break, Karen showed me around the school, including a tour to the spacious, high-ceilinged library. All faculties I met, including Dr. Karl, the principal, were full of hospitality and enthusiasm. I was amazed by the size of the school and the beautiful structure of the buildings. 

The last talk to the seniors went by so fast that I didn’t even finish addressing all the topics I intended to talk about. I regretted for not keeping an eye on time. Karen mentioned a tentative plan of having me back sometime in May. I’m looking forward to it.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. Visit www.mulberrychild.com.

My recent interviewers asked me about my description of death and its implications.

Have you every thought what your feelings would be if you found yourself in a life and death situation and saw somebody shot to death before your eyes?

Would you freeze and be transfixed to the spot?  Would the whole scene flash before your eyes?  Or would you see this horror as if in slow motion?  What does it feel like to lift up a lifeless body?  What does it feel like to see a human being’s life ebbing away, with blood oozing from a wound?

In “BEAR ANY BURDEN,” I tried to imagine these feelings as these traumatic events unfolded.

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“The officer, clearly surprised that Keller had spoken in Polish, turned his gun towards him.

Alex, looked on in horror.   His shoulder was throbbing.  Was it the cold or just tension?  He turned to Anna, thinking she would respond.  But then, Anna pulled out her pistol with silencer attached, from inside her overcoat, and shot the officer in the chest.  The shot made a “plop” noise.  He crumpled into the snow and didn’t move.  Blood from the wound started to stain the snow.  Alex was completely transfixed. Christ, he thought.  What the hell’s going on!”

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In my story, both Alex Campbell and Erik Keller finally move to block the other soldier from shooting Anna.  Keller jumped on the back of the soldier, wrapped his hands around his neck and twisted violently, breaking the soldier’s neck, as he fell in the snow.  Alex’s attempt to grab the soldier’s rifle barrel fell short.  However, a shot went off and they turned in horror to see that the stray bullet had killed Mrs. Keller.

Life can hang in the balance of a few seconds often from the response or otherwise of persons involved or on the scene.  Innocents are often killed accidentally by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Reactions in these circumstances are always unpredictable.

Fortunately, I’ve never had death stare me in the face, nor have I ever seen somebody shot and killed before my very eyes.  It would be interesting to know how near to the truth is my description of these events.
Ellis M. Goodman, author of Bear Any Burden: www.bearanyburden.com

One of my favorite programs at the Art Institute is the lunch hour “voice performance” on Thursdays. As long as I am in town, I always do my best to put everything else aside and attend the 45-minute program starting at noon. The “performance” usually features an artist, with slides projecting the artist’s work on the screen and an actor or actress speaking in the voice of the artist. It is so beautifully done that more than once I was so touched to tears.

Today, the featured artist is Margaret Burke-White (1904-1971), a woman pioneer who could make claims to many firsts: the forerunner in the field of photojournalism, the 1st female war correspondent, the 1st woman to be allowed to work in the combat zone in WWII, and one of the 1st to enter and document the death camps. She was a photographer at Fortune and her photo was on the cover of the first issue Life. Listening to her lifelong achievements was an inspiration.

What moved me today were the images she took at the end of the WWII. The head portraits of Germans who played active roles in the war—their indifference or denial of the atrocities they had committed was appalling. The haunting images of the slaved prisoners and the death camps, among which, a young man lying on a stretcher, his skeleton body revealing his bulging ribs, and his eyes blank, hopeless. These moments caught by her camera brought history alive. Her writing about these images added more vividness and depth. Sitting in the semi-darkness, I felt blood surging to my head. We certainly do not want such history repeats itself! How I admire Margaret Burke-White, a talented, brave, and dedicated woman artist.

Jian Ping: Author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. www.mulberrychild.com

Learning from the lesson from the event at Todt Hill Library, I arrived at Flushing more than an hour before the scheduled book event starting at 2 PM. I settled at the Starbuck across the street from the Queens Library and observed the stream of humanities flowing in the out of the building. I’ve heard this library is the busiest in the nation. It’s amazing to watch the flow in person.

Paul Qiu, Deputer Director of the library, was expecting me when I walked through the door at 1:30 PM. “I was about to call you,” he said. I smiled and shook hands with him. He took me to the meeting room right away, where lines of chairs, a long table, and a microphone had been set up. Large posters announcing the book event on Mulberry Child were in full view at several locations in the library, and soon I heard the intercom announcing the start of the event. I noticed that about half of the people in the audience were Americans, and the other half, a mixture of Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, and possibly other ethnic Asians whose origin I couldn’t tell. Since we had a two-hour session, we were able to get into in-depth discussions after my introduction talk and reading. I was impressed by their knowledge of the Cultural Revolution and today’ China.

Later when I got on the plane returning to Chicago, I felt the same elation that I usually got from talking directly with readers who were interested in learning more about China. Regardless of our nationality and difference in skin color or background, it is rewarding to see the resilience that carried my family through during the chaotic time continues to inspire others today.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China    

Jian Ping at Queens Library

One of the more frequent questions I have been asked in recent interviews is about creating the characters for my novel.

I believe a great deal of good fiction is based on fact.  I have found that, when one is creating characters, you are drawing upon personal experiences, people you know, or have met.  Some made positive impressions.  Some negative.

For BEAR ANY BURDEN, I had a number of key characters, the two most important being Sir Alex Campbell and Anna Kaluza.  Sir Alex Campbell, Head of a Scottish International Drinks Company had served in the Army Intelligence Corps. as a nineteen-year old Lieutenant at the end of the Second World War.  For the next forty years, he carried out “little jobs” for the British Secret Intelligence Services, from time to time.  His character was based on a number of people that I knew and worked with over 38 years in the Beverage Alcohol Industry, particularly in my 20 years experience of the Scotch Whisky Industry, before I moved to the U.S.

When I first started out in business, the first employee that I hired was a secretary.  As a young bachelor, perhaps it wasn’t surprising that I had chosen a very pretty Polish girl with high cheek bones, bright blue eyes, and long blond hair.  She had an aristocratic bearing and posture, and walked like a ballet dancer.  Her English was far from perfect and her typing was awful, but then you can’t have everything!

I remember her telling me of her family history.  She came from a land-owning family whose estates were overrun by the Germans at the beginning of the Second World War.  Her father was in the Polish Army, and she never saw him again.  She fled with her mother and brother and walked for well over 150 kilometers, eventually finding themselves in Russian occupied Poland.  They were herded on to trains and shipped off to the Russian Steppes, where she spent the whole of the War in a labor camp on a collective farm.  Just before the end of the War, they were released and spent five days and nights on a freight train, arriving in Baghdad more dead than alive.  I remember her saying that, she was so weak after that journey, she couldn’t stand.  They were then shipped off to a British camp in Uganda, eventually making their way as new immigrants to Australia, where she finished her education and became an airline stewardess.  I was deeply moved by her story and always remembered the details.  Her story provided the basis of my character, Anna Kaluza.

Other characters in the Book are also based on people that I’ve met, done business with, or socialized with.  If one is observant, it is not too difficult to call on your knowledge – past and present – of the people you’ve associated with, to create the fictional characters in your novel.  Creating the characters whom you get to know as your novel develops, can be a very interesting and rewarding part of your writing experience.

Ellis M. Goodman, author of Bear Any Burden: www.bearanyburden.com

Despite having lived in NYC for five years in the early ‘90s, I have never been to Staten Island before. A book event on Mulberry Child at the Todt Hill Library was the second talk I had during this trip to the east coast. The drizzle during the day prevented me from going to the island early to explore the place.

I wish I didn’t change my mind—by the time I emerged out the R train station and found my way to the South Ferry, I missed the 3 PM ferry by 4 minutes. The next one wouldn’t depart until 3:30 PM. I was told the ferry took about 20 minutes to reach the island. I became anxious, realizing I might be late for the 4 PM event. I called Kelly, the adult service librarian at Todt Hill and crossed my fingers that the library was not far from the port.

I was surprised the ferry ride between Manhattan and Staten Island was free and surprised again at the enormous size of the ferry boat, which, I later learned, could carry over 4,000 people each trip. I rushed off the boat the moment it docked and took a few minutes to find Kelly who came to pick me up. As luck might have it, Todt Hill is quite far away from the port and we headed right into the traffic. By the time we walked into the meeting room, I was half an hour late! I was touched that a dozen people patiently waited.

As I apologized profusely, one elder woman blurted out: “You must be taking a slow boat from China!”

I launched right into the talk and opened the floor for questions as I went along. We soon got into heated discussions, from my family’s experiences during the Cultural Revolution to the current economic development; from women’s foot binding to the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games…. Kelly stayed with us and graciously kept the library open for an extra 45 minutes to accommodate us. By the time we finished, several women came to the front and continued our conversation.

“They were really interested in your talk and fully engaged in the discussion,” Kelly said as she drove me back to the ferry. She said she’d pass the information on my book to a librarian who works with reading groups at Todt Hill. I promised if I’d have the chance to return and talk to a reading group, I’d arrive an hour ahead of schedule.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. www.mulberrychild.com