What's the Difference?

by Lu Xun

hat's the Difference?

By Lusin

Fang Hsuan-cho has recently got into the habit of saying "What's the difference?" The expression is not only constantly on the tip of his tongue but has become an integral part of his psychological make-up. He used to say "It's all the same," but he decided that was too positive and hence potentially dangerous and modified it to "What's the difference?" which has served him to this day.

The rediscovery of this banal expression gave him a new point of view and a new source of comfort. For instance, he used to get very indignant when he saw youth oppressed by age, but now he comforts himself by saying that when youth grows to old age and has children and grandchildren of its own it will in all probability behave exactly the same way. Again, he used to become very indignant when he saw a soldier beating up a ricksha man, but now he reasons that if the soldier and the ricksha man changed places one would be beating the other just the same. Sometimes he has an uncomfortable feeling that he is not being honest with himself, that he has adopted this process of reasoning because he does not have courage enough to fight the evils of society, that it is nothing but an excuse and an escape, that it comes very close to being without a sense of right and wrong, and that he should, therefore, change this cowardly attitude. However, he has not changed it, but, on the contrary, has allowed it to take a firmer hold of himself than ever.

It was in the classroom of the school where he was teaching that he first propounded his thesis that "nothing makes much difference." He had been discussing certain events in Chinese history and was prompted to remark that "the ancients and moderns are not far apart" and that "people are very much the same by nature." That naturally led to the subject of students and government officials, on which he held forth thus:

"It is the fashion nowadays to abuse public officials, and of those who criticize them there are none so vociferous as students. But we must remember that officials are not a race by themselves but have come from the people. There are many officials today who were once students; so what is the difference between them? 'It is their positions that make them appear different.' Otherwise there is no difference between them whether in thought, speech, action, or manners . . . Is it not generally admitted that even the various enterprises sponsored by the student organizations have not been free from corruption and malpractices and that many of these enterprises have collapsed as a result? There isn't much difference. But in this fact lies the cause for the dark future of China . . ."

Of the twenty-odd listeners in the room, some were reflective and seemed to agree with the speaker; others were indignant because he had blasphemed sacred youth; still others only smiled mockingly, probably because they regarded his speech as a self-defense—for Fang Hsuan-cho was an official as well as a teacher.

In reality all these suppositions were wrong, for with Fang Hsuan-cho it was only a matter of adopting a new pose, of championing a new cause that involved no danger. He knew himself that he was no agitator but a very law-abiding citizen at heart, though he was not sure whether this was due to laziness or futility. His minister had maligned him by saying that he was a psychological case, but he would never make any protest as long as his position was secure; it was now more than six months since the teachers got their last pay, but as long as he drew his other salary he would never complain. Not only did he not complain, but when the teachers held a mass meeting to demand payment of their salaries he even privately expressed the opinion that the step was too blatant and ill-advised. When his fellow officials became too critical of the teachers, however, he felt drawn towards the latter's cause. Then he told himself that he felt this way probably because he happened to be short of money and that his fellow officials did not feel the way he did because they were not at the same time teachers as he was.

Although he was in need of money, he did not join the teachers' organization. When a strike was called, however, he did not go to his classes. The government's stand that there would be no pay unless the teachers went back to their classes first made him a little angry, for that was, he said, like teasing a monkey with fruits. He was even more angry when a prominent educator expressed the opinion that it was undignified for the teachers to hold a briefcase in one hand and hold out the other for money.

"Wey, how does it happen that there are only two dishes?" he complained to his wife that evening, looking at the food on the table.

They had not received the newer brand of education, and his wife did not have any school or pet name which he addressed her by. He might have called her "taitai" according to the old custom but he did not want to be old-fashioned. He adopted, therefore, the exclamatory wey. Taitai did not even use that; he was able to infer that she was talking to him by the fact that she was, at the moment, facing him.

"We have spent all the 15 percent payment that we received last month . . . I had considerable difficulty in getting credit for rice yesterday."

"And yet they say that it is undignified for the teachers to demand their pay. These people don't seem to understand even the elementary fact that a man must eat, that he must have the rice grain in order to cook rice^[1] and that he must have money before he can buy the grain."

"That's right. How can one buy rice grain without money and how can one cook rice without . . ."

His wife's remarks served only to irritate him further and he puffed out his cheeks as if annoyed at her because her ready agreement with him showed a deplorable lack of independent spirit, between which and obsequiousness "there isn't much difference." He turned his face away from her, which was his way of announcing that he did not want to pursue the discussion further.

The teachers did get some of their back pay after staging a demonstration in front of the presidential palace on a certain dismal and rainy day, during which some of them were roughly handled by the soldiery and sustained injuries. Fang Hsuan-cho, however, got his share of the money without having taken any trouble about it at all. But after paying some of his more urgent debts he was again without funds; for now his salary as an official had also become irregular. When this happened, the high-minded officials began to feel that salaries should be paid. How much stranger must have been Fang Hsuan-cho's feelings since he was at the same time a teacher. Therefore he adhered faithfully to the decision of his colleagues to continue the strike although he still absented himself from their deliberations.

Again the government paid and the schools opened. A few days earlier the Students' Federation had submitted a petition to the government asking it to withhold the teachers' pay until they went back to their classes. The petition did not have any effect, fortunately, on the teachers' position, but it did remind Fang Hsuan-cho of the government's previous declaration that there would be no pay until the teachers went back to their classes, and it convinced him again that "there isn't much difference" between students and government officials and caused him to give public utterance to this theory of his.

Soon something else happened to confirm Fang Hsuan-cho in his thesis that "there isn't much difference," for the government now ignored the lesser officials as it once ignored the obstreperous teachers. It allowed their salaries to fall further and further in arrears until some of the high-minded officials who had criticized the teachers now became some of the most outspoken exponents of the movement to demand back pay. These officials were in turn criticized and satirized by the newspapers. This did not surprise Fang Hsuan-cho in the least, for according to his thesis the newspapers adopted their sarcastic tone because they were still receiving their subsidies. He was sure that should their subsidies stop, the journalists would also be holding mass meetings.

It was natural that Fang Hsuan-cho should approve the action of his fellow officials, since he had already expressed his sympathy for the teachers in their demand for back pay. Yet as before he sat in his office and did not take part in the meetings and demonstrations. This was not because he was trying to be different, as some people thought, but because, as he explained, he had been only dunned by others for debts but had never in his life dunned others for debts owed to him, the latter being one of the things "he was not good at."

Thus by staging frequent demonstrations the teachers and government officials managed to pull through festival after festival, though Fang Hsuan-cho found it much more difficult to make ends meet than formerly. He found that even his wife grew rebellious, to say nothing of the servant that they kept and the shopkeepers that they had dealings with. He noticed that his wife no longer agreed with everything he said as she used to but would often venture opinions of her own and act without asking his leave. For instance, when he returned home at noon on the day before the Dragon Boat Festival, she pushed a pile of bills unceremoniously right under his nose, and said without so much as looking at him, "It will take at least 180 dollars to pay these . . . Has it been issued yet?"

"Heng, I don't want to be an official any more. The check has been received, but the committee has decided to hold it, first saying that those who did not join the demonstration would not get anything and then that they must go before the committee in person to receive their salary. So as soon as they hold the funds in their hands they assume the face of the King of Hell. I don't like to see such faces . . . I don't want their money. I'll give up my post. Such humiliating tactics . . ."

Mrs. Fang was taken aback for a while at this outburst, but she recovered her self-possession almost immediately.

"I think it would be best that you go in person as they want you to. What does that amount to?" she said looking at him.

"I sha'n't go! It is my salary, not a tip, and it should be sent to me by the treasurer's office as it has always been."

"But what are we going to do, since they are not going to send it to you?—By the way, I forgot to tell you yesterday that the children said their school had repeatedly asked them to bring their tuition. They said that unless it is paid soon . . ."

"Nonsense! How could they have the brazenness to demand tuition from the students when they do not pay their fathers for their services?"

Realizing that there was no use to argue with a man who was getting unreasonable and who was not above venting upon her the displeasure that he felt against the principal of the school, she said no more.

After lunch, during which neither one said anything, he thought for a while and then went out, still in an irritable mood.

It was his usual custom in recent years to come back home around midnight on the eve of a festival and to say in a loud voice as he entered the room, "Wey, I've got my salary!" and hand over to her a bunch of Bank of China and Bank of Communications notes, not without an air of complacence. But on this the fourth day of the Fifth month he came home at the unprecedented hour of seven in the afternoon. Mrs. Fang was surprised and thought he might have really given up his job, but searching his face carefully she could not detect there anything so disastrous.

"What is it? . . . Why so early?" she asked with her eyes fixed on him.

"They can't issue the salaries today. The banks have already closed and we must wait until the eighth."

"How about the question of appearing in person before the committee?" she ventured timidly.

"That? Well, they have decided to spare us that humiliation. I was told that we'll be paid through the treasurer's office as usual. But the banks will be closed for three days over the Festival and we'll have to wait until the morning of the eighth." He sat down with his gaze fixed on the ground and then said slowly after taking a few gulps of tea, "Fortunately there is absolutely no more question of our being paid. We'll get our money on the eighth for certain . . . It is no easy matter trying to borrow from so-called friends and relatives. This afternoon I went to see Chin Yung-sheng, after a hard struggle with myself. We chatted for a while and he praised me for my not joining the demonstrations and for refusing to appear in person before the committee. He said that I took the right line of conduct for a dignified and self-respecting individual. But when he learned that I wanted to borrow fifty dollars from him, he acted as if I had stuffed a handful of salt into his mouth and his face wrinkled up in a manner which no one would have thought possible. He told me how he had not been able to collect his rents, how he had been losing money in his business, and that it was no great humiliation to appear before the committee in person. He got rid of me quickly enough."

"Who would want to lend money out at a time when people are expected to pay their debts?" Mrs. Fang said indifferently as if suggesting that it was unreasonable to expect people to behave otherwise.

Fang Hsuan-cho bowed his head in silence. He realized that his wife was right. Moreover, he was not a very close friend of Chin Yung-sheng. He recalled a similar incident which had happened at the previous New Year festival. A fellow provincial of his had come to borrow ten dollars from him, and he had sent him away empty handed by saying that he "was willing but unable to help" since he had not received his salary either from the school or the bureau, though as a matter of fact he had already received his certification from the latter. He remembered that he had assumed an air of embarrassment at the time. He could not recall now just what sort of face he made, but the recollection of the incident made him feel uncomfortable, and he compressed his lips and shook his head.

But after a short time he suddenly came back to life as if he had just had an inspiration: he commanded his servant to go out immediately and get a bottle of Lotus White on credit. He reasoned that the shop would probably not dare to refuse for fear that they might not get their portion of the Fang family's salary check. If they did refuse him credit, he said to himself, he would not pay them a single copper when he got his money, and that would just serve them right.

The servant did come back with the Lotus White and after two cups his pale face became flushed with red. After dinner he was again in good spirits. He lit a "magnum"-size Hatamen cigarette, took a copy of Hu shih's Experiments from his desk, reclined on his bed, and began to read.

"But what are we going to do about the shopkeepers tomorrow?" Mrs. Fang followed him relentlessly and asked, standing before the bed and looking at him.

"The shopkeepers? Tell them to come on the afternoon of the eighth."

"I cannot say that to them. They won't take that for an answer."

"They will have to. They can go and inquire. No one in the ministry has got his salary. All have to wait until the eighth." His hand described an arc as he opened Experiments. Mrs. Fang's eyes followed the movement and decided to say nothing as she perceived that he was in an unreasonable mood.

"I am afraid," she said after a while, "that we can't go on like this. We must find some other way out . . ."

"What do you suggest? What else can I do?"

"Didn't you use to write things for the Shanghai publishers?"

"The Shanghai publishers? Why, they figure your manuscript by the word and would not count the punctuations and blank spaces. But see how much blank space there is in the free verse that I have written. I am afraid it would only fetch three hundred coppers. Moreover, you're lucky if you received anything in six months on the royalty basis. 'Distant water will not safe a near-by fire.' I haven't that much patience."

"Then how about the newspapers here . . . ?"

"Their rates are even worse. One of my students is the editor of one of the biggest papers in town but he can't do anything. I couldn't support the family even if I should write night and day. Besides, I haven't got so much in me to write about."

"Then what are we going to do after the festival?"

"After the festival?—I'll keep my job at the ministry . . . When the shopkeepers come tomorrow, just tell them that they'll have to wait until the afternoon of the eighth."

He was about to turn to Experiments again, but Mrs. Fang did not want to miss the opportunity and so she said hastily and with diffidence:

"I think that after the festival, when the eighth comes around, we—it might not be a bad idea if we got a lottery ticket . . ."

"Nonsense! how can you say such an . . . ?

But as he chided his wife, he recalled that after his unsuccessful interview with Chin Yung-sheng that afternoon he had passed by the Rice Fragrance Village and that his attention had been arrested by the huge posters saying so many ten-thousand dollars first prize. He recalled that he had had a sudden impulse, that he might have even slackened his pace, but that he had passed on resolutely after he decided that he could not afford to gamble with the last six dimes he had. However, Mrs. Fang knew nothing of this and she concluded from her husband's sharp tone that he must be thinking what an ignorant and uneducated woman she was. She retreated hastily, while Fang Hsuan-cho settled himself down in a more comfortable position and began to read Experiments aloud.

1. There is a saying that even the cleverest housewife cannot cook rice (fan) without the grain (mi).