[作者簡介]

王屏，畢業於北京大學，1985年來到美國，就讀于紐約大學並獲比較文學博士學位。現于Macalester 大學任教。其主要作品包括：短篇小說集《美國簽證》(American Visa)， 小說《外國鬼子》(Foreign Devil)， 以及詩集《靈與肉》(Of Flesh and Spirit)。 這些著作均由Coffee House 出版社出版。 她還編輯並參與翻譯了由Hanging Loose 出版社出版的的中國當代詩歌集《新一代：中國當代詩選》(New Generation: Poetry from China Today)。 2000 年， 明尼蘇達大學出版了王的第五部作品《為美而痛：中國纏足文化》(Aching for Beauty: Footbinding in China)。 該書榮獲2001年度明州最佳圖書，以及由科羅拉多大學所頒發的Eugene M. Kayden 圖書獎，該獎項評價此書為“美國大學出版社所出版的最佳人文學科類書籍。”其平裝本於2002年春由Random House 對外發行。王屏的第六本書《神奇的鞭子》(The Magic Whip)，將於2003年秋季由Coffee House 出版社出版。 王屏先後被授予來自多方面的獎金，其中包括：國家捐贈藝術中心， 紐約藝術基金會， 明州藝術委員會，此外，王屏於2003年，獲得了由Loft Career Initiative 以及Bush Foundation所授予的獎金。

[作品簡介]

《美國簽證》

《美國簽證》，王屏的第一部短篇小說集。小說以故事主人公“海藻”的親身敍述，向讀者講述了這一年輕女人的一段坎坷的人生經歷。海藻在文革期間離開中國來到了紐約，在那個陌生的城市開始了新的生活。海藻用辛辣而又極富魅力的語言向我們展現了她所出生的家庭環境，其中包括在那個整日吵鬧的家庭中所上演的一幕幕生活鬧劇，從而使讀者瞭解到海藻最終所選擇的人生道路其實也不過是對現實的一種妥協和讓步。她想要離開那個讓人煩惱的家庭，然而接下來，她所要面對的卻又是一個陌生得甚至令人生畏的國度—美國。在小說中，王屏以她獨特的真誠而犀利的筆觸，探尋著東西方文化的差異，以及在這兩種文化背景下，作為女性的真正含義。

《外國鬼子》

講述了一個中國女孩 Ni Bing 在文革的動盪歲月裏，如何把握自己並不斷成長的故事。主人公 Ni Bing 所處的壓抑的家庭環境以及正處於文化顛覆中的動盪的社會，愈發激起了這個年輕的女孩對自由生活的渴望。然而，她的這種對於自由的執著卻使她遭到家人和朋友的排斥。當Ni Bing終於能夠踏上夢想的征途，離開中國留學美國的時候，她所面對的則是更多的艱難，其中包括，由於文化衝突所帶來的對於自我認識的困惑；來自于家人的反對；以及和一個已婚男人之間的一段以背叛而告終的戀情。

《靈與肉》

王屏首部正式出版的個人詩集。在這本集子中，王屏以她獨特的睿智和坦誠，探索關於文化，女性，性，和自我的主題。該書的筆風有時辛辣詼諧，有時又極其執著於個人化的抒情。作者在其詩歌中，巧妙地運用意象反映出她對人生的觀察和思索，以及對於自身的一種反省。王屏在她的詩中不時變換著創作背景，時而在中國時而又在美國，其中經常提出的一個問題是：“誰說一個靈魂不能夠飄洋過海？”。


《為美而痛》

“裹腳”，在中國實行了有上千年，並一度成為了中國女性的象徵，也曾是中國婦女得以于社會活動的一種必需的行為。在這部獨具建樹的論著中，王屏在人們對於裹腳的通常理解之上，進一步探究了這一行為的深意，論述了美與痛楚之間的關係。同時，從多個方面向讀者展示了裹腳的強迫性和危害性。《為美而痛》作為一部深刻的研究作品，參考了大量歷史和理論的文獻資料，充分細緻地論述了這一發人深思而又常為人誤解的行為。作者以通俗易懂的語言向讀者展示並分析了這一複雜的文化現象。她的這一作品在世界文化研究領域中具有很高的成就。

《新一代》

這部詩集是由王屏擔任編輯，並參與翻譯的。該書收集了二十四位元當代中國詩人的作品，其中大多是在“朦朧詩”以後的新一代詩人所創作的先鋒詩歌。這些詩反映了中國在近二十年以來所經歷的文化和社會的巨變。該書還收入了選自王屏本人的詩集《靈與肉》中的四首詩。

轉引自王屛的個人網站:http://www.wangping.com/



[她就是葦荻]
--Wang Ping (王屏)

別指著妳咯咯傻笑的女兒
說︰我小女兒，她叫葦荻。

別停下妳的紡輪，看著池塘，
「女孩幹嘛都得取花的名字﹖我要叫她葦荻。」

母親，哎﹗我母親叫我葦荻，
妳訴說的事令我吃驚的把杏核吞進肚裡。

「我小女兒出生時哭不出來。
妳阿姨做了隻葦笛把妳喚了回來。」

「嘴對著嘴，那笛子引導妳哭出第一聲。
難道我不該為妳取名葦笛嗎﹖」

「好名字」，我說，但我為何又咯咯傻笑了﹖
妳把我的耳朵拉過來說︰「就算妳會讀書識字
妳依然是蘆葦。」

母親，哎﹗我的母親叫我葦荻，
一年年過去，妳還記得那蘆葦嗎﹖

妳拉著我的手用力吹著蘆笛，
妳的淚水汗水把我拉回妳暖黑的窯洞。

我長得真醜，母親，又瘦又倔像池塘邊的草，
但妳知道妳不用再為我操心了。

我們徘徊山谷間採野果、摸鴿蛋，
再走上十五里去市集上賣錢籌我的學費。

我也許是唯一被蘆葦救活的人，
每回妳對新認識的人講這故事我就臉紅。

「哭得出來的娃兒才長得大」，妳笑著說，
「我要我女兒像一陣席捲黃土高原的風。」

我越長越像妳，母親，
只不過我的頭髮蔓生河川越過大海

假如妳看到個奇怪的女子大學生走進河谷，
她就是葦荻，母親，她朝妳的笛中迸發出她第一陣哭聲。


[She is That Reed]

Don’t point at your giggling daughter
and say: My last child, her name is Reed.

Don’t stop your spinning wheel,your eyes at the pond,
“Why should girls be called flowers? I want to name her Reed.”

Mother, oh my mother who called me Reed,
Your story shocked me so much I swallowed an apricot pit.

“My last daughter couldn’t cry when she was born.
Your aunt made a reed flute to call you back.”

“Mouth to mouth, the flute brought your first cry.
Ain’t I right that I named you Reed?”

“A good name,” I said, but why was I giggling again?
You pulled my ear and said: “You are still Reed even though
you learned how to read.”

Mother, oh my mother who call me Reed,
Years passed, do you still remember that reed?

You held my hand and blew the flute hard,
your tears and sweat caught me back to your dark warm cave.

How ugly I was, mother, thin and stubborn like grass in the pond,
but you knew you’d never have to worry about me again.

We roamed around valleys to pick wild fruits and pigeon eggs,
and walked fifteen miles to sell them at the fair for my tuition.

I’m probably the only person on earth saved by a reed,
I blushed every time you told the story to a strager.

“Only a crying baby could live and grow,” you smiled,
“I like my daughter whirling around the Yellow Plateau like the wind.”

I’m looking more and more like you, mother,
except my hair has grown beyond the river beyond the sea.

If you see a strange college girl walking down the valley,
she’s that Reed, mother, who blasted out her first cry into your flute.

(Wang Ping, Of Flesh and Spirit, Minneapolis: Coffee House Press, 1998, p.17.)


[妳還在生氣什麼﹖]
--Wang Ping (王屏)

我想我應該感到幸運。
我沒在胎兒期被打掉
或一出生就被丟進水缸裡。
我沒必要折斷腳趾纏出三吋金蓮
或擠壓我的肝與腎以苗條我的腰身
我應該感到幸運
我沒被塞到鏽跡斑斑的船底，
自以為將前往自由國度，
卻只得到被迫跳海的結局，
或蹲進墨西哥的拘留中心
等著被起訴傳喚。
真幸運我不用擔心被
拷上塑膠手銬遣送出境
頭髮還被噴成棕色。
真幸運我沒被鎖在海灣山脈中發霉的地窖，
晚上被強姦白天做工薪水少到不能再少。
是的，我應該感到幸運
我除了愛情與母性之外還有職業︰
我是個詩人，教師。而且正在修博士學位。

但我就是隻討人厭的野獸
因為我總是想用嘶啞的聲音尖叫。
我該如何解釋這無名的怒氣
使我無法
喘息﹖

每次我朝掛在祠堂牆上的祖先靈位鞠躬時
我就想尖叫。
它記錄了王家五十代的男性祖先
但我的女性祖先的名字
卻像蝌蚪尾巴一樣消失了。
我尖叫，可我發不出聲音。
所以我寫下這母系的族譜。

[What Are You Still Angry About?]

I guess I should feel lucky.
I wasn't aborted as a fetus
or thrown into a chamber pot as a baby.
I no longer need to break my toes to make lotus feet
or dislocate my liver and kidneys to slim my waist.
I should feel lucky
that I'm not packed at the bottom of a rusty ship,
thinking I'm going to a free country,
but only end up jumping into the ocean,
or crouching in a detention center in Mexico
waiting to be processed.
Lucky I don't have to worry about being deported in plastic handcuffs
with brown spray in my hair.
Lucky I'm not locked in some moldy basement in Bay Ridge,
raped at night and working for minimum wage during the day.
Yes, I must feel lucky
that I have vocations other than love or maternity:
I'm a poet, a teacher. and I'm doing a Ph.D.

But I must be an ungrateful beast
because I always feel like screaming with my broken voice.
How can I explain the indefinable anger that prevents me from
breathing?
I want to scream
every time I bow to my family tree which hangs
on the wall of the clan hall.
It records the men of Wang family of fifty generations
whereas the names of my female ancestors
just vanish like the tails of tadpoles.
I scream, but I have no voice.
So I write this genealogy along the maternal line.

我母親1940年生於上海。我外公是個讀書人，不介意他的第一個孩子是女兒。他為她取了個美麗的名字，沈來春—「帶來春天」(我的兩個姑姑就沒那麼幸運；她們叫來弟--「帶來弟弟」，與招弟--「招來弟弟」)。外公甚至送她進上海最好的音樂學校以成為鋼琴家。但她搞砸了一切，十七歲時與一位海軍軍官私奔到一個島上並生了孩子(就是我)。她並不真正喜歡小孩，但我父親要一個兒子傳宗接代，所以她又生了三個直到生出兒子。她漸漸感到苦悶，困在小島上一所寄宿中學教書。她與另一名海軍軍官偷情，他說有辦法把她帶回上海。但當他知道我母親無法再生育時，他不告而別。丈夫死後，她辭了教職，去當算命師與太極教練，遊歷各地醫治正常藥物無法治療的聾啞病患。53歲時，她成為有名的占卜婆。

My mother was born in Shanghai in 1940. My grandpa Waigong, being an educated man, didn't mind at all that his first child was a girl. He gave her a beautiful name, Shen Laichun--"bring spring" (My two aunts didn't have that luck; they were named Laidi--"bring brother," and Zhaodi-"lure brother"). He even sent her to the best music school in Shanghai to become a pianist. But she ruined everything by eloping with a Navy officer to an island and had a baby (that's me) at the age of seventeen. She didn't really like children, but my father wanted a son to pass down his family name, so she had three more babies until a boy was born. Gradually she became bitter, stuck on the island teaching music at a boring middle school. She had an affair with another Navy officer who promised to bring her back to Shanghai. But when he found out she could no longer have children, he left without a word. After her husband died, she quit her job and became a fortune teller and tai chi master, traveling around the country to heal the deaf and mute and those who can't be cured with normal medicine. At the age of 53, she has become a famous sorceress.

外婆，我七十三歲的外祖母，名叫陳多妮。多是過多，妮指女孩。她是江蘇一戶貧農的次女。生出她姊姊已經讓爹娘與爺爺奶奶失望了，多妮的出生根本不受歡迎。她五個妹妹都被她奶奶淹死在水缸裡。多妮長得很秀氣，頭髮又黑又密，眼睫毛又長又捲。十三歲時她有辦法幫娘接生第八個孩子了。她姊姊嫁人了，而她奶奶已經過世。當她剪斷臍帶，娘問︰

「多妮，男娃女娃﹖」

「娘，是女娃」，多妮顫聲回答。

她的娘親崩潰了。「孩子，把她放進水缸。」

多妮將渾身血污的嬰兒抱在懷裡。「我不要，娘，我不要」

「把那賤貨給我」，她爹在門外吼著。

多妮跪下了。「爹、娘我求求你們了，讓這娃兒活下去。你們把我賣了就能養活我妹妹了。讓她至少活到我的歲數吧。」

於是外婆把她自己賣到上海一家紡織廠做「包身工」(bao shenggong)—契約勞工。她工作五年，每天十四小時，一週七天，沒有工錢也不准自由外出。然而，她活下來了，而且活得很好。她成了工廠裡技術最好的工人。她將自己七歲時開始纏的纏足放了。
要把折進腳底板的骨頭扳正是件更痛苦的事。在矯正她的腳之前，我外婆每晚將雙腳泡進尿裡一個時辰——這是使骨頭鬆軟的土方子。十八歲，當她終於成為自由人時，她拒絕了工廠推薦她的工作，嫁給了我爺爺，一位在香港大銀行工作的英俊行員，成了五個小孩的母親。外婆是我所見過最聰敏最精力旺盛的女人。雖然沒上過學，她學會了讀書識字。人們說出來的話，經過十幾、二十、五十幾年她都記得清清楚楚，有此本領你根本無法質疑她們說得不是真話。而她也總是算計半天並耍手段，但常常以失敗與頭痛告終。如果她生對時代，她說不定能成為偉大的政客或外交官，至少是個優秀的間諜。

Waipo, my seventy-three-year-old maternal grandma, is called Chen Duoni. Duo means extra, ni, girl. She was the second child of a poor peasant famile in Jiangsu Province. The birth of her sister had already disappointed the parents and grandparents, and the birth of Douni was really unwelcome. her five younger sisters were all drowned in the chamber pot by her paternal grandma. Duoni was very pretty, with thick black hair and long curly eyelashes. At thirteen, she was able to help her mother give birth to her eighth child. Her elder sister was married, and her grandma already passed away. When she cut the umbilical cord, her mother asked,

"Duoni, a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, mom," Duoni answered in a trembling voice.

Her mother collapsed. "Child, put her in the chamber pot."

Duoni held the bloody baby in her arms. "I can't, mom, I can't"

"Hand me the cheap stuff," the father roared from outside the door.

Duoni knelt down. "Please, mom and dad, let the baby live. Sell me so that you can raise my sister. Let her live at least to my age."

So Waipo sold herself to a textile factory in Shanghai as a "bao shenggong"-- indentured laborer. SHe worked five years, fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, without pay or the freedom to go out. Still, she survived, and survived quite well. She was the most skillful worker in the factory. She liberated her lotus feet, which had been bound when she was seven. It was even more painful to straighten those broken bones bent under the soles. My Waipo had to soak her feet in urine for two hours every night-- a folk prescription to soften the bones--before she tried to pull them back into their normal positions. When she was finally a free person at the age of eighteen, she declined a job offer from her factory, married my grandpa, a handsome clerk at an important Hongkong bank, and became the mother of five children. My Waipo is the most intelligent and energetic woman I've ever seen. Without going to school, she learned how to read and write. She can repeat things people said ten, twenty, fifty years ago, with such authority that you can never doubt their authenticity. And she is always on some project or scheme which often ends up with troubles and headaches. If she had been born in a right age, she could have been a great politician or a diplomat, at least an excellent spy.


我的太外婆生於1902年。她是長女，但名叫張二奴——第二個女孩。她的爹娘希望送子娘娘以為這戶人家已有兩個女兒，會心生同情並儘快賜給他們一個兒子。這計謀果然有效。兩年後，二奴的娘生了兒子。二奴的爹娘感謝她招來兒子，決定將他們的女兒在家裡養到十七歲。通常十七歲大的女子能得到較多聘禮，但別人只花了五塊銀洋、一罈酒與三碗豬肉麵線就把二奴買走了。

她爹是個賭鬼，早就到處找人娶二奴以還清他的賭債。他的婆娘是有名的潑婦，把來說媒的都趕跑了。絕望之下，他把自己婆娘給賣了，得了150塊銀洋，頭一天晚上就又在賭窟裡輸光了。回家的路上，他碰到方秀才，一個鄰村的鴉片鬼。方秀才剛把女兒嫁出去，現在正要上鴉片窟。二奴的爹要借錢。方秀才告訴他說自己還完債後身上只剩五塊銀洋，而他想抽幾口煙想得緊，此外，經驗告訴他別借錢給賭鬼。二奴的爹把他拉回來說他有個十七歲的女兒，與方家二十歲的公子很配。於是他們上館子，喝了一罈米酒，吃了三碗麵線，講好條件。第二天，二奴離開賭鬼的家，進入鴉片鬼的家。

我太外婆生了八個小孩，全是女的。三個沒夭折，其他全被她婆婆溺殺了。正因她不能為丈夫傳宗接代，終其一生她都覺得自卑，對於丈夫動不動就打罵她也沒有怨言。她相信她前世一定造了孽，所以現在受到懲罰。

My Taiwaipo, my maternal great grandma, was born in 1902. She was the first child, but named Zhang Ernu--the second girl. Her parents hoped that the goddess of birth, hearing that this family already had two daughters, might feel sorry for them and send them a son as soon as possible. The trick worked. Two years later, Er Nu's mother gave birth to a son. As the parents were grateful to Er Nu for bringing an heir to their family, they allowed the daughter to live with them until she was seventeen. Usually a seventeen-year-old girl could get a much bigger betrothal, but Ernu was sold for only five silver yuan, a pot of wine and three bowls of pork noodles.

Her father, a gambling addict, had been searching for a husband for Ernu to get some cash to pay off his debts. His wife, a well-known shrew, managed to ruin all the deals. In his dispair, he sold his wife for a hundred and fifty silver yuan and lost it all in the gambling den the same night. On his way home, he met Scholar Fan, an opium addict from the nieghborhood village. He had just married off his daughter the day before and was now on his way to the opium den. Ernu's father wanted a loan. Scholar Fan told him that he had only five yuan left after paying off his debt, and he needed a few puffs really badly; besides, experiences taught him never to lend money to a gambler. Ernu's father pulled him back and said he had a seventeen-year- old daughter, a perfect match for Fan's twenty-year-old son. So they went to a restaurant, drank a pot of rice wine, ate three bowls of noodles, and made a deal. The next day, Ernu left a gambler's house and entered a drug addict's family.

My great grandma gave birth to eight children, all girls. Three survived, and the rest were all drowned by her mother-in-law. Because she didn't bring a son to carry her husband's name, she felt inferior all her life, and never complained about her husband's daily fists and insults. She believed that she must have done something horrible in her previous life, and was now being punished.

我太外婆的母親有兩個名字，張青梅和吳荷花。她五歲被賣到吳家當童養媳時，她婆婆給她改名荷花，表示擁有她的身子與靈魂，但婆婆只用自己兒子的名字叫她「三毛那口子」。她還重新纏了荷花的腳。荷花在她村裡是有名的小腳，因為她的腳從三歲開始纏起。但她婆婆嫌這雙腳太大而且纏得形狀不好。當她硬是將荷花的腳趾扳正，再重新往腳拱的更裡面折的時候，荷花不但不准痛叫出聲，還得微笑並練習用更尊敬、感恩與充滿感情的聲音對婆婆喊「娘」。「有像俺這樣的婆婆是妳的福份」，她對荷花說。「俺在妳這個年紀進吳家時，俺的婆婆把俺每根腳趾掐碎了重綁俺的腳，還叫俺從早到晚跪在院子學著喊娘。」結果荷花經歷了她婆婆當童養媳時所承受的老規矩︰清早起來開始磨黍麥、紡織、縫補、喂豬喂雞、煮飯燒菜直到午夜才能就寢。十一歲時，她被叫去與丈夫同睡。十八歲時，她初經來潮並在次年懷了頭胎。

她有了個兒子後，開始對婆婆頂嘴。漸漸地，丈夫打她，她就還手。她又年輕又結實，從不怕生活中的爭鬥，所以她總是贏家。她丈夫賣了地去還賭債而且很少回家。荷花為了撫養兒子，紡織衣物那到市集上賣，還為村人刺繡嫁衣和喪服。一天她丈夫回家。荷花緊鎖大門嘲笑他︰

「你回來幹嘛﹖能賣的全賣了，只剩下三口人嗷嗷待哺。你敢動俺的孩子，俺就宰了你。喔對呦，你可以把俺給賣了，要是你有種的話。」

她還不曉得她丈夫被賭債逼急了，已經把她賣給六條漢子，他們是表兄弟。他們住在一處山村，沒人討得起老婆。於是他們湊了150塊銀洋準備買個女人傳宗接代。荷花的丈夫警告他們說他婆娘是隻母大蟲，可得留神會大打出手。這些漢子揮著繩子與牛軛說道︰

「啥婆娘﹖你拿了咱們的錢。現在她是咱們的。就算她是凶神惡煞，咱們也有法子對付她。快給咱們帶路。」

據說，荷花，也就是我的曾祖母，抓花了四張臉，弄斷了三隻指頭，挖出了兩個眼珠還咬掉了一人的鼻子，最後給綁了起來，像條母野豬似的被抬進山區。從此後再也沒有她的消息。

The mother of my great grandma had two names, Zhang Ching Mei and Wu Hehua. When she was sold to the Wu family as a daughter-in-law-to-be at five, her mother renamed her Ching Mei into Hehua, to claim her body and soul, but she called her only by her son's name, "San Mao's so and so." She also rebound the girl's feet. Hehua was known for her small lotus feet in her own village, since her feet had been bound at the age of three. But her mother-in-law claimed they were too big and badly shaped. When she pulled Hehua's toes straight by force then bent further towards the arches, Hehua was not only forbidden to cry in pain, but had to smile and practice how to say "mom" in the most respectful, grateful, and affectionate tone. "You're lucky to have such a kind-hearted mother-in-law like me," she told Hehua. "When I came to the Wu family at your age, my mother-in-law broke every toe to reshape my feet, then ordered me to kneel in the yard to practice how to say mama from morning till night." So Hehua went through exactly the same routines as her mother-in-law did when she was a child daughter-in- law: getting up at dawn to grind corn and wheat, weaving, sewing, feeding pigs and chickens, cooking, and going to bed after midnight. At eleven, she was ordered to sleep in her husband's room. At eighteen, she had her first menstruation and her first baby the next year.

After she had a son, she began talking back to her mother-in-law. Gradually, she hit back when her husband tried to beat her up. She was young and strong, and ready to risk her life in the fight, so she always won. Her husband sold his land to pay off his gambling debt and barely came home. Hehua raised her children by weaving cloth and selling it at the fairs, and sewing wedding dresses and gravecloths for the villagers. One day her husband came home. Hehua locked the door and mocked,

"What are you doing here? Nothing left to sell, except for the three mouths waiting to be fed. If you touch my kids, I'll kill you. Oh yes, you can sell me, if you have the guts."

She didn't relaize that her husband, cornered by his debts, had already sold her to six men, who were brothers and cousins. They lived in a mountain village and no one could afford a wife for himself. So they collected 150 silver yuan and bought a woman to bear children and carry on the family name. Hehua's husband warned them that his wife was known as a tigress, that they should be prepared for a good fight. The men waved their ropes and yokes, and said,

"What wife? You've taken our money. Now she's ours. Even if she's a monster, we know how to handle her. Show us the way.

It was said that Hehua, mother of my great grandma, scratched four faces, broke three fingers, dug out two eyes, and bit off one nose before she was tied up and carried into the mountain like a captivated wild sow. She was never seen or heard from again.


荷花的母親，我曾祖母的祖母，名字很特別，叫攜娘——「撿來的女人」。某個冬天早晨，一位莊稼漢在村子的廟前台階上發現她，在一具屍體上哭泣。她不知到自己的來歷，也不知道自己叫什麼、誰是她父母。她唯一的記憶是曾隨著那死掉的人旅行過很多地方，她叫那個人爹爹。但他不是她的生父。他們賣唱乞討維生。那莊稼漢領她回家配給自己的兒子，他因禿頭討不到老婆。雖然成婚那天她給取名為攜娘，但大家總是叫她「禿子家的」。她過上幾年好日子直到公公與丈夫相繼過世。她無權在待在家中因為她沒生出兒子。她丈夫的親戚先把她女兒賣給張家，再把攜娘賣給北京一家高級青樓。他們做了筆好買賣，因為攜娘只有二十一歲，艷光照人，而且歌喉一流。據說她成了紅人。連皇帝都來微服私訪。

線索到了攜娘救斷了。我寫這族譜的所有技巧，訪問、調查、編造、想像與創作，都失去作用。這篇報告中只有五個世代。想了很久我決定在族譜上加上我姊妹與自己。

Hehua's mother, the grandma of my great grandma, had a peculiar name, Shi Niang--"a picked up woman." A peasant found her one winter morning on the steps of the village temple, crying over a dead body. She didn't know where she came from, what she was called, who were her real parents. Her only memory was traveling around many places with the dead man, whom she called father. But he wasn't really her father. They begged for food by singing songs. The peasant took her home and gave her to his son, who couldn't find a wife becuase of his baldness. Although she was given the name Shi Niang on her wedding day, everyone insisted on calling her "Baldhead's so and so." She had a few years of good life until her father-in-law, then her husband, died. She had no right to live in the house because she had no son. Her husband's relatives first sold her daughter to the Zhou family, then sold Shi Niang to a high-class brothel in Beijing. They made a good deal because Shi Niang was only twenty-one years old, stunningly beautiful, and an excellent singer. It was said that she became very successful. Even the emperor visited her in plainclothes.

The thread breaks at Shi Niang. All the techniques I have used to write this family tree, interviewing, investigating, story-telling, imagining and creating, become useless. There are only five generations on the paper. After much consideration I decide to add my sisters and myself to the tree.

王洋(﹖)…我的小妹…初中前由外婆與姑姑撫養…進入銀行學院…數學、游泳與舞蹈都是特優…瘋狂地愛上她的老師…已婚而且有個兒子…私通了六年…但這男人帶著她姊姊跑回德國…心碎了…不明白為何她親姊姊與愛人會幹出這種事…最後嫁給一個胖子…成了烹飪、縫補與打掃家裡的專家…深信家庭和婦德的重要性…它們是維繫婚姻的關鍵…

王海霞(﹖)…我的二妹…家中最美麗最有前途的孩子…討厭上學…結過一次婚…生了女兒所以離婚…無家可歸…跑到北京…王洋拜託男朋友在公司裡幫她謀個職…那男人引誘了她…帶她一起去德國…每天打她…海霞從德國打電話向我求救…想到美國…拿不到簽證…聽從我的建議還手打人…抓傷男人的臉好幾次…向警察求助…果然管用…那男人同元配離了婚娶了海霞…他自己也搞不清楚為何為了個棄婦淪落至此…海霞仍在等美國簽證…

王萍(﹖)…長女…這就是罪過…加上又醜又倔…沒人疼愛…外婆養大…為了進大學在鄉下工作三年…英語專業並在外語學校教英語…最後美夢成真…進了北京大學…初戀…一個已有兩個孩子的有婦之夫…私通五年…反抗權威…有男女問題…不服從…不低頭…內心被撕裂…說謊掩飾這關係…婚姻只維持一週…蜜月期的時候決裂…回到北京無家可歸…想逃到紐約找出路…在長島大學得到碩士學位…在教育基金會找到工作…拿到綠卡…回學校繼續修博士…仍舊在找出路…仍然心懷不滿…仍無方向感…

Wang Yan...the youngest sister...brought up by my aunts and Waipo till junior high... went to a banking college...excellent in math, swimming and dancing...madly in love with her teacher...married with a son...secret relation for six years...but the man ran off to Germany with her sister...heart-broken...couldn't understand how her own sister and her lover could do such a thing...finally married a fat man...became an expert in cooking, sewing, and house cleaning...firmly believes in the importance of a home, and virtue of a wife...the key to keep a marriage working...

Wang Haixia...the second sister...the most beautiful and promising child in the family...hated school...married once...divorced for giving birth to a girl...homeless... went to Beijing...Wang Yan asked her boyfriend to get her a job in his company...the man seduced her...took her to Germany with him...beat her up every day...Haixia called me from Germany for help...wanted to come back to America...couldn't get a visa...took my advice to fight back...scratched the man's face several time...called the police for help...it worked...the man divorced his wife and married Haixia...still wondering why he degrades himself for a divorced woman...Haixia still waiting for her American visa...

Wang Ping...first daughter...already a sin...plus ugly and stubborn...no one's favorite...grew up with Waipo...worked three years in the countryside in order to go to college...studied and taught English at a foreign language school...finally dream came true...went to Beijing University...first love...a married man with two children...five years of secret...problems with authority...problems with men...can't obey...can't say no...torn inside...start lying in relationship...marriage lasted a week...broke up in the middle of the honeymoon...returned to Beijing homeless...thought of coming to New York as a way out...received an M.A. from Long Island University...found a job at Board of Ed...started writing poetry and stories...granted a green card...went back to school again for Ph.D...still searching for a way out...still discontent...still no sense of direction...

我想我一定是隻討人厭的野獸
與其他人比較，我是家族中最幸運的女人。
引用我男朋友的話︰
「妳有雙性感的腿，
一對美麗的乳房，
一張可愛的臉孔，
腦筋又好。
妳她媽的還有什麼好生氣的﹖」

是的，我想我該覺得幸運。
我姊姊在中國還得扮演
溫順的妻子並孝順
婆婆，
而我卻可以嘲弄舊中國的婦女
箴言
並創造我自己對男人的規則。
例如這樣︰
1)男人總想尋找完美的女人︰她同時是母親與孩子，既溫柔又堅強；她對其他男人是貞女，但在丈夫床上如蕩婦。
2)男人總是抱怨女人用俗事綁住他們。但當他們沒伴侶時，並沒有昇華到天上去，而是用酒醉與爭鬥中消耗自己。
3)絕對不可以真心信任男人，假如妳不幸墜入情網，千萬別告訴他。
4)假如男人向妳要錢，一毛錢也別給他。
5)假如妳向男人要錢而他不甘不脆，立刻把他最值錢的東西變賣並遠走高飛。
6)妳最大的優勢在於每個男人都相信自己不可或缺並了解女人的需要。

我可以放聲大笑，
但我仍感覺內心在尖叫。
我仍然倚賴我出生以來
學會的本領，
與男人上床的本領，
陰險而狡猾
同時討好而嫵媚。
我仍有個主子，
他的喜怒控制我的情緒與行動。
我必須尖叫，就算我根本啞掉了。
自從我出生，
沉默是我唯一的武器。
但現在不管用了。
想說話的渴望
使我得不到平靜
如飢餓的人。
我的言不盡意，
但它們是表達的唯一工具。
我必須尖叫，發自我無聲的喉嚨，
就算我得打嗝與放屁，
並忍受週期性的腹瀉。
我不在乎。
我將自我與世界撕成兩半，
尋找我仍在生氣的原因。

I guess I must be an ungrateful beast.
Compared to everyone else, I'm the luckiest woman in the family.
To quote my boyfriend,
"You have sexy legs,
pretty breasts,
a lovely face,
and a good brain.
So what the hell are you still angry about?"

Yes, I guess I should feel lucky.
My sister in China still plays the role of the obedient wife and filial
daughter-in-law,
whereas I make fun of the old Chinese Women's Commandments
and create my own rules about men.
It goes like this:
1) Men always seek an ideal woman: she is a mother and child at once, soft and strong at the same time; she must be a virtuous model to other men, but act like a whore in his bed.
2) Men often complain that women tie them down to the earth. But when they are left alone, instead of transcending to the sky, they entirely wear themselves out in drunkeness and competition.
3) Men are never ever to be trusted with your heart, and if unfortunately you fall in love with one, don't tell him.
4) If a man asks you for money, don't ever give it to him.
5) If you ask a man for money and he acts cheap, sell his richest possession and leave at once.
6) Your greatest strength is that every man believes that he is indispensable and knows every woman's need.

I can laugh as much as I want,
but I still feel like screaming inside.
I still depend upon the skills I was taught
since my birth,
the skills to lie to men,
to scheme and be wily
as well as to please and charm.
I still have a master,
whose caprices control my sentiments and acts.
I must scream, even though I have no voice.
Since my birth,
silence has been my single weapon.
Now it no longer suffices.
The need to speak
leaves me restless
like a hunger.
My words may not say what I mean,
but they're also the only means.
I must scream, through my voiceless throat,
even if I have to burp and fart,
and suffer from chronic diarrhea.
I don't care.
I'm tearing myself and this world apart,
to find out why I'm still angry.