City of Working Women: Life, Space, and Social Control in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing 1557290989, 9781557290984

Table of contents :
Cover
Notes to this edition
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Preface
Introduction
1. Women in the City
2. Livelihood
3. Neighborhood
4. Leisure
5. Actresses
6. Prostitutes
7. Policing Women
Conclusion
Bibliography
Index
Back Cover

Citation preview

City of Working Women Life, Space, and Social Control in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing

Weikun Cheng

CHINA RESEARCH MONOGRAPH 64

Notes to this edition This is an electronic edition of the printed book. Minor corrections may have been made within the text; new information and any errata appear on the current page only. China Research Monograph 64 City of Working Women: Life, Space, and Social Control in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing Weikun Cheng ISBN-13: 978-1-55729-153-0 (electronic) ISBN-13: 978-1-55729-098-4 (print) ISBN-10: 1-55729-098-9 (print)

Please visit the IEAS Publications website at http://ieas.berkeley.edu/publications/ for more information and to see our catalogue. Send correspondence and manuscripts to Katherine Lawn Chouta, Managing Editor Institute of East Asian Studies 1995 University Avenue, Suite 510H Berkeley, CA 94720-2318 USA [email protected]

May 2015

City of Working Women

CHINA RESEARCH MONOGRAPH 64 CENTER FOR CHINESE STUDIES

City of Working Women Life, Space, and Social Control in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing

Weikun Cheng

A publication of the Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, Berkeley. Although the institute is responsible for the selection and acceptance of manuscripts in this series, responsibility for the opinions expressed and for the accuracy of statements rests with their authors. The China Research Monograph series is one of several publication series sponsored by the Institute of East Asian Studies in conjunction with its constituent units. The others include the Japan Research Monograph series, the Korea Research Monograph series, and the Research Papers and Policy Studies series. Send correspondence and manuscripts to Katherine Lawn Chouta, Managing Editor Institute of East Asian Studies 2223 Fulton Street, 6th Floor Berkeley, CA 94720-2318 [email protected] Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Cheng, Weikun, 1953-2007. City of working women : life, space, and social control in early twentiethcentury Beijing / Weikun Cheng. p. cm. -- (China research monograph ; 64) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-1-55729-098-4 ISBN-10: 1-55729-098-9 1. Women--China--Beijing--Social conditions--20th century. 2. Working class women--China--Beijing--History--20th century. 3. City and town life--China-Beijing--History--20th century. 4. Public spaces--China--Beijing--History--20th century. 5. Beijing (China)--Social conditions--20th century. I. Title. HQ1770.B36C44 2011 305.48’96230951156--dc22 2011001027

Copyright © 2011 by the Regents of the University of California. Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. Cover: Anonymous [Qing dynasty], Sailing a Land Boat. Actresses in a “land boat,” a model boat made with wooden frames and skirts, used as a stage prop during performances. Performers usually made themselves up as characters in dramas such as The Romance of the White Snake and danced about according to the plots. From Beijing minjian fengsu baitu [A pictorial record of old Peking folklore] (Beijing: Beijing tushuguan chubanshe, 2003). Image used by permission of the National Library Press, Beijing.

Contents

Preface Introduction 1. Women in the City 2. Livelihood 3. Neighborhood 4. Leisure 5. Actresses 6. Prostitutes 7. Policing Women Conclusion Bibliography Index

vii 1 21 48 73 98 134 165 197 231 238 259

Preface

Unfortunately, Weikun Cheng (1953–2007) was unable to write a preface for this book. He (together with his wife, Xiaoping Lei) left us due to an automobile accident at the end of 2007. However, we feel relief to see that his book City of Working Women: Life, Space, and Social Control in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing, a project Weikun worked on for many years, will be out soon. As Weikun’s colleagues and friends, and, more importantly, as his fellow students in the Ph.D. program under Professor Bill Rowe at Johns Hopkins University, we would like to take this opportunity to introduce his life and academic career to our readers. Weikun received his undergraduate degree in history from Sichuan University (1977–1982) and graduate training in modern Chinese history from the People’s University of China (1982–1984). After graduation, he became a lecturer at the Institute of Qing History at the People’s University, the leading research institute in this field in China. During his five years at the Institute of Qing History (1984–1989), Weikun established his academic reputation in China with twenty articles published in academic journals in Chinese, which resulted from the massive research he conducted on the rich sources in the First National Archive, Beijing Municipal Archive, and major libraries. His special interest then was the 1911 Revolution and its economic and social impact, but his research also ranged more widely, from the anti-Christian missionary movements and secret societies to political parties and the transformation of popular culture. Weikun focused his attention on the popular movements that laid a ground for the Republican revolution. Weikun enrolled in the Ph.D. program at Johns Hopkins University in 1989 and studied with Bill Rowe for six years, earning his doctoral degree in 1995. During 1994 and 1997, he was a visiting assistant professor at the Department of History, State University of New York at Oswego. In 1997, Weikun joined the Department of History of California State University, Chico. He was tenured and promoted as an associate professor in 2002. A month before his death, a unanimous vote was cast in favor of his promotion to full professor.

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During his years at Hopkins, Weikun’s interest shifted to social history and, in particular, women’s active role in challenging, shaping, and reinventing urban social fabrics and cultural forms in the early twentieth century, which at that time was still an understudied field just beginning to draw research attention. His dissertation was an investigation of the political and social changes in northern Chinese women’s lives. He adopted a unique approach to comparing different female groups in their comprehension of the concept of liberation, and he explored the multiple meanings of feminism in China. From his dissertation, Weikun published two articles, one of which is “The Challenge of the Actresses,” questioning the dominant assumption held by both Western and Chinese historians that ordinary Chinese women were victims of Confucian ideology and social institutions. The article reveals how actresses, who pursued professional careers and freedom in the public world, could challenge the established gender mores and be role models for other women.1 The other article, titled “Going Public through Education,” modifies the theory of the two separate gender spheres and demonstrates how women could use education strategically as an instrument to turn the private/female sphere into a heterosocial public sphere.2 Besides these two articles, Weikun had at least five other publications in English and several in Chinese. His article “Politics of the Queue” examines political transformations in the early and late Qing from a new angle.3 Another, titled “Creating a New Nation, Creating New Women,” discusses the hot issue of women and nationalism and explains how Chinese women created a new identity in the process of building the modern Chinese nation-state.4 His third and fourth articles, “Organized Women in the National Politics” and “Women in Public Spaces,” analyze similar issues surrounding the role of female societies and the relations among theaters, modernity, actresses, and moralist discourses in early twentiethcentury Beijing.5 Weikun’s last piece, “In Search of Leisure,” explores 1  Weikun Cheng, “The Challenge of the Actresses: Female Performers and Cultural Alternatives in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing and Tianjin,” Modern China 22, no. 2 (1996): 197–233. 2  Weikun Cheng, “Going Public through Education: Female Reformers and Girls’ Schools in Late Qing Beijing,” Late Imperial China 21, no. 1 (2000): 107–144. 3  Weikun Cheng, “Politics of the Queue: Agitation and Resistance in the Beginning and End of Qing China,” in Hair: Its Power and Meaning in Asian Cultures, edited by Alf Hiltebeitel and Barbara D. Miller, 123–142 (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY Press, 1998). 4  Weikun Cheng, “Creating a New Nation, Creating New Women: Women’s Journalism and the Building of Nationalist Womanhood during the Period of 1911 Revolution,” in Chinese Nationalism in Perspective: Historical and Recent Cases,” edited by C. X. George Wei and Xiaoyuan Liu, 15–32 (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Publishing, 2001). 5  Weikun Cheng, “Organized Women in the National Politics: An Analysis of Female Societies in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing,” American Review of China Studies 4, no.

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women’s activism through their participation in festivals in late Qing Beijing. This article is especially meaningful as it addresses the disputes between ordinary women and the ruling elite and shows a pioneering effort in exploring ordinary women’s pursuit of freedom and personal gratification in public spaces in late imperial Beijing. In an attempt to add women’s leisure and social lives to the repertoire of Chinese women’s studies, he has opened our eyes to the various forms of women’s resistance.6 Thus, Weikun’s major contributions lie in the area of Chinese women and urban history. This book will be a major contribution to feminist scholarship, especially to the study of lower-class urban women in China. The work contains solid research based on a variety of original sources including local archives, newspapers and magazines, memoirs, social surveys, and interviews. Situating laboring-class women in the larger context of the political liberalization and the profound social and economic transformations in late Qing and early Republican Beijing, the book presents a nuanced picture of women’s potentials and possibilities, and their dangers and anxieties, in a rapidly changing city, and it captures their active and controversial use of urban public spaces. This book introduces to Western readers handicrafts women, maidservants, female beggars, actresses, and several other categories of female workers of which we lack basic awareness. Arguing that urban women successfully colonized public space as their everyday space and used public space to extend their opportunities and influences, the book diverts our sight from women’s domestic domain to a public domain where women played significant roles in employment, entertainment, and social interactions. Mainly dealing with women in the urban public space, the book balances two feminist approaches: treating women as agents and using gender as an analytical category. Weikun’s unique perspectives and thorough analysis of women’s everyday lives and resistant strategies add to our understanding of women’s culture and identity in early twentieth-century China. Moreover, the focus on lower-class women’s use of urban public space opens a new dimension in the study of modern Chinese cities. Through the lens of women’s everyday experience, the book presents Beijing as a city of contradictions. The Republican revolution overthrew the crumbling Qing government, but the new parliamentary politics remained offlimits to women, especially the laboring-class women who constituted the the majority of the female population of Beijing. The imperial economy, 1 (2003): 1–14; “Women in Public Spaces: Theater, Modernity, and Actresses in Early Twentieth-Century Beijing,” Asian Journal of Women’s Studies 9, no. 3 (2003): 7–45. 6  Weikun Cheng, “In Search of Leisure: Women’s Festivities in Late Imperial Beijing,” Chinese Historical Review 14, no. 1 (2007): 1–28.

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which made Beijing a center of consumption rather than production, declined as a result of regime change, political instability, and massive poverty, but the lackluster industrialization did not provide women with new options and better alternatives for securing a livelihood. Radical intellectuals had called for a cultural revolution that sought to give women an equal footing in social and economic arenas, but the imperial gender norms that formulated a gendered separation of space and labor retained their cultural force and thereby resisted women’s claims to urban public space. Laboring-class women’s experience highlights these incomplete changes, inadequate developments, inconsistent reforms, and inconclusive debates in early twentieth-century Beijing and also allows us to study what these meant to women in their daily struggles. Before the accident, Weikun’s manuscript had been accepted for publication by the Institute of East Asian Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, but he was still working on revisions, and the final version of the manuscript had not yet been submitted to the press when he passed away. Since then we have worked closely with IEAS to ensure the publication of the book. We are very grateful to Joanne Sandstrom and Katherine Lawn Chouta, successive editors at IEAS, for their efforts in publishing this book, especially to the latter for her copyediting and her guidance of the book through production. We would also like to thank Laird Easton, chair of the Department of History at California State University, Chico, for providing funds for the indexing of this book. Although we have tried our best to help answer all the queries raised during its editing, we might not have been able to handle them very well and hope our readers will understand that the end product lacks the author’s final approval. Di Wang, Texas A&M University Zhao Ma, Washington University in St. Louis

Introduction

This book investigates the life experiences of ordinary women, specifically in connection with Beijing’s urban public spaces, during the late Qing and early Republican periods. The narrative starts with the last decade of the Qing dynasty (1644–1912), when urban reforms began to transform the cityscape, provide more material goods, and inspire a feminist movement. The story ends in 1928, when the Nationalist Party (Guomindang) subjugated the local women’s movement to a nationalist feminism and increased its intervention in lower-class women’s lives. During this time, women’s use of urban public spaces grew as dramatic cultural shifts changed social attitudes toward the presence of women in public. Significant political and cultural events such as the late Qing reforms, the Revolution of 1911, the New Culture Movement of the 1910s and 1920s, and the reunification of China by the Nationalist Party in 1928 removed many social barriers that had confined women to their homes and led to more relaxed social mores. The presence of commoner women, who ventured into the streets for economic, social, and entertainment purposes, became more accepted but also more controversial. Women’s activities became more prevalent and innovative in the last decade of the Qing dynasty, even while conventional rituals changed little. Middle-class women ventured outside to take their daughters to school and attend political rallies and charity drives while lower-class women sought to earn a living and find entertainment in the streets. This phenomenon might have resulted from the breaking down of domestic constraints and women’s desire to find meaning in their lives, or it could have been prompted by economic necessity, familial obligations, or a need for temporary escape from quotidian obligations; regardless, it does not necessarily suggest liberation. Context, format, and motivation usually dictated a woman’s behavior outside her home. In this transitional period, when social norms deteriorated and urban reforms were implemented at unprecedented levels, women’s public roles and

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identities tended to be more complex and ambiguous. We can find evidence of women using old customs to justify vacations or their involvement in the booming new entertainment industry; we can also identify the intertwining of traditional professions for women with the new concept of self-employment on the street by lower-class women as a solution to rampant urban poverty. Still, we cannot ignore the phenomenon in which the wives and daughters of working-class men scrambled for various kinds of low-end jobs. One thing is clear: women in Beijing didn’t present a homogenous social category; their reactions to the shifting and challenging social environment varied. Middle-class and working-class women adopted different approaches to their participation in the construction and reconstruction of urban public spaces. Study of Women and the City The study of commoner women’s everyday lives and their use of urban public spaces in early twentieth-century Beijing is rooted in feminist scholarship. Scholarly inquiries into women and labor history, urban prostitution, and modernization have been particularly helpful to the formulation of this book’s framework. Publications on the female industrial workforces in Shanghai, Tianjin, and Hangzhou supplement our understanding of women’ strategies for survival, unfair treatment in the workplace, social networks, and political consciousness, as well as the governmental policies regarding women. Scholars have found that cotton mill workers went to the city from rural areas, organized sisterhoods based on kinship and native place, and struck for better jobs and welfare benefits. Their common experience of working in low-skilled, low-paying jobs and facing discrimination because of marriage and pregnancy didn’t necessary unite them, because regional loyalties and kinship networks tore them apart. The mundane realities of these women’s experiences contradict the old assertion that women, as part of the exploited working force, were unified and acquired class awareness under the Communist Party.1 More relevant to our understanding of working-class women in Beijing during the late Qing and Republican periods are scholarly examinations of women who worked in nonfactory jobs in various sectors as actresses, dance girls, waitresses, and prostitutes. In theaters, dance halls, and teahouses, female employees often replaced males but had to trade their sexuality and reputations for job security and income. Their public

1  Hershatter, The Workers of Tianjin, 1900–1949; Honig, Sisters and Strangers; Perry, Shanghai on Strike; and Rofel, Other Modernities.

Introduction

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presence was controversial and led to debates and increased control by the state, the police, and urban reformers.2 Among lower-class women, prostitutes have been the subject of the most scholarly research. Scholars generally contend that prostitutes were working women who operated under a professional hierarchy, organizing their own businesses and negotiating with male clients to earn a living. Still, male elites who had exalted courtesans as a symbol of urban sophistication during the late imperial dynasties considered prostitution a social epidemic and an example of cultural backwardness during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The state’s desire to regulate and eventually eliminate the sex trade thus became a symbol of national revitalization and government morality.3 The largest category of working women was made up of housewives whose efforts blurred the boundaries between workplace and household. Yet, the values and stereotypes that demeaned women’s work changed slowly, even as women played a greater role in the local economy. When they worked outside their domestic spaces, they encountered sexual harassment, social prejudice, and other dangers.4 According to Gail Hershatter, “It was not work per se, but the location in which it was performed, that exposed women to various dangers.”5 A third direction in the scholarship that inspired my research is the women’s emancipation movement affiliated with nationalism and modernity. Many scholars agree that the feminist movement in late Qing and early Republican China was a by-product of the nationalist movement. Intellectuals and the state attributed China’s backwardness and political weakness to the customs and faiths that undermined women’s physical and intellectual prowess, and they regarded women’s emancipation as

2  Henriot, Prostitution and Sexuality in Shanghai; Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures; Wang, “Masters of Tea”; and Yufu Huang, “Chinese Women’s Status as Seen through Peking Opera,” in Tao, Zheng, and Mow, Holding up Half the Sky, 30–38. 3  Gail Hershatter, “Prostitution and the Market in Women in Early Twentieth-Century Shanghai,” in Watson and Ebrey, Marriage and Inequality in Chinese Society, 256–285; Hershatter, “The Hierarchy of Shanghai Prostitution, 1870–1949”; Hershatter, “Courtesans and Streetwalkers”; Hershatter, “Modernizing Sex, Sexing Modernity: Prostitution in Early Twentieth-Century Shanghai,” in Gilmartin et al., Engendering China, 147–174; Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures; Henriot, “Chinese Courtesans in Late Qing and Early Republican Shanghai”; Henriot, “ ‘From a Throne of Glory to a Seat of Ignominy’ ”; Henriot, Prostitution and Sexuality in Shanghai; Gronewold, Beautiful Merchandise; Ho, “Selling Smiles in Canton”; and Xiaoqing Ye, “Commercialization and Prostitution in Nineteenth Century Shanghai,” in Finnane and McLaren, Dress, Sex, and Text in Chinese Culture, 37–57. 4  Pruitt, A Daughter of Han; Wolf, Revolution Postponed; Jacka, Women’s Work in Rural China; Rogaski, “Beyond Benevolence”; and Rofel, Other Modernities. 5 Hershatter, “State of the Field.”

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an approach to achieve national modernity.6 Beginning at the end of the nineteenth century, reformers established girls’ schools and abolished the binding of women’s feet in an effort to cultivate “virtuous wives and wise mothers” (xianqi liangmu).7 In the last decade of the Qing, feminists in Shanghai and Tokyo published periodicals, organized women’s societies, sponsored nationalist boycotts and rights-recovery projects, and participated in the anti-Manchu revolution. Though many were motivated by women’s rights, the majority likely subjugated their feminist pursuits to the higher nationalist goal.8 The discourse about women’s liberation that portrayed Chinese women as victims symbolizing the national humiliation of this period repudiated the long-standing tradition of educating daughters in elite households.9 After the Revolution of 1911, the women’s suffrage movement came into being and girls’ schools flourished, yet Yuan Shikai’s government retained a conservative attitude toward radical feminism and upheld the ideal of nationalist womanhood.10 In the New Culture Movement and its aftermath in the 1920s, intellectuals used women’s issues as ammunition to attack Confucian ideology and Chinese social institutions, thus linking women’s emancipation to national modernity. They celebrated the Western-influenced “new women” (xin nüxing) as role models and associated the issues of prostitution, child rearing, sexuality, women’s consumerism, and female fashion with the interest of the nation. The political parties then integrated the women’s movement politically and ideologically into the larger nationalist cause, although they negotiated between patriarchal families and women’s rights.11 Chow, Women and Chinese Modernity; Larson, Women and Writing in Modern China. Ono, Chinese Women in a Century of Revolution, 1850–1950; Levy, The Lotus Lovers; Croll, Feminism and Socialism in China; and Croll, Changing Identities of Chinese Women. 8  Rebecca Karl, “Slavery, Citizenship, and Gender in Late Qing China’s Global Context,” in Karl and Zarrow, Rethinking the 1898 Reform Period, 212–244; Sally Borthwick, “Changing Concepts of Women from the Late Qing to the May Fourth Period,” in Pong and Fung, Ideal and Reality, 63–91; Edwards, “Chin Sung-Ts’en’s ‘A Tocsin for Women’ ”; Mary Rankin, “The Emergence of Women at the End of the Ch’ing: The Case of Ch’iu Chin,” in Wolf and Witke, Women in Chinese Society, 39–66; and Beahan, “Feminism and Nationalism in the Chinese Women’s Press.” 9  Hu, Tales of Translation; Joan Judge, “Reforming the Feminine: Female Literacy and the Legacy of 1898,” in Karl and Zarrow, Rethinking the 1898 Reform Period, 158–179. 10  Witke, “Transformation of Attitudes towards Women during the May Fourth Era of Modern China”; Ono, Chinese Women in a Century of Revolution; and Charlotte Beahan, “In the Public Eye: Women in Early Twentieth-Century China,” in Guisso and Johannesen, Women in China, 215–238. 11  Gilmartin, Engendering the Chinese Revolution; Wang, Women in the Chinese Enlightenment; Johnson, Women, the Family, and Peasant Revolution in China; Edwards, “Policing the Modern Woman in Republican China”; Barlow, The Question of Women in Chinese Feminism; Finnane, “What Should Chinese Women Wear?”; Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures; and Stacey, Patriarchy and Socialist Revolution in China. 6

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Introduction

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Scholarly research on working women, female sexuality, and women’s emancipation laid the foundation for research on lower-class women’s lives in late Qing and early Republican Beijing. Women in Beijing, as in other Chinese cities, were productive and moved between the domestic and public domains. Their involvement in prostitution and the entertainment industry raised employment rates and reduced financial pressures on impoverished households, yet it also gave rise to a nationalist discourse and social reforms that led to increased intervention by the state in individual lives. Still, Beijing was not Shanghai, Tianjin, or other coastal cities, and women there lived under different circumstances. How can we study women in the workplace who never worked in factories? Can we exclude from the scope of academic inquiry those who never had the chance to join labor-union strikes or feminist campaigns, who were not politically mobilized and organized, or who were mainly obsessed by material impulses and cultural norms? How much do we know about those who didn’t move in elite circles or who lived in an inland city with limited Western influence? The goal of this study, unlike others, is not to address one particular group of women but instead to examine as a unit the broader category of lower-class women in Beijing. This decision has much less to do with the elite women’s process of Westernization than with the accommodations ordinary women made to cope with modern life. The project seeks to correct what Judith Stacy calls the “area-specialist fallacy,”12 a tendency since the 1970s in which “generalizations about Chinese women often do not take ethnic or regional differences into account.”13 Since my primary focus is on women and urban public spaces, the research extends feminist interests from reproduction and family life to women’s roles beyond the home. Urban public spaces are seen both as a platform where women pursued freedom and as a site where they encountered discrimination and oppression, thus making relevant the dual approaches of women’s agency and gender analysis. Susan Brownell and Jeffrey N. Wasserstrom elaborated on the distinction between the two basic approaches in academic feminism. The “inequality-patriarchy approach” recognizes the ubiquitous domination of females by males and leads to women’s studies, which examine the process of domination and honor the experiences of formerly or currently voiceless members of the oppressed group. The “gender studies approach” emphasizes the social and cultural constructions of gender and, in particular, how the concept of gender differences

12  13 

136.

Stacey, “A Feminist View of Research on Chinese Women.” Teng, “The Construction of the ‘Traditional Chinese Woman’ in the Western Academy,”

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has changed over time.14 The current study seeks a combination of the two approaches that places the oppression of women and women’s resistance in a context through which perceptions of women were changed and the patriarchal society reconfigured. Studies of Chinese urban history and culture, which are also revisionist and constructive, parallel and overlap this effort. Works on municipal governments, police forces, utility companies, provincial lodges, public spaces, popular culture, and urban reforms have facilitated a new understanding of Chinese urban environments. Scholars have analyzed the conflict between traditional cultural norms and sweeping urban changes and have attempted to identify the various approaches of Chinese urban modernization. They have shifted their attention from the new intellectuals and the communist revolution to factory workers, merchants, women, sojourners, and other marginal groups, exploring how the urban experience shaped their identities vis-à-vis class, gender, ethnicity, and native origin.15 Their investigations of the public sphere, which signified the shifting of local power from state control to the hands of the gentry class, altered our understanding of the Chinese state and society.16 Recent scholarship further examines, through the perspectives of cultural production and representation, the development and forms of urban culture as seen in popular novels, films, regional operas, teahouses, street leisure, and other cultural symbols, thereby extending our knowledge of the urban transformation over the course of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and its complexity.17 Among numerous publications on modern Chinese cities, three books about Beijing are particularly insightful and relevant to my project. Susan Naquin’s masterpiece, Peking: Temples and City Life, 1400–1900, elaborates how the identity of the imperial capital came into being during the Ming and Qing periods. Through a study of local temples, she reveals the ingenious use of religious sites as public spaces by diverse groups whose activities fashioned community identity and culture. David Strand and 14  Susan Brownell and Jeffrey N. Wasserstrom, “Introduction: Theorizing Femininities and Masculinities,” in Brownell and Wasserstrom, Chinese Femininities/Chinese Masculinities, 1–41. 15  Goodman, Native Place, City, and Nation; Hershatter, The Workers of Tianjin, 1900–1949; Honig, Sisters and Strangers; Honig, Creating Chinese Ethnicity; Perry, Shanghai on Strike; Wakeman and Yeh, Shanghai Sojourners; and Belsky, Localities at the Center. 16  The representative works on this issue are Rowe, Hankow: Commerce and Society in a Chinese City, 1796–1889; Rowe, Hankow: Conflict and Community in a Chinese City; and Strand, Rickshaw Beijing. 17  Lee, Shanghai Modern; Link, Mandarin Ducks and Butterflies; Yeh, Becoming Chinese; Zhang, The City in Modern Chinese Literature and Film; Lu, Beyond the Neon Lights; Stapleton, Civilizing Chengdu; Wang, Street Culture in Chengdu; Finnane, Speaking of Yangzhou; and Wu, Remaking Beijing.

Introduction

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Madeleine Yue Dong both examine the history of Republican Beijing. Strand’s Rickshaw Beijing: City, People, and Politics in the 1920s illustrates the rising political consciousness of the residents who established professional associations and experimented with political participation in the burgeoning public sphere. Through the lens of social history, Strand precisely analyzes the city’s complicated power relations, especially the struggles of ordinary people and interactions in the new political context. Distinct from Strand’s, Dong’s book, Republican Beijing: The City and Its Histories, is mainly about the city’s modern transformation. Dong convincingly shows how Republican Beijing entered the modern era halfway before reconstructing its traditional culture. Her vivid depiction of markets and street shows in Tianqiao illustrates how the urban poor claimed their rights to public spaces and maintained their way of life during the process of modernization.18 All three authors celebrate everyday life in the city, though they address very little about women’s lives. With great sympathy, they describe how ordinary people managed their lives or adapted to the modern transformation and in so doing redefined public spaces—temples, streets, parks, and neighborhood squares—as sites for negotiating with the state, practicing politics, or developing their identities. As the capital city and the center of Chinese history and culture, Beijing is always a marvel for scholars of various disciplines. During the era of “old Beijing” fever in the 1990s, a nostalgic cultural rescue movement in response to rapid growth and the deterioration of traditional culture, scores of materials including books, tourist guides, and photographs of the city were reprinted; movies and TV series based on stories about traditional Beijing life and culture were produced; and research (including oral histories) on Beijing cuisine, dwellings, markets, temples, festivals, amusements, historical sites, and many other subjects was promoted.19 An analogous endeavor, no less nostalgic, can be found in the recent reprinting of old books on Beijing, and the printing of new ones, by presses Naquin, Peking; Strand, Rickshaw Beijing; and Dong, Republican Beijing. Several institutions and publishing houses are actively bringing to the public works from Beijing’s traditional culture. Yanshan Press (Yanshan chubanshe) published the Old Accounts of Beijing series (Beijing jiuwen congshu) and the Old Beijing series (Lao Beijing congshu) in the 1990s. Beijing Press (Beijing chubanshe) published “The Essence of Beijing Literature and History” (“Beijing wenshi ziliao jinghua”) in 1999. The History Institute of the Beijing Social Science Academy edited the Beijing History series (Beijing lishi congshu), published by the Beijing Press in 1999. That same year, the Chinese City Press (Zhongguo chengshi chubanshe) published “Chatting about Beijing History” (“Beijing shihua”). In addition, Xueyuang Press (Xueyuang chubanshe) published in 2002 the Rabbit Lord Old Beijing History, Geography, and Popular Culture series (Tuye Lao Beijing shidi minsu congshu), edited by Chang Renchun and his editorial board. 18  19 

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in the West.20 In both the Chinese and Western references, however, Beijing women as a focus of scholarly inquiry are neglected at worst or marginalized at best. Women in the city have not yet constituted a justifiable topic for research. This has created an urgent demand for the integration of women’s experiences into the history of Beijing and for new urban histories to be filtered through gender-specific perspectives. Women’s absence in current scholarship by no means suggests that women did not play significant roles in the city’s development, however. Despite the fact that women in Beijing were largely isolated at home or restricted in public by Confucian ideology, social customs, and male authority figures during the imperial dynasties, they were never invisible or silent. In the transition from the late Qing and to the early Republican periods, women more often entered public areas in the city, playing multiple roles in production, service, and consumption and increasing their influence. No single pattern characterized the way they approached the city, nor did their use of city resources develop along a linear path. Women of all kinds challenged the city’s sexually segregated social spheres and physical spaces and pursued life on their own terms. Maureen A. Flanagan once argued that “by being in the city, women were part of the city.”21 Women’s everyday activities and their struggles under the prevailing gender power relations constituted a crucial part of Beijing history. The ways they conceived of, designed, and used urban public spaces differed from those of men and provide a unique angle through which to examine the realities of urban life. This book is a testimony to lower-class women’s constant negotiations, alliances, and assertions in their struggles to survive in a domain—the public space—where their legitimacy as participants was always questioned. Through an examination of the many facets of laboring women’s resistance, this book reinforces the feminist tendency to alter the image of Chinese women as solely victims and restores their historical agency.22 It also analyzes lower-class 20  The most popular accounts by the elderly are In Search of Old Peking by L. C. Arlington and William Lewisohn, originally published by Henry Vetch (Peking) in 1935 and reprinted by Paragon Book Reprinting of New York in 1967; H. Y. Lowe’s two-volume work The Adventures of Wu, published by Peking Chronicle Press in 1940 and 1941 and reprinted by Princeton University Press in 1983; Juliet Bredon’s Peking, published in 1924 by T. Werner Laurie (London), and The Moon Year, by Bredon and Igor Mitrophanow, published in 1927 by Kelly and Walsh (Shanghai), both of which have been reprinted by Oxford University Press; Colonel V. R. Burckhardt’s Chinese Creeds and Customs, published by Hong Kong’s South China Morning Post in 1982; The Years that Were Fat by George Kates, published by MIT Press (Cambridge, Mass.) in 1967; and John Blofeld’s City of Lingering Splendour, published by Shambhala (Boston) in 1989. 21  Flanagan, “Women in the City, Women of the City.” 22  Dorothy Ko notes that “the invention of an ahistorical Chinese tradition that is feudal, patriarchal, and oppressive was the result of a rare confluence of three divergent ideological

Introduction

9

women’s physical spaces in the city and the unconscious forces that shaped them, as well as the high price they too often paid to find meaning in their lives.23 The book argues that the growth of urban public spaces in early twentieth-century Beijing gave rise to women’s growing freedoms and the reshaping of women’s identities. Yet, the economic crisis at the same time also changed the ways poor women used and perceived urban public spaces. The fact that lower-class women used shared courtyards, neighborhood streets, temple fairs, theaters, brothels, and many other types of public space to develop their social networks, to find jobs, or to seek gratification indicates a tendency by poor women to transform public spaces into everyday spaces on their own terms. Despite the emergence of new gender power relations, reconfigured through elites’ discourse on women’s behavior and modernity and through police monitoring of women on the streets, women’s physical and social expansions in the city signify the shifting of boundaries between the inner and outer spheres and the inclusion of women in the overall urban transformation. The Significance of Public Spaces to Women As an alternative to the home, urban public spaces provide conditions for women’s subsistence and development. Space acquires meaning as people use, modify, or attribute symbolic value to specific settings.24 All sites or places are constructed through sets of complex, intersecting social relationships that are affected by beliefs, attitudes, images, and symbols.25 Thus, public spaces can be seen as social, not physical, territories. They are fields of interaction, reflecting the anonymous and impersonal world of the city as well as webs of social linkages.26 Public spaces are vital to society at the personal and political levels, offering sites of significant communication and serving as sources for news, information, and conversation. In William Whyte’s words, urban public spaces function as the “engine” and “the heart of the center of the city.”27 For women, urban public spaces create both a continuum for and an interruption of and political traditions: the May Fourth–New Culture Movement, the Communist revolution, and Western feminist scholarship” (Teachers of the Inner Chambers, 3). 23  Marie F. Bruneau reminds us that “to see women as mere victims is not inadequate; it is insufficient. To study women’s culture without questioning the values that contain it, and women’s desire without analyzing the unconscious forces that shape it, is also insufficient.” See Bruneau, “Learned and Literary Women in Late Imperial China and Early Modern Europe.” 24  Altman and Zube, Public Places and Spaces, 2. 25  McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 30. 26  Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities; Lofland, The Public Realm. 27  Whyte, City, 341.

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City of Working Women

domestic life, as well as a site for societal integration where they could meet men and women of different classes, ages, ethnic origins, and occupations, in addition to those who might be categorized as strangers, acquaintances, or less-known others. The streets of Beijing provided women with the opportunity to become immersed in a new set of social power relations beyond the predominant kinship and friendship ones. These public spaces were characterized by unequal gender relations; the streets traditionally belonged to men, often exclusively. The ability to lay claim to public spaces and the power to shape them were therefore crucial to women’s success in meeting their fundamental needs. Historically, Chinese women were associated with private homes, and men with the world at large. This division strengthened the differences in status and power between men and women. Daphne Spain argues that initial status differences between women and men create certain types of gendered spaces and that institutionalized spatial segregation then reinforces prevailing male advantages.28 The Confucian doctrine on the separation of the “inner” sphere from the “outer” (neiwai youbie) facilitated segregation in traditional China, though this represented a distinction that was more moral than physical. Scholars of women in late imperial China acknowledge the intimate connections between women’s domestic domain and the outside world, thereby rejecting the Western concept of separate spheres or spaces. They contend that “inner” and “outer” in Chinese contexts were relative and relational terms. Confucian gender separatism did not necessarily prevent women from leaving inner quarters; women built social networks through their writing, and their moral strength and productivity transformed the home into a cornerstone of the state.29 Yet, changing social boundaries and the expansion of women’s influence in China does not suggest that the seclusion of women as both an ideal and a social practice lost its vigor through the late Qing. Francesca Bray notes that, in late imperial China, all social classes considered the seclusion of women and the segregation of the sexes inside and outside the home essential to maintaining public morality.30 Although Chinese canonical texts such as the Book of Rites emphasize distinctions and differences more than hierarchy, dominance, or submission,31 women were generally characterized as disruptive of the social order, and the doctrine of separate spheres was used to justify their containment. The practice of Spain, Gendered Spaces, 6. Ebrey, The Inner Quarters; Ko, Teachers of the Inner Chambers, 13; Bray, Technology and Gender, 172; Mann, Precious Records, 15; Chang et al., Women Writers of Traditional China; and Widmer, “The Epistolary World of Female Talent in Seventeenth-Century China.” 30  Bray, Technology and Gender, 128. 31  Susan Mann, “Grooming a Daughter for Marriage: Brides and Wives in the Mid-Ch’ing Period,” in Watson and Ebrey, Marriage and Inequality in Chinese Society, 204–230. 28  29 

Introduction

11

gender distinctions, though varying in terms of class, ethnicity, and age, shaped women’s beliefs, conduct, and character. The home was viewed as “the spatial marking of distinctions within the family, including the seclusion of women.”32 This phenomenon in imperial China coincided with examples from many other cultures in which the spatial relations of male superiority and female inferiority were found.33 Because women were relegated to the domestic domain, their entry into public spaces became “problematic” for men. Territory outside the home was traditionally the domain of males, and women’s use of it, even temporarily, challenged male tolerance and pride. The sharing, borrowing, or appropriation of urban public spaces by women was thus considered an unorthodox transgression of gender boundaries and the violation of proper feminine values. The literary canon that developed over the centuries advised men of the threat women in public represented, not only to the reputation of the individual and household, but to the entire social order. Women from both the upper and lower classes were warned against going to temple fairs, crowded markets, and theaters, as well as traveling alone. The assumption that men served as gatekeepers and rescuers was symbolic of male command in the city. Opposition to women’s public presence in China paralleled a similar tradition during the nineteenth century in which moralists in both England and the United States viewed respectable women’s entry into urban public spaces as evidence of their unnatural and undesirable abandonment of their appropriate place.34 Today, feminist scholars who study Western urban women would use gender as one of the primary analytical categories to investigate issues of women in public spaces, though they admit that power relations are normally constructed by a combined force of gender, class, race, and other factors. Most of these scholars focus on the segregation of public spaces, gender and urban planning, the objectification of women, and safety issues. Since women are associated with the interior spheres of domesticity, feminist investigation of public spaces often emphasizes the problems and dangers that confront women in external domains compared with the assumption that men may take for granted their freedom in and dominance of these spaces. Many scholars share the beliefs that streets are gendered and sexualized, that men are more privileged than women to use public spaces, and that women experience fear and anxiety, as well as harassment and even physical danger, on streets and in other public

Bray, Technology and Gender, 53. Weisman, Discrimination by Design, 9. 34  Lofland, The Public Realm, 128. 32  33 

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City of Working Women

spaces.35 Other scholars praise the trend toward the emancipation of women and the ability of women to pursue new identities in urban settings. Researchers of American cities discovered that urban women more often have paid jobs, enjoy more opportunities to interact with others in public, and receive more stimulation and challenges from urban life than do their rural counterparts.36 The debate on women in urban public spaces thus generates additional questions for Chinese historians. If women belonged at home, and if they were not safe elsewhere, then why did they want to explore urban public spaces in the first place? How were unequal gender relations and the attached values between men and women constructed in public spaces? Could public spaces in Chinese cities be paradoxical for women who might also find escape, freedom, opportunities, and other benefits there? Did women of different classes view and use public spaces differently? How did the image of women in public spaces as wicked or fallen develop? Could women influence public spaces as public spaces influenced them? The contradictory nature of urban public spaces was exemplified by the reality of late Qing and early Republican Beijing. Even by the early twentieth century, the city’s public spaces were predominantly a male territory. Sexual segregation was profoundly rooted in society. Urbanization and market forces drew commoner women from their homes to workplaces, theaters, parks, cinemas, and streets, and those women experienced prejudice, segregation, sexual harassment, and other negative behaviors. Popular literature and the news media told of women who were victims of crimes in public spaces and encouraged the belief that ordinary women who mixed with men or fallen women in public risked losing their feminine virtues and self-esteem. However, the urban setting also provided women with opportunities. Hostility toward women’s public presence diminished, and women of different economic backgrounds were permitted to enter the public realm for various purposes. The city was a complex and fluid world where contradictory ideas coexisted, and men and women mingled. Cultural norms discouraged respectable women from visiting crowded public sites, yet family needs still legitimized women’s trips to marketplaces, temples, 35  Drucker and Gumpert, Voices in the Street; Scraton and Watson, “Gendered Cities”; Bondi and Domosh, “On the Contours of Public Space”; and McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 148–169. 36  Susan Saegert, “Masculine Cities and Feminine Suburbs: Polarized Ideas, Contradictory Realities,” in Stimpson et al., Women and the American City, 93–108; Gerda R. Wekerle, “Women in the Urban Environment,” in Stimpson et al., Women and the American City, 185–211; Wilson, The Sphinx in the City; and Lynn M. Applenton, “The Gender Regimes of American Cities,” in Garber and Turner, Gender in Urban Research, 44–59.

Introduction

13

scenic locations, or their parental homes. This contradiction is best illustrated by the fact that strong social prejudice inhibited activities involving the opposite sex in public, but men’s desire for pleasure was responsible for a flourishing entertainment industry that employed women in large numbers. Women didn’t constitute a homogenous category; while some were excluded at certain times and places, others were invariably included. Because women are categorized by class, ethnicity, occupation, age, and so on, they lack a common identity and universal urban experience. Their diverse, sometimes controversial, icons are created by male perceptions, an accumulation of impressions, or women’s own rich and distinctive personalities and experiences. Elizabeth Wilson shrewdly observes that “woman is present in cities as temptress, as whore, as fallen woman, as lesbian, but also as virtuous, womanhood in danger, as heroic womanhood who triumphs over temptation and tribulation.”37 The colorful representations of women underscore the complexity of women’s urban lives and our present difficulties in understanding them. This book attempts to view women in Beijing as a contingent that is stratified or interest-bound. Their outdoor activities were guided by their distinct beliefs, rituals, and needs, which varied according to context. Lower-class women of all types were generally regarded by elites as easy violators of the moral standard and therefore deserving of advice, rehabilitation, or criticism; in fact, these women sacrificed moral ideals for more pragmatic pursuits. In contrast, middle-class wives and daughters were considered examples of ideal womanhood through their conduct and patriotism. Women in Urban Transformation Another issue addressed in this book is the correlation between Beijing’s transformation with its changing boundaries and the identities of the women who lived there. Beijing at the beginning of the twentieth century was a city in transition. Imperial splendor, orthodox rules, and longstanding customs and rituals were in decline, but they still dictated the behaviors and attitudes of residents. Women were identified with marriage and family obligations and were discouraged from crossing gender and other social boundaries even as the urban transformation began to change not only the physical appearance of the city but also its administrative and political systems and its demographic configuration. Intimately associated with national politics, Republican Beijing witnessed the most tumultuous and dramatic of political dramas: the Hongxian monarchy in 1916, the rivalries of warlords and frequent overthrows of 37 

Wilson, The Sphinx in the City, 6.

City of Working Women

14

civilian government between 1917 and 1927, the May Fourth demonstration in 1919, and numerous labor-union strikes, student protests, and feminist campaigns. The city’s social, political, and physical transformation accelerated residents’ social and geographic mobility. The population was growing, old elites fell, new leaders assumed power, and peasant migrants poured into the city looking for jobs. The turmoil gave the capital an extremely active intellectual life that challenged Confucian norms and opened debate on such issues as family relations, marriage, the role of youth, and women’s rights. The clash and interplay of tradition and modernization further added to the complex and contradictory identities of Beijing women. When the age-old customs and values were still practiced, ordinary women participated in festivals, temple fairs, spring outings, and other outdoor rituals. Their traditional culture linked them to the past, provided them with guidelines for behavior outside the home, and generated a sense of pride and authenticity from which they could draw strength during the unpredictable and sweeping urban changes. The legacy that working-class daughters inherited from their mothers, however, encouraged them to seek new opportunities in public spaces. Political instability and economic crises forced laboring women to pursue honorable jobs as handicraft workers, rickshaw pullers, or maidservants, in addition to disgraceful jobs as entertainers and the “three aunts and six grannies” (discussed later). Working-class women built solidarity and solved their disputes on neighborhood streets. Other public places, such as parks, theaters, and markets, welcomed ordinary women as clients and visitors. The trend of women’s seeking work or entertainment outside the home provoked the revival of old moral values and social attitudes, which glorified women’s roles as domestic mothers and wives. In early twentieth-century Beijing, lower-class women were not mere spectators of the urban transformation—they were participants. The modern era presented women not only with challenges, misery, and sacrifice, but also with hope. Modern society altered but didn’t eliminate unequal power relations between men and women. Women faced new issues as old norms faded away and both freedoms and regulations increased. Feminist scholars give feminine phenomena, previously considered secondary or marginal, a central place of importance in the analysis of the process of modernity. Lisa Rofel argues that “gender differentiation—the knowledge, relations, meanings, and identities of masculinity and femininity—operates at the heart of modernity’s power.”38 Rita Felski recently outlined the ways in which women’s experience of modernity has been shaped by the consumer culture—the world of department stores and factories, 38 

Rofel, Other Modernities, 19.

Introduction

15

popular romances, and women’s magazines. Attending to the “everyday and the mundane,” Felski argues, gives us a “nuanced way of approaching the gender politics of cultural texts within the uneven histories of the modern.”39 Given the premodern nature of early Republican Beijing, new concepts, institutions, and trends began to redefine the parameters and expectations of traditional womanhood. Tensions between women in public and male authority increased, however. The reformist municipality and police intended to subjugate women even as they tried to educate and mobilize them. Exclusion of women from public spaces was replaced by segregation and regulation. From “virtuous wives and wise mothers,” to “mothers of citizens” (guominmu) and “female citizens” (nüguomin), nationalist elites modified the notion of womanhood by promoting a more educated, patriotic, and healthier female population, but also by controlling virtually every aspect of this development. Access to and use of public spaces involves issues of citizens’ rights and equal membership. Liberal theorists believe that every individual, as a member of the polity, has an equal right to the public arena, but feminists argue that this right is often denied in practice. Furthermore, rights often are bestowed only on those who are deemed deserving or capable of acting responsibly; others are denied full citizenship.40 Women might be excluded from public spaces because of either their behavior or their need to be protected. Thus, the view of women as dependent on men, both economically and morally, or as lesser beings that are fragile or in need of protection, impinges on their rights.41 The idea of women as “lesser beings” or as “transgressive” was promoted by Beijing policemen who viewed women as either “endangered” or “dangerous,” categories usually assigned based on social class or occupation. In either case, women risked their femininity if they appeared in public. Crusades to save women from the perils of the city and to save the city from immoral and dangerous women became a means by which the police and members of the elite class assigned circumscribed social boundaries along class and gender lines. Policing the city and providing moral guidance became the dominant issues. Controlling women’s access to the streets and the jobs found there would preserve public morality, scaring them with tales of violence would keep them at home and ensure the fulfillment of their feminine obligations, and the offering of charity programs would solve the problem of urban poverty and help make women contributors to the local and national economy. Felski, The Gender of Modernity, 28. Sandel, Democracy’s Discontent; Shklar, American Citizenship; and Young, Justice and the Politics of Difference. 41  Pateman, The Sexual Contract and The Disorder of Women. 39  40 

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City of Working Women

The restriction of women in modern China, however, was achieved neither through male consensus nor by official policies. In the West, the growth of capitalism stimulated the segregation of production and housework. The Western bourgeois society sustained two demarcated gender spheres: a public sphere where men engaged in political intrigue, business competition, and other struggles of everyday life, and a private sphere where women created peaceful and comfortable homes. Women were valued as the keepers of a dimension of human existence that was ignored in the domain of men: the emotional, intuitive, and caring.42 This ideology was in part aligned with the Confucian notion of gender distinction that in practice was flexible based on context, yet in theory was seen as contradictory to the development of modern China. From the late Qing reforms to the May Fourth Movement, the Chinese quest for modernization was realized in part through the women’s emancipation movement based on the rejection of such concepts as women’s seclusion, separate domains and roles for men and women, and gender inequality. In the West, implementation of the two gender spheres was a relatively recent phenomenon, an outcome of industrialization. In China, however, it had been a centuries-old practice that was just now coming under attack by the new intellectuals and feminists. To strengthen the nation’s political and economic power, the government and nationalist elites had to recognize and even encourage women to assume roles outside the home, even as they reaffirmed the traditional concepts of femininity. These controversial beliefs and intentions moderated official control of women and increased women’s ability to negotiate their access to public spaces. Yet, the phenomenon of women in public didn’t automatically lead to women’s acquisition of power and control. Middle-class women created safe places for work and travel but were subject to intense male scrutiny and criticism. When they ventured onto the streets and dealt with business affairs in public, they were considered to have abandoned their home duties and womanly virtues, putting their reputations in jeopardy. Their schools, clubs, and workshops were small islands in a vast sea of male domains. By contrast, lower-class women had more freedom in public and were driven by financial, not political, concerns. Just as prostitutes and actresses were not respected, “grannies,” female vendors, and other women who made a living on the street faced discrimination by the majority of Beijing residents. Women who made forays beyond the home, sometimes in defiance of city regulations, mainly did so in response to individual pursuits rather than organized actions. Historians must not

42  Lieteke Van V. Tijssen, “Women between Modernity and Postmodernity,” in Turner, Theories of Modernity and Postmodernity, 147–163.

Introduction

17

exaggerate the importance of public appearances as women’s sole means of empowerment. Women’s engagement in public spaces suggests a strong will to survive or create a better life, although their negotiation for the use of urban spaces was incompatible with conventional norms and expectations. Scholars have already revised the stereotype of Chinese women as submissive victims and have discovered the stories of various women who sought to escape patriarchal domination. Rubie Watson, for instance, asks whether, because “women created and maintained affinal networks, labor exchanges, festival associations, temple groups, girls’ houses, and religious movements,” while some became independent wage earners resistant to marriage, we should discard the notion of the frightened little younger sister, pawned daughter, and cowed wife.43 Looking through a cautious lens, we can find instances of agency and resistance, which most often were informal and embedded in everyday life. Young girls challenged gender segregation at theaters. Female rickshaw pullers took jobs that historically had belonged to men only, challenging the artificial division of labor. Housewives who publicly confronted their abusive mothers-in-law brought into question the pattern of household of families. Resistance by lower-class women transcended gender lines to also address issues of class, competition for resources, jealousy from peers, personal defense, and many others that likely were manifested in an indirect, apolitical, and less conspicuous fashion.44 Of course, an analysis of this movement will not lead to “the romance of resistance.”45 Most women sought merely to improve, rather than abolish, the system. “It is important,” as Hershatter notes, “that we recognize instances of women’s agency, resist the desire to magnify or romanticize them, and admit that, finally, our readings of them are limited by the many silences and irreducible ambiguities in the historical record.”46 Sources and Structure This study relies on a broad range of unexplored source materials, including government archives, newspapers and journals, travelers’ accounts, personal memoirs, local gazettes, sociological investigations, and books on Beijing’s geography, history, popular culture, religion, economic 43  Rubie S. Watson, “Girls’ Houses, and Working Women: Expressive Culture in the Pearl River Delta, 1900–41,” in Jaschok and Miers, Women and Chinese Patriarchy, 40. 44  A showcase of laboring women’s spontaneous resistance was the delayed marriage practiced by silk women in the Canton area during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. See Stockard, Daughters of the Canton Delta. 45  Abu-Lughod, “The Romance of Resistance.” 46  Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 28.

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City of Working Women

life, and related topics. Because ordinary women lacked the literacy skills and resources necessary to record their thoughts and life journeys, their activities were documented mainly by male elites—people other than themselves. There is no way to know what these women thought and felt beyond an analysis of their daily activities. Middle-class women, as members of a privileged group, were sometimes able to advise lowerclass women on their behavior or moral obligations. These dialogues reveal feminist or reformist positions on many women’s issues. The literature written by middle-class women ended women’s historical silence and opened up an intellectual approach to women in an urban setting. The few specific lower-class women who are described in this book are known to us today mainly through interviews with scholars, a courtesan’s memo, and random conversations. We lack sufficient primary sources to piece together definitive accounts, but through these secondary sources we know that these women spoke out against poverty and abuse and discussed strategies for work, friendship, social skills, and fighting oppression. This book can draw a rough picture of women’s increasing use of public spaces in the shifting urban environment and the attendant politics, but it contributes less regarding these women’s attitudes and feelings. Some source materials go beyond the scope of women and public spaces and give us a glimpse into their harsh lives overall. The first chapter describes women in a city dominated by masculine culture and the subjugation of women and reveals, through the use of street names, slang, and ballads, the construction of Chinese femininity and gender relations. Despite modern reforms and the rise of the feminist movement, the underprivileged position of most working-class women changed slowly from the Qing to the Republican period. Chapters 2 and 3 describe efforts by lower-class women to make a living in their neighborhoods and what these neighborhoods were like. As the economy plummeted, women supported themselves through selling handicrafts, providing domestic services and spiritual and medical advice, menial labor, and begging. The physical infrastructure provided by courtyards and neighborhood streets formed a crucial site for conflict resolution, mediation, and friendships. The fourth chapter recounts women’s leisure activities. Evidence shows how women negotiated their seclusion and the borrowing of urban public spaces for pleasure during the late imperial dynasties. The chapter also describes the substantial growth of leisure pursuits in Beijing through new parks, theaters, cinemas, and a zoo, and the impact of such pursuits on ordinary women. Chapter 5 is an intensive case study of stage actresses who became both angelic and demonic icons of lower-class women, and their controversial fates as tools for nation building and as sexual commodities. Chapter 6 is an investigation of prostitution. Brothels constituted

Introduction

19

a workplace where sex workers created business and social relations as well as a women-centered culture. Though upper-class call girls enjoyed better working conditions and greater autonomy than their lower-class sisters, both sought to have control over their lives and maximize profits. The last chapter is a study of the role of the police in the state’s effort to uphold womanly virtues. Police campaigns to rescue women in danger and restrict dangerous women signified the patriarchal regimentation of women during the modern transformation.

Figure 1: Map of Beijing in the Qing dynasty.

ONE

Women in the City

As the imperial capital of the Yuan (1279–1368), Ming (1368–1644), and Qing dynasties, Beijing imposed a gender-based regime through its political, administrative, and ceremonial functions. An urban gender regime is imposed via the prevailing ideologies of how men and women should act, think, and feel; their access to social positions; their control of resources; and the relationships between them.1 The city’s social order sought to embody the harmony of cosmic forces, while various temples— those dedicated to ancestors, heaven, agriculture, the soil and grain, the Sun, the Moon, and the Earth—facilitated cults devoted to the patriarchal ideal and the supernatural powers from which the ruler received his political legitimacy. The imperial capital was a sacred place woven by the warp of a cosmic/astral system of symbols that identified the city as the center of the world and the weft of a system of shared beliefs in gods, spirits, and heroes.2 Thus, the emperor performed his duty as the son of heaven and presented a system of leadership to the male-dominated society. He commanded the army, conducted imperial ceremonies, and oversaw the administrative bureaucracy. The city’s walls and gates epitomized a mechanism of control beyond their basic protective function: the opening and closing of the gates provided a strict regulation of travelers’ movements and a checkpoint for identifying and detaining criminals and runaway women. The Forbidden City, located in the southeast of the Imperial City, was home to what was probably the largest patriarchal family in China. The emperor, surrounded by a significant number of consorts, eunuchs, and children, exercised absolute authority over the family hierarchy, including women’s duties and children’s education. The emperor and empress were considered role models for all Chinese families, who also learned about social norms and the role of virtue from the Confucian 1  Lynn M. Applenton, “The Gender Regimes of American Cities,” in Garber and Turner, Gender in Urban Research. 2  Meyer, The Dragons of Tiananmen, 6.

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City of Working Women

canon, regional operas, popular novels, and even the interpretation of imperial decrees by bureaucrats and local elites. The Imperial City that enclosed the Forbidden City was home to government offices, aristocrats, and high officials. It was in turn protected by a square Inner City where the Manchu population congregated during the Qing dynasty. Sharing the south wall of the Inner City was the rectangular Outer City, built in the mid-sixteenth century, which enveloped a prosperous commercial center in the northeast, a wealthy residential quarter for bureaucrats in the northwest, and an area of forbidden land, swamps, and lakes in the south. The Manchus’ policy of ethnic partition adopted in the seventeenth century led to the development of the Outer City into a Han settlement that segregated the Manchu people from their Han neighbors. Ethnic separatism, plus the hierarchical arrangement of spaces, differentiated urban dwellers by class and ethnicity. Women, with their fathers, husbands, and brothers, lived in areas that were neither homogenous nor well-connected beyond their immediate neighborhoods. The places where offices and shops were predominant were exclusive to the female population, which was mostly concentrated in residential areas. How did gender-based customs shape the city’s symbols and popular beliefs? What position did women acquire in this conservative urban community? How did women enter the new, modern world? This chapter starts with a discussion of women’s influences, images, and family relations represented in street names, slang, and ballads. Subsequently, it sketches modern developments and an emancipation that involved a portion of middle-class daughters while emphasizing the deteriorating living conditions of lower-class women in the city. Backed by evidence from sociological investigations, the chapter reveals how the political transformation and economic problems took their toll on lower-class women. Women’s Domesticity The Confucian ideology of two separate gender spheres relegated women to feminine duties and physical seclusion in their homes. The Book of Rites addressed the significance of separating women from men and the necessity of avoidance of physical contact between the sexes. Song (960– 1279) scholars specified extreme protocols of sexual segregation, prohibiting contact even between a father and daughter or brother and sister. The concept of sexual segregation extended to include the differentiation of functions and behaviors. Women and men were assigned different tasks and were required to stay in different spheres without contact or

Women in the City

23

intrusions.3 Through the Ming and Qing dynasties, the notion of female chastity prevailed, and the state rewarded women who exemplified the ideals of loyalty to their husbands and physical isolation. Qing rulers opposed female suicide for pragmatic reasons, yet they applied male elites’ sense of honor toward women’s moral conduct and diligent work, as well as their roles in managing the household and educating children.4 However, the Confucian teaching of inner and outer spheres and women’s domestic roles existed as an ideal that was not found in everyday life. The economic and social trends that nurtured humanitarian concerns about women and gender relations during the Ming and Qing periods provided women various opportunities to navigate between the two spheres. The elites’ debate since the Ming dynasty on women’s remarriage, suicide, education, and spousal relationships modified the orthodox ideology of gender distinctions and created ambiguity in the attitudes of the state and male elites toward women.5 The principle of gender spheres shaped Beijing’s social history and infused its streets with gender meanings. The city was a grid of northto-south and east-to-west avenues linked to more than two thousand streets and alleyways, an infrastructure that helped regulate neighborhoods. The road names were derived mainly from the shapes of streets, signposts, celebrities, guilds, and so forth. Many streets and alleyways were named after heroes who had once lived there. For centuries, men were allowed to serve as bureaucrats, generals, merchants, and craftsmen and thus permanently influenced local landmarks and the public sphere. Women, by contrast, were homebound, and their contributions were rarely recognized. The few streets named for women usually reflected their namesakes’ special experiences. For instance, Prime Minister Wen’s Alley (Wen Chengxiang hutong) was where the Southern Song (1127–1279) hero Wen Tianxiang had been jailed. Wen led a resistance against the Mongol invaders and remained loyal to the Song emperor even after being captured and threatened with death. Majesty Shi’s Alley (Shi Daren hutong) in the southeast of the Inner City was named after the Ming general Shi Heng, who had assisted Yu Qian in the defense of the city during the Mongol raids. Other streets were associated with powerful imperial household members, such as Emperor’s Son-in-law Shi’s Alley (Shi Fuma hutong) and Imperial Relative Zhang’s Alley (Zhang Huangqin hutong). Scholars who placed first in the civil service examinations were also commemorated, including the Ebrey, The Inner Quarters, 23–27. Mann, Precious Records, 23–29. 5  Mann, Precious Records, 23–29; Ko, Teachers of the Inner Chambers; and Bray, Technology and Gender. 3  4 

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City of Working Women

Mongol bannerman Ma Leji, who placed first in the jinshi examination under the Shunzhi reign (1644–1661). The street where he lived was renamed Scholarly Champion Ma’s Alley (Ma Zhuangyuan hutong). Many alleyways were named after the guilds that had existed there for generations such as Yaojiang Native Place Lodge Alley (Yaojiang guan jiadao) and Liyang Native Place Lodge Alley (Liyang guan jiadao).6 To a much lesser degree, streets were named for women. Women spent most of their time in courtyards and alleyways, but their domestic contributions were not considered memorable. Only those who were engaged in unique trades had streets named after them. One example is Midwife Shi. Her renowned skill and service earned such high praise that her neighbors named the street where she practiced her profession after her: Old Lady Shi’s Alley (Shi Laoliang hutong). Another street in the southeastern Inner City, where the Ming court recruited wet nurses for the newborns in the imperial household, was called the Residence of Wet Nurses (Naizifu). In addition, Theatrical Alley (Goulan hutong) in the northeast of the Inner City had a bad reputation during the Yuan, Ming, and early Qing eras for hosting actresses who worshipped their guild’s patron god at the site. The Big Eight Alleys (Bada hutong) outside Qian Gate contained a notorious red-light district where the most expensive brothels were found during the late Qing and early Republican periods.7 That street names were associated with women partially illustrates the public influence of women who were engaged in unusual occupations. Female professionals or entertainers, however, violated the prevailing norms of femininity, so their influence on urban landmarks was mostly negative. By local standards, men glorified some urban sites with their extraordinary accomplishments or special services, whereas women disgraced others through moral violations or unusual work. Urban spaces were thereby labeled, defined, and socially contracted based on gender roles. If street names exemplified women’s limited influence on the city’s social geography, local slang further molded the image of women as domestic, weak, and ignorant. For instance, a man would introduce his wife as an “internal person” (tangke). The husband was known as an “official person” (guanke) because he took charge of external business. A widow, considered incomplete and unfortunate, was called a “half person” (banbian ren).8 Further, people compared a person of lesser intelligence to “a 6  Wong Li, Beijing de hutong, 90–100; Zhang Qingchang, Beijing jiexiang mingcheng shihua, 316. 7  Wong Li, Beijing de hutong, 100, 121–122, 130–131; Chen Zongpan, Yandu congkao, 191– 192, 219–220. 8  Qi Rushan, Beijing tuhua, 18, 53.

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bride of twelve-to-thirteen years old—muddleheaded” (shiersan zuo xifu, huer badu shenmo ye budong).9 The slang words, jokes, and metaphors that pervaded the Beijing vernacular relentlessly teased and mocked women, thus proving women’s inferior status and isolation. In addition, folk songs and children’s songs associated women with inner space and traditionally feminine duties. These ballads, handed down for centuries, portrayed women as immutably bound to marriage, domestic service, and motherhood, confirming the notion that, in China, social gender overshadowed sexuality in the definition of male and female; men and women were social, not natural, creations.10 The songs were about women who longed for happy marriages, complained about their fates, or encountered abuse and violence. In the social relations described by folk songs, women overall occupied a disadvantaged and passive position. Ballads often implied that a young girl’s well-being and social status would be determined by her marriage. The prospective husband would be responsible for her livelihood as the center of the family. A popular saying conveyed the belief that women were motivated to marry for pragmatic and materialistic reasons, not because of romantic love: Marry a man, marry a man, and wear gold and silver; Marry a husband, marry a husband, and put on clothes and eat food.11

The saying conveys the wife’s dependent role and the husband’s economic role as natural and fixed. Women, depicted as greedy and demanding, based their happiness and security on successful marriages. Arranged marriages often brought about poor matches that were keenly disappointing to brides. Women who married child husbands complained about their misfortunes and the lack of marital companionship. A song tells about a seventeen-year-old girl who is unsatisfied with her ten-year-old groom: “One day she went to a well to draw water. One end was high and the other was low. [She said] if I did not consider that my father- and mother-in-law treated me kindly, I would push you into the well.”12 Some women preferred to stay single rather than endure a loveless marriage. At least a couple of ballads expressed women’s resistance to 9  Bi Shutang, “Beiping huali de biyu” [Metaphors in the Beiping language], in Jiang Deming, Beijing hu, 2:490–496. 10  Barlow, The Question of Women in Chinese Feminism, 37–63; Furth, “Androgynous Males and Deficient Females”; and Xiaojiang Li, “With What Discourse Do We Reflect on Chinese Women? Thoughts on Transnational China,” in Yang, Spaces of Their Own, 261–277. 11  Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 2:404. 12  Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 1:168.

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marriage. One is about a girl who wants to devote herself to the life of a Buddhist nun. The ballad elaborates on her motivation: A woman in the monastic life lives very happily indeed: First, they do not suffer the vexations of father- and mother-in-law; Second, they do not suffer a husband’s mistreatment; Third, they do not bear children; And fourth, they live freely in blissful peace.13

For these women, religion represented less a faith and more a means of escape. Monastic living in a pious community was a substitute for a depressing family life. In traditional Beijing, parents-in-law took the servitude of their daughters-in-law for granted, gaining compliance by force if necessary. Domestic violence and ill-treatment of young brides was therefore a common theme in folk songs. One ballad describes a clever woman who can cook noodles that look like “petals of the lotus blossom.” Yet, her parentsin-law force her to sleep in the stove pit with a dog’s hide as a cover. When they are irritated, “the father-in-law takes in his hands a pile of bricks, the mother-in-law holds in her hands a row of whips, and they beat the wife until she runs away as quickly as a stream of smoke.”14 Some husbands sided with their wives against their domineering mothers, behavior that ran counter to the norm and was ridiculed in folk songs. One ballad condemns the amoral inclination of a man who “is not loyal to his mother, but only loves his wife.” He ignores his mother’s desire for bread but buys a basket of pears to satisfy his wife. He even calls out, “My dear wife, my dear wife, eat them quickly, lest the old woman [his mother] should come and blame you.”15 Chinese oral literature perpetuated the values of family hierarchies and filial piety. Wives were not supposed to steal the affection of their husbands from their parents-inlaw. Men who took care of their wives but neglected their parents faced public indignation and became the subjects of mockery in folk songs. Men were entitled to all kinds of amusements while women were required to be frugal, diligent, and dedicated to housework. Folk songs mocked wives who did not meet expectations or were involved in undesirable hobbies or unfeminine behavior. The song “Lord Moon Is Bright” describes the tragic experience of a man who married a bad wife: “She has a smoking pipe in her mouth and holds eight cards in her hand. If she

Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 1:4. Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 1:10. 15  Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 1:16. 13  14 

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wins, she buys flowers to wear; if she loses money, she becomes angry.”16 A female gambler is obviously unable to run a home well. The oral literature in Beijing provides a record of the duties and expectations of women in the family and society. The ballads construct negative stereotypes of those who deviate from expectations. Some folk songs and children’s songs were probably created by wives and mothers as a way of conveying their hopes, suffering, and grievances. Other songs censured women’s transgressions or described feminine interests and character. The ballads assigned women to a domestic domain where marriage, serving in-laws, conjugal relationships, child rearing, and doing household chores made up the core of women’s lives. Yet, some songs underscored contradictory intentions that were most likely indicative of the everyday lives of ordinary urbanites whose attitudes and behavior hardly corresponded to the criteria of the elites. Women and Modern Change Between 1901 and 1928, women naturally had different perspectives on the dynamic urban transformation taking place. Some educated upperand middle-class daughters understood and appreciated the urban reforms and sought benefits from them, while fallen Manchu families complained about the arrival of the Republican era as their daughters were forced to take working-class or disreputable jobs. Ordinary laboring-class women, however, had no regret about the collapse of the Qing dynasty or the coming of the new age. The impact of reforms was peripheral to them, and urban reconstruction touched their lives only superficially. In the last decade of the Qing dynasty, Beijing residents were curious about the appearance of streetlights, motor vehicles, train lines, postboxes, telephone and telegraph lines, and running water. Just as these modern inventions added convenience to their lives, so were their intellectual lives broadened by schools, government offices, and the news media. The pace of change accelerated during the Republican period, when the Municipal Council, founded in 1914, sought to reorganize the city’s physical layout: roads were repaired, widened, and added; city walls were torn down; parks were opened; streetcars were introduced; vehicles were regulated; and streets and alleyways were renamed. The novelty that new technologies and infrastructures added was soon tempered by increased bureaucracy and interruptions to daily life. As the government took control of private land and forced people to accept its plans, the local population rose up in protest.17 16  17 

Zhuang, Folksongs and Children-Songs from Peiping, 2:212. Dong, Republican Beijing, 21–77; Shi Mingzheng, Zouxiang jindaihua de Beijing cheng.

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The urban transformation was affected by several factors: as an inland city, Beijing didn’t have the advantages of coastal treaty ports; foreigners went to the city not for business purposes but for political and diplomatic interests; modern industry was minimal, and traditional crafts and trades were the predominant economic forces; the death of the imperial system caused the collapse of many wealthy families; and the move of the national capital in 1928 further reduced the city’s importance and revenue. Beijing after the Nationalist reunification of 1928 lapsed into a city of only regional importance as its old privileges slipped away. The discrepancies between the cityscapes of Shanghai and Beijing were obvious. Shanghai was a city of two worlds: the modernized International Settlement and the French Concession enjoyed by foreigners and wealthy Chinese, with banks, hotels, high-rise apartments, department stores, coffeehouses, dance halls, public parks, and race clubs, and the areas of linong (alley compounds), where petty urbanites dwelled in rows of drab two- or three-story houses with tiny front yards and a main gate enclosing a compound with narrow alleys.18 Beijing, however, was majestic. A decade after the Revolution of 1911, the city’s infrastructure and way of life were still largely intact. The last emperor lived in the Forbidden City through 1924. Its walls were damaged by transportation projects, but its final destruction would not take place until the 1950s. Palaces, imperial gardens, and temples were in use or renovated into public places, yet their physical look remained the same. Modern life unfolded in a traditional environment. There were no large-scale modern sectors in the city or its outskirts. The foreign legation quarter, Western-style hotels, restaurants, train stations, amusement parks, and office buildings were scattered within the city walls and faced a sea of imperial architecture and one-story, courtyard residences. While a small number of elites were obsessed by ballroom dancing, concerts, and Western sports, the majority of townspeople still preferred the Peking Opera, storytelling, drum-singing, or simply chatting with friends in a teahouse. Beijing in the 1920s “preserved the past, accommodated the present, and nurtured the basic elements of several possible futures.”19 Only a small group of elite daughters cared more about the elevation of women’s status than about the city’s reconstruction. The publications of the 1898 reformers and the issuance of the New Policies persuaded some daughters of Manchu and Han bureaucrats that an increase in women’s literacy rates and the abolition of oppressive customs would strengthen not only women’s potential to serve the nation but women as a whole as well. A band of Manchu princesses and Han bureaucratic 18  19 

Lee, Shanghai Modern, 3–42. Strand, Rickshaw Beijing, 7.

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wives and daughters gathered to discuss national issues and, encouraged by Empress Dowager Cixi’s support for the education of women, turned their courtyards into girls’ schools after the Boxer Protocol was signed in 1901.20 Several women’s societies with nationalist, feminist, or philanthropic agendas were established between 1903 and 1911, and the Beijing Women’s Daily (Beijing nübao) started its moderate reform dialogues in 1905.21 The flamboyant but short-lived women’s suffrage movement active between 1912 and 1914 was a national phenomenon that failed to attract a large number of local followers.22 Feminist leaders traveled to Beijing during the early Republican years to establish women’s societies or promote social reforms with local teachers and students, and their anecdotes on romance or legal concerns were reported in local newspapers. The United Association of Girls’ Schools in Beijing (Beijing nüxuejie lianhehui), founded in 1919, even mobilized six hundred female students to participate in a Tiananmen Square demonstration to rescue those arrested after the May Fourth Incident, when thousands of students gathered at Tiananmen Square to protest the Japanese takeover of Shandong Province from the Germans after World War I.23 The women’s suffrage campaign revived during the 1920s. Many feminist groups focused on equal rights in education, employment, property ownership and inheritance, suffrage, and marriage.24 Newly educated, middle-class daughters abandoned the teaching of women’s seclusion and cultivated their skills through participation in politics and the nationalist movement. They used urban public spaces as their political arena and learned the tactics of demonstration: organizing marches, waving flags, yelling slogans, and singing songs. Such terms as “liberty,” “rights,” and “individuality” entered their everyday vocabulary as slogans, and the progress they made in education, employment, and political engagement was a great step toward women’s emancipation. Nevertheless, the outcome of this revival of interest in women’s rights was discouraging. At the same time, middle-class women began adopting Western concepts and culture. From the late Qing, pianos, clocks, furniture, 20 Conger, Letters from China, 217–223, 263–264; De, Two Years in the Forbidden City, 101– 103; and Burton, The Education of Women in China, 114–115. For late Qing educational reform and girls’ schools, also see Borthwick, Education and Social Change in China; Cleverley, The Schooling of China. 21  Chang, “Women—A New Social Force.” For late Qing and early Republican women’s clubs and periodicals, see Beahan, “The Women’s Movement and Nationalism in Late Ch’ing China”; Tan Sheying, Zhongguo funü yundong tong shi; and Britton, The Chinese Periodical Press, 1800–1912. 22 Ono, Chinese Women in a Century of Revolution, 1850–1950, 80–89. 23  Chenbao, 5, 6 June 1919. 24  Chenbao, 1, 4 August 1922; Minguo ribao, 5 May 1924.

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telephones, and fashion imported from Western countries became prized possessions of Manchu princesses and the daughters of bureaucrats. Young women began to pursue romantic love and meet their boyfriends in parks or modern hotels. Schoolgirls sported bobbed hair, white shirts, and black skirts, while bourgeois ladies and modern young women preferred ironed hair, high-heeled shoes, and fashionable dresses from Shanghai or Europe. The qipao, a tight-fitting long dress with side slits that exposed the wearer’s legs, became a hit in the 1920s and 1930s, reflecting the national ideology that physically well developed and immaculately dressed Chinese women could save the nation.25 Western-style marriages, in which spouses chose each other through courtship and romantic love, became more common in new elite families. Wedding ceremonies featured the reading of the marriage certificate, the exchange of rings or gifts by the bride and groom, speeches by guests, photography, and the singing of the “Song of Civilized Marriage.”26 When marriages fell apart, couples rushed to divorce court.27 The influence of feminism and the zeal for Western culture, however, rarely reached the majority of lower-class women, who struggled with everyday life. Yet, the benefits of going to school, marrying for love, supporting oneself, and speaking in public were obvious and appealing. Working-class wives and daughters sought to emulate the middle-class women they saw organizing demonstrations and fund-raising drives, giving speeches, and socializing with men, all while wearing the latest fashions.28 Among the limited opportunities for interactions between elite and working-class women were fund-raising drives, campaigns against foot binding, and vocational schools that underscored the theme of nationalist salvation. During the late Qing, both middle-class and lower-class women were engaged in fund-raising campaigns to ease national shortages. Inspired by a picture sale of the Chinese Women’s Association (Zhongguo furenhui) in 1907,29 courtesans citywide sponsored a large-scale charity performance to raise money for famine refugees in south China.30 In addition, teachers Wang Xiangya and Yu Fengying founded the Beijing Natural Foot Society (Beijing tianzuhui) on 29 July 1913 to oppose the custom of foot binding still widely practiced by ordinary women in the city.31 The best example of the elite women’s efforts to reach lower-class Finnane, “What Should Chinese Women Wear?” Shengjing shibao, 19 March 1913; Li Jingwu, Beiping fengtu zhi, 35; and Xing Long, “Qingmo minchu hunyin shenghuo zhongde xinchao.” 27  Levy, The Family Revolution in Modern China. 28  For more on changing women’s lifestyles and social values during the late Qing and early Republican periods, read Luo Suwen, Nüxing yu jindai Zhongguo shehui. 29  Shuntian shibao, 19, 21 February, 1 March 1907; Dagong bao, 20 February 1907. 30  Shuntian shibao, 13 March 1907. 31 Yin Jianxin, “Beijing tianzuhui” [Beijing Natural Foot Society], in Liu Ningyuan, Ma 25  26

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women, however, was the establishment of vocational schools. In 1913, feminist Wu Shufen founded the Women’s Industrial School (Nüzi shiye xuexiao) to enrich the country and to overcome women’s dependency on men. She recruited forty girls from lower-class families and trained them to be experts in sericulture.32 During the May Fourth era, female reformers and feminist clubs established additional vocational programs to lift urban women from poverty. The United Association of Girls’ Schools in Beijing sponsored a women’s vocational school to overcome the problem of women’s unemployment and poverty that they diagnosed as the origin of China’s weakness and humiliation. The sixty working-class daughters who registered for the program learned how to sew socks, towels, and clothes.33 Elite women, however, had only marginal influence on the majority of laboring-class women in the city. Their reformist programs were usually poorly funded and short-lived, while their nationalist or feminist rhetoric affected only a very small number of women. Modernization divided urban women as they perceived and responded to new issues and opportunities in different ways. The elite women’s disapproval of lowerclass women’s occupations, such as theatrical performance, prostitution, or midwife service, and their criticism of ordinary women’s traditional customs and pleasure-seeking tendencies alienated them from the majority of their counterparts. Lower-class women instead developed their own approaches to these new challenges, destroying barriers that separated their homes from public spaces through work, entertainment, and other daily activities. The Working-Class Life As a political capital and a center of consumption, Beijing lagged behind the treaty port cities in developing modern industry. Shanghai, one of the first generation of treaty port cities, for instance, was a center for foreign trade during the second half of the nineteenth century. Yet, foreigners and the Self-Strengthening Movement leader Li Hongzhang introduced the silk industry in 1862 and the cotton industry in 1888 to Shanghai. The Treaty of Shimonoseki, signed between China and Japan in 1895 after China’s defeat Chentong, and Chen Ji, Beijing de shetuan, 29–30. For the anti–foot binding movement during this period, see Drucker, “The Role of the YMCA in the Development of the Chinese Women’s Movement, 1890–1927.” 32  “Nüzi shiye xuexiao jianzhang” [Brief regulations of the Women’s Industrial School] and “Zhuidao shiyejia Wu Shufen nüshi gongqi” [Announcement for mourning the industrialist Mrs. Wu Shufen], in Beipingshi jiaoyu jiu dangan, zhongxe jiaoyu lei [Archives of the Education Bureau, Beiping Municipality, middle schools], J 4:2:37, kept in the Beijing Municipal Archive. 33  Wang Huimin, “Beijing nüxuejie lianhehui” [Beijing Girls’ Schools Association], in Liu Ningyuan, Ma Chentong, and Chen Ji, Beijing de shetuan, 54–65.

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in the Sino-Japanese War, granted foreigners the right to build factories in treaty ports; in the ensuing industrial wave, the British, Germans, Americans, and Japanese opened various mills in the city. Chinese entrepreneurs joined this industrial race and after World War I built several sizable cotton mills. The capitalists’ efforts made Shanghai the largest industrial center in China, with growth in cotton spinning and weaving, silk reeling, tobacco, printing, machinery, shipbuilding, glassmaking, bleaching and dyeing, matchmaking, flour, oil, metallurgy, papermaking, and soap making. The city had industrial districts and shantytowns where factory workers and manual laborers resided. The industrial workforce reached 285,700 in 1929. Women, mainly employed in textile factories, made up 61 percent of the workforce, while male workers and children were 30 percent and 9 percent, respectively.34 Factory jobs offering subsistence wages drew young women from the Jiangnan and Subei regions as well as Shanghai, despite brutal working conditions. Tianjin was more similar to Beijing than Shanghai in terms of economic development. Tianjin became a treaty port later than Shanghai and was an important trading center in north China by the early twentieth century. The city was the headquarters of Li Hongzhang, developer in the 1870s of Kaiping Mines, a shipyard at Dagu, a telegraph bureau, a mint, and a railroad. Westerners, Japanese, and Chinese established many trading firms and ancillary services in the city to profit from international trade. Warlords, bureaucrats, and compradors financed by foreign banks invested in several industries, including cotton and wool spinning, flour milling, and matchmaking. Before World War II, businesses in the modern industrial sector were still vastly outnumbered by tiny workshops, and almost all of the industrial establishments were products of the treaty port era. Rural peasants from Hebei Province and poor people in the city found a variety of economic opportunities created by the dual economic structure. Compared with that in Shanghai, the factory workforce in Tianjin was smaller, and women made up a much lower percentage. Most female laborers were employed by factory owners or shop managers to work at home to glue matchboxes, spin wool, make wreaths, weave mats, or sew military uniforms.35 Without the advantages of a treaty port, Beijing developed a modern economy at a much slower pace than Tianjin. The loss of the administrative privileges the city enjoyed when it served as the imperial capital forced it Honig, Sisters and Strangers, 24–25. Hershatter, The Workers of Tianjin, 1900–1949, 25–81. According to Hershatter, 47,519 workers were hired by the industrial and handicraft sectors in 1929. Women made up only 1,543, or 9.14%, of the cotton mill workforce in 1929, or 13.24% if female children workers are included. This percentage dramatically increased when the Japanese took over those plants in the 1930s. See Hershatter, The Workers of Tianjin, 1900–1949, 45, 56. 34  35 

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to compete with other cities in the market system. By the early twentieth century, Tianjin had replaced Beijing as the primary industrial and trading center in north China, and, as a city dominated by foreigners and closer to the ocean, it drained capital, resources, and economic projects from Beijing while selling or transporting goods to the latter. Beijing developed a number of specialty products for overseas markets, produced mostly in small-scale handicraft shops. The city that previously imported goods for consumption began to produce daily necessities, including textiles, books, fur, leather, clothes, shoes, hats, food, soap, matches, glass, paper, and so forth, but it still relied on a variety of imported goods sold by British, German, and Japanese companies. Parallel with the prosperous handicraft production was a recycling industry that involved the majority of Beijing residents as producers, clients, or traders. The city became integrated with the world industrial economic system as a market of imported merchandise and producer of handicrafts.36 During the early Republican years, the city struggled with industrial growth. By 1919, its modern industrial sector included only a telephone company, electric-light company, water company, match factory, glass factory, and government uniform factory.37 By 1929, the city had only 145 factories and 7,045 workers, representing textile, machine-making, chemistry, food-processing, and other industries.38 Most workers, however, sought employment in handicraft shops or the service industry. By the early twentieth century, the predominant crafts were in porcelain, jade, and lacquer ware; ivory carving; carpet making; garment sewing; and silk dyeing. Construction employed more than one hundred thousand laborers, and men also worked in guilds for restaurants, teashops, grain stores, and meat shops, and as rickshaw pullers, none of which hired female workers. The age-old regulations of business apprenticeships allowed craftsmen and shop owners to recruit boys only. Any women workers were generally the spouses, children, or relatives of the men who worked there.39 The lack of economic opportunities for women in Beijing and the prejudice against women workers kept immigration by women to a minimum and resulted in a significant sexual imbalance in the city,40 but many women Dong, Republican Beijing, 105–141. Gamble, Peking, 219. 38 Yuan Xi, Jindai Beijing de shimin shenghuo, 18–19. 39  Gamble, Peking, 327. 40  Sidney Gamble identified an astonishing gender gap in the 1917 census: of a total population of 811,556 in Beijing, 525,535 were male and 296,021 were female, providing a ratio of 174:100. He cited the most likely reasons: students, government officials, and factory workers moved to the city without bringing their families because of the Chinese custom of wives staying at home to serve their parents-in-law and the pervasive social prejudice against women’s traveling and holding jobs. See Gamble, Peking, 99–102. 36  37 

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nevertheless followed their families to this land of promise. Demographic statistics show rapid population growth during the early twentieth century. Between 1647 and 1911, the combined population of the Inner and Outer Cities increased from 539,000 to 785,442.41 This slow growth was caused by the government’s relocation of Manchu residents from Beijing to other areas and by the exclusion of provincial refugees from the city. These policies changed after the eighteenth century, when the court gradually relaxed its control of the itinerant population and allowed refugees and immigrants from other provinces to settle in the Outer City. According to police records, the urban population increased from 725,135 in 1912 to 872,576 in 1924 and included a large number of new immigrants.42 People went to Beijing for a variety of reasons: to work for the government, go to school, do business, find an occupation, marry, beg, and so on. Men always outnumbered women in the waves of immigration. When wives and daughters arrived, they were dismayed to find that most shops and factories were closed to them. Employers eventually discouraged their workers from bringing their wives to the city, afraid of the responsibility of taking care of dependents or having distracted or overburdened employees.43 The few women who found factory jobs were considered fortunate. American sociologist Sidney Gamble noted that in 1918 the only factory hiring a large number of female workers was the government-sponsored uniform factory, where five thousand young women sewed uniforms by hand and were paid by the piece.44 A 1933 survey further confirmed the limited employment of women in the industrial sector. In 63 Beijing factories, there were 1,860 male workers and only 18 females.45 Apart from the economic underdevelopment, the city also suffered from a crisis that brought about tremendous poverty and instability to the local population. The Revolution of 1911 ravaged the exalted positions and wealth of the Manchu elites and Han bureaucrats, generating a large number of fallen families in the city. The ensuing political upheavals and the constant overturning of government leaders made consistency in policies virtually impossible and delayed the resolution of urban issues. Relentless battles between warlords and soldiers for control of the city pushed the local economy to the edge of collapse and threatened the livelihoods of ordinary people. Famines caused by floods and droughts in the North China Plain drove peasants into the city, swelling the numbers of people living in poverty. The early twentieth-century urban crisis in Han Guanghui, Beijing lishi renkou dili, 126. Han Guanghui, Beijing lishi renkou dili, 133. 43  Yuan Xi, Jindai Beijing de shimin shenghuo, 38–39. 44  Gamble, Peking, 220. 45  Han Binggao, “Sanshi niandai de Beiping gongye diaocha.” 41  42 

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Beijing was thus a syndrome—the growing proportion of the population sinking into poverty and succumbing to starvation, disease, and a lack of suitable shelter, combined with their constant migration into or out of the city as the result of fierce competition for low-paying jobs, created a pessimistic outlook among the lower classes and became the main topic of everyday conversation. Poverty, though not a new problem, worsened after 1912. The police listed nearly 97,000 people, or 11.95% of the city’s population, as poor or very poor in 1914. Women were more vulnerable to economic downturns than men and thus had higher poverty rates.46 Gamble regarded poverty in Beijing largely as a family problem. Single men, he argued, could leave Beijing if they failed to make a living, but women, especially those with children, found it more difficult to flee.47 Han Guanghui identified two reverse migrations related to urban poverty. While a large number of Manchu families moved out of the city during the late Qing, refugees who were forced to leave their rural homes in north China and Manchuria because of battles between warlords, natural disasters, or untenable living conditions poured into the city.48 The percentages of the very poor were high in the three police districts of the Outer City, where most refugees and other nonpermanent residents congregated. The five districts of the Imperial City and the northwestern Inner City also had a large number of impoverished people, because the Manchus who were the majority there lost their means of support when their government pensions were significantly reduced or discontinued after 1912. Thanks to population growth, inflation, and the shortage of housing that began in the mid-Qing, Manchu soldiers and their families experienced a drastic reduction in their standard of living. The Republican revolution stripped Manchus of their privileged status and threw them into economic and social turmoil. By contrast, the districts in the south-central Inner City and north-central Outer City contained significantly fewer poor people because of the presence of a large number of businesses, hotels, and entertainment venues there.49 Poverty and destitution placed women in a more precarious position than men. Financial woes increased the instability and fragility of the family and jeopardized women’s existing opportunities. Husbands deserted their wives or went elsewhere to seek jobs; parents sold their daughters 46  According to Gamble, of the 96,850 people considered poor or very poor, 53,921, or 55.6%, were male, and 42,929, or 44.4%, were female. Women constituted just 36.6% of the population. See Gamble, Peking, 270. 47  Gamble, Peking, 270. 48  Han Guanghui, Beijing lishi renkou dili, 227–319. 49  Han Guanghui, Beijing lishi renkou dili, 313–319; Gamble, Peking, 271–274.

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to save their families; and young women were abducted or kidnapped for profit by the destitute or gangs. Many women relied on begging or charity. For the survival of their families, women had to sacrifice their seclusion and security to seek whatever opportunities were available. More women became prostitutes, actresses, or concubines, trading on their sexuality and disgracing themselves to make a living. The early Republican period was a golden age for prostitution and actresses’ stage careers, and concubinage was common despite being illegal.50 During the 1920s and 1930s, laboring-class people constituted a new topic of study in the burgeoning sociological field in Beijing. Because Beijing was the center of the New Culture Movement that nurtured Marxism and socialism, scholars devoted their attention to the lives of lower-class families and searched for ways to solve the country’s social ills. Meanwhile, sociology became a major course of study at Yanjing University as Americans and those who had studied abroad found faculty positions and started social survey projects to apply Western theories to the Chinese reality. During the late 1910s, Gamble conducted his pioneering research on Beijing society, published as Peking: A Social Survey in New York in 1921. Gamble’s work set the standard for Chinese sociologists, who enthusiastically studied working-class conditions in the ensuing years. In 1926, the Social Survey Department was established under the Board of the Chinese Educational and Cultural Foundation (Zhonghua jiaoyu wenhua jijin dongshihui), and Director Tao Menghe, a graduate of London University, hired fifty-eight people. The institute published the monthly Social Science Magazine (Shehui kexue zazhi) and several monographs on the local economy, urban life, and research methodologies. Scholars affiliated with the institute recruited students and conducted various surveys on rickshaw workers and suburban peasants. While Tao oversaw a study of forty-eight working-class families in late 1920s Beijing, Gamble visited China for the third time between 1924 and 1927 and spent an entire year researching 283 families in the city, the results of which were later published. Both Tao and Gamble revealed the enormous hardships facing working-class families and pointed out that modern innovations had produced only minimal benefits for the urban poor. Tao conducted a survey on the lives of forty-eight working-class families in the slum areas in the eastern Inner City and southern Outer City during the late 1920s. Twenty-five of the families were Han, twelve were Manchu, and eleven were Muslim; Tao concludes that their “daily customs are

50  It was estimated that 80 percent of officials kept concubines, and commoner men, if their finances allowed, could also marry more than one woman. See Gamble, Peking, 259–260.

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almost undistinguishable.”51 Of the 222 people surveyed, 200 were part of families made up of a working husband and wife plus two or three children. Traditional extended families hardly existed among the poor; only two families studied had more than seven members. The harsh urban environment compelled laboring-class people to work, and 146 of 222 earned an income. Men worked as transportation workers, shop apprentices, porters, shop assistants, waiters, craftsmen, barbers, factory workers, rickshaw pullers, street peddlers, or policemen. Women worked in whatever jobs were available: sewing socks, garments, and hats; spinning wool; producing artificial flowers; recycling waste; and working as midwives or maids. Of 146 workers, 72 were men and 74 were women. Girls generally began working earlier than their brothers, joining their mothers in needlework as young as seven or eight. The monthly family incomes ranged from 11.7 yuan to 31.7 yuan, with the majority somewhere in the middle. Women’s jobs were secondary or complementary to men’s, however. Their domestic duties restricted the number of hours they could work—a daily average of 6.4 compared to 9.1 for men—and affected their earning potential. The men’s average monthly income was 9.8 yuan, while the women’s was 1.5.52 Almost all wages went to food, rent, clothing, fuel, and utilities, with little left for education, entertainment, and socializing. These workers ate meals consisting mainly of grains and vegetables, which failed to provide sufficient calories and protein, and spent more of their incomes for food relative to people in developed countries.53 Only a quarter of the people surveyed had more than one set of clothes for spring and fall, and fewer than a quarter had more than one winter jacket, making personal hygiene hard to maintain. One of the principal obligations for working-class housewives and daughters was to sew clothes and shoes for their families. They patched worn clothes and tailored hand-me-downs to fit their children so that every penny could be used toward their subsistence.54 Tao’s survey also explored the poor conditions of working-class dwellings. Most working-class families could afford no more than one room in a big multifamily compound, and even these were in poor repair. Landlords collected minimal rents and ignored problems such as leaking roofs. The average room was smaller than those found in contemporary Japanese homes, which were known for their compactness. Half of the room was filled with a brick bed used for sleeping, resting, and working. Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 22. Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 26–31. 53  In Beiping, food costs were 70.0% of the income of working-class families, whereas in France they were 59.7%, Britain 57%, Belgium 56.9%, Germany 54.4%, the United States 53.7%, and Australia 36.0% (Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 43). 54  Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 68–71. 51  52 

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A flue that provided heat during the winter ran underneath. Windows were covered not by glass but by thin paper, which blocked light but not wind. Residents worked and slept outside in the courtyard during the hot summer months and squeezed into their tiny rooms during the winter, even cooking inside on small coal-burning stoves for heat. Of the forty-eight families surveyed, forty-five owned less than 150 yuan’s worth of goods: furniture, blankets, clothes, and kitchenware. Although most of the families owned industrial products such as cotton textiles, lantern oil, and enamel mugs, porcelain, glassware, and metal furniture were rare luxuries. The electric lights, telephones, running water, and radios that were standard in middle-class homes in Beijing were absent from working-class homes.55 The majority of working-class families ran budget deficits and had to pawn items or borrow money from relatives or friends to make ends meet. They established “communal fund societies” (shiqianhui) that everyone paid into monthly, making them eligible to cast lots for the opportunity to borrow from it.56 Tao’s findings were supported by Gamble’s survey of Beijing families before 1926. Of the 282 families Gamble surveyed, 135, or 48 percent, had incomes of less than $30 per month, making them working class. The other respondents had monthly incomes ranging from $30 to more than $100, making them middle class.57 Among the working-class group, men were engaged in fifty-five different occupations, and women in thirteen. Fifty-eight women earned small incomes in the jobs listed by Tao; one woman worked as an actress, another as a peddler.58 Half of the women for whom information was available had part-time jobs, and those who took in sewing or laundry earned only 33 cents per day.59 Lower-class families spent a high percentage of their incomes on food. Those earning less than $20 per month spent 70 percent of their budgets on food, while families with incomes between $20 and $40 per month spent 60 percent. Like Tao, Gamble found that the working-class families spent most of their food budgets on grain and flour, and then vegetables, with very little spent on meat and almost none on fruit.60 Gamble’s findings underscore the discrepancy between middle-class and lower-class Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 60–65. According to Tao Menghe’s investigation of forty-eight working-class families in 1920s Beijing, 97 percent of the families’ incomes went to basic living expenses; 90 percent went to food (Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 42). For the poor housing conditions of Beijing workers’ families, see Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 31–71; Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping. 57  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 3–4. 58  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 30, 317. 59  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 34. 60  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 44–75. 55  56 

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families. While a well-to-do family could occupy multiple rooms and a courtyard, a poor family usually rented one or two rooms and shared a courtyard with several other families. Of the 116 families with incomes of less than $25 a month, only three had more than two rooms. The rents for those families were usually low, less than $2 a month for the families with incomes below $25 a month. Yet, rents increased 50 percent from 1918 to 1926, and made up at least 11 percent of the budgets for families earning $10 to $35 per month.61 As for clothing, working-class men and women usually wore blue single-ply cotton shirts, coats, trousers, and socks during the summer and coats made of two thicknesses of cloth padded with cotton during the winter. They were extremely frugal regarding clothes. Those earning $5 per month spent 2 percent of their incomes on clothing; those earning $30 spent less than 10 percent.62 In addition, the proportion spent for miscellaneous goods was very small. Expenditures on miscellaneous items including education, communication, health care, household equipment, recreation and entertainment, and religion were the measure of a family’s standard of living. For families earning $21 or less per month, the proportion spent on miscellaneous goods was less than 10 percent. Most families with low incomes spent literally nothing on newspapers, books, writing supplies, and school tuition, and only tiny amounts on health care, recreation, and entertainment.63 The costs of weddings and funerals could be financially overwhelming, several times larger than the family’s monthly income.64 Women who worked in factories didn’t necessarily improve their family’s standard of living. They usually supplemented their husbands’ low wages or provided their family’s sole income, so their income did little to alleviate poverty. Their low wages, illiteracy, and physically demanding jobs led to malnutrition and high infant mortality rates. Liao Suqing’s 1930 study of the working mothers of the Charitable Commercial Workshop (Cishang nügongchang), which made artificial flowers, identified the problems associated with child rearing in working-class families. The workshop employed more than two hundred women, twenty-six of whom were married with children. The workshop offered a free nursery for newborns, and mothers were allowed to breastfeed during working hours. Although the birth rate was high, so was the infant death rate, in part because women married at about twenty years of age and had little knowledge of how to care for a child. Twenty-five of the twentysix women workers earned 9.36 yuan per month, most of which went to Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 121–140. Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 109–120. 63  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 164–197. 64  Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 198–241. 61  62 

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rent and food. The husbands typically worked as servants, policemen, vendors, rickshaw pullers, water carriers, and coal-cart pullers, earning wages so low that their wives, parents, and children had to work. Most of the families lived in a single room with a dirt or brick floor, and their toilets were crude pits dug in the corners of their courtyards. Those who didn’t have regular waste disposal simply dumped their garbage in the courtyard or on the street. Because of these conditions, personal hygiene was a difficult issue. Furthermore, women didn’t take a break from their jobs after giving birth, requesting time off only if they were seriously ill. Most of the women surveyed—twenty of twenty-six—used traditional midwives, and only two used Western-trained doctors. Young mothers rarely bathed their babies, for they were too frugal to wash their clothes or to use soap. Children did not brush their teeth or change their clothes on a daily basis, and they ate adult food such as cornbread, noodles, rice, and vegetables from the very beginning. Twenty-four of the twenty-six mothers surveyed were illiterate, and their children usually stayed at home to help their parents with housework or look after their siblings. Child abuse was common, and children obeyed their parents out of fear.65 The unemployed and new immigrants created an oversupply of unskilled labor in a fiercely competitive job market that was already shrinking. Men earned very little or were jobless and idle, and many abandoned their families, making women’s ability to earn a living critical. Working wives and daughters who had been excluded in large part from the formal employment structure in the city had to generate jobs for themselves. Their efforts took them from their households to the streets and enabled them to combine their domestic obligations with profit-seeking activities. This arrangement meant that they were informal workers on the lowest rung in the employment hierarchy, but it also gave them a sort of freedom to make urban public spaces their own. Manchu Women From the early Qing era, the Manchu court placed more than half its banner soldiers in the city and surrounding areas, thus generating a large Manchu population in the capital. In 1648, the Manchu population in Beijing and suburban areas was approximately 400,000, compared to a Han population of 115,000. Despite government policies to lessen the disparity, the Manchu population increased to 448,172 by 1910, compared to a Han population of 364,164.66 Revisionist scholars, using newly discovered source materials, recently have shed light on the issues of Manchu ethnicity and Manchu-Han 65  66 

Liao Suqing, “Diaocha cishang nügongchang hou.” Han Guanghui, Beijing lishi renkou dili, 126.

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relations. They refute the previous presumption that the Manchu, a backward frontier minority, eagerly adopted more advanced Chinese institutions and cultural norms and thereby lost their own cultural identity promptly after they conquered China in 1644. These scholars contend that “the Manchu way”—the tradition of archery, horse riding, fluency in the Manchu language, intramarriage, and other customs and practices— evolved through the Eight Banners stationed at scattered military garrisons and in the capital city. The Manchu ruling elites endowed their people with a unique ethnic identity that remained largely unchanged during the course of history. By the end of the dynasty, Manchus were still fundamentally an alien group, never assimilated into the majority population of Hans.67 From the onset of the Qing dynasty, Manchus were segregated from the Han majority. Manchus were enrolled into special military and civil organizations—the Eight Banners (baqi)—and were subject to the jurisdictions of their own officials. They gained the classification of “banner people” (qimin) hereditarily and permanently, in contrast to the majority Hans, who were civilians under the control of a different set of bureaucrats. Manchu men were essentially soldiers skilled in archery and the martial arts, and they were not allowed to enter a trade or other occupation. They depended on government stipends of silver, grain, or land, and they received imperial subsidies and relief when faced with economic difficulties. They also were privileged regarding legal rights, civil service examinations, and official appointments. Unlike the Han, the Manchu retained their language through most of the dynasty (including their polysyllabic names), along with the queue hairstyle and their official dress code. Manchu families lived in segregated garrison quarters that were exclusively for banner people. In Beijing, Manchus resided in the Inner City, whereas the Han inhabited the Outer City. Initially, the Inner City was accessible to Hans only during the daytime, but by the

67  Among scholars who defend Manchu ethnicity, Pamela K. Crossley stressed that identity progressed from “cultural to racial to ethnic arenas of negotiation,” and that Manchu ethnicity emerged during the nineteenth century in response to the growth of a Han national identity. See Crossley, “Thinking about Ethnicity in Early Modern China” and Orphan Warriors. Evelyn S. Rawski interpreted the impulse to create and retain a separate Manchu cultural identity through an analysis of court life and institutions. See Rawski, The Last Emperors. Mark C. Elliott viewed ethnicity as an enduring trait of Manchus sustained by the institution of the Eight Banners or, in his words, “ethnic sovereignty.” See Elliott, The Manchu Way. Edward J. M. Rhoads focused on the anti-Manchu movement during the Revolution of 1911 and argues that to the Han, Manchus remained an alien, privileged, and distinct group even in the late Qing and early Republican periods. See Rhoads, Manchus and Han.

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mid-nineteenth century, an increasing number of Han bureaucrats and merchants managed to gain admission at other times.68 Similarly, Manchu women observed customs and practices different from those of Han women. They didn’t adopt the practice of foot binding, though they wrapped their feet to give them a slim look or, by the late Qing, wore “horse-hoof” shoes designed to produce the walking style of small-footed women without the physical discomfort of actual binding. Their hairstyle—in which the hair was wrapped in an elaborate triangular pattern around a wooden, ivory, or metal fillet fastened behind the head—was known as the “two-fisted head” (liangbatou) or “frame head” (jiazitou).69 Their clothing, a legacy from the Ming tradition, usually consisted of a two-piece outfit with a loose three-quarter-length tunic featuring narrow sleeves and worn over a pair of trousers. Manchu women, like their male counterparts, enjoyed more legal rights and educational opportunities than Hans. For example, Qing law granted a Manchu widow numerous rights: the right to her deceased husband’s land or to obtain a stipend from the government; the right to adopt a male heir to support her in her old age; and, if a Manchu couple died without a son, their daughter could inherit the family property. Manchu women sometimes worked as managers of the land and businesses they inherited. Some of them even learned hunting and horse riding and, more frequently than Han daughters, visited theaters, temple fairs, and friends’ houses. Occasionally, Manchu women were active on the battlefield, earning the title of “banner lieutenant.” They also performed shamanism at court and were thought to hold magical powers.70 In the Manchu family, unmarried daughters were held in higher esteem than their sisters-in-law: they were given the honorific “great aunt” (gunainai) and sat with their brothers at the dining table while their sisters-in-law had no seats and worked as maids to serve the food and towels.71 Manchu women admired the virtues of Han women and, through the promotion of their male elites, to some extent accommodated their customs to the Han moral standards and cultural practices. Regarding marriage, for example, Manchus replaced the practice of polygamy, in which a man could marry his brothers’ widows or wife’s sisters after they Rhoads, Manchus and Han, 11–69; Elliott, The Manchu Way, 89–209. Elliott, The Manchu Way, 246–255. 70  Lai Huimin, “Qingdai huangzu funüde jiating diwei”; Lai Huimin and Xu Siling, “Qingdai qiren funü caichan quanzhi qianxi”; Pu Jie, “Chunqin wanfu de shenghuo”; Yang Xichun, Manzu fengsu kao, 90; and Zhou Hong, Manzu funü shenghuo yu minsu wenhua, 81–99. 71  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi [rites and customs], 7:404; Zhou Hong, Manzu funü shenghuo yu minsu wenhua, 217–218. Shuo Wang argues that Manchu women’s customs changed more slowly than those of their men and thereby contributed to the preservation of the Manchu identity. See Wang, “Manchu Women in Transition.” 68  69 

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entered China proper, with the Han practice of monogyny. As compensation for the Manchu practice of arranged marriage called “directed marriage” (zhihun), Manchu leaders permitted their men to marry concubines of other ethnic backgrounds. Despite the prohibition on intermarriage between the Manchu and the Han, Manchu men could buy Han or other ethnic women as their concubines or maidservants. Furthermore, Manchus acquired from Hans an appreciation of the concept of female chastity. In Manchuria, Manchu men punished adultery and sometimes encouraged wives to commit suicide after their husbands’ deaths. Yet, they didn’t really enforce the ideal of chastity for women, and they allowed their widows to remarry. Beginning in 1644, Manchu emperors began to recognize women who refused to remarry after their husbands’ deaths by giving them awards of silver, and those widows who committed suicide to protect their reputations had monumental arches built in their honor and imperial eulogies given for them. The chastity-rewarding practice was well established during the Yongzheng reign (1723–1734), and the number of Manchu women who were honored for their chaste deeds exceeded the number of Han women under the Kangxi rule (1661–1722). The Qing government guaranteed Manchu widows generous pensions and allowed sons to inherit their fathers’ positions. With this official encouragement and protection, elite Manchu females rivaled their Han counterparts in the area of adherence to the ideal. In several examples, young women whose fiancés had died continued to serve their prospective in-laws or killed themselves as if widowed. No later than the mid-Qing did Manchu women treasure the conduct of chastity and cautiously preserve their virginity and integrity for their future husbands.72 Though the acculturation of Manchu women remains a subject of further research, it is safe to state that Manchu women had absorbed the norm of chastity by the mid-Qing and practiced the virtuous conduct inspired by Han women. Unlike the Han in appearance, Manchu women, particularly elite women, still identified themselves with the Confucian ideals of womanhood. Yet, the process of acculturation continued through the end of the Qing as Manchu women retained their distinctive dress code, natural feet, and freedom to venture outdoors. In 1999, Ding Yizhuang, a mainland Chinese scholar of Manchu women, published interviews she conducted with fifteen elderly Manchu women in 1997 and 1998 in an oral history book titled The Last Memories (Zuihou de jiyi). Of the fifteen interviewees, seven were from the Beijing area, the daughters of bureaucrats, nobles, or soldiers. Since they lived through the Republican period and knew the stories of their parents and 72  Ding Yizhuang, Manzhou de funü shenghuo yu hunyin zhidu yanjiu, 1–67; Elliott, The Manchu Way, 246–255; Rhoads, Manchus and Han, 62; and Rawski, The Last Emperors, 127–159.

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grandparents, their accounts provided precious information about Manchu women’s hardships and transformation. These women recalled that they were born into big families and that their grandmothers, mothers, or aunts were mainly Manchu women. Before the Republican era, Manchu women married only bannermen, though marriage between Manchus and Mongols was permitted. Unlike Han women, who usually married young husbands while in their teens, many Manchu girls entered marriages arranged by their parents to men of their own age while in their twenties. Manchus’ long presence in Beijing enabled them to develop broad kinship connections, and marriages between relatives were common. By the early twentieth century, Manchu families had adopted Han marital rituals, including matchmaking, exchanging birthday information, assessing marital partners, becoming engaged, giving holiday gifts, preparing a dowry, choosing an auspicious date, and holding Han wedding ceremonies. The groom’s family would arrange an occasion to look at the prospective bride at a temple fair or a friend’s house, but the couple was not supposed to meet before the wedding. Marriage between Manchus and Hans was not practiced on a large scale until the Qing court was overthrown. In other areas, however, Manchu women retained their own traditions. The interviewees remembered seeing their mothers or aunts wearing Manchu-style headdresses and high-heeled shoes. Most of the interviewees and their sisters received at least an elementary-school education and gained basic literacy. Their passions were the Peking Opera—at least one of the interviewees had met her husband onstage—songs played with the eight-angled drum (bajiaogu), temple fairs, and popular novels. Their lives involved numerous rules and rituals, including bowing to their parents-in-law several times a day and greeting older relatives with a stylistic salute. Similar to Han women, Manchu women studied needlework and were skilled at sewing and embroidery. They made clothes and shoes for their brothers and for their own dowries, and they occasionally found jobs in embroidery workshops. Bureaucrats’ daughters were versed in Confucian virtues and the classics and sometimes received private tutoring. Despite occasional tours of temple fairs and other public places, Manchu girls were taught by their parents not to venture alone beyond their households; they were always to be chaperoned by their seniors or friends. Manchu elites appear to have adopted the idea of seclusion out of concern for their daughters’ safety and reputation. All of the interviewees said that the Manchu way of life underwent a dramatic downturn by the early twentieth century as a result of inflation, the growing Manchu population, and the revolution. These women

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recalled that even before 1912, many Manchu men led idle and wasteful lives, forgoing work in order to spend their time and money on birds, insects, other pets, or opium. After the Manchu court collapsed, many were unable to adapt to a life of work and supported themselves by selling their property and belongings. Educated people worked for the government, postal service, or banks; others became policemen, rickshaw pullers, vendors, servants, or actors. Their wives and daughters had to work or adjust to a lower standard of living.73 Ding’s research illustrates the general Manchu decline after 1912. Whereas the imperial household was protected by abdication agreements, the majority of Manchus lost their privileges and encountered various degrees of persecution and discrimination. The men’s queue, the Manchu language, and the official dress were abolished by the Republican government, and the banner soldiers’ stipends were reduced or suspended. In 1924, the warlord Feng Yuxiang expelled the abdicated emperor Puyi from the Forbidden City and abolished the banner system. Manchu families finally lost the social welfare provided by the government. In the early 1920s, Manchu men were recruited from the Beijing area to counter the Mongolian movement for independence, and the deaths of many of them created a large number of widows in the city. In addition, Manchus serving as palace guards were let go in 1922, and Manchu soldiers under the command of the warlord Sun Chuanfang (1885–1935) lost their military careers when their units were defeated by Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist force in the Northern Expedition. By 1920, the Manchu portion of the Beijing population dwindled to about 25 percent, and many Manchu families changed their surnames or fled to avoid political mistreatment.74 In sum, the social geography, language, and popular literature in traditional Beijing perpetuated the notion of gender spheres and feminine roles. Manchu elites encouraged their women to adopt Han values and cultural practices. The early twentieth-century urban reforms did little to improve lower-class women’s lives, and the feminist movement motivated only a small number of middle-class daughters. The modern transformation didn’t prevent the economic crisis caused by the Revolution of 1911 or the ensuing political instability and industrial underdevelopment. The crisis exacerbated the economic and social vulnerabilities of lower-class women and intensified their struggle for survival. The fall of Manchu families furthered women’s predicament. The contradictory urban conditions, however, nurtured two tendencies of women to take advantage of urban public spaces, as discussed in the following chapters. On the one hand, the Ding Yizhuang, Zuihou de jiyi, 1–119. Rhoads, Manchus and Han, 231–284; Yuan Xi, Jindai Beijing de shimin shenghuo, 26–30; and Zhao Shu, “Beijing chengqu Manzu shenghuo suoji.” 73  74 

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economic plight compelled poor women to seek a livelihood outside their homes and extended their struggles in urban public spaces. On the other hand, the opening of the city to Western influence and nationalist politics inspired middle-class women who initiated an emancipation movement through creating various ways of using public spaces.

Figure 2: Women at a food distribution location in Beijing, ca. 1924–1927. (From the Sidney D. Gamble Photographs, Duke University Rare Book, Manuscript, and Special Collections Library. Used by permission.)

TWO

Livelihood

If middle-class daughters gained satisfaction from an expanded social sphere that facilitated their political consciousness, social networks, and personal autonomy, laboring-class women opted to use urban public spaces for financial gain. Their revenue-generating endeavors, whether home based or publicly operated, were related to outside agencies, institutions, or places. Their efforts to earn a living accounted for a crucial part of the urban economy and helped lower-class families acquire the resources needed for subsistence. Yet, women were not granted access to the public domain by male authorities or because of the city’s transformation from ancient to modern. Instead, women found jobs through their own negotiations and struggles. Laboring women took on the work appropriate for their station in life. Their strong will to survive, plus their diligence and sacrifices, helped them adapt to the competitive urban environment. Although their entry into public spaces was propelled by financial need and their jobs were mostly low paid, low skilled, or disreputable, the fact that they worked, especially outside their homes, directly challenged the elites’ ideal of female dependency and eventually redefined city streets as workplaces for women. The outside/inside dichotomy representing both the division of male and female labor and the values and assumptions that degraded women’s contributions existed in the city’s job markets.1 Women’s work anywhere in the city was systematically underrated. Yet, lower-class women hardly observed geographical boundaries, restricting their work to the family home or courtyard; they used streets or other sites to earn a profit. Wives’ dual responsibilities for profit seeking and child rearing blurred the distinction between production and reproduction. In late Qing and early Republican Beijing, some female workers received orders from workshops and completed them at home, operating in the low end of the industrial production chain. Other women worked as maids, recycled junk, sold 1 

Jacka, Women’s Work in Rural China, 3–4.

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goods, produced needlework, performed in regional operas or other folkentertainment venues, or were prostitutes. Their contributions created an informal sector in the urban economy and likely constructed notions of gender through the types of work they chose rather than through where the work was performed. As modernization slowly transformed Beijing’s urban economy in the early twentieth century, problems arose that were the consequences of underdevelopment—not the side effects of industrialization. Poverty, unemployment, a shortage of industrial capital and new technology, and limited improvement of urban facilities further reduced the living conditions of the poor. Yet, women’s struggles for subsistence eased the predicament for both the government and the family and overturned centuries-old presumptions and stigmas about women’s place in society. Their activities also contradicted the intent of the modern urban authorities to prevent any disruption to the social and moral order. This chapter analyzes the intersection of women’s work and urban public spaces, clarifying how women’s work defined and redefined the inside/outside dichotomy and created contradictory identities. Working at Home Most lower-class women in Beijing contributed to their households by working both inside and outside the home, despite social prejudice that discounted the value of women’s domestic skills. Needlework, for instance, was probably practiced for centuries in the Beijing area by families of all classes and ethnicities, and it provided poor women with a skill to withstand the economic downturn of the early twentieth century. A strict division of labor based on gender was a longstanding Chinese tradition, epitomized by the universally held notion that “men plow and women weave.” Similarly, women’s production of cloth since the Tang (618–907) and Song dynasties constituted a crucial proportion of the state tax and created a significant market value.2 Confucian rhetoric celebrated the moral dimension of women’s work devoted to industry, frugality, and service to the male lineage. The ruling elite class championed the concept of a productive household that made the most of the wife’s skill and motivation to work and implemented the appropriate division of labor.3 The legacy of women’s work and the widespread appreciation for women’s diligence in Chinese society shaped the way Beijing families cultivated their daughters’ work ethic. Girls in both Manchu and Han households were taught some homemaking and needlework skills. In a typical, Ebrey, The Inner Quarters, 131–151; Bray, Technology and Gender, 237–282. Mann, Precious Records, 143–177; Mann, “Work and Households in Chinese Culture: Historical Perspectives,” in Entwisle and Henderson, Re-Drawing Boundaries, 15–32. 2  3 

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productive Beijing household, the husband could work as a craftsman, police officer, rickshaw puller, shop clerk, waiter, chef, porter, or street peddler, while the wife earned an auxiliary income through needlework or other handicrafts, or through providing laundry and sewing services for the rich. Children assisted with take-home piecework or scavenging for coins. In a few cases, craftsmen’s daughters inherited their fathers’ skills and worked in shops. The tale of Grape Chang’s (Putao Chang’s) family proved that women could be the backbone of a workshop. Grape Chang, a Mongol bannerman during the late Qing, specialized in making glass grapes and other decorative objects. His handiwork was so superb that merchants from all over the country came to buy his products, and he even won an award from Empress Dowager Cixi. His daughters and granddaughters learned the secret technique for making the artificial grapes and became his successors. Their brothers were spoiled and lazy, so these women undertook men’s work and remained single as they spent their entire lives carrying on the family business.4 Most laboring-class women, however, were engaged in jobs that could be undertaken at home, such as shoe making, which allowed them to earn income while meeting their family obligations of caring for husband, children, and parents. Elderly men in Beijing favored a handmade type of winter shoe called “old men’s pleasure” (laotou le) for which women made the soles. Women who lived outside Guangqu Gate were known for their sole-making abilities and filled orders from “sole bureaus” (diju) or sole workshops by collecting rags and gluing or sewing them together. Old women and young girls prepared hemp strings for the seamstresses, who used boards to press the sole and an awl to guide the thread. The brokers didn’t provide equipment or materials, so production was mainly the women’s undertaking. Despite the tedious and exhausting nature of the work, the seamstresses made only 10 to 20 coppers per piece.5 Embroidery was another job for needle-proficient women. Beijingstyle embroidery (jingxiu) was known for its elegance, and embroidery merchants (xiuzhuang) hired women to carry out this highly demanding handicraft work. During the late Qing dynasty, bureaucrats, opera troupes, and Manchu women formed the majority of the clientele for embroidered products. Merchants took orders from clients and found contractors (chengtou ren) to fill the orders. Contractors then offered the work to female embroiderers found throughout Beijing. The merchants supplied the foundation silk and picture patterns, but the embroiderers used their own thread and frames. Women who lived outside Yongding Chang Yuling, “Putao Chang” [Grape Chang], in Shu Yi et al., Yilin cangsang, 356–368. Jin Shoushen, “Shougong zuofang” [Handicraft workshops], in Shu Yi et al., Yilin cangsang, 386–392. 4  5 

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Gate or Guangqu Gate in the southern outskirts of the city were among the best at this trade and participated in the guild for generations. The finished works were double-sided, and seamstresses were paid for each piece; because embroidery was an artistic and time-consuming job, the prices were quite high. Even those at the bottom of the guild hierarchy could make a handsome profit of 2 or 3 yuan per day, much more than could be made sewing shoe soles.6 Still, while women outnumbered men in the guild, they were mostly pieceworkers and were paid less than their male counterparts.7 In the Republican era, there were more than thirty embroidering workshops with about five hundred employees. Women who worked for them developed distinctive regional styles and expanded their offerings to include uniforms, theatrical costumes, bed linens, skirts, jackets, shoes, and decorative screens. Still another profitable form of needlework was “embroidering flowers on cross-type clothing” (shizibu tiaohua). Manchu girls in Landian Chang in the western suburbs of Beijing were especially known for their skills in this craft. After 1920, this form of needlework was replaced by “patching” (bu), or assembling floral patterns out of small pieces of cloth and sewing them onto a base cloth. Western missionaries opened Yanjing Patching Factory in the area in 1920 and employed women to produce pieces for export. Later on, bannerman Bai Youyi opened a factory whose products were highly sought both in China and abroad. Still, women who took assignments home made up the majority of these workers. According to a memo by Hu Fuzhen, a Manchu woman who lived in Landian Chang during the 1920s and 1930s, most young girls in her neighborhood knew how to patch and worked at home for factories and workshops. They constantly sought higher-paying jobs and became the primary wage earners in their families.8 Flower making was also a women’s livelihood. Artificial flowers made of paper, cloth, or silk were highly desired by Manchu women (who decorated their headdresses with big flowers), wealthy families, performing troupes, and funeral homes. During the late Qing, the business prospered in Beijing, and the flowers were sold as far away as Zhili, Shanxi, and Mongolia. After 1912, the fashion in Manchu women’s hairstyles changed, affecting the industry, yet the flowers were still widely used in weddings and funerals, birthday celebrations, worship services, and holiday decorations. During the Republican years, the flower market outside Chongwen Gate in the Outer City was a must-see site for women and Jin Shoushen, “Shougong zuofang,” 386–392. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 3:465. 8  Ding Yizhuang, Zuihou de jiyi, 67–68. For Manchu women’s embroidering, see Fu Li, Beijing de shaoshu minzu, 143. 6  7 

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tourists. The market was an amalgamation of stores, workshops, professional households, and inns, distributing artificial flowers to traders from all over the country. A paper flower needed to be cut, painted, waxed, and shaped. The job required different techniques and specialties for making leaves, petals, and stems. More than a thousand families and shops supported a workforce of three thousand men and women in this trade. Merchants could provide the necessary materials to women who made the pieces at home for final assembly at the shop. Workshops could also order flower pieces or processing services from female hands and then sell completed commodities to merchants. This was convenient but costly for flower shops. Most workshops were family businesses relying on the contributions of the owners’ wives, daughters, hired hands, and apprentices. In those workshops, men crafted the pieces, assembled the flowers, and tested the quality of the products, while women solicited the orders, bought the materials, processed pieces, and delivered or sold the flowers. The flowers they helped produce were ultimately sold at local markets or distributed to street peddlers for sale at temple fairs or door-to-door. The typical arrangement in which men handled the external business responsibilities and women the internal production changed during this time as some housewives and their daughters organized themselves to craft flowers and sell them at markets or to flower shops. In the first and second cases, women were contracted to work from home. In the third case, they handled the business deals and hired other women to work for them. They were thereby managers, producers, and traders who were responsible for the entire process of flower production and marketing.9 In addition to working for stores or workshops, seamstresses could also recycle waste material into products for sale. Since these women collected the junk and sold their products at market, they did not fit the work-at-home category. Jin Shoushen (1906–1968), a Manchu scholar of Beijing popular culture, investigated the “afternoon markets” (wanshi) in the 1930s and detailed how poor women took advantage of the recycling industry and made meager profits through their creative skills. At Desheng, Chaoyang, and Anding Gates, afternoon markets were opened between three and four and closed before dark. Visitors could find “tiger works”—winter jackets and pants that poor women made from recycled materials—for sale. The women collected rags and used cotton goods, washed them, and sewed them into wearable, heavy winter clothes. Rags that were too small for clothes were turned into socks. The remaining 9  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 3:508–509; Duan Yumei, “Zuohua shengya” [My career of making flowers], in Shu Yi et al., Yilin cangsang, 351–355; Jin Shoushen, “Shougong zuofang”; Gao Shuping and Gao Jian, “Huashi shuwang”; and Zhao Xinghua, Lao Beijing miaohui, 77–83.

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tiny scraps were used to make the soles and upper parts of shoes. Lowerclass customers appreciated these inexpensive garments, which generated a profit in the afternoon markets for the women who made them.10 Women’s home-based handicrafts evolved mainly from traditional womanly skills that linked laboring women to the local market economy. Since this work involved manufacturing and was profitable, it differed from women’s regular household duties. The homes and courtyards of handiworking women were workplaces where women created jobs for themselves and affiliated themselves with outside workshops, stores, and street peddlers. The work brought women into direct or indirect contact with brokers, shop managers, and other businesspeople and thereby allowed women to establish a network in the business world. Yet, most of the work was considered domestic and auxiliary, in contrast with men’s formal jobs and primary responsibilities. The boundaries between home and workplace and between the inside and outside domains were not clearly defined, however, as skillful female workers mingled the responsibilities of production and reproduction in the household and attained a kind of spatial mobility in contributing their services to handicraft production and trade in the city. Domestic Services A cluster of less-skilled women offered domestic services—an extension of their homemaking knowledge and abilities—to wealthy households. Officials, merchants, and professionals in the city could afford to hire maidservants, or “old maids” (laomazi), including wet nurses, hairdressers, and home laborers. A wet nurse carried the responsibility of breastfeeding a baby and thus earned a higher salary and more respect. She looked after the child through adulthood and then could retire in the master’s home. According to H. Y. Lowe, a wet nurse in early twentiethcentury Beijing usually earned a wage about three times that of a regular maidservant. She expected the family she worked for to provide her with clothes, a bed, gifts at festivals and the New Year, and even a piece of land as compensation if she was discharged.11 A comber was the intimate servant of the mistress and had to be clever and adroit. She had light chores but received generous pay. The majority of domestic servants, however, undertook duties such as shopping, cooking, laundry, sewing, and babysitting.12 There were short-term and long-term old maids. Shortterm servants made twice as much as those with long-term positions. Those who served women after childbirth or who assisted new brides Jin Shoushen, “Xiaoshi” [Small markets], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 424–432. Lowe, The Adventures of Wu, 2:49. 12  Chenbao, 29 August 1926. 10  11 

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usually stayed for only a few months, although some wealthy brides kept their wet nurses for a long time.13 In the domestic service hierarchy, old maids earned a wage lower than that of chefs and rickshaw pullers, but somewhat higher than that of other domestic servants. An old maid earned between 3 and 6 yuan per month, based on her age and skill, but could make an amount equivalent to her regular pay by cutting the shopping budget, getting tips from guests, or receiving bonuses from the housewife.14 The employer also provided free lodging, health care, and even a retirement home for old maids. Sometimes the master and servant developed a lifelong friendship, and the servant was treated like a family member. For example, Old Madam Yin bought Ho Chieh as a girl servant and later arranged her marriage to a decent man. When Ho Chieh was widowed and had no place to go, Madam Yin took her back and looked after her and her child. She even found Ho Chieh a servant position in the household of an American friend.15 Being a maidservant was usually a highly desirable job for new immigrants and the urban poor. Fallen Manchu women, rural women from regions surrounding Beijing, and refugees escaping famine made up the majority of female servants. The job was relatively stable, light, and familiar to laboring women. The job-related training was minimal, but the pay was not necessarily low on the domestic service professional ladder. A survey of forty-one female and eighty-eight male domestic servants who worked for faculty and staff at Yanjing University conducted by the Sociology Society at the university in 1930 indicates that the average income of a babysitter was lower than that of a chef or a runner (tingchai), but higher than the wage of a general assistant. The investigators found that although some women worked as chefs and general helpers, most Guo Licheng, Gudu yiwang, 150–154. In a wealthy household, a male chef could make 15 to 20 yuan per month, while a rickshaw puller could make up to 30 yuan. The monthly wage for a maid, however, ranged from 3 to 6 yuan, with most earning 4 or 5 yuan. In addition to their salaries, maids could earn tips (shangqian) from guests and could keep the difference in any reduction they effected in the household budget (diziqian). This extra income usually was equivalent to the normal salary. If the housewife liked playing mah-jongg, her guests would pay for the associated snacks and dinner expenses (choutou). One fourth of these, or 3 yuan, would be divided by the staff of the hostess and her guests. This income could be 4 to 5 yuan a month per person. In a lower-middle-class family that didn’t play mah-jongg, a maidservant could still make 2 to 3 yuan extra per month. All things considered, a maid earned at least 5 yuan per month. See Deng Yunxiang, Wenhua gucheng jiushi. Sidney Gamble’s 1926 survey of 283 Beijing families also confirmed that a maidservant could make extra income through recycling and taking commissions from tradesmen who brought supplies to the house. He believed that wages for woman servants varied from $1.50 to $5 a month, lower than what Deng recalled. See Gamble, How Chinese Families Live in Peiping, 179–180. 15  Pruitt, Old Madam Yin. 13  14 

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worked as babysitters. The average monthly wage for maidservants was 8 yuan, but for male servants, 11 yuan. Maidservants worked no longer than twelve hours per day, and their work was easier and lighter than that found in factories. An old maid could save a significant amount thanks to her free room and board. Sometimes, she became a creditor to her master. Sanhe County in Hebei Province, which was notorious for its floods and poverty, contributed the most maids to wealthy families in Beijing. It was a local custom that young wives in that area left their homes and worked in Beijing as domestic servants for certain periods. They were clean, shrewd, and independent. The money they made could ease the financial predicaments of their families, sometimes even to the point of helping their husbands buy land or build a house. Paid domestic work challenged the socially accepted meaning of the home and its association with the private and familial. The work underscored the complex intersections of domesticity, class status, and differences of native place that distinguished and fragmented women. An old maid resembled her middle-class mistress in that both shared womanly skills and duties. Yet, the former was a gainfully employed woman who usually came from somewhere outside Beijing. The latter was a well-to-do housewife, normally a city resident, who took advantage of the woman’s service. Maidservants thereby turned women’s household chores into paid employment and obscured the division between domesticity and work. In addition, a maidservant could more freely use urban spaces than her mistress. Unlike her mistress, who might spend most of her time in the family compound or in social interactions with her kin or friends of her class, an old maid had to shop, fetch water from the street well, watch the children as they played outside, and deliver messages for her master. Her activities were not restricted to her employer’s household and in part extended to the neighborhood streets and alleyways, making her active in the neighborhood’s social life and, by the elites’ assumption, a source of gossip and discord. To become maidservants in Beijing, rural women had to migrate and adapt to the urban environment. Their change in identity or development of contradictory identities as both rural and urban women led to scorn and ridicule from male elites, who tended to cherish the simplicity of countrywomen and disapproved of the urban influence on female migrants. Because urban society was fragmented by the solidarity provided by association of people from the same town of origin, city people could develop prejudice against migrant workers from certain regions as a way to defend their own jobs, their place in the social order, and their feelings

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of cultural superiority.16 A male writer used the examples of old maids who had come from the countryside in the 1930s as evidence to confirm Confucius’s saying that “only women and villains are difficult to raise.” Through a skeptical lens, the man described the young women’s lack of knowledge about home service when they first arrived in Beijing. They were unable to serve tea or light a stove and were shy around guests. Yet after a while, they became proficient and bold enough to complain about their job assignments. They lost their original rustic naïveté and honesty and would change jobs ruthlessly for higher pay. These young women even rode in vehicles with their mistresses and wore makeup and fashionable clothes.17 Another newspaperman was even more disgusted with the way maidservants betrayed their rural roots as they pursued cosmopolitan comforts and became mistresses of their male masters.18 Both men regarded the city as a corruptive force that stripped women of their virtue and purity. Their writings also conveyed a belief that women carried a potential for evil that was fostered by the urban environment. Aunts and Grannies Although most women worked at home, a small number sought their livelihoods in public spaces. Beijing was full of prejudice against women who worked on the streets, and only the most impoverished and hopeless looked there for survival. As discussed previously, women were more vulnerable than men to the clutches of poverty. Many women peasants and refugees could find nothing but sex work, begging, picking through garbage, or domestic service jobs in the city. Dislocation and destitution compelled them to do things that might be viewed as disgraceful and amoral. Women who had been deserted by their husbands or who were widowed might have had to work at any job available. Those without family support or those who had to support their own families also explored the hidden resources of the streets. In addition, the collapse of the Qing dynasty in 1912 ruined many Manchu families, and their women had to undertake jobs they would never have consented to previously. Unlike men, who often became poor through their own vices such as opium smoking, gambling, whoring, or financial mismanagement, women more often became poor through circumstances beyond their control. Sometimes they were victims of men and had no choice but to make a living in the public eye.19 Honig, Creating Chinese Ethnicity. Nilü Guoke, Dushi congtan, 86–87. 18  Chenbao, 14, 21 September 1925. 19  Poverty escalated during the 1920s. Statistical data show that in 1928, when the city had 1,129,602 residents, 234,800, or 20.7%, lived below the poverty line. See “Beiping tebieshi hukou tongji biao” [The population statistics of Beiping Special Municipality), Beiping tebie 16  17 

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Historically, Beijing women held certain kinds of occupations that required setting up a distinct business site, traveling, or visiting other homes. Those who opened business in their households or visited women at home to provide professional services were Buddhist or Taoist nuns, fortune-tellers, midwives, witch doctors, medicine sellers, matchmakers, brokers who trafficked in women, and brothel managers. They were referred to as the “three types of aunts” (sangu) and “six kinds of grannies” (liupo). These women could be divided into three groups: religious workers, medical experts, and commercial brokers. During the Ming and Qing times, aunts and grannies were in demand by both elite and ordinary families for their magic healing abilities, spiritual advice, fortune-telling, and assistance in matters related to marriage and reproduction. Among their gifts, the most precious was probably their ability to bring news of the outside world to isolated housewives. Because they dominated the yin world of healing and reproduction, they constituted “an informal bureaucracy” to supervise life transitions.20 In early twentieth-century Beijing, aunts and grannies were still common. Newspaper accounts revealed that witch doctors had clinics in their households or offered outpatient services. Lower-class residents of Beijing, tradition abiding and under financial stress, were more likely to see witch doctors than to visit modern hospitals when sick.21 Witch doctors were known as “incense watchers” (qiaoxiangde) because they based their diagnosis of each case on the manner in which incense offered at the shrine burned. These magic women were thought to possess supernatural powers derived from animals including the fox, mink, hedgehog, and snake, and they counseled believers about the causes and healing methods of illnesses. Women patients often felt more comfortable disclosing their symptoms to witch doctors or submitting themselves to their physical examinations as customs still prevented intimate contact between doctors and patients of the opposite sex. The female communities emphasizing kinship, friendship, and neighborhood connections guaranteed a steady stream of patients for witch doctors if the latter proved effective and attentive. Buddhist or Taoist nuns also used medicine to convert believers or add to their fortunes. Manchu women, usually more spiritual than Han women, showed their faith in shamanism, a mysterious religious practice that played a crucial part in the curing of illnesses. Sorceresses who mastered ritual dances shibao [Gazette of Beiping, the special municipality] 2 (December 1928). 20  Bray, Technology and Gender, 143; Cass, Dangerous Women, 47. 21  For example, one Hu Niu suffered dystocia and asked Xiang Zi to invite Old Lady Chen, a local incense watcher, to treat her. The service cost 5 silver dollars. It seems that the incense watcher was the poor woman’s first choice not only because she was cheaper than a modern doctor (who charged 20 silver dollars for each outpatient service) but also because her magical powers were revered. See Lao She, Rickshaw, 192–193.

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and gained magical powers, spiritual possession, and the vocabulary of spiritual chanting were invited by Manchu families to exorcise ghosts and comfort the sick. Housewives and young girls respected sorceresses in ceremonies and inquired about messages from spirits.22 Manchu shamanesses and Chinese witch doctors, despite their disparate skills, were probably the medical professionals most trusted by women. Reform-oriented news media highlighted the use of witch doctors as a social problem. Yet, their reports gave testimony to the popular faith in witch doctors’ magical powers and spiritual healing abilities. A Widow Kou, for instance, hung a picture of a god on a wall and communicated with it when she treated her patients, writing down prescriptions dictated by the deity.23 Another woman declared that she was possessed by the Earth Goddess (Tu Nainai) and gained the power to cure illnesses, making her quite popular in her neighborhood inside Dongzhi Gate.24 Yet another, Yan Chen Shi, said she was the Second Fairy of Wutai Mountain and opened a clinic in her home. The police prohibited her practice because she used incense ash and holy paper, which the authorities considered a deceptive and illicit business practice.25 New elites in late Qing and early Republican-era Beijing treated many traditional cultural practices as disruptive of and detrimental to the modernization process oriented toward science, democracy, and capitalism. The professional women’s appeal to ordinary females also aroused fear and suspicion among the authorities, for those women exemplified heretical tendencies and antireform behavior. The police thus outlawed witch doctors and religious practitioners and punished violators.26 Women who inherited their family tradition or acquired an opportunity to learn the needed skills were able to establish themselves as fortune-tellers or midwives. Fortune-tellers always adopted powerful nicknames and applied unique techniques to gain credibility with clients. Grandmother Wang, a suburban woman who claimed to be the Heavenly Dragon and Holy Mother (Longtian Shengmu), predicted the gender of babies for the pregnant wives of nobles and officials during the Guangxu reign (1875– 1908). Because she bribed court eunuchs to give her personal information about her notable customers, her fortune-telling was uncannily accurate and won her great fame.27 Those who were curious about aspects of their everyday lives would consult street prophets whose methods included “examining the face” (xiangmian), “disassembling the character” (chaizi), and Elder, Old Peking, 156–157. Beijing nübao, 25 July 1906. 24  Chenzhong bao, 26 June 1917. 25  Chenbao, 18 May 1926. 26  Chenbao, 13 November 1925; 16 January, 18 May 1926. 27  He Gangde and Shen Taimo, Hamengji, chunming menglu, Donghua suolu, 162–163. 22  23 

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“selecting a stick” (chouqian).28 A reporter for the Shuntian shibao observed in 1913 an old Manchu woman who, buried in fortune-telling books, sat in a four-wheeled cart pushed by a young man and gave guidance with great confidence to those who consulted her.29 Whereas female fortune-tellers were rarely seen (street prophets were generally male), midwives were highly visible. During the 1910s and 1920s, midwives were still popular among ordinary people, sometimes more than obstetricians. This was not only because they charged less or because people had faith in conventional ways, but also because they played multiple roles as labor assistants, performers of rituals, psychologists, and family advisers. These women in most cases were elderly, clean, nice-looking, eloquent, and affable. People called them “auspicious grandmothers-in-law” (jixiang laolao), or, less respectfully, “stabilizing grannies” (wenpo). A sign hung on the front door would read “Light Cart and Speedy Horse” (“Qingche kuaima”) or “Lady XX Delivers Babies” (“Moushi shouxi”). The midwife’s procedure started with “recognizing the door” (renmen), the initial visit to the would-be mother that usually took place three or four weeks before the delivery. Guided by the midwife, the family prepared a long list of necessary items such as scissors, cloth, a basin, a mirror, towels, soap, a heater, candles, paper money, and a variety of foods. Some were necessary for the birth and others pertained to ritual. After the delivery, the midwife would return for the third-day bath (xisan), a display of power justified by Manchu custom.30 On that day, female relatives, neighbors, and friends would gather to congratulate the family and shower the newborn with small gifts. The baby-washing ceremony was conducted in the afternoon by the midwife and attended by all the female family members as well as guests. On the table outside the bedroom, the images of thirteen female deities who served as guardians of women and children were displayed and revered, while in the bedroom where the new mother rested the God and Goddess of the Bed (Kanggong and Kangmu) were worshipped. After paying respect to all the deities, the midwife, sitting on the bed and holding the baby, requested the guests to “add things to the basin” (tianpen). The midwife cheered as everyone added a spoonful of water along with coins, nuts, eggs, or dried fruits, plus their good wishes, into a basin containing the water of locust branches and catnip leaves. If dates and longans were given, she would say “wish to have sons early” (“zaoer lizi”) or “longan, longan, champion in all three examinations” (“guiyuan, guiyuan, lianzhong Huang Zonghan, Tianqiao wangshi lu, 108–112. Shuntian shibao, 17 July 1913. 30  Yang Xichun, Manzu fengsu kao, 183–184. 28  29 

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sanyuan”). When she had collected all the offerings, she would observe the baby and add more auspicious words, such as “wash your head, you will become a king or a noble” (“xixi tou, zuo wanghou”) or “wash your waist, your offspring will be one generation higher than the other” (“xixi yao, yibei daobi yibei gao”). Subsequently, she would use all the prepared objects to bless the baby’s intelligence, looks, health, and future, finally concluding her ceremony with the burning of symbolic money and divine images. The resulting ashes were wrapped in red paper and hidden under the bed as protection for the mother and baby. For the twohour service, the midwife earned a regular fee from the newborn’s family, plus tips that guests left in the basin and all the food presented to the deities. Yang Nianqun noticed that midwives in early twentieth-century Beijing served as social, rather than professional, authorities responsible for recognizing and assessing newborns in family and community hierarchies and harmonizing relationships between the newborns and their family members.31 From the Ming dynasty on, the aunts and grannies who established independent professions outside men’s control, and whose expertise was needed and respected by the female population, were targets of male elites. What irritated elites most were the grannies’ heterodox beliefs and practices, which appealed to ordinary women. The grannies were seen as interlopers in other peoples’ homes who spread news and ideas, thereby breaking the established social restrictions. Their visits were regarded by men in the gentry class as dangerous and misleading because the secluded housewives and their daughters could lose their sense of chastity and self-discipline through this contact. Aunts and grannies developed networks and cultures through the topics, language, gossip, and religious beliefs that most shared. Many an elite family set rules restricting their women’s interactions with aunts and grannies. In Ming literature, aunts and grannies were portrayed as gossiping, deceitful, greedy, and seductive. They were sometimes kept away by elite families because of their reputation as troublemakers.32 During the late Qing and early Republican periods, however, the continuing practices of aunts and grannies presented a distinctive threat. Elites’ criticism of violating the moral order gradually gave way to condemnation for impeding progress toward urban reforms. The spatial mobility and social contact of the old-fashioned female professionals were 31  Yang Nianqun, “Minguo chunian Beijing de shengsi kongzhi yu kongjian zhuanhuan” [The control of life and death and the change of space in early Republican Beijing], in Yang Nianqun, Kongjian, jiyi, shehui zhuanxing, 131–207. On the issue of midwifery, also see Lowe, The Adventures of Wu, 6–25; Cheng Shanqing, Tianqiao shihua, 142. 32  Lian Kuoru, Jianghu congtan, 448. For the functions of aunts and grannies and the elites’ responses, see Yi Ruolan, Sangu liupo.

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less of a concern than their services, which might distract lower-class women from scientific enlightenment and nationalist undertakings. Female reformers during the late Qing criticized aunts and grannies for their outdated customs and discouraged lower-class women from consulting them. They regarded grannies’ practices as an obstruction to modern science and education, and their duping of female customers a sign of Chinese women’s backwardness and stupidity. One article in the 1906 Beijing Women’s Daily attacked witch doctor Widow Kou’s practice as “deceiving the masses with goblin words” and requested police intervention.33 Another story in the paper was about a pregnant woman who hired a midwife to examine a pain in her abdomen. The midwife didn’t ask the woman when she was due and initiated the labor prematurely, killing her. The editor was so furious that she said this was an example of “murdering people for money.”34 It was not merely these practices that disturbed reformers; the trust women placed in grannies was the real problem. Reformers believed that they had to fight the prevailing cultural forces that kept women ignorant, ritualistic, and in a premodern state. Working on the Streets Unskilled women who were driven by poverty—typically the family’s primary breadwinners—had to sell their labor on the street. Their husbands might be dead, absent, handicapped, or addicted to opium or gambling, so these women had to take otherwise untenable work and make themselves vulnerable to public scrutiny. One honest job available to these women was pulling rickshaws. During the early twentieth century, rickshaws provided the city’s main form of transportation, and nearly 20 percent of the population was associated with this business.35 Although women were rare in this trade, they became increasingly visible during the 1920s. Mr. Zhang, a journalist, was shocked by the fact that destitute women, particularly Manchus, competed openly with their male colleagues in this trade. He rode a rickshaw from Tianqiao and, believing the puller to be too exhausted to cross a bridge, complained about the slow pace—but the puller began to cry. It turned out that the puller was a middle-aged woman with a scarf covering her head. She told Zhang that she was a Manchu and had lost her husband. One of her sons was in the army and the other was sick. She had to earn an income by pulling her son’s rickshaw or her family would have to resort to begging.36 In another case, Woman Huang lost her husband and had to Beijing nübao, 25 July 1906. Beijing nübao, 10 August 1907. 35  Li Jinghan, “Beijing lache de kugong” [Rickshaw pullers in Beijing], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 94–97. 36  Chenbao, 10 June 1921. 33  34 

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support her old and sick parents-in-law. She rented a rickshaw through a friend’s acquaintance and became a puller. She disguised herself as a man but could not compete with male pullers on the street.37 Sometimes, female rickshaw workers were unable to arrange their children’s day care and took them to work. A Mr. Zhao once hired a rickshaw pulled by a mother and followed by her son.38 Rickshaw pullers in Beijing were divided into three ranks: monthly rental, tagged, and normal. Those in the first category worked for wealthy families and received regular pay. They were young, strong, and neatly dressed, and they had new rickshaws. The second group included those licensed to pull foreigners. They were able to speak foreign languages to some degree. The third group, to which women apparently belonged, was composed of older or poorer workers with shabby rickshaws and unkempt clothes. They worked only during the daytime and charged less because of their slow pace and unpleasant conditions. They paid a third or a fourth of their income to rent the rickshaw and made 10 to 12 yuan per month.39 For some poor women, street vending or garbage recycling provided alternatives. Sometimes, these two occupations intersected. Street vending didn’t require a large capital investment or specialty, and vendors could work near their homes and look after their children. A young widow, for instance, who resisted her mother-in-law’s intention to send her to a brothel, sold vegetables on the street.40 Poor women also developed an effective way to collect recyclable wastes. They walked through streets and alleyways, yelling “Exchanging junk for matches!” Since the late Qing, povertystricken women of various ages had found a livelihood in the recycling trade. Their voices haunted streets and alleyways all over the city. In the area around Desheng Gate, even teenaged girls were involved in vending and recycling.41 An investigation by a YMCA social service department in one Beijing district found that the wives of rickshaw pullers usually scrounged for junk in the street. These women in rags recycled wastepaper or sold candy and small toys. Female junk collectors were ranked low in the hierarchy of the city’s recycling industry. They traded paper, cartons, boxes, and rags for soap and matches. The paper and cartons went to be recycled; bigger rags were sent to shoe shops for making shoes; rags in strips were made into materials for floor mops and sold at the rag market.42 Chenbao, 10 November 1920. Chenbao, 23 March 1921. 39  Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 74; Liang Guojian, Gudu Beijing shehui xiang, 174–179; Deng Yunxiang, Zenbu Yanjing xiangtu ji, 2:498–502. 40  Chenbao, 22 May 1921. 41  Beijing nübao, 7 May 1908. 42  Chenbao, 26 January 1920; Zhai Hongqi, “Lao Beijing de jietuo xiangwei.” 37  38 

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A street job created by lower-class women was “patching the tatters” (fengqiong), or mending clothes. One “bamboo-leaf poem” runs, “Carrying a basket and yelling ‘patching clothes,’ sewing women boasted about their fine fingers.”43 These street workers made impromptu stalls by laying blankets on the ground outside shops, hotels, and bathhouses and getting jobs from rickshaw pullers, porters, street artists, peddlers, and shop clerks who were either single or separated from their wives. They patched rags and socks while watching their children, earning a small income for their families.44 Female Beggars Female refugees and homeless women who were unable to work because they were too young or too old, ill, or disabled might become street beggars. The beggars’ community in Beijing was large, well-organized, and powerful. The beggars’ guild was called the “poor family” (qiong jiamen), and it controlled several groups of beggars identified by the colors of their scarves. The story about these colored scarves goes that the Ming founder, Zhu Yuanzhang, was once saved by two beggars on the street and later rewarded one with a yellow stick and the other with a blue stick, which symbolized the granting of imperial permission to beggars. The head of the guild was thus honored as the “head of the stick” (gantou). The head of the stick established the guild rules, assigned begging territories, and prevented territorial encroachments. He collected his share from each subordinate and determined the assessments levied on merchants, storekeepers, and wealthy families.45 Professional beggars usually received training in singing. They made up songs on the spot and turned them into curses if they didn’t receive payment. Other gimmicks included “obtaining by deception” (pianqi; making up tragic stories to gain the sympathy of passersby) and “terrifying begging” (etao; hitting one’s chest with a brick to generate feelings of mercy). Female beggars were known as the nübozi (female faction) or pai pude (those who knock on the doors of shops) and had to obey the male authority Cheng Shanqing, Tianqiao shihua, 405. Cheng Shanqing, Tianqiao shihua, 405–409; Gao Fengshan and Yue Jin, “Pinmin shengji shiling” [Miscellaneous records of the poor], in Zhang Wenhai, Chengnan shizhui, 87–89; Zhai Hongqi, “Lao Beijing de jietuo xiangwei”; and Huang Zonghan, Tianqiao wangshi lu, 97–98. 45  In 1906, the beggars’ guild demanded a fee of 10 taels from average-size stores that opened for business. Well-to-do families were assessed at weddings and funerals. Those who refused to pay would find large crowds of beggars at their front gates, and their event would be ruined. See Gamble, Peking, 274–275; Liang Guojian, Gudu Beijing shehui xiang, 180–188; and Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 228–229. 43  44 

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of the beggars’ guild. The main strategy of female begging groups was sapo (playing damnation). When they targeted shops, they would curse people’s names, damage their property, instigate fights, or cut their own faces or heads in order to scare the shopkeepers away. This means of extortion was so overwhelming that shopkeepers usually gave in without protest. At other times, however, these women used their skills to beg on the street. Wrapped in black scarves, they clapped bamboo planks in rhythm with their singing or storytelling. Women who begged at temple fairs were known as zhuigan (chasing ones). They dressed and behaved better than did their sapo sisters and offered minor services to pedestrians, such as dusting off their clothes or lighting their cigarettes. Two Westerners were amused by the services of these chasing beggars: “The brushing-off-women do a brisk trade as they flap new arrivals with the rag dusters, hoping to earn a few coppers for adding to silk robes as much dirt as they flick off.”46 During the early Republican period, poverty, natural disasters, and wars drove more women into the begging trade. A large number of female beggars were believed to be from fallen bannermen’s families. Having become accustomed to a leisurely way of life, these women had no skills, and begging was their sole means of survival.47 Female beggars became increasingly aggressive as it became more difficult to get alms. They occupied every intersection in the southern parts of the city, arousing concern among residents. The city police tried in vain to keep them out of sight.48 Some young female beggars even used flirtation to get a few coins.49 Most women beggars were destitute and had no other means of survival. George Kates, an American student who went to Beijing to study the Chinese language and culture in the early 1930s, described what might have been the most common way that women begged on the street: Then there were the lusty or crippled beggars, all surprisingly cheerful; or else women overtaken by some calamity, and burdened with their children. The history of their sad case, written in large Chinese characters, would be set out on a sheet of dirty paper weighted with stones and spread upon the ground before them. One read; and left a copper or two.50

Begging was not a type of work, yet it provided rootless female immigrants and destitute urban women an alternative if they were unable 46  Beiping minshe, Beiping zhinan, bian 10; Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo jianghu miwen, 2; Bredon and Mitrophanow, The Moon Year, 110. 47  For female begging, see Tang Youshi, “Qigai” [The beggars], in Shu Yi et al., Fengsu quwen, 538–544. 48  Shuntian shibao, 24 January, 19 March 1913. 49  Shuntian shibao, 7 February 1914. 50  Kates, The Years That Were Fat, 101.

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to find paid jobs or lacked another means of earning a living. Begging implied their exclusion from the larger urban employment market and the underdevelopment of social welfare institutions. Homelessness also challenged the mainstream belief that women were associated with marriage and the family and provided an example of women’s using public spaces for survival. On the streets, female beggars found temporary shelters and networks that provided at least minimal support and a sense of personal worth. Young homeless women didn’t conform to any accepted standard of conventional beauty or fashion, thereby negating their femininity. Their anonymity and eccentricity made them less-obvious targets for sexual harassment. Yet, women’s begging overshadowed the city’s progress and damaged the overall image of women, thus becoming a topic of discussion among politically aware elites. From the late Qing on, urban authorities endeavored to upgrade the city’s charitable institutions so that they could absorb the women who had become lost in the city’s political and social transformation. Businesswomen If poverty, dislocation, and political instability forced lower-class women to enter street occupations, the Republican ideal of gender equality, the destruction of conventional norms and restrictions by the revolution and reforms, and the flourishing of Western culture inspired middle-class women to imagine self-sufficiency and public presence. Modernization inevitably created more job opportunities for women. In the early Republican period, women’s presence in the workforce was gradually accepted. While lower-class girls could work in factories, restaurants, theaters, or shops, the daughters of the educated middle class found jobs in banks, hospitals, and schools. For instance, in the late 1910s, the Chinese Women’s Commercial Savings Bank of Peking was opened, and C. Z. Wang, cashier and submanager of the Peking Bank, became its director. Twenty-three women were hired as clerks or managers. Because of the lack of women in banking, Wang and her associates participated in an intensive training program on internal management.51 Similarly, by 1935, 18 percent of the employees of the more than 120 barbershops in the city were women.52 The tendency of female self-sufficiency was best demonstrated by the businesses owned and managed by women. In Beijing, the “maid inn” (laomadian) was probably the most influential and well-connected female enterprise.53 The maid inn was a woman-run job-hunting agency and temporary Seton, Chinese Lanterns, 211–212. Ma Zhiyang, Lao Beijing nüxing zhinan, 274. 53  In the 1930s, each maid inn was required to register with the Bureau of Social Work, and its name was changed to the “institute for introducing maids” (yonggong jieshaosuo) 51  52 

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lodging place for those seeking domestic service positions. The owners of maid inns were usually experienced maidservants who had saved their wages to open the business. Lodgers had three free probationary days and paid the agency a commission fee plus their lodging expenses once they were employed. Afterward, the maid inn manager collected a “holiday reward” (jieqian) three times a year from the employer who used her service. The maid inn guaranteed the behavior of the women it recommended.54 In the 1930s, Mrs. Feng’s Institute for Introducing Maids was a reputable agency in the city. Its middle-aged manager, Mrs. Feng, had broad social connections and checked the background, skills, and experience of each maid before providing a reference.55 According to one study, Beijing had more than a thousand maid inns, each hosting about nine job candidates. Nearly ten thousand maidservants sought work through these agencies.56 The phenomenon, however, was criticized by urban elites as a social evil known as jiantouhu (tiger of reference). Newspapers and books reported stories of institutes that trained young job candidates to steal from employers, seduce their male masters, or seize power from the families they served. They were even condemned as having connections to the guild that trafficked in women (zhazihang) and the abductions of young women.57 In 1916, for instance, the Beijing Police Department received an anonymous letter, likely from a local elite, that alleged that unemployed men and women at the home of maid inn manager Woman Jia gambled during the day and slept together at night. One corrupt official even paid Jia a monthly fee for access to young, pretty girls who became his maidservants/mistresses. The informant concluded that “most brokers in this trade are dishonest women.… Countrywomen cannot find domestic service jobs without their recommendations. These malicious women thus make things difficult for those who are young and good-looking and compel them to do sex work. In so doing, they can fulfill their greedy desires.”58

by Mayor Yuan Liang. See Deng, “Liushi nianqian Beijingren jingji shenghuo zashu” [Miscellanea on Beijing’s economic life sixty years ago], in Beijing yanshan chubanshe, Jiujing renwu yü fengqing, 180–195. 54  Guo Licheng, Gudu yiwang, 152. 55  Chenbao, 29 August 1926; Deng Yunxiang, Wenhua gucheng jiushi. 56  Yun Xi, “Qingmo minchu Beijing de wailai renkou yanjiu” [Study of immigrants in late Qing and early Republican Beijing], in Beijingshi dangan guan, Dangan yu Beijingshi guoji xueshu taolunhui lunwenji, 2:301–317. 57  Chenbao, 23 May, 26 November 1926; Lian Kuoru, Jianghu congtan, 447–451. 58  “Jingshi jingchating guanyu shoudao neiyou yiqu jienei nügong jieshaoren Jiashi qiangpo funü maiyin jian de niminghen” [Anonymous letter from the Inner Right First District, which is about Maidservant Introducer Woman Jia forcing women to sell sex, received by the Beijing Police Department], in Beipingshi jingchaju dangan, J 181:18:06354 (August 1916), kept in the Beijing Municipal Archive.

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Yet, a police investigation found only old maids at Jia’s place. The accusation of gambling and illicit sex was groundless.59 Aside from maid inns, women opened shops and other businesses in public spaces. Most women in the commercial sector were associates of their husbands or male relatives and didn’t manage the businesses. Those raised in business families or married to businessmen could gain management experience; if the husband died or left, the wife might even take over the business. Mrs. Li, née Wang, for instance, who became the manager of the Deyi store after her husband died, hired her nephew as an associate. Another young widow, with five children, ran a rickshaw rental business in her neighborhood. Her father-in-law was blind and her mother-in-law assisted her by washing the rickshaw cushions.60 In the early Republican period, the most celebrated businesswoman in Beijing was probably Jin Xiuqing, a retired courtesan who had married a musician and opened a bathhouse for women south of Qian Gate. In 1912, the Beijing police legalized commercial bathhouses for women but restricted them to the red-light district and allowed only prostitutes to visit. Jin confronted tremendous criticism and derision from the conservative community when she established the city’s first women’s bathhouse, the Cleansing Body Women’s Bathhouse (Runshen nü zaotang). To avoid suspicion and scandal, she hired only female attendants who were young and properly trained, with specialties in haircutting, bath assistance, massage, and conversation. Although their wages were not high, they received generous tips. Jin was shrewd, charismatic, and entrepreneurial. She set up a counter for selling imported cosmetics. Her clean and luxurious facilities catered to the tastes of wealthy women. From the outset, her patrons were mostly first- and second-class prostitutes. “Decent women” (liangjia funü), concerned about their reputations, seldom stepped inside. If they did, they took cars or rickshaws and made sure they would not run into any acquaintances.61 In spite of the social bias against women who used commercial bath facilities, Jin’s business boomed. By 1935, there were eight women-only bathhouses in the city.62 The concern about women’s public bathhouses was one of morality rather than personal hygiene. Men condemned Jin’s bathhouse as an “offense against decency” (youshang fenghua), whereas enlightened reformers considered it a breakthrough in women’s public presence and social 59  “Jingshi jingchating guanyu shoudao neiyou yiqu jienei nügong jieshaoren jiashi qiangpuo funü maiyin yian de niminghen.” 60  Chenbao, 23 March 1925; Gamble, Peking, 331–332. 61  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese” [The different aspects of the small musical bands in Beijing], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao; Shuntian shibao, 7 June 1912; 20 October, 30 December 1914; 9 April 1915. 62  Ma Zhiyang, Lao Beijing nüxing zhinan, 274.

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opportunities. The editor of the Chenbao fukan derided the old-fashioned moral defenders who took young concubines themselves but were opposed to opportunities for women, such as bathhouses, mingling with men, coeducation, and mixed seating in theaters, as hypocrites and “ghosts disguised as gods” (guizhuang zhengshen). He defended his newspaper’s stance of supporting women’s public bathhouses but criticized Jin’s business specifically for offering opium to its customers. He contended that bathing was a hygienic requirement for both men and women but that women had a greater need because of physiological reasons and child rearing. He regretted that there was only one bathhouse for women in the city and that it was expensive. He argued that women had the right to bathe in public facilities and that bathhouses for women should not only be opened but become popular. Furthermore, he maintained that sexual misconduct was best prevented through education rather than restriction. Although prohibition of immoral behavior was sometimes necessary, he suggested that punishment for offenses should not be too extreme. He called on educated citizens to include women’s public bathhouses in the urban reform agenda and to support the addition of cleaner, more disciplined, and more beneficial bathhouses for women.63 The article underscores the debate among male elites about women’s presence in public and their use of public spaces. New elites encouraged women to enter the public domain and acquire the freedom of social interactions with men. In their eyes, women’s bathhouses were an indication of modern health and social progress inspired by the New Culture Movement and urban modernization. They attempted to transform both the city’s physical landscape and its traditional social mores to build a new and more Westernized city. Members of the old guard, however, regarded women’s schools, commercial establishments for women, and sexually integrated public places as hotbeds of immoral conduct and destroyers of long-established boundaries. Women’s bathhouses thus symbolized issues of women’s changing domains, the removal of gender restrictions, and modernization of the city. To conclude, women’s pursuing their livelihood in public places was more complicated than the simple dichotomy of distinct gendered spheres. For lower-class women, the border between the private home and the street was obscured by economic need. The urban crisis and the deterioration of the traditional family economy in the city forced many women to violate the labor division between the sexes and to fill occupations alongside men. These women were alienated from mainstream society because they exposed themselves to public view and sometimes earned the family’s primary income. Their work to some extent redefined 63 

Chenbao fukan, 19 February 1922.

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the concept of female dependency. The occupations or types of work they chose were perceived as offering some income and a means to the end of earning enough to meet the needs of the family. However, the street was still a male-dominated domain, where women could hardly compete. Excluded from the broader urban labor market, women were often forced into unskilled, poorly paid, and morally questionable jobs. Their economic struggles revealed the interdependence of class identity and gender identity. Their work in public places did little to elevate their social status. Women’s work was complex, even on the lower rungs of the economic ladder, and controversial. Women who made and sold handiwork still remained largely inside their homes, and so they were thought to glorify the notion of the feminine because their role as breadwinner did not interfere with their roles as mother, wife, and daughter. Their work was thus accepted and even rewarded by male elites. Maidservants constituted a unique group. They performed a role similar to that of housewives in the domestic realm, but because they worked for others, they were seen as employees. They occupied a low position in society and were considered a threat to family harmony. Grannies and businesswomen were highly visible and professional, and their work helped build networks of women. They were revered or reviled, depending on the social context. Women who worked as rickshaw pullers, peddlers, seamstresses, or beggars were considered social outcasts because their work on the streets violated social norms. They were problematic inasmuch as they brought women’s economic hardships and vulnerabilities into the public domain and challenged notions of gender and urban reform. Women’s economic endeavors demonstrated how relevant and crucial urban public spaces were to their subsistence and how their use of these spaces affected their image and identity. Public spaces provided a vital resource for lowerclass women who desperately sought to establish economic and social connections. Urban scholars agree that women in the middle-American cities of the twentieth century were never as much the captives of their homes as were the women of suburbia.64 Lynn M. Appleton has revealed two distinctive types of patriarchal regimes in the central section of New York City and on Long Island, finding that women in the urban setting more often had paid jobs, enjoyed more opportunities to interact with others in public spaces,

64  Susan Saegert, “Masculine Cities and Feminine Suburbs: Polarized Ideas, Contradictory Realities,” in Stimpson et al., Women and the American City, 93–108; Gerda R. Wekerle, “Women in the Urban Environment,” in Stimpson et al., Women and the American City, 185–211.

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and experienced more social stimulation and challenge.65 Unlike modern New York City, a capitalist fortress that was home to a large institutionalized female workforce, Beijing had few women factory workers. Still, the city offered poor women more alternatives than did the rural regions. Lower-class women, less bound by customs related to the family, kinship, and morality, discovered various opportunities for escape. Nonetheless, Beijing at the beginning of the twentieth century was not yet a modern metropolis like Paris, London, or New York, where urban planners attempted to create “garden cities” to address social disorders.66 The distinction between downtown workplaces, which were the domains of male wage earners, and suburban homes, where women were confined, had not yet been identified, and men and women lived and sometimes worked side by side within the city walls. The “natural” or seemingly unplanned coexistence of people in the city actually provided women with easier access to work, especially after the ideology of distinct gender spheres was overturned after the Revolution of 1911. Women’s work in late Qing and early Republican Beijing took the form of formal paid work, self-employment, unpaid domestic work, and income-generating hobbies. Jobs in shops or factories were scarce in the city; domestic service was also paid work, but was less regular and was part of the domestic realm; self-employment could take place either inside or outside the home and was flexible regarding schedules and income; hobbies were paid work at home and a subset of the selfemployment category; unpaid domestic work usually meant child care or other household chores and could overlap other categories. Domestic tasks and skills, for example, could lay the foundation for piecework or other paid work. The cross-classification of pay and location that characterized women’s work made the preservation of gender-based inside and outside spheres difficult to sustain.67 Women’s use of public spaces to earn a living was accelerated by the political transition after 1912 and the ongoing modern transformation. Laboring women, who gained new freedoms but lost their sense of security and dependency, increasingly worked outside of their homes or built their business connections from their homes. The ability to manipulate different spaces for economic gain was a strength of lower-class women, who always elicited or even defied spatial and social boundaries.68 Traditional women’s 65  Lynn M. Applenton, “The Gender Regimes of American Cities,” in Garber and Turner, Gender in Urban Research. 66  Wilson, The Sphinx in the City, 100–120. 67  For the definitions of women’s work, see Rachel A. Rosenfeld, “What Is Work? Comparative Perspectives from the Social Sciences,” in Entwisle and Henderson, ReDrawing Boundaries, 51–66. 68  The example of working-class women’s flexible use of urban spaces for living can be

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occupations were still found in the street, yet women began to generate more jobs for themselves. Urban public spaces served as workplaces where women could socialize with clients and others and were thereby turned into everyday spaces. Although these women faced social discrimination, they were able to make public spaces more inclusive. For them, the street was not a borrowed space but a permanent source of economic activity. The strangers who used their services or bought their goods were considered useful, not objects of fear. Of course, women in public spaces were not a homogenous group: there were female teachers, nurses, factory workers, and businesswomen, but also grannies, junk recyclers, seamstresses, beggars, and rickshaw pullers. Class status and occupation often determined women’s images and public acceptability. Despite the fact that women of various classes took gender-specific jobs, some were considered to have more decent, valuable, or modern ones than others. New cultural elites, for instance, normally encouraged women to take Western-type occupations while discrediting women’s jobs associated with unwomanly behavior, sexual service, or unorthodox rituals.

found in nineteenth-century Boston. See Deutsch, Women and the City.

Figure 3: Map showing poverty levels in Republican Beijing.

THREE

Neighborhood

A neighborhood could represent many things to a laboring-class woman: work site, social hub, buffer zone between her home and the city, and source of immediate support. The borders between homes and the surrounding alleyways and streets were always obscured because the lives of most lower-class women unfolded primarily beyond the household and even the courtyard. These laboring-class women might interact with neighbors and friends, look for opportunities to make money, care for children, bargain with vendors, enjoy street shows, or confront trespassers. They felt more secure and well-connected in their residential areas than in the city at large. Housewives could rebel against their abusive parents-in-law or husbands, defend their own well-being, claim their rights and territories, and win sympathy and support in the street. Yet, this was also where women could become victims of crime, and where they could act out their own dramas of greed and lust. The streets held promise but were also dangerous and cruel. A neighborhood is a community, a small-scale and spatially bound area within which residents share certain characteristics. “Community” is a term connoting warmth and solidarity. It is a relational rather than a categorical concept, defined both by material social relations and by symbolic meanings.1 This chapter explores the social dimension of ordinary women who built networks and sought support in their neighborhood communities. Lower-class women demanded communication, friendship, and mutual aid. Their emotional ties extended from their multifamily compounds to the households of nearby neighbors. This chapter explains how women fought for justice and sought moral support and mediation from their neighbors, often pursuing conflicting goals and competing for resources and opportunities. The chapter also shows that social tensions exacerbated by economic pressure turned the neighborhood into a battle zone where women became the prey of criminals, ran McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 100.

1 

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away from oppressive households, or protested abuse through suicide. Here, I use case studies to examine the ambiguous nature of neighborhood space and reveal how lower-class women sought to balance their gains and losses in their use of residential areas. The Construction of Women’s Neighborhoods In traditional Beijing, women used their neighborhoods in distinctive ways. Elite women might regard the walls of the family compound as the margins of their universe. Their public presence was occasional, concealed, and carefully guarded. Confucian separatism and orthodox indoctrination circumscribed women’s lives outside the home, although traveling with their families or socializing with friends and neighbors was possible. Their communities were built on shared literary interests and the existing forms of social relations—notably the ties of kinship, neighborhoods, and places of origin—and operated in private. Dorothy Ko identified three kinds of women’s communities based on membership and activities in seventeenthcentury Jiangnan. A domestic community was composed of mothers or mothers-in-law and their female relatives; all members were related by kinship ties. A social community was made up of a group of related women and their neighbors and friends who were not related. A public community was publicly visible and was established based on the publications and literary fame of its members. Women’s communities constituted an organizational basis for women’s culture that provided elite women with common interests, social networks, and spheres of influence.2 Elite women generated barriers based on class status, literary interests, and the walled residential compounds that isolated them from lower-class women. By the early twentieth century, women’s seclusion was still the norm in upper-class Beijing households. Elite daughters might have gained permission from their parents to attend school, visit parks, or go to theaters, but they were usually chaperoned and separated from male strangers in public. The adage “Neither walk out of the front door nor even enter the second door” (“Damen buchu, ermen buru”) was still the motto of many women from bureaucratic or wealthy households who avoided the streets to protect their reputations. Liang Yen, the daughter of a Mongolian high official in Beijing, recalled that even as late as the 1920s her mother still refused to go shopping; instead, she purchased goods from visiting merchants or street peddlers within her family compound.3 Moreover, Lao She’s novel Neighbors describes two middle-class neighboring housewives

2  3 

Ko, Teachers of the Inner Chambers. Yen, Daughter of the Khans, 34–35.

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who never visited each other and used their maidservants to solve a dispute between their families.4 By comparison, lower-class women did not observe sharp distinctions between their homes and public spaces. Their homes were often small and crowded, so their domestic lives unfolded in courtyards, alleyways, and streets.5 The class distinction in women’s street freedom was noted by a foreign reporter in late Qing Beijing. “She [an upper-class daughter] must often envy the girls belonging to the coolie class,” the man remarked, “who, at all events, are allowed to roam about like chickens, and who can at least gain some slight knowledge of what is going on in the outside world.”6 Christine Stansell, who charted working-class women’s neighborhood relations and activities in nineteenth-century New York, contends that the daughters and wives of male immigrants didn’t value the bourgeois ideal of the private home. They formed attachments to one another and characterized the “tenement classes” through doing house chores together and borrowing and lending from one another.7 In Beijing, housework similarly brought laboring-class women into the milieu outside their four walls. They developed intimate connections by spending time together and visiting one another’s homes. Ethnicity also appears to have shaped women’s use of urban public spaces. The seclusion of females was generally a Han custom, and minority women were much less bound by it. Manchu women, for instance, had more freedom, and they regarded tours to temple fairs or scenic places part of normal life. A proverb that circulated in the south during the late Qing era described the Manchu girls’ outgoing tendency: “There are three treasures in Beijing. Roosters don’t crow, and dogs don’t bark. Girls of eighteen years are found everywhere on the streets.”8 “[Manchu women] were constantly seen in public,” Juliet Bredon noted in the last decade of the Qing dynasty, “walking with stately grace, accompanied by their servants. They gathered in groups, like birds of bright plumage, to gossip at temple fairs. They paid their visits or went to court in carts or chairs and one always had the chance of seeing a pretty face or a brilliant headdress through the window of a passing vehicle.”9 Manchus’ acknowledgment

Lao She, “Linjumen” [The neighbors], in Shu Yi, Lao She xiaoshuo jingdian, 4:352–361. The typical Beijing residence was called a “quadrangle courtyard” (siheyuan). Whereas middle-class families occupied a single house, working-class families had to share these compounds, also called “big mixed compounds” (dazayuan). See Tao Menghe, Beiping shenghuofei zhi fenxi, 60–71. 6  North China Herald, 20 May 1911. 7  Stansell, City of Women, 41–62. 8  Zen Zhizhong and You Deyan, Zhang Henshui shuo Beijing, 18. 9  Bredon, Peking, 66–67. 4  5 

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of their women’s higher social standing and ethnic lifestyle permitted women’s participation in street episodes. Where a woman lived also played a part in socialization. In old Beijing, the “quadrangle courtyard” (siheyuan) was the featured style of residential architecture. Since the Yuan, this one-story, four-sided cluster of houses surrounding a central courtyard was the typical dwelling of wealthy Beijingese. During Qing times, nobles’ and bureaucrats’ mansions and large quadrangle courtyards were mostly in the Inner City, whereas smaller ones, in conjunction with “compounds with houses on three sides” (sanheyuan) and “multifamily compounds [or enclosures]” (dazayuan), were built in the Outer City and to the north and south. After the collapse of the Manchu regime in 1912, many bannermen and bureaucrats lost their fortunes and had to rent out rooms of their residences for extra income, thereby turning their quadrangle courtyards into multifamily enclosures.10 Hanchao Lu revealed how the “lane neighborhoods” (linong) in Shanghai were constructed and transformed during the twentieth century. His research shows that, parallel to sweeping modernization, a traditional way of life unfolded around convenience stores, tailors, produce dealers, shoe repairmen, locksmiths, and peddlers. The everyday life that spread into the lane neighborhoods defined Shanghai.11 Compared with the women in Shanghai, lower-class Beijing women built their neighborhoods around multifamily enclosures. While elite and middleclass women in single-family compounds probably lacked contact with the outside world and mainly associated with their family members, friends, or servants within the front gate, women who lived in multifamily enclosures ignored privacy and interacted daily. In many cases, an entire family was squeezed into two rooms—a bedroom with a huge brick bed and another room used for dining and other purposes. There was no running water and no bathroom inside, so residents had to fetch water from a street well and shared a communal toilet in the corner of the courtyard. Many of the conditions in multifamily compounds were so decrepit that Zheng Zhenduo (1898–1958), a prominent scholar of Chinese literature, used such phrases as the “dark life in hell” to describe them. In contrast with parks, temples, and the historical architecture that conveyed the magnificent style and comfort of Beijing, Zheng regarded the multifamily compounds as the symbol of the city’s backwardness and poverty: If you have a chance to visit a multifamily compound, you will find over ten families are squeezed into a tiny courtyard. Children scrawl in 10  11 

Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi, 7:214–215. Lu, Beyond the Neon Lights.

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mud, and women who complain angrily all day long look wan and sallow. Occasionally, you will hear a cough from inside the house. The air is grimy, and you cannot stand it even for half a day if you don’t belong there. Those multifamily compounds are residences of manual laborers and rickshaw pullers. Some people assert that life in Beiping is enjoyable because the houses are spacious and courtyards deep, with plenty of fresh air and sunshine. Yet, it is noteworthy that this is the point of view of the middle and upper classes. Ninety percent of the population actually lives in the terrible multifamily compounds.12

Multifamily compounds were the immediate neighborhoods of laboring women. The residents of an enclosure could set aside a “mutual fund” (huzhujin) shared by twelve or more families who elected a fund manager to collect the monthly dues. Borrowers were determined through the casting of lots. The manager was usually a respectable older woman who had everyone’s confidence. Because the fund-society members were financially stressed, the money they pooled was significant for buying major merchandise or addressing emergency needs. The women in the compound tended to develop harmonious relationships. They watched one another’s children, shared special foods, sewed clothes for others, mediated disputes, chatted in the evenings, and kept keys for those who went out. Garbage collection and the cleaning of the central yard and alleyways were tasks assigned to each family in the compound and willingly shared by residents.13 Of course, life in the multifamily compound was not always peaceful. Quarrels between married couples and neighbors, husbands’ beatings of wives and children, and mothers-in-law’s abuse of their daughters-inlaw sometimes developed into bigger incidents. Lao She wrote a story of domestic abuse in a mixed enclosure during the 1920s and 1930s. The compound, called “Liu’s Family Courtyard,” contained more than twenty rooms. The protagonist, “I,” was a fortune-teller who lived with many other families in this complex. His neighbors—gardeners, stonemasons, and rickshaw workers—were so poor that their children went without pants during warm weather, and they complained about the 1.5-yuan monthly rent. The Wang family consisted of a father, son, daughter-inlaw, and daughter. The father, Old Wang, played the role of a motherin-law and mistreated his daughter-in-law. His son, a stonemason, and his daughter, a student, joined their father in bullying the young bride. Because wife beating was common, people in the compound didn’t Zheng Zhenduo, “Beiping,” in Jiang Deming, Beijing hu, 1:270–271. Bai Hequn, Lao Beijing de juzhu, 67–70, 84–90, 96–104; Hua Mengyan and Zhang Hongjie, Lao Beijing de shenghuo [Lives in old Beijing] (Jinan: Shandong huabao chubanshe, 2000), 116–117. 12  13 

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interfere in domestic disputes unless the consequences seemed serious. One day, the young woman spilled rice on the ground because of an act of sabotage by Old Wang’s daughter, which sparked a merciless beating from her husband. Neighbor Aunt Zhang the Second tried to comfort her, but the woman hanged herself. The woman’s death cost Old Wang a hundred yuan for funeral expenses and compensation for the victim’s family. In addition, Old Wang’s family accused Aunt Zhang the Second of persuading the young woman to commit suicide.14 The tale indicates the extent to which residents in a multifamily compound were tied together and showed concern for their neighbors. Even women who suffered abuse could support one another and receive comfort from kindhearted neighbors. As time went on, lower-class women expanded their everyday space beyond their compound walls, privatizing the public spaces nearby and “transform[ing] what were initially strangers into personally known others.”15 Neighbors were connected by varying levels of intimacy. The multifamily compound was their instant neighborhood and the source of their most important support. Families sharing the same alleyways constituted a less-intimate secondary circle. Women from better-off families who lived in single-family or less densely populated compounds might lack the collectivism shared by women of the lower class, but they also possibly became well acquainted with their female neighbors. Generally, becoming part of a neighborhood was crucial for laboring-class women’s survival in coping with heavy chores, abuse from husbands and mothersin-law, material shortages, and loneliness. Women chatted, provided comfort to the frustrated and ailing, inquired about children, scolded lazy or abusive husbands, and borrowed and lent various household items. They greeted one another at neighborhood stores, street wells, or local markets. A Qing writer praised poor neighbors who had become “closer than family members in reciprocally caring for the sick and rescuing the troubled.”16 Similarly, the Beijing old-timer Li Jingwu recalled that Beijing residents during the 1920s and 1930s maintained amicable relationships with their neighbors and frequently offered one another financial support or assistance with chores. Troublemakers might become targets of the entire neighborhood and could be ousted.17 In addition, a contributor to Beijing Women’s Daily advised ordinary women not to gossip because rumors twisted the truth and caused hostility between families. 14  Lao She, “Liujia dayuan” [The Liu family compound], in Shu Yi, Lao She xiaoshuo jingdian, 4:323–332. 15  Lofland, A World of Strangers, 122. 16  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi, 7:215. 17  Li Jingwu, Beiping fengtu zhi, 138–139.

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According to her account, maidservants spied on their neighbors for their mistresses. Elite housewives, though they didn’t call on their neighbors very often, would get news and share it with their husbands. Ordinary housewives, however, visited one another often and liked to gossip about other families. Apparently, they believed what they heard from others and shared exaggerated stories with their husbands, creating disputes in their neighborhoods.18 Although there was a bias against visiting and gossiping among female neighbors, the author recognized the existence and power of these women’s communities. What the author didn’t mention was that gossip by maidservants and housewives created a flow of information among neighboring women who might use their men or masters in their own defense. A counterpart of this gossip-oriented women’s community can be found in Margery Wolf’s study that described village women in Taiwan whose gossip while doing laundry on the riverbank helped generate public opinion against the abuse of wives and daughters-in-law.19 Gossip was an effective channel of communication through which neighboring women not only disseminated news but also assessed other people’s behavior. Talking about family issues facilitated a consensus on right and wrong and thus helped lead to a ban on abuse and misconduct. At the very least, these conversations satisfied women’s curiosity and strengthened their emotional ties. Researchers recorded the following dialogue between two housewives in a mixed compound: “Big Aunt, have you heard about the second daughter of my nextdoor neighbor?” “No, I haven’t.” “She has found a suitor. The guy works in a match factory, and his looks are not bad. Except for being a little bit older and talking like a woman, he is quite impressive—tall and handsome.” “Big Sister, don’t talk about others behind their backs. They are all our neighbors, anyway.” “Don’t you know that this girl is not an easy person? I have heard that even before her wedding, she has started collecting things for her family. She took things like lids, pot holders, paper, and a flashlight from her fiancé’s family. Compared to her, the guy is even stingier. You could not find this kind of couple anywhere else in the world. They want to split one penny eight ways to spend. If they live together, my God, you could not find anywhere else in the world another couple that is more frugal.” “Big Sister, I have to go home to light my stove. Otherwise, my husband will blame me for listening to your gossip when he comes back.”20 Beijing nübao, 1 July 1906. Wolf, Women and the Family in Rural Taiwan. 20  Bai Hequn, Lao Beijing de juzhu, 83. 18  19 

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Obviously, Big Aunt was cautious about interfering in other people’s lives. Big Sister, however, was more talkative and interested in other people’s affairs. Their gossip, if spread through the neighborhood, could have resulted in pressure on the young couple regarding their pennypinching habits. Women’s neighborhood communities, bounded territorially and dominated by face-to-face exchanges, were informal but supportive, providing women with information, mutual understanding, and a sense of solidarity. Urban scholars typically believe that, for women, the neighborhood is an important place for satisfying social and emotional needs and for providing economic assistance and opportunities for political mobilization.21 Here, we might need to note that in early twentieth-century Beijing, women’s neighborhood communities were possibly class-based and limited in scale. Housewives in multifamily compounds might find it difficult to befriend women in large, single-home compounds. The fragmentation of the city into class-based neighborhoods in preindustrialized Beijing was not as apparent as in modern Western cities, yet social status, educational levels, occupations, and wealth still formed barriers in women’s socialization. Feminist geographer Linda McDowell pointed out that “communities are context dependent, contingent, and defined by power relations; their boundaries are created by mechanisms of inclusion and exclusion.”22 Laboring-class women most often discussed rent, inflation, job opportunities, child care, or traditional ways of treating disease, topics that didn’t inspire middle-class women, who were more occupied by issues of education, professional careers, social reforms, fashion, and recreational activities. The neighborhood communities of poor urban women had their own cultures and economic conditions, which set criteria or characteristics of exclusion against women of well-to-do families. Having their own specific jargon, concerns, rituals, and social activities qualified lower-class women for inclusion in neighborhood communities based on shared experiences in their multifamily compounds. Street Fights Neighborhood streets provided laboring-class women with both a space for cooperation and socialization and an arena where disputes arose and were resolved. Daily arguments over children, debts, gossip, scandals, extramarital affairs, and business rivalries were fuses that were easily 21  Gordana Rabrenovic, “Women and Collective Action in Urban Neighborhoods,” in Garber and Turner, Gender in Urban Research, 77–96; Crenson, Neighborhood Politics; Fischer, To Dwell among Friends; Ida Susser, “Working-Class Women, Social Protest, and Changing Ideologies,” in Bookman and Morgen, Women and the Politics of Empowerment, 257–271. 22  McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 100.

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ignited. In these situations, a neighbor woman could serve as a mediator, accomplice, target, or spectator. Most arguments arose from the family unit and could escalate to involve cursing and name-calling. Cursing would draw a crowd and would damage the antagonist’s reputation. An English traveler offered a brilliant account of a woman in Beijing in 1922: “She does not limit her audience to one; she does not get out of breath but carries on with a continuous shrill scream of vindictive (I presume) language which embraces the immediate neighborhood, the street and, it would seem ultimately, the quarter of the city.”23 Cursing could be a prelude to violence. Lower-class women were rarely constrained by what might be considered genteel manners. Their difficult lives forced them to be tough, aggressive, and hot-tempered. But, conflicts between neighbors were secondary to street fights that originated within the family. Women usually had worthy motivations for fighting: to resist abuse, punish cheating husbands, protect their children, or defend their financial interests. Their fights could be real and result in injuries, but sometimes they were merely symbolic, not intended to lead to intervention by the police or others.24 Most fights that were brought into the public domain were exposed in order to seek favorable public opinion on domestic issues. Hostility between a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law provides the most instructive example of woman-centered violence. Daughters-in-law often rebelled against their tyrannical mothers-in-law and exposed their abuse to public judgment. In one incident, a Mrs. Mao, notorious for her abusiveness, struck her daughter-in-law in the head with a butcher knife. The young woman fled onto the street and called for help while fighting back. Fearing neighborhood opinion, Mrs. Mao cut her own head and blamed her daughter-in-law for the wound.25 Another example involved a Mrs. Wang, who was frequently abused by her mother-in-law, Mrs. Luo. When Luo cut Wang’s arm over a trivial matter, Wang retreated onto the street and struck back.26 Public battles between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law usually resulted from domestic conflicts. If the daughter-in-law was unable to bear the mother-in-law’s mistreatment, she might strategically rebel by bringing her tormentor before a public audience, an effective way to check domestic abuse and gain public sympathy. The Beijing Women’s Daily reported on a street confrontation in 1908 that illustrates this phenomenon. An elderly woman starved and tortured her daughter-in-law, who had married the son of her husband’s Buxton, The Eastern Road, 190. David Strand argues that the Beijing police maintained public order not through coercion but mainly through mediation and persuasion. See Strand, Rickshaw Beijing, 65–97. 25  Chenbao, 11 February 1925. 26  Chenbao, 15 March 1925. 23  24 

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ex-wife. Unable to bear the abuse, the young woman ran into the street one day, exposing her treatment to a large crowd of neighbors, who intervened. The old woman was condemned by her neighbors as well as the newspaper reporter.27 Sometimes a mother-in-law’s abuse triggered a war between the two families involved. In one case, a Mrs. Gu expelled her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Zhao, because she was suspected of having an extramarital affair. When Zhao’s mother failed to convince Gu of her daughter’s innocence, she avenged her daughter’s humiliation with a mob attack.28 Families rarely became involved in the conflicts of their married daughters, so Zhao’s retaliation was exceptional. Nevertheless, the public clash between the two families publicized Gu’s ill-treatment of her daughter-inlaw and forced Gu’s family to either accept the woman or try to regain their lost “face” if they were found to be wrongly condemned. In cases where a daughter-in-law bullied her mother-in-law, the older woman typically sought justice by having her daughter-in-law publicly condemned. Woman Sun, for example, was sixty-one years old and lived with her daughter-in-law, Woman Chang. There were no other family members, and Chang treated her mother-in-law cruelly, beating her and letting her go hungry. One day Chang cursed at Sun as Sun tried to give a birthday gift to her neighbor. Sun was unable to stand the abuse any longer and took the fight to the street, an act that would bring strong reactions from the community, which could shun disloyal daughters-in-law.29 Betrayal by men was another catalyst for women’s fights on the street. Jealous wives punished their cheating husbands or the women who competed for their husbands’ affections. The pain caused by spousal infidelity was perhaps especially deep for Chinese women, since the culture places high value on saving face. Otherwise, women would not risk sacrificing their reputation in public to gain neighborhood support. Such a case was found in a young woman’s retaliation against her husband. The wife, angered by her husband’s affair with an actress, sought revenge in an amusement park, where she proclaimed in front of an audience that her husband had abandoned his job and family.30 Another woman discovered that her husband had secretly married a concubine and tried to physically force him to return home.31 Husbands who did not fulfill their familial duties or committed crimes against their children would also invite public scorn. The wife of Zhang Yutang, an opium smoker who Beijing nübao, 10 June 1908. Chenbao, 7 January 1926. 29  Chenbao, 20 November 1925. 30  Chenbao, 10 February 1925. 31  Chenbao, 1 August 1925. 27  28 

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sold his three daughters without her knowledge, pulled him through the street while slapping him.32 In another case, a shop clerk named Zhang Maotian, who refused to pay his wife any support, was beaten by his wife and her sister on the street.33 Some men forced their wives or lovers to become prostitutes, which generated violent resistance. Woman Wu, for instance, lived with Tang Rongsheng, who was involved in illegal prostitution. When Tang tried to force Wu at knifepoint to sell her body, Wu defended herself with a pair of scissors.34 The strategy of publicizing domestic abuse captured the attention of a Japanese professor in late Qing Beijing. The scholar concluded that lower-class women usually brought their family disputes into public view and used screaming and crying to intimidate their husbands and parents-in-law: As for the lower-class women, they run out of doors and cry toward the sky. In so doing, they articulate their grievances to their neighbors. Their husbands are afraid that the family dispute will be made public, so they suppress their tempers and give in to their wives. Their parents-in-law also surrender for the same reason. Women are thus becoming more self-indulgent and arrogant.35

This scholar was apparently obsessed by the Confucian notion that women should keep family disputes within the home and be submissive to their in-laws and husbands. Yet, he had to admit that the strategy of crying outside was successful in protecting the interests of the oppressed. Lower-class women also used public forums to confront those who infringed upon their familial boundaries or economic well-being. For example, bloody fighting erupted after Woman En punished Woman Zhu’s child for punching her own child.36 Another case involved Woman Ge, a bully who attacked her neighbor, Woman Shen, because Shen’s child fought with hers. Ge’s behavior angered the other female neighbors, who joined the fight in support of Shen.37 Women also resorted to violence when their financial interests were jeopardized. A Woman Xu struck the manager of a tailoring shop after some of the materials she had left for a custom-made cloak were stolen and the resulting cloak was too small.38 A prostitute named Yang Chenbao, 16 August 1925. Chenbao, 1 May 1926. 34  Chenbao, 23 February 1925. 35  Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 495–496. 36  Chenbao, 13 March 1925. 37  Chenbao, 29 April 1926. 38  Chenbao, 16 December 1925. 32  33 

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Xiaohong throttled a rickshaw passenger over an unpaid loan.39 Still another woman, Mrs. Li, was engaged in a money-lending business. When debtor Chong Fu refused to pay back fifteen dollars, she cut his face with a knife.40 Arguments over territory also led to many street fights. Early twentiethcentury Beijing was home to thousands of destitute women who fought often over space on the street. Female Su, for instance, begged for alms next to fortune-teller Wu Yunfeng. Wu was afraid that his business would be disrupted and tried to expel her, leading to a fight in which they were both injured.41 Just about anything could trigger a street fight. Ironically, women who fought violated the traditional requirement that women be docile, gentle, self-contained, and peaceful. The gap between the Confucian ideal and ordinary women’s aggressive behavior was readily apparent when lower-class urban women demonstrated their quick tempers and violent tendencies. It seems that the unrelenting turmoil caused by poverty, competition for the city’s limited resources, displacement and migration, population growth, and the collapse of conventional values and social relations all contributed to the formation of an often alien and cold environment for women. In Beijing, lower-class women belonged to a disadvantaged social category. They had little education, very few employment opportunities, and difficulties raising their children and caring for their families. The cruel reality placed women in a defensive position, reduced their tolerance, and often provoked them to violence. Even trivial matters could cause them to overreact and become fierce combatants. But even overt acts of hostility often were not enough to break the bond between neighboring women, especially when others intervened. Women who shared multifamily compounds were close and sympathetic to one another. They were usually not rivals but allies whose friendships provided a means of addressing domestic abuse or other problems. Any hard feelings between them were usually short-lived and easily defused through outside intervention. On the contrary, conflicts with strangers or less familiar people on the street were more hostile and antagonistic because no mediating relationships were involved. Militancy and friendliness constituted the two halves of lower-class women’s character. The ability to defend their families and personal interests through force was as necessary for their survival as the social connections that bound neighbors together.

Chenbao, 29 March 1925. Chenbao, 26 February 1926. 41  Chenbao, 19 March 1926. 39  40 

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Cases such as those mentioned here were eagerly reported by local newspapers, but these accounts did not convey the entire truth. Reports of a few scattered cases from hundreds of neighborhoods could appear to indicate a trend. Many women were victims themselves and resorted to street violence as a way of seeking moral support from the public or simply releasing their anger. Why didn’t those women turn to other means to solve the problem, such as a lawsuit or mediation from a friend, neighbor, or relative? It is possible that mediation efforts had failed; local culture to a great extent tolerated the abuse of women by their mothers-in-law or husbands and prevented people from intervening in the problems of others. In addition, taking legal action in China was often unwise. Lawsuits were costly and potentially devastating to a woman’s reputation, and the male judges often punished female plaintiffs for violating Confucian ideals. A physical confrontation on the street was a way for a female victim to resist her oppressors or aggressors, restore a psychological balance, and arouse sympathy. Female neighbors might join in the conflict, stop the abuse, and mediate between parties; fear of losing face in public might prevent further misconduct. Street fights caused by women thus generated a mechanism of self-protection and invited the community to offer support or to make a judgment. Dangers in the Streets Urban public spaces could provide a means for ordinary women to find jobs, amusement, and friendships, but they also presented risks. Streets, and even nearby homes, were not safe zones for women. Feminist scholars have discussed the fear, anxiety, physical danger, harassment, and threats of attack women may have experienced in public. They point out that, in contrast, men could take for granted their freedom in and dominance of these spaces.42 Daughters in Beijing were taught at an early age that they should avoid being outside after dark or choose busy and wellilluminated streets if they had to go out. Men had victimized women for centuries, but offenses increased during late Qing and early Republican years, when women’s public presence increased through employment, education, consumerism, and entertainment. The offenses against women in part reflected the politics of gender. Through violence, sexual harassment, kidnapping, and rape, men attempted to control the female body, subjugate the female will, and restrict women’s activities. Urban crime patterns often created areas where a woman would “[adapt] her behavior to cope with her sense of a strongly gendered vulnerability in certain places and at certain times.”43 Fear of crime has the ability to 42  43 

McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 148. Scraton and Watson, “Gendered Cities”; Bondi and Mona, “On the Contours of Public

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organize consent or unify views around proper gender roles: women cannot engage in certain activities because it is dangerous for them to do so, whereas men might have no such limitations.44 Gender crimes embodied males’ attitudes that reduced women to feeble, inferior, and subhuman creatures, merchandise, or sexual objects. The crimes against women that happened in public represented a continuation of domestic abuse. Crime turned city streets into dangerous areas for women and thus restricted women’s mobility and access to usable spaces. Perhaps the cruelest crime was the abduction and sale of women. According to male writers, trafficking in women thrived in early twentiethcentury Beijing, and young women who left their homes alone or who were credulous with strangers might be abducted or kidnapped. Newspaper reports revealed that girls who went shopping, attended school, or played outside often went missing.45 The gang that trafficked in women—called the “trash trade” (zhazihang)—developed a network, a secret language, and sophisticated tactics. Gangsters abducted young girls and sold them either to brothels (lingjia) or adoptive families (yangjia). Agents of the trade, called qianshuo, were active in such public places as restaurants, wine bars, and teahouses in red-light districts. Their techniques of abduction included seduction, false marriage proposals, financial incentives, voluntary assistance, and offering drugs.46 Female refugees, women visitors, and peasant wives and daughters who sought jobs in the city might be abducted and end up in brothels or adoptive households. Unhappy brides, depressed maids, and daughters upset by their arranged marriages and those who admired the concept of freely chosen romantic partners might be trapped by men and smuggled to other provinces for sale. Sometimes the trafficking of women was an organized crime, and traffickers controlled regional and even national networks.47 The deterioration of the rural economy during the early twentieth century drove peasants to leave their homes or send their daughters away in search of a better life. Young girls and women from the countryside were plentiful in Beijing, and criminals recruited them by offering jobs, famine relief, or the prospect of marriage.48 Some traffickers specialized in tricking peasant families. Wang Xinzhai and An Zhucun, for instance, set up their headquarters outside Fucheng Gate in the west part of the Inner City and hired many accomplices to find rural girls in the suburban Space,” 284. 44  Young, Imagining Crime. 45  Chenbao, 22 March, 8 April 1925. 46  Li Jiarui, Beiping fengsu leizheng, 441–442; Lian Kuoru, Jianghu congtan, 447–451; and Wu Yu, Liang Licheng, and Wang Daozhi, Minguo hei shehui, 23–27. 47  Chenbao, 12 April 1925. 48  Chenbao, 5 January, 30 April 1926.

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areas. They sold grown women directly to brothels and sheltered young girls for future transactions. Their network extended from Beijing to Zhangjiakou and Baotou, where they established agency offices.49 Both men and women could be predators in this criminal trade. Female traffickers were thought to look more innocent and trustworthy and gained easier access to their prey. Li Guiwang and his family, for example, lost their rural house to warlord troops and had to move to Beijing as refugees. On their journey, they met an old woman who claimed that she lived in Beijing and generously offered a free place for them to stay. The Li family was so grateful to the lady that they followed her for the rest of the trip. But to their surprise, the old woman disappeared with their daughter.50 Some female traffickers were neighbors who never aroused suspicion. In one case, the two daughters of a rickshaw puller named Wen Yuan were kidnapped by their neighbor, Woman Zhao, who was not a professional trafficker but had connections with the business.51 Some women abducted or purchased girls in the name of adoption and trained them to be opera actresses and drum-song singers. Those who lacked talent were sold to brothels. Others became adopted daughters who would eventually grow into “money trees” (yaoqianshu) if wealthy patrons (pengjia) could be found for them. The girls were taught to manipulate their relationships with patrons and to ask them to offer expensive gifts, host banquets, buy clothes, hire tutors, or even purchase houses.52 Criminals who were among the urban poor themselves might victimize members of their own class because they lived in the same neighborhoods and were more likely to socialize with one another. The cruel conditions of urban life and the lure of profit turned a small number of women into coldhearted human traffickers who took advantage of their own sex. Although men dominated the trade, they accomplished their goals partially through the assistance of women. Studies of female prisoners in early Republican Beijing indicate that those who committed crimes such as kidnapping, abduction, fraud, theft, or other crimes against women were usually destitute and uneducated. They were also the victims of urban poverty.53 Of course, most women who were abducted did their best not to accept their fate. Once they detected the trap, they resisted their abductors and called out for rescue. Many found opportunities to escape or get police attention. Their struggles actually protected them and in many Chenbao, 12 April 1925. Chenbao, 23 April 1926 51  Chenbao, 31 March 1926. 52  Chenbao, 28 November 1926. 53  Yan Jingyao, “Beiping fanzui zhi shehui fenxi”; Zhou Shuzhao, “Beiping yibaiming nüfan zhi yanjiu.” 49  50 

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cases brought the perpetrators to justice. Woman Dong, for instance, was cheated by Woman Wang, who promised to find a servant position for her and an adoptive family for her daughter. Yet, when Woman Dong went to the employer’s home, she found that she had been sold to a brothel instead. She survived threats to her life and managed to contact the police. She and her daughter were finally rescued and the criminals punished.54 In another case, Ho Wenlin abducted and sold Woman Tian to a human trafficker. Ho took payment from the buyer and prepared to hand over Woman Tian, but, to his great shock, he found out that Woman Tian had won his wife’s sympathy, and both women ran away, taking many valuables with them.55 Sometimes victims refused to obey their persecutors and threatened suicide. Woman Ma was captured by Wang Zetian, who intended to sell her to a brothel. Ma rebelled and stabbed herself in the throat with a pair of scissors. The fear of being charged as a murderer compelled Wang to turn himself in to the police and thus Ma’s life was saved.56 Highway robberies were a common but minor offense compared to the trafficking of women. Robbers attacked both men and women, but women were the more common targets. Most victims were wealthy women who had bound feet and lacked street experience; consequently, in most cases, they surrendered. The most vulnerable were those who traveled alone in isolated areas at night. Robbers, sometimes organized and well prepared, took women’s property as well as their sense of security traveling in the city. Victims might remember their ordeal through nightmares for months after the attack. According to newspaper reports, thieves and gangs had been prevalent in Beijing since the late Qing. Armed gangs or individual criminals stopped women on the streets and stole their property. In one case, several female members of a gentry-class household who rode in three-horse carriages were mugged by a large group of bandits as they returned home from the theater. One of the women was even kidnapped, and all her jewels and clothes stolen.57 Robbery was more frequent during the Republican period, and women could be attacked at any time and any place. While returning from shopping around 10 a.m., Woman Jie was followed by a middle-aged man. When she entered an alley where she was alone, the man robbed her at knifepoint.58 Most robberies, however, took place after dark and on quiet street corners. Victims were threatened Chenbao, 19 May 1925. Chenbao, 7 April 1925. 56  Chenbao, 28 June 1926. 57  Shuntian shibao, 5 December 1902. 58  Chenbao, 16 March 1925. 54  55 

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with death and intimidated by violence. For instance, Woman Xu walked through a small alley as she returned from her parents’ home one evening at six. A robber pushed her down and began strangling her. She was unable to shout and was forced to give up her jewels and money.59 Similarly, Woman Jin and Woman Cui were ambushed by armed bandits in the evening.60 Street offenders were not just after valuables. Sexual harassment was an even bigger issue than robbery among Beijing women because of concern for their reputations and the social prejudice against the “disgraced.” Such offenses threatened the ideal of female virtue and humiliated the victims’ families. Newspaper reporters published reports of men’s harassment of schoolgirls and suggested protection for the daughters of decent families.61 Others investigated street safety and found out that ruffians took advantage of young women at temple fairs, teahouses, and markets.62 Ning Lao T’ai-T’ai’s story suggests that no women were safe on urban streets during this period. She and her friend were followed and harassed by men in Penglai, Shandong Province. Young women venturing alone on the streets of Penglai were often treated like prostitutes and insulted. Women had to wear black clothes and cover their faces in public.63 Sexual harassment thus generated a “body problem” and reminded women of the inequality of the sexes. The crime suggested that men could regard women as sexual objects for their own gratification. Most women who had been sexually offended were too humiliated to speak out. Newspaper reporters collected very few extreme cases of women who had the courage to punish or otherwise retaliate against their assailants. Pi Huashun, for instance, harassed Mrs. Luo in a movie theater, insulting her as if she were a prostitute and taking her handkerchief. To his surprise, the outraged Mrs. Luo hit him on the head with a teapot.64 Mrs. Zhang provides another example of women’s resistance to sexual harassment. While shopping in a grocery store, the shop assistant, Wang Fengming, harassed her, so she broke open his forehead with a bowl.65 Fiercer still were three teenaged sisters who eked out a living selling soybean milk and apricot kernel tea from a food stall on the street. The girls were the family breadwinners who supported their disabled mother. A passerby admired their beauty and tried to make advances. One day he grabbed one of the girl’s hands and tauntingly invited the Chenbao, 4 November 1926. Chenbao, 18 February, 6 April 1925. 61  Yishi baihua bao, 1 March, 7 April 1917. 62  Yishi baihua bao, 15 March 1917; 8 August 1918; 11 August 1919. 63  Pruitt, A Daughter of Han, 176–178. 64  Chenbao, 9 May 1925. 65  Chenbao, 12 July 1926. 59  60 

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sisters to fight back. He found himself covered with his own blood after being severely injured, despite using a bamboo pole to protect himself.66 Most victimized women, however, endured their humiliation and urged their families to wait to take revenge. Sexual harassment thus became an area in which men fought back on behalf of women. Despite laws against sexual violations, many incidents took place without official acknowledgment or punishment. Those who were sympathetic to the victims usually stepped up to blame the violators or seek justice through violence. Men defended their wives and daughters as if they were protecting their property from thieves. Such incidents provoked by sexual harassment epitomized the male dominance of female bodies. The Chinese motto “Disgraceful things should not go out of the household” (“Jiachou buke waiyang”) was seemingly less applicable to lowerclass urbanites. When families heard that their women had been sexually assaulted or harassed, they often settled the accounts with their fists instead of keeping the problem to themselves. For instance, when Mr. Gao sent his daughter, Da Niu, to his old neighbor Yang Qifa’s place to ask his help in selling some furniture, Yang assaulted her. Gao was so angry that he brought Da Niu to Yang and sought an explanation. Yang denied any wrongdoing, sparking a violent battle between them.67 Another man, Gao Yongchun, defended his wife’s reputation and seriously injured the man who offended her. Gao’s wife, Woman Chen, was buying bean curd when her neighbor, Zhao Quanshun, verbally offended her. After an exchange of curses, Woman Chen returned home and looked to her husband for reinforcement. Gao then broke Zhao’s leg with a wooden stick.68 Male elites used these incidents as support for their opposition to women’s use of public spaces. Newspaper accounts, guidebooks, and popular novels by men uniformly conveyed a singular message: City streets were dangerous places for women; women should stay in their homes and avoid being in dirty, noisy, crowded, and unsafe public places. Male journalists, writers, and reformers similarly warned women that the streets contained strangers, criminals, beggars, thieves, and hoodlums who took advantage of women. Women’s physical weakness, delicate sensibilities, lack of experience, and their sex itself increased their vulnerability. In public places, women were exposed to powerful temptations that could easily crush their moral defenses: luxury goods, fancy clothes and hairstyles, foul language, romantic dramas, outlandish customs, and bad behaviors. Newspaper reporters investigated a broad range of street crimes against women. Although warnings of danger in public were issued to Chenbao, 13 July 1926. Chenbao, 31 October 1925. 68  Chenbao, 31 March 1926. 66  67 

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both men and women, women’s security was always the foremost concern of male urban elites. Numerous stories about women’s public victimization portrayed women as weak and inferior creatures who needed protection through segregation. If news reports are credible, pickpockets preferred female targets because they typically were less cautious than men; bandits robbed traveling women in isolated places and rarely encountered resistance; hoodlums and philanderers frequently harassed female passersby, street vendors, and other young and attractive women; and rapists found parks an ideal place for their crimes. Those reports, usually in conformity with popular wisdom, attributed the incidents to women’s stupidity and lack of knowledge about when and where to go out. These accounts reminded women of their physical weaknesses and vulnerability and inhibited their free use of urban streets. Esther Madriz summarized the media’s role in creating images of women as victims, which strengthened the unequal power relations between the two sexes: “The idea of women as victims advanced by the media and supported by a masculinized ideology that identifies men as permanently strong and women as permanently weak nourishes women’s fears and, paradoxically, contributes to their disempowerment.”69 It might be true that Beijing women had to take special precautions because of their sex, but their fear of crime was often more than offset by their desire for the opportunities that the outside world offered. Journalists nevertheless focused only on dissuading women from venturing into the streets, and the reports of dangers they helped amass created psychological barriers even for those who dared explore the outside world. Suicide and Elopement Traditionally, a woman might commit suicide to resist rape, out of resentment for an arranged marriage, to protest her mother-in-law’s mistreatment, or to oppose her husband’s abandonment. Defending female chastity via suicide was regarded by Confucian elites as honorable and was rewarded by the Ming and the Qing governments. By the early twentieth century, however, female suicide no longer reflected devotion to moral ideals. Instead, suicide represented women’s ultimate act of resistance, especially when it occurred in public and brought scorn on those responsible. In addition, reform-oriented journalists used the tragedies to try to change outdated customs and the abuse of women. First and foremost, suicide was a radical form of marital resistance. As the custom of arranged marriages gave way to free choice and courtship, young women—especially those who were educated—began to 69  Esther Madriz, “The Context of Fear of Crime,” Introduction to Nothing Bad Happens to Good Girls, 19.

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demand a voice in their marital affairs. Although they might still need parental approval, they at least hoped to get to know their partners and be satisfied with them before their wedding. Those not given this opportunity might run away or in extreme cases kill themselves. For instance, Shuzhen, an eighteen-year-old daughter of a merchant family and a high school graduate, resented her father’s decision to force her to marry the ugly and much older Hua Changting. Her father ignored her threat of suicide and forced the two to marry. Greatly frustrated, she killed herself by stabbing herself in the throat with scissors while in a sedan chair.70 A similar tragedy took place in Dong Guori’s family, though Dong’s daughter was not a schoolgirl. Dong, acting as a tyrant, ignored his daughter’s wishes and chose as her husband a man who was neither respectable nor good-looking. Dong denied his daughter’s request to search for a different husband, so she ended her life with a knife.71 Similarly, twenty-oneyear-old Caifeng was engaged to Chunzi, a donkey driver, by parental arrangement. She looked down on Chunzi’s occupation and appearance, yet lacked the courage to rebel. Depressed, she jumped into a river and almost drowned, causing her father to reconsider his arbitrary decision.72 If the bride committed suicide at her wedding, both families suffered a tremendous loss. In addition to receiving an emotional shock, the bride’s parents would have to reimburse the groom’s family for the cost of the groom’s gifts and sometimes the cost of the wedding ceremony as well. Also, the groom’s family would lose face in front of the invited guests. If the groom’s family was held responsible for the death, the bride’s family would demand compensation. In either case, the families might seek a remedy through a lawsuit. An example is provided by Song Jiufeng, whose sister committed suicide after she had entered the groom’s (Li’s) household during the wedding ceremony. In the aftermath, Song’s requirements included that (1) the Li family rent a sedan chair and carry the spirit of the bride; (2) that Li perform a kowtowing ceremony to the dead to apologize; (3) that the Li family publicly announce the reason for the bride’s suicide while the sedan chair passed each intersection; (4) that both families invite guests as they did for the wedding; and (5) that the Li family pay for all expenses.73 Although the reason for the bride’s suicide is unknown, the groom’s family was obviously held responsible. Song’s suicide to prevent her marriage destroyed the Li family’s reputation and caused them enormous financial loss.

Chenbao, 30 April 1925. Chenbao, 12 June 1926. 72  Chenbao, 7 October 1920. 73  Chenbao, 29 June 1917. 70  71 

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Second, suicide could be a protest against domestic abuse. In lowerclass families, wife beating was common, and mothers-in-law sometimes placed unfair demands on brides. Young wives might feel lonely and helpless when their husbands sided with their mothers in these disputes. In these cases, suicide usually brought a great deal of public attention to the problems and often resulted in litigation or other problems for the accused. For instance, Woman Xu, the wife of a butcher, was often beaten by her mother-in-law, Woman Na, a well-known tyrant. Xu’s husband was afraid of his mother and never protected his wife. One day Na hit Xu, causing her to return to her own family. Her father, however, refused to become involved and sent Xu back to her husband’s home. Angry and frustrated, Xu cut her own throat with a barber’s knife.74 In another case, Woman Xu, a twenty-one-year-old bride, jumped into a well and almost died because her mother-in-law and husband were abusive.75 Young women’s suicides placed great pressure on their husbands’ families. Old Madam Yin, a wealthy matriarch in 1920s and 1930s Beijing, expressed tremendous anxiety over the attempted suicide of her third concubine daughter-in-law, who quarreled with her husband and his wife. Yin was afraid of public opinion turning against her family and the potential lawsuit that could cost her family a fortune.76 Some adoptive mothers were abusive. Those who purchased or adopted young girls and trained them to be opera singers usually controlled their young charges through cruelty and intimidation, which often resulted in suicide. Jin Yueqing, for example, was fourteen years old and worked as an opera singer in Tianqiao. Her adoptive mother, Woman Li, beat her relentlessly. One day Jin attempted suicide after being beaten for no apparent reason.77 Because men usually treated their wives as property, they might sell them into prostitution as a last resort to resolve financial predicaments. Wives often protested this betrayal even if it meant death. For example, Woman Hou married merchant Zhang Bao and moved from Sanhe County, Zhili Province, to Beijing in 1925. Zhang’s business failed and he owed a huge debt. He sold his five-year-old daughter to a human trafficker and then sold Hou to a fourth-class brothel for eighty silver dollars. Hou resisted violently and stabbed herself several times with scissors.78 Another jobless man, Sun Haiquan, pawned his clothes and furniture, then decided to sell his wife, Woman Ren, to a brothel for eighty silver Chenbao, 19 June 1926. Chenbao, 28 September 1926. 76  Pruitt, Old Madam Yin, 52–56. 77  Chenbao, 18 March 1925. 78  Chenbao, 17 April 1926. 74  75 

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dollars. When Sun forced his wife to observe the contract with the brothel manager, Ren killed herself in a bathroom.79 Although most female suicides were young women, older women might commit suicide if they were abandoned or ill-treated by their children, disillusioned by tough urban realities, or tired of sickness and poverty. Their deaths might be considered a statement of their regret or a protest against their disloyal children or society in general. Of course, these cases drew attention to the issue of declining social values and the need for support of the elderly. Woman Li, a forty-nine-year-old maidservant, hanged herself from a tree but was rescued. Her rural house had been taken over by warlord troops, and her daughter-in-law and grandchildren were all dead. When she was unable to support her son, her only living relative, death became her escape.80 Woman Zhang attempted suicide because her husband tried to extort the money she earned as a maid. Although Zhang warned Qiu that her employer might fire her if he was too troublesome, Qiu continued his demands. One day an argument with Qiu drove Zhang to desperation, and she wounded herself with a pair of scissors outside her front door.81 Suicide, like street battles, attracted attention. The effects were powerful and devastating, regardless of the woman’s intentions. The media in Beijing often had a proreform agenda, so suicides having to do with traditional-society issues were widely reported. Those held responsible would be censured through public opinion and forced to pay for their wrongdoing through financial compensation, litigation, and the loss of face. In these cases, public spaces became a stage on which desperate women carried out their final act as well as a long-remembered agent for justice and vengeance. Elopement was a happier alternative that became increasingly popular, especially among young women. If suicide was a radical and final protest against mistreatment and arbitrary control, elopement was a more practical approach women adopted in the pursuit of protection, romance, and contentment. Through an examination of legal cases in eighteenth-century China, Paola Paderni discovered that, as a result of the rise of the market economy that brought new values emphasizing happiness, prosperity, love, and beauty, the number of “runaway crimes” increased. Young women, while aware of the consequences, would run away in search of romantic love and better economic conditions, violating ancient moral codes.82 This act was more feasible in the city than the Chenbao, 5 May 1926. Chenbao, 1 April 1926. 81  Chenbao, 1 April 1926. 82  Paderni, “I Thought I Would Have Some Happy Days.” 79  80 

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countryside because of the mixture of ethnicities, classes, occupations, and ages in urban areas, as well as the availability of places to hide and greater tolerance of newcomers. Family ties were generally weaker in the city than in the country, and women relied more on their friends, neighbors, or colleagues than on their kin. These factors created an environment where elopement was possible. Some women ran away because they were unhappy with their arranged marriages. Girls who had access to education increasingly refused to accept the fates arranged for them by their parents. One case is Xu Xiuer, an eighteen-year-old student who sought romantic love. Her traditional father, however, arranged her engagement to the son of Zhao Dechun, a former bureaucrat in Manchuria. Xiuer protested, then ran away from home before the wedding ceremony.83 Her action was not exceptional. Runaway brides in 1920s and 1930s Beijing became a focus of the news media. Even uneducated and lower-class girls were affected by this new social trend. Guo Zhendong’s daughter decided not to marry the man her father found for her against her will. On the wedding day, when Yu’s family sent a sedan chair to Guo’s home to pick up the bride, they discovered that the girl had disappeared. Yu’s family sued Guo for hiding his daughter and breaking the marital agreement.84 In several cases, husbands later came across their lost wives who were living with other men or walking with them on the streets. In other cases, policemen captured runaways and sent them back to their husbands. Little is known about how runaway women lived or felt after they abandoned their husbands or parents. This chapter makes several points about the social lives of lower-class women on their neighborhood streets. First, neighborhoods as communities or social spaces were crucial for lower-class women’s identity construction, knowledge acquisition, and social action. Multifamily compounds constituted women’s everyday space where all social activities and interactions took place. The neighborhood offered residents a sense of security, mutual support, and friendship. Through neighborhood networks for information exchange, reciprocal reliance, communal responsibility, and mediating mechanisms, lower-class women challenged family authority, patched up services, eased stresses, and filled emerging needs. Second, neighborhoods were places where women acted out conflict and sought resolution. Women used the space in their courtyard or on the street to publicize and fight domestic abuse, infidelity, betrayal, and other undesirable conditions. Women here were antagonists as well as neighbors and friends. They relied on the scrutiny of neighbors to provide 83  84 

Chenbao, 29 October 1925. Chenbao, 19 August 1925.

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parameters for behavior and to dispense justice for mistreatment. Third, the streets provided an element of risk and danger as well as opportunity. Women faced abduction, robbery, and sexual harassment even in the most familiar of public places. The threat of crime thus created barriers for women who sought opportunities and freedom on the streets. Unlike men, women were unable to take for granted access to the outdoors for certain activities. Whereas they could suffer domestic abuse and violence at home, they encountered different threats in public. A gendered power relation was thus constructed through men’s crimes against women and through related discussions that could arouse women’s concerns, fear, and self-containing behavior. Generally speaking, public spaces served lower-class women as an arena for expressing compassion, love, anger, and hatred, and a stage on which women acted out their life dramas in the context of community support, confrontation, negotiation, and resistance.

FOUR

Leisure

If work and everyday life associated lower-class women with neighborhood streets, leisure involvement extended women’s activities to more and further places in the city. In the late imperial capital, guojie (celebrating festivals) and guangmiao (strolling around temple fairs) were two great pleasures for ordinary women who filled their vacation time with worshipping local deities, shopping, gathering with friends, or pursuing amusements. Their leisure time and activities were regulated by the calendar and approved by most of the households in the city. The growth of urban public facilities, along with the booming of the entertainment industry and the relaxation of restrictive norms, gave rise to a new tide of pleasure-seeking women during the early twentieth century. Urban public spaces opened to women on an unprecedented scale and nurtured women’s individualism and sociability. Here, a fundamental question emerges as we compare women’s traditional leisure pursuits with their new forms of recreation. How did they differ? Would leisure serve as a vehicle to renew women’s domestic obligations and images or would it help women break down social barriers? Historians who study Chinese women have discovered that, even under the custom of seclusion, women of all classes liked to visit temples or go on pilgrimages in late imperial China. Elite women might make scenic outings, go boating and on picnics, or take long journeys accompanying their husbands on their official duties, while countrywomen could watch plays put on in villages and market towns.1 Did those leisure activities suggest a kind of liberation? Feminist scholars generally believe that women’s lack of choices about their patterns and spaces for leisure reflects unequal gender relations. Because of domestic obligations, women, whether working outside the house or staying at home, usually have less leisure time than men, and since leisure can be a form of resistance 1  Bray, Technology and Gender; Ko, Teachers of the Inner Chambers; and Ebrey, The Inner Quarters.

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and identity development, women’s leisure participation can enhance individual empowerment and bring about positive social changes.2 This argument, based as it is on the evidence of Western industrialized societies, is conductive and inspiring, but to what extent can it be applied to Chinese realities? This chapter investigates the patterns of and changes in women’s leisure in late Qing and early Republican Beijing, scrutinizing the forms, places, times, and meanings of women’s leisure activities in varying contexts and the tendency toward emancipation associated with those activities. The chapter argues that, while women’s festivities and temple visitations during the late imperial dynasties were supplementary to their domestic agendas and a necessary balance to their seclusion, the new recreational engagement signified progress toward freedom of choice and an increasing reliance on urban public spaces. Although the pursuit of urban leisure was common to women of all classes, middle-class daughters were given the most latitude in exploring the novel opportunities, and, thus, their leisure activities were most associated with the emerging cultural principles. The debates on women’s new lifestyles indicate the elites’ anxieties about femininity and national modernity. Women’s Leisure in Traditional Beijing As in other areas of China, in the Beijing of late imperial times women associated leisure interests with external sites. Ming and Qing scholars chronicled women’s activities such as sightseeing, temple visitation, or appreciation of the Lantern Festival as features of city life through poems, journals, and local gazettes. Since the separation of the sexes in China was more of an ideal than a practice and was embraced mainly by upper-class families, ordinary women did little to defend their seclusion in daily life. Centuries-old seasonal rituals moderated the taboo of sexual intermingling and justified women’s participation in festivals outside the home. In addition, entire families participated in these communal events as units, so women became active companions to their fathers, husbands, and brothers. The domestic domain was thus supplemented by a public space open to women mainly on holidays and associated with women’s individual and family needs. However, women’s leisure activities were dictated by the calendar; individual choices were discounted. Freedom and personal gratification were acquired only through service to the 2  Davidson, “The Holiday and Work Experiences of Women with Young Children”; Deem, “Women, the City, and Holidays”; Warmer-Smith, “The Town Dictates What I Do”; Green, “Women Doing Friendship”; Walseth, “Young Muslim Women and Sport”; Wiley, Shaw, and Havitz, “Men’s and Women’s Involvement in Sports”; Shaw, “Conceptualizing Resistance”; and Deem, All Work and No Play?

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family. Entry into urban public spaces did not signify liberation, but the perpetuation of traditional rituals and cultural norms. Celebration of Holidays The Beijing calendar was marked by a long succession of holidays that allowed women to perform rituals outside their homes. Beijing women across social classes participated at the same times and places despite the different expenses and formats associated with the celebrations. Wives and daughters negotiated with their family heads for opportunities to venture outside. Holiday trips provided women relief from the monotony of daily life and opened their eyes to outside affairs. Men permitted these requests out of pragmatic considerations; approval was evidence of their generosity and tolerance, and these occasional excursions undoubtedly helped maintain harmony and solidarity within the household. In the late imperial era, most festivities in the capital were associated with ceremonies conducted within the household, but some brought women out into the streets or away to scenic sites.3 During the New Year season, for instance, women congregated around the perimeter of the White Pagoda Temple (Baitasi) to ensure their good fortune.4 They also enjoyed accompanying their families to “borrow treasures” (jiebao) from the Fortune God Temple (Caishenmiao) outside the western wall of the Outer City.5 Though local taboo forbade women to visit one another’s residences between the first and the fifth days of the first month, they were permitted to pay courtesy calls or visit their parents’ homes afterward.6 On the fifteenth of the first month, Beijing residents ate sweet rice balls (yuanxiao) and went to see the lantern displays at the market outside the Donghua Gate of the Forbidden City and several other places.7 During the Qingming Festival of the third month, women went with their families to outlying areas to sweep their ancestors’ tombs. On the fifth day of the fifth month—Daughter’s Day (Nüer jie)—girls went sightseeing to the Temple of Heaven (Tiantan), the Golden Fish Pond (Jinyuchi), and the Grass Bridge (Caoqiao) in the south of the Outer City and watched polo, horse racing, and archery games sponsored by Manchu nobles outside Xihua Gate of the Forbidden City. Married daughters returned to their parental homes 3  There are several renowned books on festivities in Ming and Qing Beijing through which we can detect women’s outdoor activities. One is Pan Rongbi’s Dijing suishi jisheng. Another, coauthored by Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, is Dijing jingwu lue, and still another, by Fuzha Dunzhong, is Yanjing suishi ji. Also see Rang Lian, Jingdu fengsu zhi. 4  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 66. 5  Chang Renchun and Chen Yanjing, Lao Beijing de nianjie, 17–19. 6  Tun, Annual Customs and Festivals in Peking, 3. 7  Zhen Jun, Tianzhi ouwen, 57; Rang Lian, Jingdu fengsu zhi, 2–3; and Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 57–58.

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on that day.8 During the sixth month, women crowded the Sea of Ten Monasteries (Shishahai) in the north of the Inner City to admire blooming lotus flowers. On the sixth day of the same month, women watched court servants wash elephants outside the Shunzhi Gate.9 First and foremost, women’s holiday trips were usually a part of their families’ agendas and a means to promote family unity and happiness. A festivity could be a citywide celebration in which thousands of families mingled, generating goodwill for the dynastic rulers. The presence of women adorned the cityscape and highlighted the theme of prosperity and harmony. A number of Ming scholars were so impressed by women’s attendance at the Lantern Festival that they composed poems to express their appreciation or derision. Wang Tingchen, in the “Song of Shangyuan Evening in Beijing” (“Yanjing yuanxi qu”), described what was undoubtedly a common situation for married couples at the lantern market: As wives are astonished by the people competing to go their own ways, They don’t notice that their husbands are flirting with other girls.10

According to these observations, women had in common the pleasurable experience of participation in this communal event, despite the revelation of their social status through their vehicles, manner of dress, and behavior. Daughters from elite households, who typically were isolated from society at large, mingled with ordinary girls, who might be quite comfortable on the street, and both enjoyed the artistic lantern displays, the noise and bustle of the crowds, the amusements, and the other public activities offered. There were not only “attractive boys and pretty girls standing along the street,” but also pitiful, frail female singers who “beat bamboo clappers and played stringed instruments.”11 The phenomenon of elite women mingling with strangers in the street stunned a Confucian scholar: “Just look at those who are cheering in the street, they are actually the ones who live upstairs in the mansion.”12 A communal celebration could represent a compromise of distinctive interests; participation increased not only familial harmony but personal joy and freedom. In the festive atmosphere, young women and elite daughters were temporarily released, and a crowd of different classes, ages, and sexes congregated as a counterpoint

8  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 68; Pan Rongbi, Dijing suishi jisheng, 21; Fuzha Dunzhong, Yanjing suishi ji, 65; Rang Lian, Jingdu fengsu zhi, 5–6; and Ding Shiliang and Zhao Fang, Zhongguo difangzhi minsu ziliao huibian: Huabei juan, 5. 9  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi, 7:309–310. 10  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 60. 11  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 59. 12  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 60.

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to the rigid social hierarchies and the rule of gender distinctions observed in everyday life. Unlike the Lantern Festival, the Qingming Festival was a time when families made trips during which wives showed their allegiance to their marital lineages. Despite occasions for sightseeing and picnics, the festival was primarily devoted to the worship of ancestors by family units. As members of their husbands’ families, wives prepared food, wine, incense, and paper money and followed their husbands to pay homage to the deceased, which confirmed women’s position in the ancestral lineage and strengthened family solidarity through a shared spiritual focus.13 If the Lantern and Qingming Festivals symbolized social harmony and family values, other leisure tours underscored distinctly feminine motivations and goals. Female residents of the city, for instance, performed a ritual called “crossing bridges and rubbing gate nails” (zouqiao moding). This activity came from a Manchu folk custom called “driving out misfortune” (quhuiqi) or “walking out a hundred illnesses” (zoubaibing). In the practice’s original context, Manchu women gathered during the middle of the first month to walk around in a field or across slippery ice, hoping to prevent bad luck or disease.14 Manchu women who moved to the city retained this tradition, which spread to their Han counterparts. On the fifteenth night of the first month, women dressed in their best clothes and walked down the street in groups, mostly chaperoned by older women or female servants, in an effort to prevent illness. They crossed as many bridges as possible, especially the one on the city moat immediately outside the Qian Gate, attempting to prevent calamity (zouqiao). At the city gates, they might buy permission from the guards to touch the big round nails or tacks on the iron doors, believing that this practice of “rubbing gate nails” (momending) would bring them sons.15 The custom fulfilled women’s desires for good health and male children, which were crucial for their marriages and family status. In addition, there were occasions affiliated with holidays when married women didn’t venture into public but visited their parental homes instead. Those women renewed their emotional ties with their parents and siblings while also acting as liaisons between their natal family and their husband’s family to build kinship networks. Women since the Song dynasty took advantage of affinal relationships to promote their own and their families’ Pan Rongbi, Dijing suishi jisheng, 16. Yang Xichun, Manzu fengsu kao, 257, 293. 15  Liu Tong and Yu Yizheng, Dijing jingwu lue, 58, 66; Pan Rongbi, Dijing suishi jisheng, 11; Shen Taimo, Donghua suolu, 158–159; Nilü Guoke, Dushi congtan, 33; Ding Shiliang and Zhao Fang, Zhongguo difangzhi minsu ziliao huibian: Huabei juan, 3; and Wang Yongbing, Zatan lao Beijing, 320–331. 13  14 

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interests.16 Manchu custom also gave married daughters the opportunity to make trips home for at least a few days a year, usually following each important holiday. Yet, those vacations were the results of negotiations between the wives’ in-laws and parents. The brides had no power in the decision beyond proposing those trips. On the sixth day of the first month, the second of the second month (Dragon Head Festival), the fifth of the fifth month (Duanwu Festival), and the ninth of the ninth month (Daughter’s Day), married women could raise the request to visit their parental homes. Well in advance of the separation, the parents had to obtain permission for their daughter’s release from her parents-in-law. On the morning of the trip, the daughterin-law had to complete all the household chores to the satisfaction of her parents-in-law. When the family cart arrived, she had to bow to her parents-in-law and to her husband’s siblings and their spouses to beg forgiveness for her absence. To please her parents-in-law, she usually ended her vacation—which included feasts, street tours, theatrical events, and gossip about her husband’s domineering family—early.17 This custom of visiting the natal home, called guining, was in recognition of housewives’ need for vacations; it also supported the connection between the two families through the exchange of gifts and greetings. The trip was still a family decision rather than an individual choice, however. The local calendar regulated women’s holiday celebrations and highlighted family priorities and feminine roles. Women’s perceptions and pursuit of leisure were characterized by a correlation between individual gratification and collective ends. Those pleasant activities temporarily released women from the seclusion found within patriarchal relations and served as a safety valve to reduce the pressure such relations generated. The urban public space and private home constituted a dichotomy of outer and inner spheres where women’s work and leisure interacted and balanced. Women’s use of public spaces for festivities was thereby conditioned and limited, without significantly challenging dominant norms and principles. Trips to Temples Temple fairs originated from the celebration of gods’ birthdays. They were introduced to urban life in Beijing during the Liao dynasty (916–1125) and proliferated during the Ming and Qing eras.18 Temple compounds Bossler, “A Daughter Is a Daughter All Her Life.” Chang Renchun and Chen Yanjing, Lao Beijing de nianjie, 84–89. 18  The number of temples in the Beijing area increased from 480 in the 1590s to 636 in 1800. Susan Naquin has identified 2,500 temples documented in Beijing between 1400 and 1900 (Peking, 20). According to Chong Yi, a nineteenth-century Mongol scholar who came from 16  17 

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constituted the major public space in Beijing for those who sought to buy goods, worship deities, donate money to charity, meet for social or business purposes, or find lodging.19 Qing law prohibited women from touring temples, but local custom legitimized women’s presence on the temple grounds. Elite households allowed only their elderly women or young girls to attend temple events, whereas lower-class wives and daughters took temple visitations for granted.20 Like the festival celebrations, temple fair visitations offered women a time for leisure and the satisfaction of various impulses. The cult of gods, especially female deities, was one reason why women went to temple fairs. The Chinese state always encouraged the worship of deities who symbolized Confucian virtues and promoted law-abiding conduct.21 Female gods were associated with pregnancy, the birth of sons, healing, and other pragmatic concerns that made them particularly appealing to women. The female god whose temples were most popular with women was a Daoist deity known as the Princess of the Colored Clouds (Bixia yuanjun). She was considered to be the daughter of the god of Mt. Tai and was said by the Song emperor Zhenzhong to be the “Celestial Fairy and the Jade Girl, the Princess of the Colored Clouds.” She represented the power of yin and fertility, and Beijing residents built five temples in her honor, one in the middle of the city and the others to the north, south, east, and west. Each contained a number of female goddesses whose specialties were sought by female worshippers. The most sacred of the five temples was on the summit of Mt. Miaofeng, 21 miles northwest of Beijing, where the goddesses working with the princess were Offspring Lady (Zisun niangniang), Baby-Delivering Lady (Songsheng niangniang), Smallpox Lady (Banzhen niangniang), and Eyesight Lady (Jianguang niangniang). The Princess of the Colored Clouds was reminiscent of Tianhou, or the Heavenly Princess, who was elevated by the imperial state and local elites from a minor deity to a powerful goddess in south China.22 Pilgrims from Beijing, Tianjin, Baoding, and other nearby areas traveled to Mt. Miaofeng to worship the Princess of the Colored Clouds between the first and the fifteenth day of the fourth lunar month. Women—rich and poor, old and young—would beg for protection or, grateful because their prayers had been answered, burn incense. Ordinary a bureaucratic household in Beijing, as many as twenty-seven temples in the city featured cultural events or fairs either monthly or annually (see Daoxian yilai chaoye zaji, 87–91). 19  Naquin, Peking, 57–105. 20  Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 551. 21  Eastman, Family, Fields, and Ancestors, 57–59. 22  James Watson, “Standardizing the Gods: The Promotion of T’ien Hou (Empress of Heaven) along the South China Coast, 960–1960,” in Johnson, Nathan, and Rawski, Popular Culture in Late Imperial China, 292–324.

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women organized incense groups (xianghui) to help fulfill their spiritual journey. Their pilgrimages were efforts to move beyond their everyday parameters and broaden their cultural horizons.23 Wealthy visitors chaperoned by servants took horse-drawn carriages and then sedan chairs to travel the mountainous roads to the summit, where the temple was erected. Ordinary women rode donkeys or simply walked, carrying the portrait of the princess. Some female pilgrims prostrated at every step up to the peak, hoping their display of faith would bring solutions to disease, poverty, infertility, and other misfortunes. Both upper- and lower-class women observed the routine of worshipping that involved the sentiments of reverence, respect, and veneration: offering incense, bowing, and praying. Afterward, they bought paper goldfish, toy bats, and fake shoe-shaped ingots, objects believed to bring wealth, luck, and happiness.24 On many occasions, temple fairs did less to satisfy women’s religious needs than their desire for shopping or entertainment. Many temple fairs in the city were mainly commercial events that provided women with a broad range of everyday goods. The major commercial fairs included those of the Protecting the Country Temple and the Abundant Blessing Temple in the west and the east of the Inner City, respectively. By the eighteenth century, these two temple fairs had become major markets, open two days each month. Among the commodities favored by female customers were jade, pearls, silk, clothes, antiques, painted scrolls, birds, goldfish, and accessories. Flowers and vegetables were available year round. Women were entertained by storytellers, acrobats, singers of popular songs, martial artists, and other street performers.25 Aside from revering deities and doing shopping, women sought amusement from the parades at temples. Two categories of charitable societies sponsored temple events in Beijing. Civilian societies (wenhui) offered free drinks, food, flowers, mats, and services to pilgrims and visitors, whereas martial societies (wuhui) were responsible for the organization of parades.26 Volunteers in the martial societies performed for gods and the general public in parades that symbolized the unity of the urban community

23  Berling, A Pilgrim in Chinese Culture, 11–25. For the significance of women’s incense societies, also see Naquin and Yü, Pilgrims and Sacred Sites in China. 24  Zhao Xinghua, Lao Beijing miaohui, 170–195; Chang Renchun and Chen Yanjing, Lao Beijing de nianjie, 114–120. 25  Zhen Jun, Tianzhi ouwen, 62; Fuzha Dunzhong, Yanjing suishi ji, 53–54; and Li Jiarui, “Dongximiao miaoshi” [The Eastern and Western Temple fairs], in Li Jiarui, Beiping fengsu leizheng, 420–423, cited in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 97–100. 26  Jin Shoushen, Beijing tong [Everything about Beijing], 152–157, cited in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 175–180.

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and were acknowledged by both rich and poor, men and women.27 The fact that both sexes participated indicated not only cooperation but also contrast between the sexes. Fancy flagpole balancing (zhongfan), road opening (playing of the “fork,” a weapon used in war), the lion dance, the five tiger rod, weightlifting, and Shaolin monks’ boxing (Shaolin quan) were performed by men who flaunted their masculinity. Their superior status was reinforced by the shows’ size, participants’ skills, and fancy decorations. By the late Qing and early Republican eras, women could participate in such parades as the stilt dance (caigaoqiao), boating dance (zouhanchuan), diabolo playing (doukongzhu), and shuttlecock kicking (tijianzi). The female performers were beautifully dressed, soft, lithe, and graceful, highlighting all the feminine characteristics.28 In other performances, the female sex was personified as a young wife who married an older husband, a dissolute girl who flirted with a monk, or a new bride who was embarrassed by her sedan chair carriers.29 The parades underscored gender demarcations, depicting women as weak, ridiculous, and dependent, in exaggerated domestic roles that were performed as natural and irreversible and that strengthened gender stereotypes. In the eyes of the female audience, temple parades were the city’s free shows and the exciting celebrations of local events. Yet, the same parades renewed gender stereotypes and educated women on their own roles. Analogous to holiday activities, temple visitations also were family oriented and gender specific. Leisure time spent there was in a large part devoted to the family’s well-being. Prayers for having sons, healing the ill, or obtaining fortunes could help create long-lasting and prosperous patriarchal families. Buying supplies and children’s toys also helped meet the family’s goals. Entertainment was thus one of several tasks that motivated women to make trips to temples. Street Amusements During the Qing dynasty, men enjoyed much more leisure than women in terms of both time and physical space. Manchu and Han elite men browsed in shops that sold antique paintings, carvings, and books. Some 27  As Judith A. Berling notes, “festivals were community-wide events that had as one of their chief aims reaffirming the sense of commonality and unity which transcended tension, feuds, and conflicts” (A Pilgrim in Chinese Culture, 102). On the subject of parades and symbolism, also read Skorupski, Symbol and Theory. 28  Rang Lian, Jingdu fengsu zhi, 5; Zhao Zhiping, “Ji Beijing de yige Manzu jujuqu, wai huoqi ying,” 202–230; Ding Shiliang and Zhao Fang, Zhongguo difangzhi minsu ziliao, 4; Deng Yunxiang, Zenbu Yanjing xiangtu ji, 2:436–443; and Chang Renchun, Lao Beijing de fengsu, 79–86. 29  He Ming, “Qiantan minjian huahui” [A casual talk on the popular flower societies], in Beijing yanshan chubanshe, Jiujing renwu yu fengqing [Cultural relics and customs in Old Beijing], 319–322 (Beijing: Yanshan chubanshe, 1996).

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men cultivated rare flowers or indulged in horse riding, eagle raising, or opera singing. Ordinary men, especially bannermen, also played games with birds, fish, and insects and imitated elites in the singing of Peking Opera.30 By contrast, rigid gender roles and financial disadvantages kept women from pursuing these diversions. The daily territory of laboring women was mainly limited to their homes, the adjoining alleyways, and the immediate neighborhood. Women observed much less of a distinction between leisure and work. They primarily sought relaxation and entertainment at home or temples, rarely visiting the commercial districts that offered such distractions. Because they had little access to commercial amusements, they found streets and alleyways a source of endless enjoyment and stimulation. Women enjoyed the musical cries of peddlers who sold clothes, needlework supplies, toiletries, knickknacks, sweets, meat, and vegetables door-to-door. (Items such as tea, rice, and drugs were purchased by men at local shops.) Vendors in Beijing advertised either by crying out the names of their wares or by playing special instruments. Their yells and instrumental noises interrupted women’s work and created for them an excuse to have a rest and some fun beyond the courtyard. Sing-song girls, drum-song players, martial art practitioners, and circus men performed in neighborhoods for small earnings. Yet more often than not, the processions of weddings and funerals, the passing of army units, or families’ or neighbors’ quarrels drew women out of their houses.31 The most impressive of these events were the pageants for weddings and funerals that invited large crowds and became the favorite sights of women and children. Both were public demonstrations of the patrons’ wealth, social status, and ritual propriety. Although different colors were used (red for weddings and white for funerals) and different objects were carried (sedan chair and coffin), the music and regalia in the two types of parades were remarkably similar. The events were deliberately designed and extravagantly staged to impress neighbors and the general public, and in that sense were genuine performances.32 If the funeral ceremony was in imaginative confirmation of the glory of the deceased, the wedding ceremony was a cheerful celebration of the new couple’s future. Marriage was the foremost issue in a woman’s life, and the scale, expense, and ritual formality of the wedding ceremony carried great face value for the families of bride and groom alike. Neighborhood women constituted

Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 7:330. Bredon, Peking, 61. 32  Kates, The Years That Were Fat, 89. 30  31 

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the street audience for these parades because they could admire, criticize, or gossip about the ritualistic displays of wealth.33 Street performances were women’s favorite pastimes, a bright contrast to their dreary home lives. These performances, as well as door-to-door services and sales, were the direct results of the inconvenience of transportation in the city and the seclusion of women and children. The local rituals justified women’s holiday tours, temple visitations, and sightseeing on particular dates, but at the same time they confined women to their households at all other times. At least two accounts of old Beijing acknowledged the attractiveness and necessity of street events to women who lived in relative isolation.34 Men’s dominance of urban public spaces was not challenged by their temporary borrowing by women who were normally excluded from many public sites. High-class restaurants and provincial halls, for instance, were accessible only to men and rarely served female clients.35 Temple Fairs in Transition Temple culture remained popular and persisted through the early twentieth century, when the city underwent a substantial urban transformation. Western influences and modern education undermined the spiritual appeal of temple fairs, yet a majority of townspeople, particularly lowerclass women, remained faithful participants in temple events. By the 1930s, there were thirty-eight temple fairs in the Beijing area: nine in the Inner City, eleven in the Outer City, and the rest in outlying areas. After 1929, fair days were added for the Earth God Temple (Tudimiao), Flower Market (Huashi), White Pagoda Temple, Protecting the Country Temple (Huguosi), and Abundant Blessings Temple (Longfusi) on the national calendar (guoli), which determined the work schedules of governmental and educational institutions, to generate additional revenue. Other fairs kept schedules as determined by the lunar calendar.36 If Ming and Qing temples were accessible to women mainly during festivals, the sites gradually became everyday spaces for women during the early Republican period. The coordination of dates when the fairs took place enabled women to visit them almost daily. The combination of commerce, entertainment, food, and religious ceremonies provided a great convenience. Ordinary women used temple grounds to evaluate Lowe, The Adventures of Wu, 2:215. Lowe, The Adventures of Wu, 1:120; Kates, The Years That Were Fat, 83–84. 35  Bredon, Peking, 447; Belsky, Localities at the Center, 237–238. 36  Wang Bincheng, “Cong jingji fangmian fenxi Beijing de miaohui” [Analyzing temple fairs in Beijing from an economic perspective], Dongya jingji yuekan [East Asian economics monthly] (1943), in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 261–282. 33  34 

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prospective daughters-in-law, gather with relatives, neighbors, or friends, or entertain their children.37 One sociologist investigated Changdian, a popular marketplace during the Spring Festival, in 1922 and discovered that children and women constituted the majority of the visitors there.38 Guo Licheng, a female writer who was raised and educated in Beijing, recollected that in the 1920s and 1930s, “wandering around temple fairs” in the city became a weekly form of leisure for ordinary women. She found that the markets at the White Pagoda, Protecting the Country, and Abundant Blessings Temples were purely commercial sites; the temples themselves were dilapidated. Country women, lower-class girls, and daughters of wealthy households were all customers of the vendors who sold clothes, shoes, housewares, kitchen items, groceries, toys, and needlework supplies. A family with a hundred copper coins could enjoy a full range of tea, soup, sweets, fried food, and liquor.39 The case of the Sea of Ten Monasteries in the north of the Inner City exemplifies this transformation. During the Ming era, there was a Buddhist temple near the lake whose priests were renowned for their religious dedication. This site became a summer resort during the Qing dynasty, when Manchu and Han women came together to admire the lotus flowers in full bloom. By the early Republican era, the Sea of Ten Monasteries had grown to be a popular park and marketplace irrelevant to any religious practices. From the fifth month to the middle of the eighth month, businessmen staked out plots and erected mat-shed teashops along the wide walkway, which also served as a separating dike in the middle of the lake. Popular prepared foods and fresh fruits were sold at hundreds of stalls. Women drank tea, ate cold sweets and roast pork, watched wrestling and martial arts, and listened to the eight-angled drum, storytelling, magic acts, and operas. Actors and actresses attracted large crowds around their impromptu open-air stages. Among the frequent visitors were Manchu women wearing blue jackets, black shoes, and white socks, walking with straight backs and behaving in a noble manner.40 Writer Shi Tuo (1910–1988) noted that by the 1930s the Sea of Ten Monasteries had become a paradise for “petty urbanites” (xiaoshimin), a “group of degenerates” who indulged in raising birds, playing mah-jongg, drinking, and listening to Peking Opera while neglecting national affairs. Yet, he had to admit that those petty urbanites, male and female alike, created a forum for leisure there, particularly in the teahouses, where they sipped strong green tea, crunched watermelon seeds, and talked about Peking Yishi baihua bao, 19 June 1917. Chenbao fukan, 7 February 1922. 39  Guo Licheng, Gudu yiwang, 192–195. 40  Deng Yunxiang, Zenbu Yanjing xiangtu ji, 1:140–147. 37  38 

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Opera. Shi recognized that the Sea of Ten Monasteries was primarily a social space for the lower-middle and lower classes, while Zhongshan Park attracted patrons from elite classes.41 Many temple fairs, however, evolved into low-cost marketplaces without any aesthetic value, rivaling department stores and shopping centers as alternatives for lower-class women. Wang Bincheng, a Republican-era writer, identified why lower-class women were the main clientele: the major fairs were concentrated in the triangular area within the Dongan, Xidan, and Qian Gates, where most of the city’s poor lived. Temple fairs offered mainly inexpensive traditional wares, which attracted lowermiddle- and lower-class housewives. By contrast, the department stores in the Dongan and Xidan shopping centers carried the latest merchandise, which attracted middle- and upper-class women.42 Wang shrewdly detected the divergences in women’s social status and preferences as consumers, which drew women to different public places in the city. Zhang Zhongxing, another renowned writer, adopted a cultural approach to analyze temple fairs in the 1930s. He associated temple markets with traditional everyday life and mass culture, and shopping centers with the new and Westernized modern culture. He noted that temple markets usually were open only from noon to sunset, when laboring people could shop. Vendors traveled from fair to fair, selling a variety of merchandise. Because temple markets served mainly commoners, the goods offered were inexpensive and durable. Whereas a modern girl might purchase a pair of high-heeled shoes from a downtown shopping center, a daughter of a lower-class family would buy traditional cloth shoes at a temple fair. The latter didn’t envy the former, because walking on a pair of highheeled shoes in an alleyway would be mocked by neighbors as absurd foreign behavior. Temple markets thus facilitated local tradition and the feminine virtues of frugality and domesticity.43 Of course, as urban public sites, temple fairs were never exclusive. The distinction between temple fairs and shopping centers was not rigid; a group of new urban elites might retain a passion for traditional culture and serve as ardent customers of the fairs. Negotiation, not confrontation, between high and low cultures was thus becoming a prevailing theme. The charismatic nature of temple fairs was best demonstrated by the recruiting of new clients who fundamentally belonged to the Western-educated, modern generation. Even in the 1930s, when educated 41  Shi Tuo, “Shishahai yu xiaoshi min” [The Sea of Ten Monasteries and petty urbanites], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 254–257. 42  Wang Bincheng, “Cong jingji fangmian fenxi Beijing de miaohui.” 43  Zhang Zhongxing, “Beiping de miaohui” [Temple fairs in Beiping], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 306–310.

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daughters had their own forms of recreation, some retained their fascination with temple fairs. Westernization didn’t disrupt their traditional pastime. Zhang Xiangtian, a writer and an old Pekingese, once recalled that schoolgirls toured temple fairs with immense curiosity. The girls, wearing high-heeled shoes and exposing their ankles and legs, trembled with nervousness on the backs of the donkeys that staggered through the streets. The Big Bell Temple (Dazhongsi) and the Shrine of White Clouds (Baiyunguan) were their favorites. Zhang noted how the girls’ Westernized appearance was at odds with the traditional milieu of the fairs.44 The Opening of Theaters to Women Unlike temple fairs and free scenic sites, theaters in imperial Beijing were basically a masculine territory rarely accessible to women. The opening of theaters to women at the onset of the twentieth century resulted from the changing social mores and was a testimony to women’s increasing consumption of commercial entertainment in the city. As a semipublic terrain, theaters provided women access to entertainment as their financial situation and schedule permitted. The wine houses and teahouses where dramas were performed during the Ming and the Qing dynasties evolved into theaters in the nineteenth century. In Beijing, theaters were located mainly in the Outer City beyond the Qian Gate, as the Qing court outlawed the opening of theaters in the Inner City. Most theaters had a stage in the front surrounded on three sides by two- or three-story seating areas. Commoners usually sat in the central and side areas around the stage in so-called pool seats (chizuo), while wealthy families occupied “box seats” (louzuo) located upstairs.45 During the Daoguang reign (1821–1850), a censor found that women spectators were often seated upstairs and subsequently led the court to prohibit female audiences out of concern for “the violation of public decency.” As a result, women were excluded from theaters and were allowed to watch plays only at restaurants, temples, or provincial halls.46 The law prohibiting females in the theater was never fully enforced by the government, however. After the Boxer Protocol was signed in 1901 and the Manchu court returned to Beijing, noble and bureaucratic women started a new movement to patronize theatrical performances; they persisted despite several incidents involving harassment by foreign 44  Zhang Xiangtian, “Yi Beiping de jiusui” [Recollections of the Chinese New Year in Beiping], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 419–423. 45  Xu Ke, Qingbai leichao, 11:5043–5044. 46  Xu Ke, Qingbai leichao, 11:5065; Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 536–537.

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soldiers.47 A Japanese scholar testified that during the Qing period young women were not permitted to visit theaters or temples in Beijing because their mingling with men could lead to scandal, but this prohibition was enforced with much less vigor during the last decade of the Qing dynasty.48 By the Xuantong reign (1909–1911), many theaters in Beijing sold tickets to women. The bans on women’s admission and the building of theaters in the Inner City were finally lifted during the Republican era.49 The teahouse tradition was widely maintained, however, as tea was offered immediately after an audience sat down, and “tea money,” which included the admission cost, was collected later. Spectators dressed casually, arrived late, chatted, sipped tea, ate watermelon seeds or other snacks, and smoked. Many went to the theater to socialize or drink tea; watching the play was secondary. In the public seating areas of the theater, tables and benches were set up perpendicular to the stage, and spectators had to watch the shows over their shoulders. Upstairs were box seats for women, who were present in larger numbers but were not permitted to sit elsewhere.50 The segregation of the sexes in the theater was sustained through the end of the 1910s when mixed seating was accepted by the public and became a commonplace practice.51 Compared with men, who generally favored action or moralistic stories, women were more fascinated by “talent and beauty” (caizi jiaren), and they best enjoyed plots about free love and happy marriages. Nineteenth-century drama critic Bao Shichen once noticed that the “audience upstairs, especially women, appreciates plays about flirting, dating, and love affairs, whereas folks downstairs cheered stories of combat, robbery, and killing.”52 This observation was confirmed by Zhang Jiangcai, a scholar of drama and entertainment in old Beijing who found that in the eight small theaters in the Tianqiao area in the south of the Outer City before 1931, female Ping Opera singers attracted large numbers of women. The favorite plays of these female audience members included “Yang the Third Sister Files a Lawsuit” (“Yangsanjie gaozhuang”), “Courtesan Du the Tenth” (“Dushiniang”), “Oil Vendor Takes Flower Champion” (“Maiyuolang duzhan huakui”), and “Old Mom’s Gossip” (“Laoma

Xu Ke, Qingbai leichao, 11:5066. Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 497. 49  In the late 1910s, there were twenty-two formal theaters, plus seventeen mat-shed theaters, restaurants, provincial halls, and temples, where plays were performed regularly. Most of the theaters were in the Outer City and could accommodate audiences averaging between seven and eight hundred. See Gamble, Peking, 224. 50  Guo Hongxiao, Xiri Beijing daguan, 173–178; Hou Xisan, Beijing laoxi yuanzi, 94–95. 51  Gamble, Peking, 226. 52  Zhao Shanlin, Zhongguo xiqu guanzhong xue, 236. 47  48 

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kaibang”)—stories of love and tragedy, women’s fight for justice, or family disputes.53 The women who visited late Qing theaters in Beijing were most likely female students, bannermen’s wives and daughters, or prostitutes who accompanied their customers. Ordinary Han women were intimidated by the strong social prejudice against the intermingling of the sexes in the theater and hesitated to attend. In 1902, a newspaper reporter was surprised to find that a number of teenage girls sat among the male audience in a teahouse theater.54 Another news report, in the Beijing Women’s Daily, revealed in 1906 that Manchu women attended playhouses with great enthusiasm and mingled with men. Even the wife and daughters of a banner general went to watch the show at a theater in the Outer City and mingled with a large throng of soldiers.55 This phenomenon generated deep concern among urban elites who saw women’s presence as a social disturbance causing disputes and violence, mingling between the sexes, disruption of the traditional order, and corruption of youth.56 By the early Republican period, women from various backgrounds, including schoolgirls who teased one another when their adored stars appeared onstage and who loved salacious performances and well-to-do housewives who developed a hobby of opera singing and worshipped handsome actors, patronized theaters more frequently and casually. The actresses who played young women, mothers, or scholars were particularly revered.57 Yet in the moralists’ eyes, women’s theatergoing was troublesome, and journalists even reported with great relish what happened to female audiences. According to several news reports, women could become aggressive when they interacted with men. Prostitutes and young women fought for the favor of male patrons. In 1912, for example, the Shuntian Times reported on a wife who ran into her husband, a military commander, accompanied by a prostitute in Zhonghe Theater and cursed both for their shameful affair.58 Movies, the Zoo, Plazas, and Public Parks If temple fairs and theaters constituted a dimension of traditional leisure and associated Beijing women with the past, Western-style entertainment and public recreational facilities symbolized the transformation of leisure and introduced local women to pleasure-seeking alternatives and new Zhang Jiangcai, Renmin shoudu de Tianqiao, 189–190. Shuntian shibao, 11 September 1902. 55  Beijing nübao, 7 August 1906. 56  Shuntian shibao, 25 May 1902; 15 June 1911. 57  Liang Guojian, Gudu Beijing shehui xiang, 65. 58  Shuntian shibao, 19 April 1912. 53  54 

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ideas. Late Qing and early Republican Beijing experienced urban reforms that established a zoo and several public parks. At the same time, the booming entertainment industry built cinemas and amusement parks. Such facilities expanded the territory accessible to women. These public commercial establishments were fundamentally semipublic, however, as visitors had to purchase admission, which prevented participation by the very poor and resulted in stratification by class. While lower-class women continued their ties to temples or other age-old sites of ritual, or occasionally toured new entertainment sites, upper- and middle-class women embraced the rise of new amusements in the city, enjoying their ability to patronize both the new and the old. Both elite and laboring-class women found the new leisure places more open-minded and more egalitarian, with few ties to traditional norms, contexts, and values. Among these new forms of entertainment, the movies—introduced by the French to Shanghai audiences in 1896—were probably the most powerful. Because of the cinema’s new technology and the presentation of foreign scenes and stories, movies became popular and spread rapidly to other major cities. In 1903, merchant Lin Zhusan began to show films imported from the West at the Tianle Teahouse outside the Qian Gate. Following Lin was Manchu bureaucrat Duan Fang, who had brought foreign films with him back to China after investigating constitutional affairs abroad in 1905; he scheduled a showing for Emperor Guangxu and Empress Dowager Cixi in 1906. However, when a movie projector at his home overheated and exploded, killing three people, Duan had to cancel the event.59 Despite the tragedy, Beijing residents from dignitaries to ordinary citizens were passionate about the movies shown in theaters; even in the Forbidden City, a movie theater was set up for the imperial household.60 Theater managers applied for licenses from the Police Department to hold evening screenings. Afraid of offending the public, the Police Department didn’t reject these petitions outright, but required the installation of electric streetlights in front of the theaters to ease traffic and help ensure security before they would grant the licenses.61 Women’s patronage of movies inflamed the bureaucratic opposition, and a censor named Pishou beseeched the emperor to forbid men and women to sit together in the dark theaters.62 Unlike movie theaters, which showed only foreign films at the time, plazas featuring various shops, amusements, and service stores were a Dagong bao, 19, 22 August 1906. Dagong bao, 13 March 1910. 61  Dagong bao, 23 November 1906. 62  Fi Nan, “Guanxu sanshisan nian jingcheng shangying dianying zhizheng” [A dispute over the issue of showing movies in 1907 in the capital city], Lishi dangan [Historical archives] 3 (1995), cited in Liu Zhiqin et al., Jindai Zhongguo shehui wenhua bianqian lu, 2:421. 59  60 

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marriage of Eastern and Western cultures that customers found gratifying in many respects. The New World (Xinshijie) plaza, modeled on its Shanghai counterpart, was built in 1916 in the south of the Outer City. This huge four-story structure contained several theaters where movies, operas, new dramas, storytelling, acrobats, comedian routines (xiangsheng), and drum-songs were played, as well as restaurants, teahouses, coffee bars, barber shops, dental offices, and billiard rooms. A rooftop garden offered a view of the cityscape. This facility was the first amusement plaza to attract two thousand people on weekdays and four thousand on weekends.63 Two years later, merchant Peng Shoukang built the South City Amusement Park (Chengnan youyiyuan) in the northeast of the Temple of Agriculture (Xiannongtan). Duplicating the New World in amusements and services but more spacious, the complex drew four thousand visitors daily, and two thousand more on weekends. The park featured a large garden and a theater for female troupes. Women went to the park either in groups of friends or accompanied by their families. These facilities entertained mainly students, merchants, and officials and their spouses of the middle and lower-middle classes, however; members of the laboring class rarely could afford the 30-cent admission charged at both places.64 Movie theaters and amusement parks were private ventures, but the establishment of a zoo in the capital city was an official project. Bureaucrats Duan Fang and Dai Hongci, who had traveled to the West to study political institutions in 1905, proposed to the court that libraries, museums, zoos, and parks be built as means of educating the population. They recommended to the throne that the Board of Education and the police undertake the tasks of establishing these public facilities in Beijing as an example to the provincial governments.65 On 19 July 1907, the Beijing Zoo (Jingshi wanshengyuan) was opened in a renovated Buddhist temple using animals imported from overseas. The low cost of admission—20 cents, and half that for children and servants—made the zoo accessible to the lower classes. The schedule, however, perpetuated the custom of segregation: men and women were not allowed to visit on the same day, a rule that caused widespread resentment and was soon overturned.66 In 1908, the zoo was moved outside the Xizhi Gate, to the Universal Exhibition Garden (Bolanyuan) owned by the Beijing Agricultural Experiment Gamble, Peking, 238–239; Zhang Jiangcai, Renmin shoudu de Tianqiao, 11. Gamble, Peking, 239; Zhang Jiangcai, Renmin shoudu de Tianqiao, 15–16; and Jia Qixian and Zhou Wanming, “Chengnan youyiyuan yuqi kunjuchang” [The South City Amusement Park and its theater of actresses], in Beijing yanshan chubanshe, Gudu yihai jiying, 223–225. 65  Dagong bao, 8 December 1906. 66  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were set aside for males, and Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for females. See Dagong bao, 20 July 1907. 63  64 

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Station and the site of botanical gardens, a museum with an exhibition of agricultural implements and products, and a silkworm farm. Men and women could drink tea in the interior teahouses, go boating on the stream, or just enjoy the displays.67 The establishment of public parks was an even more significant sign of progress in urban recreation. After the collapse of the Manchu court in 1912, several of the imperial household’s properties were converted to public parks by the Republican government. In 1914, the Qing Temple of the Earth and Grain (Shejitan), located to the left of the central gate of the Forbidden City, was renovated and opened to the public as Central Park. The park offered a beautifully landscaped venue for leisure and relaxation that included an altar complex, monuments, educational facilities, and commercial establishments such as a restaurant, teahouses, a gymnasium, and a flower greenhouse.68 The Temple of Agriculture in the Outer City was renovated and became South City Park in 1917. This popular park featured magnificent temple structures, ancient trees, excellent restaurants, and a low admission price.69 The North Sea (Beihai), one of the “Three Seas” in the Imperial City, was opened by the Municipal Council as a park in 1922. The municipal government also transformed into public parks the Earth Altar (Ditan) outside the Anding Gate of the Imperial City and the Summer Palace (Yiheyuan) in the northwest suburbs. The government built an educational site, called Capital Park (Jingzhao gongyuan), on the ruins of the Earth Altar. It included a garden featuring plants from around the world (Shijie gongyuan), three pavilions with economic and political themes, and a sports field, as well as portraits and sayings from famous people that were intended to cultivate patriotism and knowledge.70 Whereas the government intended to turn public parks into educational sites, the parks fundamentally fulfilled the leisure demands of ordinary urban dwellers who sought more social and recreational spaces in the city. Young middle-class daughters, prostitutes, and other ordinary women were among the most frequent users. Yun Shi, a writer on women’s new forms of recreation, once recounted that wives and daughters of wealthy households patronized Central Park and South City Park in fashionable clothes when the weather was nice.71 Xie Xingyao (1906–?), a historian and college professor, was particularly enthralled with the teahouses in the park. The fresh air, flowers and trees, historical architecture, and peaceful environment made parks a favorite Dagong bao, 18 June 1908; Gamble, Peking, 237–238. Dong, Republican Beijing, 82–86. 69  Ma Zhiyang, Lao Beijing nüxing zhinan, 89. 70  Ma Zhiyang, Lao Beijing nüxing zhinan, 243–244; Dong, Republican Beijing, 84–86. 71  Yun Shi, Funü zhi baimian guan, 2:67. 67  68 

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destination for middle-class visitors. According to Xie, the teahouses in Central Park were known for their decor, snacks, drinks, games, and the discriminating tastes of their clientele. Elderly members of the elite class gathered at Chunmingguan, new intellectuals at Changmeixuan, and Western-influenced youth at Baisiqing. The three groups, different in almost every way, rarely mingled. Young women, “social butterflies,” Westernized schoolgirls, or “girls of small alleys” (the daughters of petty urbanites), socialized with “modern young men” (moden qingnian) and “pampered sons of wealthy families” (gongzi ge) at Baisiqing. Tea drinkers, men and women alike, enjoyed people watching (kanren) or meeting people (huiren). They stared at passersby on the road and watched for acquaintances.72 The implication of Xie’s account is that, by the 1930s, public parks had become a social space for both men and women, although young women, educated and uneducated alike, were probably more active than their mothers and aunts in seeking opportunities for dating, socializing, or other activities at these parks. They might have been targets of unwanted male attention and even sexual harassment, yet they were pioneers in defining how to interact with men, in their revolt against parental control, and in their pursuit of individuality. Girls’ association of freedom with parks and other public places was noted by a poet who derided female park lovers as women who “boast freedom with everyone they meet, and wander around parks and markets purposelessly.”73 Most significantly, parks provided ideal places for love affairs. The concepts of free love and courtship were novel and rare in early Republican Beijing, and young couples found that parks could provide a suitably romantic and anonymous environment for such pursuits. Writer Xu Yu (1908–1980) depicted a vivid scene in parks where prostitutes solicited customers, schoolgirls and young men socialized, and amorous couples kissed on lounge chairs.74 Zhang Henshui, in his famous novel The Romance of Laugh and Cry (Tixiao yinyuan), used the South City Park and Central Park as sites where drum-song girl Shen Fengxi and her boyfriend, a college student named Fan Jiashu, could date and sort out their emotional entanglement.75 Parks in Beijing played a pioneering role in the increasing mingling of the sexes.76 As public sites where strangers gathered, parks allowed young couples to evade their elders’ monitoring and neighbors’ gossiping. Just as women at temple fairs were associated with traditional customs and 72  Xie Xingyao, “Zhongshan gongyuan de chazuo” [Teahouses at Zhongshan Park], in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 321–327. 73  Baihua jiebao, 7 August 1913. 74  Xu Yu, “Beiping de fengdu” [The style of Beiping], in Jiang Deming, Beijing hu, 1:384–385. 75  Zhang Henshui, Tixiao yinyuan. 76  Shi, “From Imperial Gardens to Public Parks.”

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family needs, women at parks championed a new culture characterized by free choice, heterosocial contact, romantic love, and Western-influenced hobbies. The enjoyment that middle-class daughters derived from public parks was best described by a group of young women, most of whom spent their school years in Beijing and associated with the May Fourth intellectuals. In various forms of expression, they depicted the city’s streets, parks, Tiananmen Square, historical landmarks, and scenic suburban spots as integrated components of their everyday lives and sources of literary inspiration. Their narratives convey a sense of emancipation from sexual segregation and domestic obligations and a certain level of autonomy over time and space. Lu Jingqing (1907–?), a Yunnanese who had studied in Beijing in the 1920s before becoming a prose writer and journalist, wrote a newspaper article in 1946 about her student life in the capital city. Staying in the Yunnan Provincial Hall, she and her friends spent their leisure time together playing table tennis or Chinese chess or attending performances of the Peking Opera. Led by senior students, she toured Central Park, the Dongan Market, and Tiananmen Square and tried various local delicacies. She found touring the city to be a rewarding experience and a sort of freedom.77 Another writer, Xie Bingying (1906–1999), who had also lived in Beijing during her early years, wrote an article in 1947 extolling all the things she remembered about the city. “Loving Beiping” (“Beiping zhilian”) praised the city and expressed profound nostalgia and compassion. It seems that the liberty she obtained during the 1920s and 1930s, plus her appreciation of the city’s history and culture, shaped her positive attitude toward the city. She regarded this ancient capital as a gigantic park full of trees and flowers, as seen in the Summer Palace, Jing Hill (Jingshan), the Imperial Temple (Taimiao), Central and South Seas (Zhong Nan hai), North Sea, Central Park, and Forbidden City. She also described the city’s police, porters, and townspeople as rustic, polite, and friendly. Ultimately, she found great satisfaction in the city’s social spaces and way of life. Xie noted that the teahouse in North Sea Park attracted hundreds of tourists who enjoyed the dragon well (longjing) tea, local delicacies, and intimate chats. Young men and women were enchanted as they boated amid lotus flowers. The fruits and snacks sold at the Dongan Shopping Center (Dongan shichang) were so flavorful that shoppers wished they could take home the entire inventory.78 77  Lu Jingqing, “Zaihuai Beiping” [Bring Beiping to mind again], Beifang ribao fukan [North China daily supplement] (15 December 1946), in Jiang Deming, Beijing hu, 2:720–723. 78  Xie Bingying, “Beiping zhilian” [Loving Beiping], Wenxue de Beiping [Literary Beiping] (1947), in Jiang Deming, Beijing hu, 2:758–759.

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Xie’s realistic accounts of the city’s historical sites, parks, and markets suggest that she might have visited those places frequently and was familiar with the social rituals found there. She offered the following observations of North Sea Park: Jilan Hall, the Five Dragon Pavilion (Wulong ting), and the tea tables along the lake are fully occupied after dinner. Men accompany their girlfriends, bring their families, or invite their close friends to sit there quietly and sip the dragon well tea. They eat the special delicacies available only in Beiping, such as bean cakes, honey dates, and fried peanuts. The parks are so relaxing and peaceful. Young men and women would rather boat on the lake. The breezes blowing the lotus leaves make a “suo suo” sound, and small fish jump into the green waves. Occasionally boats enter lotus flowers, and the people on board look like [those] in moving pictures. What a charming view it is.79

Xie’s narrative reinforces the assumption that at least by the 1930s, middle-class daughters had obtained a certain degree of autonomy over their leisure time. While lower-class women were handicapped by their financial predicaments and mostly visited temple fairs, middle-class girls had the money and time to patronize parks, theaters, and shopping centers. Their financial power enlarged their physical spaces and facilitated their new cultural adventures. In a study of New York City at the beginning of the twentieth century, Kathy Peiss explored how working girls, drawn to the nascent entertainment industry, flaunted their individuality and sought male and female companionship in the new dance halls, nickelodeons, and amusement parks that were springing up across the city. These working-class daughters were alienated from the movement of middle-class women involved in campaigns for suffrage and temperance, as well as more radical politics. Yet in their own way, they epitomized a new scale of participation in public life and a sense of individuality.80 Unlike American women, Chinese women shared a lot of common ground in their quest for personal gratification. The newly opened public places and commercial entertainment venues appealed to women of various social stations. Like temple fairs, which attracted women of all social classes, theaters, cinemas, the zoo, amusement parks, and public parks didn’t appeal only to middle-class women. Self-aware activists and feminists might have perceived their patronage of these forms of entertainment as a challenge to the notion of gender distinctions and an emblem of their new self-determination. For commoner women, however, visiting these sites might simply have 79  80 

Xie Bingying, “Beiping zhilian.” Peiss, Cheap Amusements.

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represented an occasional escape from parental intervention, a space for leisure, a chance to meet men, or a fulfillment of curiosity. Recreational Activities by Girls’ Schools and Women’s Clubs Paralleling visitations to temple fairs, theaters, cinemas, parks, and the zoo were middle-class women’s adoptions of Western-style recreational activities including sports, dancing, and music. During the early twentieth century, the predominant nationalist ideology justified the anti–foot binding campaign and women’s physical exercise as central to improving Chinese motherhood and thus the qualities of future generations. Feminist views, on the contrary, associated the relationship between these new forms of women’s recreation with freedom, personal choice, and equal rights. The contexts where these new forms of recreation were found, however, were mainly girls’ schools and women’s clubs, which symbolized the burgeoning women’s emancipation movement. Whereas women from various social classes shared in patronizing amusement places and parks, it was women in the middle and upper classes who sought the pleasure of sports and new recreational interests. Sports were introduced as curricular requirements for girls’ physical education during the late Qing. In the “Regulations of Women’s Elementary and Normal Schools” published by the Qing government in 1907, foot binding was banned, and such subjects as gymnastics, games, and music were recommended to cultivate qualified wives and mothers.81 Girls’ schools in the city correspondingly offered classes in those fields. At school celebrations, sports and games were normally arranged to demonstrate students’ accomplishments to parents and guests. The School of Pleasant Instruction (Yujiao nüxuetang), for instance, sponsored an annual celebration in 1906 with students performing in gymnastics, ball carrying, a heel-and-toe walking race, and several other physical activities.82 During the early Republican years, athletic programs for girls became more popular under the belief that physical strength signaled women’s transformation from being weak, secluded, and docile creatures into independent and nationalistic spirits. In 1912, Gao Yuzhen, a member of the Society for Supporting Girls’ Schools in Beijing (Beijing nüxue weichihui), founded the Women’s Athletic Training Center in Beijing (Beijing nüzi tiyu chuanxisuo) to cultivate women’s healthy and strong character through sports training programs. Gao was convinced that a strong nation depended on a strong race, as determined by the physical condition 81  82 

Shengjing shibao, 19 April 1907. Shuntian shibao, 2, 4 December 1906.

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of women.83 Soon after, the Women’s Department of the Jinwu Athletic Association (Jinwu tiyu xiehui funü bu) initiated its new Beijing club. About eighty girls and more than eight hundred visitors were present at its opening ceremony. The program included dancing, wand drills, and martial art contests exhibiting twenty different forms of the art of self-defense. A Western spectator, awed by the girls who had mastered various combat weapons, expressed a similar response to their organized exercises: [They] showed the girls of today are indeed different from those of 20 years ago. In those days few girls dared show their faces in public, but nowadays! The united dancing drill by three entire schools was excellent, particularly as the girls had met on only two occasions to go through the practice together. There were also foreign drill and calisthenics to show that these had not been neglected.84

In the 1910s and 1920s, organized gymnastics, track events, collective dances, and other sports were reserved for girls’ school celebrations. Schoolgirls competed for medals with students in other school districts.85 As an extension of the anti–foot binding movement and a new direction in women’s outdoor activities, women’s athletics conveyed both nationalist and feminist messages. The programs not only represented the elites’ effort to build up the nation’s physical strength, but also through them female athletic teachers and coaches emerged; girls and young women learned new recreational activities with which to fill their leisure times; and the enhanced physical and psychological conditions benefited women in employment and other public interactions. Similarly, middle-class women’s new interest in Western dance and music also linked women to public occasions and public places. During the last decade of the Qing, a group of noble ladies and female students who had studied abroad befriended foreigners in the capital legation quarters, where they learned about Western customs such as receptions, sports, and ballroom dance.86 This cultural phenomenon became more common in Republican Beijing as Western influence altered the social attitude regarding interactions between the sexes in public. In the 1910s and 1920s, ballroom dance became a standard social ritual at state festivals, holiday celebrations, official receptions, and private parties. Elite women were enthralled with this imported hobby that provided opportunities Da ziyou bao, 27 July 1912. Seton, Chinese Lanterns, 251. 85  Yishi baihua bao, 3 April, 5 November 1919. 86  Rev. H. H. Lowry, “Peking, 1900–1910,” The Chinese Recorder 42, no. 7 (July 1911): 385; North China Herald, 20 May 1911. 83  84 

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to dress up and demonstrate their manners and social skills. Large-scale dance parties were held by government offices or wealthy households. On 5 February 1914, for instance, a thousand men and women joined the grand dancing party sponsored by the Foreign Ministry. A few days later, the Ministry of Transportation hosted an even bigger reception and dance, for 1,600 guests. The daughter of the foreign minister, Tang Shaoyi, in conjunction with a number of upper-class Chinese ladies, impressed the foreign diplomats with social prowess and dancing skills. An American diplomat recalled that Chinese women didn’t indicate any unfamiliarity toward such a social event. Quite the opposite—they were natural, relaxed, and elegant. They never concealed their interest in such a new type of dance.87 Within a few years, ballroom dance became hugely popular, and people began to overturn the Chinese taboo on physical contact between the sexes in public.88 Middle-class women also developed a fondness for Western music. In March 1914, a group of women from bureaucratic households formed the Women’s Friendship Society (Funü dunyihui) to promote the appreciation of Western dance and music.89 The concert-going hobby soon entered the weekend agenda of middle-class households, who showed off their familiarity with Western customs and music as a symbol of their class status. By the 1920s, women were ardent patrons of the commercial dance halls and concert centers that appeared at several sites in the city. Women’s pursuit of these recreations increased their sociability and individuality. Unlike the traditional leisure activities that had always been religious, family oriented, or female specific, these new activities were personally chosen, hobby driven, and sexually mixed. Women participants who ignored social prejudice and gossip broke down gender barriers and created a new identity associated with modernity, gender egalitarianism, free choice, and public spaces. 90 Debate on Women’s Leisure and Sociability Women’s involvement in leisure garnered various responses from society at large. The fact that ordinary women increasingly used urban public spaces for entertainment and social activities challenged the ideal and custom of sexual segregation and exposed women’s interests, hobbies, behaviors, and social interactions to public scrutiny. Elites were divided on issues pertaining to women’s freedom and rights, the types of 87  Baoluo Neienshi, Yige Meiguo waijiaoguan shihuaji [The story of an American diplomat in China], cited in Liu Zhiqin et al., Jindai Zhongguo shehui wenhua bianqian lu, 3:212. 88  Shibao, 9, 16 February 1914. 89  Shenbao, 20 March 1914. 90  Yun Shi, Funü zhi baimian guan, 1:30.

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entertainment appropriate for women, the heterosocial contact generated by women’s outdoor agendas, and the political and moral meanings of women’s forms of social gratification. The controversy was much less class oriented than attitude defined, however. Because urban elites embraced various guidelines and objectives during the transformation into the modern era, they provided women with distinctive advice. Female reformers regarded temple visitations as a sign of women’s backwardness and distraction from meaningful causes. During the late Qing, a small group of Manchu and Han elite women advocated women’s rights and independence in the city and used urban public spaces for feminist goals. Their engagement in nationalist-oriented activities such as the founding of girls’ schools, periodicals, or clubs distinguished them from most ordinary women, who considered public spaces as their fundamental resources and everyday needs. Female reformers were sympathetic to the economic plight of lower-class women but disapproved of their ways of making a living, leisure activities, and rituals. The Beijing Women’s Daily was a forum where female reformers gave moral guidance to ordinary women.91 One article, titled “Looking for Troubles Themselves” (“Zixun kunao”) and published in the journal in 1906, expressed a deep distrust of temple societies and affiliated events. The author called participants in temple parades “the most savage of savages” and criticized ordinary women for mindlessly joining in. According to the author, women at temple parades were vulnerable to three kinds of harm. First, the environment was unhealthy. Women mingling with the summer crowds often got sick afterward. Second, children would be scared by parades that showed ghosts and monsters. Third, the sun or rain at temple fairs made women look dirty and disheveled. The author’s criticism was not social, but physical. There is an apparent disparity between these views and the male elites’ disapproval of mingling of the sexes at temple fairs. The author apparently disliked temple parades not because any social taboos were violated, but because they were religious, violent, and premodern.92 91  The Beijing Women’s Daily was founded by Du Yunxiang and her son, Zhang Yushu, a leading reformer in the city. The managing editor was Bao Shufang, headmistress of a girls’ school and daughter of Prince Su, who was on the editorial board along with reformer Wang Zizhen. Bao’s involvement implies that the paper was a mouthpiece for Manchu women’s activism. Editor in Chief Du stated that the mission of the paper was to inform ordinary women and promote women’s education through the use of plain language. In addition to news on women’s issues, biographies of eminent women, novels, dramas, and poems by or about women, the paper carried an opinion column that helped readers understand the issues associated with the reform of marriage, family education, customs, behavior, and economic life. See Jiang Weitang and Liu Ningyuan, Beijing funü baokan kao, 1905–1949, 35–72. 92  Beijing nübao, 20 July 1906.

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Female reformers were convinced that women’s indulgence in exaggerated lifestyles and entertainment would lead to their financial predicament and moral fall. They associated Manchu women’s poverty with their inclination to seek comfort and pleasure and recommended that they instead practice frugality and discipline. Dong Zhuxun, a Manchu woman and frequent contributor to the paper, wrote an article titled “Tragic Bannermen” (“Shangzai qiren”) that revealed her shame in being Manchu and her strong desire for reform. She criticized Manchu women for being ignorant, unrealistic, and competitive with those who could afford nice food and clothes. They dressed up every day and wandered around temple fairs and shops. Desire to be like their peers led some women to lose their sense of propriety and become sex workers. To preserve Manchu women’s face and find a means for their survival, she proposed that the government force Manchu men and women to abandon their leisurely lifestyles and become productive citizens.93 Female reformers cherished the term “open-mindedness” (kaitong), referring to a positive attitude toward new culture and an active public life. Yet, they separated their political-oriented activism from other women’s daily doings in public and attempted to guide other women in so-called serious matters (zhengjing shi). They used a new moral approach: they were opposed to women’s seclusion and encouraged women to be involved in nationalist or feminist affairs, but they chastised ordinary women for their “frivolous” pursuits and urged them to behave “properly” in public spaces. One speech, “Open-Mindedness Is Not Like That” (“Kaitong bushi zheyang jiang”), given in 1907, drew a clear line between public activism and indulgence in entertainment. The speaker commented on the improper use of public spaces: The Chinese are conservative, and their women are afraid of being seen by strangers. If women expose themselves in public and walk on the streets, they feel great shame. Today it is all right to break this rule. Who can say anything if women are involved in serious matters and walking down the street? Yet, ordinary women take advantage of the term “open-mindedness” and do whatever they like. (I am not saying that they are totally wrong, but that their behavior is sometimes uncivilized.) Someone saw a concubine from a bureaucratic household riding in a rickshaw on the fifteenth day of the first month. When asked where she was going, she answered that she was planning to tour Changdian. (If she was truly open-minded, why did she wander around a lantern market?) A housewife was walking down the street in front of Qian Gate. Her relative asked her where she was heading, and she said she was going to a funeral. There are many genteel wives and daughters who 93 

Beijing nübao, 11 July 1906.

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never left their houses just a few years ago. (Attention, please. That is not good.) Now they are very open-minded and go out frequently. It would be great if they could go to school or become friends with other women. But they would rather tour the zoo or visit exhibitions. (Of course they can go to those places. Yet, I am afraid that they don’t do anything important and are simply indulging in these tours.) Otherwise, they find a number of female companions and play mah-jongg. They call those who question their behavior “conservatives” and doubt whether those people understand them. Alas, that is what has become of so-called open-mindedness. If they use the term in this way, we definitely disagree with them.94

The passage indicates reformers’ anxiety about the new phenomenon of genteel women mingling with lower-class women on the streets. Tension was high between reformers who acted to promote their feminist agenda and women who merely sought amusements outside the home. The reformers intended merely to counsel these women on the direction of public involvement, not to return them to their previous isolation at home. In contrast to female reformers who proposed the politicization of women’s public presence, many male elites disapproved of having women engage in social activities in public. Even those who eventually came to support Western influences and reform never abandoned the traditional moral principles that underpinned female domesticity. One anonymous politician, in an interview with a newspaper reporter in 1915, discussed this paradox. He criticized women’s seclusion throughout history and pointed out that the notion of an “inner sphere” cultivated women’s ignorance and stubbornness. Old-fashioned women, he continued, could not keep up with modern trends. Yet, he was also disgusted with modern women whose lives were filled with little besides visits, parties, meetings, entertainment, and social interactions. Despite gaining knowledge of public affairs, he said, these women neglected their domestic duties and their children’s education.95 In the era of the New Culture and the May Fourth Movements, new intellectuals in Beijing sponsored a women’s emancipation movement as a key component of national modernity. Scholars, seeking the root of the Chinese “slave character” from the combined influences of family, lineage, and the state, revealed the ways in which conventional virtues, customs, and institutions subjugated women. The oppression of women signified the backwardness of the Chinese culture, and elevation of women’s status and rights would result in the nation’s gaining a reputation

94  95 

Beijing nübao, 10 September 1907. Shuntian shibao, 18 March 1915.

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as a modern power.96 Their discourse on women and modernity focused on the issue of women’s rights in leisure and social interactions, which was presumptively significant for promoting gender egalitarianism and women’s individuality. In response to the restrictive norms and rules against women’s sitting with men in theaters and assembly halls; their association with male colleagues, guests, or strangers at school or in the workplace; or their intermingling with men at parks, temple fairs, or other leisure sites, the new cultural elites attacked the notion of sexual segregation and the practice of associating inner and outer spheres with one’s gender. Chen Duxiu pointed out that sexual separatism served as a barrier to women’s economic autonomy, political participation, and social interactions with males.97 Lu Xun vigorously argued that the importance placed on chastity deprived women of their rights to remarry and to interact freely with others and was an emblem of their continued oppression.98 Yang Chaosheng raised the slogan of “breaking down gender barriers and cultivating men’s and women’s independent characters” in 1919. He noted that Confucian teaching drew a line between men and women and disapproved of any social communication between the two sexes. The cult of female chastity was an obstacle to the kind of healthy heterosocial culture that would foster noble personalities and true morality.99 The focal point in the debate over women’s leisure and public presence was the freedom of males and females to interact. Conservatives suspected that women’s outdoor pleasures might generate amoral conduct and so condemned heterosocial contact in public, free love, and women’s involvement in leisure activties as an undesirable result of Western cultural intrusion and a threat to the Chinese national essence. An elite man who wrote under the pen name Qiuwong resisted the new cultural current and ridiculed the young and Western-educated generation for dreaming of a world where they could mix with the opposite sex (including having casual sex), dance, sing foreign songs, and eat Western dinners. He joked that the North Sea in Beijing should become a paradise for those who want to seduce one another’s spouses, watch salacious plays, gamble, engage the services of prostitutes, or play all kinds of evil 96  Croll, Feminism and Socialism in China; Ono, Chinese Women in a Century of Revolution; Borthwick, “Changing Concepts of Women from the Late Qing to the May Fourth Period,” in Pong and Fung, Ideal and Reality, 63–91; Barlow, The Question of Women in Chinese Feminism; Gilmartin, Engendering the Chinese Revolution; and Wang, Women in the Chinese Enlightenment. 97  Chen Duxiu, “Kongzi zhidao yu xiandai shenghuo” [Confucianism and modern life] (1915), in Chen Duxiu, Chen Duxiu wenzhang xuanbian, 1:103. 98  Ono, Chinese Women in a Century of Revolution, 97–99. 99  Yang Chaosheng, “Nannü shejiao gongkai” [Opening up heterosocial interactions], Xin qingnian 6, no. 4 (April 1919).

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games. “It can be run in the name of promoting the new culture, but in reality it is a foreign concession.”100 Another man, named Shi Yi, rejected women’s immediate adoption of the new social outlets. He argued that although traditional education and customs cultivated women’s slavelike character, which subjugated women in their associations with men, freedom in heterosocial interactions could give men opportunities to seduce or take advantage of women, of their vanity and dependency. Using the tone of a women’s rights supporter, he proposed an educational approach to strengthen women’s personalities as a precondition of their socializing with men.101 If Shi was not an outright adversary of women’s freedom in their social lives, he was at least indifferent toward their interactions with men. New cultural elites, on the contrary, proposed free social interaction between men and women under the belief that women had equal character and rights to men and thus were entitled to the same freedoms. Shen Yanbing argued that the opening of heterosocial contact would convert an abnormal situation into a normal one. He advocated mutual fidelity between wives and husbands, removal of the harmful entertainment and customs that insulted women’s character, improvement in men’s attitude toward women, and abolition of sexual segregation in public as preparations for free heterosocial contact.102 Li Hanjun agreed, adding that in primitive societies, women and men were equal in social status and in the freedom to make friends. Yet in later societies, he argued, men’s control of wealth led to the teaching of female chastity, which confined women to their inner chambers. The solution to the issue of women’s seclusion and the importance placed on their chastity thus lay in promoting women’s employment, education, inheritance rights, and a correct attitude toward men and sexuality.103 Another rationale was that socialization between the sexes could help improve marriage. Xu Yanzhi pointed out that the greatest sorrow of most Chinese was the arranged marriage. The promotion of heterosocial contact could bring about free-choice marriage and alleviate this source of emotional distress.104 Another writer claimed that those who were afraid of heterosocial interactions were overreacting. Chenbao fukan, 11 December 1921. Chenbao, 13, 18–20 June 1919. 102  Shen Yanbing, “Nannü shejiao gongkai wenti guanjian” [My view on heterosocial interactions], Funü zazhi 6, no. 2 (February 1920), in Zhonghua quanguo funü lianhehui funü yundong lishi yanjiushi, Wusi shiqi funü wenti wenxuan, 181–184. 103  Li Hanjun, “Nannü shejiao yinggai zenyang jiejue” [How can we solve the issue of heterosocial interactions?], Funü pinglun [Women’s review] 7 (14 September 1921), in Zhonghua quanguo funü lianhehui funü yundong lishi yanjiushi, Wusi shiqi funü wenti wenxuan, 185–189. 104  Chenbao, 4 May 1919. 100  101 

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He joked that the worst result of free contact between men and women was love and marriage. There was nothing wrong with situations where people could get to know one another and possibly marry.105 Still, the new cultural elites focused mainly on educated men and women whose comprehension of Western culture and morality enabled them to have “appropriate, pure, and dignified” social interactions and scorned ordinary people’s social activities, which they believed produced hoodlums, loose women, and scandals.106 The May Fourth elites, for their part, didn’t fully support women’s leisure and young people’s heterosocial interaction. They viewed the construction of a modern nation as much more important than the goal of individual freedom and happiness. Women’s mobility and sociality constituted an integral component of women’s emancipation, which was a prerequisite for nation building. A moral education for the national welfare was thus needed to transform women whose education, dress, lifestyle, and political awareness would symbolize the nation’s status as modern or not.107 Undue emphasis on entertainment and heterosocial contact, it was feared, could divert the younger generations from the higher cause of modernity and arouse opposition from traditionalists. Zheng Zhenduo claimed that free love and courtship, as found at the zoo, Summer Palace, South City Amusement Park, and Central Park, was harmful to Chinese youth seeking fresh alternatives to the restrictions they had known as children. He added that the primary concern of China is the national transformation rather than the opening up of heterosocial contact and sexual liberation. The issue of cross-sex sociality is related to national problems, but it can never be overstated.… I am afraid that this freedom will cause unexpected damages and arouse young people’s sexual desires. The light of national construction could vanish because of it.108

Zheng argued that cross-sex socialization and free love could distract young people from their studies and divert their attention from national affairs. Women who offered friendship and romance to men could bring shame to the cause of women’s liberation and give conservatives an Chenbao fukan, 17 December 1921. Chenbao, 20 May 1919. 107  The May Fourth intellectuals attacked Confucian China and traditional women. They conceived of new women as politically aware, patriotic, independent, and educated. They monitored changes in women as a way to restore their control over society and imagined a new nation through the discourse of modern women. See Edwards, “Policing the Modern Woman in Republican China.” 108  Chenbao, 16–17 August 1920. 105  106 

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excuse to attack the new culture. He attributed social exchanges between men and women to selfish impulses and encouraged youth to associate with manual laborers and peasants in the societal reform project.109 Like Zheng, a female student named Xie Wanying was concerned about the reputation of schoolgirls and put forward a noble agenda for her middle-class sisters. She described the shifting of societal attitudes toward female students from worship to disgust and then to respect, and she concluded that these perceptions were shaped by women’s own behavior. Girls at the time of the 1911 Revolution embraced radical ideas and revolted against traditional womanhood. Their political participation and seemingly bizarre activities earned them the label of “social evils.” She claimed that schoolgirls of her generation understood their responsibility to the nation and could cultivate a new morality for women’s education. She criticized those who wore jewelry and fashionable clothing as extravagant and destructive to the reputation of educated women, and she also discredited theaters, amusement parks, and other entertainment centers as outlandish temptations that could disrupt women’s peaceful minds and arouse their materialistic inclinations. She suggested that concerts, museums, or research seminars would be appropriate, interesting, and noble activities for schoolgirls. From a pragmatic viewpoint, she warned schoolgirls not to have “unnecessary contact” with men. Unlike male conservatives, who always related women’s leisure and public agendas to moral disorder, Xie supported girls’ entertainment and public presence as long as they involved political or academic pursuits. She advocated Western-style cultural interests and downplayed old-fashioned amusements or those of no political significance. She advised her schoolmates to concentrate on getting an education or take up new hobbies to build their image and character, and she stated that women should sacrifice their personal pleasure to serve the majority of the Chinese population.110 Ultimately, those who supported open contact between the sexes constituted a very small proportion of the new elites. Most educated men who shared a nationalist vision were suspicious of Western customs and women’s leisure activities. They regarded some amusements and related social practices as destructive to women’s modern progress and thereby suggested changes. Other forms of entertainment, however, they accepted and attempted to use to fulfill nationalist goals. For instance, the popularity of temple fairs generated concern among urban reformers, who associated this pastime with the nation’s backwardness and embrace of superstition. A group of sociologists decided to investigate temple fairs 109  110 

Chenbao, 16–17 August 1920. Chenbao, 4 September 1919.

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in the 1920s so that they could convince the general public of the harms found in this age-old custom and of the benefits of the new culture. Despite their temporary tolerance of temple fairs for pragmatic reasons, they criticized the naïveté of pilgrims and the deceptive practices of religious societies. They also argued that women and children were victims of these harmful temple performances. Some proposed the development of Western-style substitutes.111 Others used the news media to condemn temple practices. Reform-oriented newspapers published reports of women who violated moral norms at temple fairs: a man and woman wearing Western clothes, for instance, were said to be “falsely civilized” when they toured the Temple of the God of Mt. Tai (Dongyuemiao) and prayed for a son; two young women who took a boat with a monk to visit the Dragon God Temple (Longwangmiao) also invited mockery; and poor young women who walked with men or squeezed alongside them on boats to travel to temples were ridiculed as cheap, dirty, dangerous, and morally offensive.112 Under the standards of the new elites, the wildly popular temple visitations ran counter to modern science, healthy entertainment, nationalist ethics, and the new womanhood. Temple fairs attracted women to dangerous gatherings where they could engage in amoral conduct, watch meaningless or detrimental parades or other performances, and cultivate superstition. Compared to temple fairs, theaters and movies were thought to promote educational values and thus were useful mechanisms for the development of a new nation. Urban reformers disputed with ordinary residents regarding what was appropriate behavior in the theater (including the performances themselves) and demanded significant changes. The staff of the Vernacular Daily for Benefiting Society (Yishi baihua bao), which spearheaded the urban reform movement in Beijing during the 1910s and 1920s, frequently criticized plays and audiences in theaters and proposed censorship and discipline. A columnist named Mei Kui argued that storytelling and regional opera were two of the most powerful instruments for social reform because ordinary folks liked and understood them. Plays promoting morality and appropriate family relations could change popular culture through their effects on female spectators.113 When a play 111  Zhao Zhiping, “Jiuli xinnian zhong Beijing miaohui de diaocha” [Investigation on temple fairs in Beijing during the Chinese New Year] (1922), in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 259–260; Gu Jiegang, “Miaofengshan jinxiang zhuanhao yinyan” [Preface of the special issue on the pilgrimage to Mt. Miaofeng), Jingbao fukan [Beijing daily supplement] 147 (13 May 1925), in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 68–73; and Rong Shaozu, “Miaofengshan jinxiangzhe de xinli” [The psychology of pilgrims at Mt. Miaofeng], Jingbao fukan 147 (13 May 1925), in Jiang Deming, Rumengling, 80–84. 112  Yishi baihua bao, 11 March, 26, 27 April, 20 May, 6 August 1917. 113  Yishi baihua bao, 29 April 1920.

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titled Two Beauties Compete for a Husband (Shuangmei zhengfu) appeared in the Dangui Theater in 1917, the newspaper editor attacked the performances as vulgar and suggested that the work be revised to emphasize the theme of family reform. He also denounced the seating of men and women together as ruinous to public decency and dignity and advised decent mothers not to bring their daughters to the theater.114 Another editor was especially annoyed with actresses’ plays and asserted that their exaggerated and flirtatious styles and their fans’ crazy responses distorted the reformist nature of the stage arts and threatened women’s morality.115 Only a very small number of Western-influenced elites approved of the mingling of the sexes in public. Most rejected the notion because they believed that ordinary citizens were ignorant and lacked political ideals and sound moral judgment, and thus they were vulnerable to sexual seduction. A contributor to the newspaper listed three theaters in the Dongan Shopping Center that allegedly violated the rule of separating the two sexes and advised the theater owners to refuse to let women enter and to expel actresses from the troupes.116 Political reformers also expected the movies, like live theater, to mirror their political views. New elites realized that, because movies were more powerful in social education than traditional forms of storytelling, paintings, novels, and slides and were especially appealing to women and children, this new medium should be used to fortify ethics and patriotism.117 Elite society in Beijing intended to use the news media to correct the “unhealthy inclinations” found in movies. One reporter, after listening to the speeches of members of the Society for Social Reforms (Shehui gailianghui), commented that the movies shown at the Central Park theater introduced detrimental European customs such as violence and kissing and thus deserved restriction.118 Another man, the May Fourth writer Chen Dabei, warned the movie theater in Central Park to be cautious after showing the movie The Theft of the Female Errant (Xianü dao). He recommended prohibiting detective movies that might teach people how to commit crimes and showing movies that promoted knowledge and artistic values instead.119 New elites wanted to use movies to propagate national modernity, yet petty urbanites embraced detective, action, and romance movies and ignored these recommendations. In the 1920s and 1930s, movies based on the novels of the Mandarin Duck and Butterfly Yishi baihua bao, 2 March 1917. Yishi baihua bao, 9 March 1917. 116  Yishi baihua bao, 21 June 1917. 117  Yishi baihua bao, 29 March 1917. 118  Chenbao, 10 August 1915. 119  Chenbao, 31 May 1921. 114  115 

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school (Yuanyang hudiepai) became popular, especially with women, in Beijing and other cities.120 During the Ming and Qing dynasties, Beijing women’s seclusion was tempered by leisure activities that took place in urban public spaces. Temple grounds and scenic sites were places of seasonal retreats for women across classes, whereas street corners and alleyways were happy niches for lower-class daughters and wives. The consumption of public spaces for leisure, however, was nothing but an adjustment to a woman’s domestic confinement, the more so the higher her social standing and educational level. The faith in and practice of women’s seclusion were diminished only through the late Qing and early Republican periods, when the city was moving out of the imperial shadow and opening more recreational facilities to women. Even as temple fairs continued to provide free and frequent amusements for lower-class women, theaters, movie houses, and amusement parks constituted a commercialized entertainment accessible to those who could afford to buy admission tickets. To the contrary, the zoo and public parks, which provided more social spaces to the general public, men and women alike, were consequences of urban reforms. If, during the Ming and Qing dynasties, places for women’s leisure were available only occasionally and were generally family oriented or gender specific, the early twentieth-century recreational places were open every day and were individualistic and somehow egalitarian. Women’s leisure was not merely diversified and spatially extended, but also associated with the idea of liberation. Elites were divided on the issue of women’s outdoor leisure and social pursuits. A small number of new cultural elites approved of this new social freedom but downplayed it as secondary to the nationalist or feminist cause. Other elite reformers had reservations about women’s entertainment and the mixing of the sexes in public. The old notion of gender distinctions lingered in elites’ discussions of the changing nature of public spaces and the relationships between men and women.

120  Perry Link argues that along with the May Fourth writers who commanded a small circle of Western-influenced elite readers, Zhang Henshui and other writers in the Butterfly school produced popular novels that appealed to a much larger readership among middleclass members and petty urbanites. See Link, Mandarin Ducks and Butterflies, 1–39.

Figure 5: Illustration of women sitting on the second floor of a theater. (From Beijing xingshi huabao [Beijing wakening world pictorial], 22 December 1909.)

FIVE

Actresses

Unlike most family-oriented ordinary women, who used public spaces as their auxiliary territories, stage actresses treated public spaces as their homes and workplaces. As professional artists, they were trained, gifted, and, in many cases, accomplished. Despite often humble origins, they entered a public realm newly opened to them as rivals to male actors. They shared the same class background as streetwalkers yet had access to fame and wealth. They were contract workers, self-employed, or business managers who worked outside the home. Like courtesans, they were alienated from mainstream family life and associated their sexuality with the entertainment industry.1 In theory, actresses didn’t sell their bodies but their art. Their sexuality was available only in their audience’s imagination. In terms of publicity, they overshadowed courtesans by performing for men and women of all social classes, traveling widely, and being prominently featured in the news media. Nonetheless, their work in the commercial theater complicated gender relations and further underscored women’s paradoxical identities. They could be accomplished artists that male elites applauded, female role models that the government manipulated, or immoral and dangerous women that officials and policemen attempted to constrain. The government banned female performers from the public stage beginning in the late Ming, and male actors then performed all roles. The Manchu rulers kept the law prohibiting actresses and excluded women from the theater either as performers or as audience members.2 It was only in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that actresses began to resurface in major cities. As early as the 1870s, traveling troupes of actresses performed at private affairs in Beijing. Siblings You Jinhua and 1  Susan Mann argues that there were two foundations for women’s sexuality: one built on the family and child rearing and one based on prostitution (see “What Can Feminist Theory Do for the Study of Chinese History?,” 241–260). 2  Dolby, A History of Chinese Drama; Tan Fan, Youling shi.

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You Yuhua entered the city during the late Guangxu reign, performing in a mat-shed theater for a few days before being ousted by local authorities. After 1901, more female artists arrived from Zhili Province (Hebei Province) or Manchuria and performed illegally in the Tianqiao area. Zhao Bingjun, interior minister of the Republic, lifted the sanctions against actresses in 1912 as a means to stimulate local commerce. A theater manager, Yu Zhenting, with police permission, subsequently invited a group of actresses from Tianjin to join him at the Wenming Theater. Other managers followed and soon competed with one another in the hiring of women. In just a few years, actresses occupied most major theaters in Beijing and drew audiences away from all-male performances. A source from 1917 provided the names of one hundred actresses who played constantly in the city.3 Another record showed that by 1920 some 194 women had signed contracts with theaters in Beijing and performed diverse roles in the Peking Opera and other regional dramas.4 The thriving careers of some stage actresses were the result of the development of urban commercial entertainment. This phenomenon signifies not only the deterioration of gender separatism and the shifting interests of audiences in the urban theater, but also a recognition of women’s public employment. Men desired to see women on stage, and poor women viewed acting as a shortcut to wealth and fame.5 Feminist scholars of the European and American theater now concur that actresses were extraordinary working women, competing with men and often succeeding in a male-dominated public arena. These pioneers challenged the traditional notion of gender traits as inherent and immutable, and they delivered the message of feminism.6 Because of the long-standing prejudice that equated female performers with courtesans in China, Chinese actresses had a relatively lower status than their Western counterparts. Yet as agents of popular culture, Chinese actresses conveyed conflicting ideas, values, and beliefs that reached both elites and commoners. They enacted historical and contemporary prototypes and presented women’s life experiences on stage, and these presentations resonated with their female audiences. They impressed other women not only because they exposed themselves to public curiosity, questioning, or criticism, but also because they became independent, professional, and 3  Yan Shi, Beijing nüling baiyong [A hundred poems on actresses in Beijing] (1910), quoted from Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 205. 4  Xing Shi, “Shinianqian pingshi kunling timinglu” [List of actresses’ names in Beiping ten years ago], Xiju yuekan 2, no. 11 (July 1930): 1–15. Sidney Gamble knew of at least eleven theaters that hired female performers in early Republican Beijing (Peking, 224). 5  Qin Gongwu, “Kunling hongyun zhi qiyuan.” 6  Davis, Actresses as Working Women; Howe, The First English Actresses; Dudden, Women in the American Theatre; and Aston, An Introduction to Feminism and Theatre.

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sometimes successful role models. They worked with male actors, troupe managers, and theater owners and, more often than not, also consorted with male aficionados, thus breaking the rule of gender distinctions and acquiring a kind of freedom beyond their homes. As Jiang Jin puts forward, women’s entrance into the opera market, as both consumers and producers, was central to the transformation of the male-dominated opera culture of the Qing dynasty to a female-centered one in the twentieth century.7 Yet this freedom, notoriety, and economic clout came at a steep price. Violation of conventional feminine virtues invited condemnation, and competition with men for professional status and prosperity caused tension and resentment. Furthermore, maintaining a physical presence as a character in the public space invited objectification. A beautiful young performer might be treated as a mere sexual plaything subject to harassment or other offenses, a condition that Faye Dudden calls the “body problem.”8 Actresses faced two mutually exclusive options: the mundane but decent existence of traditional domesticity, or the disgrace and rootlessness of potential stardom. They seemingly had to trade their art, looks, or even sexuality for a shot at success and fame. Their prosperity in the public realm depended on their negotiation between the role of professional women and the roles of entertainers, social butterflies, and loyal students of their male teachers. Actresses exemplified lower-class women’s accomplishment and quandary in the public domain. This chapter scrutinizes the emergence, struggles, and strategies of actresses who spent considerable time in Beijing. The analysis will focus on the actresses’ dilemma: their career successes and their experiences as they were pursued, threatened, and exploited by commercial or political forces. Through the example of the Society for Championing Virtues (Kuideshe), the chapter explores the relationship between young actresses and the reformers who sought to control the theater. Here, I argue that, as public figures, actresses were valuable to many different sectors of society. Those who succeeded paid a high price. Public spaces provided opportunities for their social elevation but also increased their risk of being exploited by men. Their controversial identities were shaped by the roles they chose, the lifestyles they adopted, and the social relationships they generated. 7  Jiang, “Women and Public Culture.” For actresses’ roles in the theater and society, see Cheng, “The Challenge of the Actresses.” 8  Faye Dudden defines women’s “body problem” onstage thusly: “To be present in the body carries with it the inherent risk of being taken as a sexual object against one’s will— in sexist deprecation, in sexual harassment, in physical assault” (Women in the American Theatre, 3).

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The Rise of Actresses By definition, the Chinese theater was structured around unequal gender concepts and relations. The theater was a workplace for both male and female actors. Still, integration of the sexes didn’t eradicate gender distinctions but brought forth another way of subjugating women. Living outside socially defined constraints, actresses always found themselves alone and vulnerable. They were subject to the hierarchy and rules established by men and were underrated as trivial or inferior. Thanks to centuries of male dominance, the theater was an unfriendly place for women. First, actresses were excluded from leadership positions in the guilds in which they worked. The first theatrical guild in Beijing was founded in the seventeenth century and was led by actors Cheng Changgeng, Tan Xinpei, and Tian Jiyun. The guild owned two properties: the Loyalty Temple (Jingzhongmiao) and the Theatrical Lodge (Liyuanguan). It also served as a club and a charity home for actors, assisting with accommodations, retirement, poverty funds, and burials. In 1924, a new assembly hall was built, associated with a temple in the rear of the guild property called the Nine Gods Temple (Jiuhuangtang). The gods worshipped there, Buddhist and Taoist, were all male. Actors playing the roles of priests held a worship ceremony at the temple each September on behalf of the entire acting trade.9 The second obstacle to actresses was that women were considered to be harmful contaminants of the theatrical enterprise. When a new theater opened, its manager would always conduct an “opening stage” (puotai) ceremony that involved two groups of performers. Around midnight, the “terrifying god” (shasheng) actor along with four “spiritual officials” (lingguan) would chase the “female ghost” (nügui), played by an actress. The terrifying god would kill a rooster, spill five kinds of grain, and break five black bowls. Finally, he would exterminate the female ghost by finding and burning the effigy of the ghost previously hidden onstage and conclude the cleansing ritual. The actress playing the ghost had to exit the front door and return to the stage through a side door.10 Third, discrimination against women was manifested by the hierarchy of dramatic roles in the Peking Opera. Since the very beginning, the role of the old man (laosheng) was ranked highest, and the actor playing the role was revered. The role of a young woman (huadan) was played by a minor actor and disdainfully called the “house servant” (sifang). That

9  Zhang Jiangcai (Cixi), “Yanguilai yi cuibi” [Jottings at the Swallow-Returning Study], in Zhang Jiangcai, Qingdai yandu liyuan shiliao, 2:1213–1219. 10  Wang Shuyang, “Jingjuban jiusu baiti”; Li Chang, Qingdai yilai de Beijing juchang, 120.

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person was normally assigned such chores as thanking patrons for their gifts, carrying signs onstage, or collecting orders from the audience.11 Yet, the antiwomen tradition of the theatrical guild didn’t prevent the rise of actresses in early twentieth-century Beijing. Girls became theatrical apprentices at very young ages and rarely made a conscious decision to enter the profession. Their desperate parents or guardians usually made the choice for them out of financial concerns. As the entertainment industry boomed during the early twentieth century, many poor families in Beijing and surrounding areas saw opportunities for their daughters. Training opera singers quickly became a profitable business. Only very gifted and diligent girls succeeded, however. The average apprenticeship lasted five or six years, and students usually stayed with their tutors or were coached at home. They rose at dawn to practice elocution and other fundamentals, and in the afternoon they sat backstage to watch and learn from real actors. Early on, in terms of physical appearance, voice, and natural qualities, child actresses were assigned one of the characteristic roles in Chinese theater. Although most girls studied female roles (huadan or qingyi), those who possessed broad facial features, which provided a larger canvas for makeup, and an aptitude for physical stunts might be assigned to the martial (wu) category of male warrior roles. The rigorous discipline and conventions completely molded female apprentices within a system of representation, expression, and dramatic behavior that constructed, or reconstructed, each person. The apprentice went beyond her own private experience to enter the realm of theatrical practice, crossing a boundary between self-definition and theatrical impersonation.12 An actress could adopt a particular role’s mannerisms and physical appearance as her own. The persona that the apprentice constructed accompanied her throughout her life. Apprentice actresses, for all their efforts, did not have days off or even earn their own income. Any mistakes during rehearsals would mean physical punishment. The difficult life and strict discipline in the training period generally didn’t overwhelm young apprentices, however. Many eagerly sought the opportunity for upward social mobility and competed for good teachers and stage roles.13 After finishing their apprenticeships, young actresses started their careers in lowly quarters. Low pay, chaotic work environments, and harassment from managers with gangster connections were commonplace. Performing girls, if they were not celebrated, usually began their 11  Xu Jiulin, “Liyuan yiwen” [Anecdotes of the theater], in Zhang Jiangcai, Qingdai yandu liyuan shiliao, 2:841–846. 12  Isabelle Duchesne, “The Chinese Opera Star: Roles and Identity,” in Hay, Boundaries in China, 217–242. 13  Zhang Cuifeng, Dagu shengya de huiyi, 12–14; Xin Fengxia, Yishu shengya, 226–238.

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careers in the female drum-song houses (kunshuguan) or female opera houses (luoziguan) in Tianqiao, a laboring-class entertainment district in the middle of the Outer City, with all kinds of theaters, shops, flea markets, restaurants, pawnshops, street vendors, and strolling performers.14 During the early Republican era, nearly twenty theaters were squeezed into this square-mile area. The bigger theaters could hold seven or eight hundred people, whereas the small ones could hold only one hundred. These theaters were simple sheds, with iron-tile roofs and earthen stages. Gatekeepers loudly called out to pedestrians to buy tickets, which cost only a few coins. Many young actresses chose Tianqiao as their starting point because the area was a well-known center for recycling, folk entertainment, and food markets, which appealed to people of all social statuses and occupations, providing a “utopia of integration” and sense of anonymity.15 Junior performers needed this less-formal rehearsal stage to improve their art, learn from peers, and find patrons who might promote them and, if they were lucky, help them attain contracts with more prestigious theaters. The most popular forms of entertainment in Tianqiao were the drumsong (gushu) and the Ping Opera (pingxi). Drum-song was northern folk entertainment played by a young woman who beat with both hands a small drum supported by a frame and a clapper and sang stories from popular novels and dramas. She was accompanied by a musician who played a three-stringed instrument (sanxian). Unlike drum-song, which was mainly storytelling, Ping Opera was singing and dancing that followed a dramatic plot. Actresses in these professions, despite struggle with unbearable noise, dirty air, and interruptions by local thugs or fans, earned but a pitiful income. Drum-song girls sat on the stage all day long, waiting for orders. Their programs were not advertised; a waiter showed the audience a fan with the names of songs on it. Once in a while, the waiter beat a gong and collected change. A singer’s wage was determined by the number of orders she had taken.16 Actresses in Tianqiao fell into two categories: the “mobile contractor” (ganbao) and the “sitting contractor” (zuobao). Mobile contractors were better-established artists who played the major roles in the opera. They worked for a number of theaters simultaneously and carefully coordinated their schedules so they could earn extra income. Sitting contractors 14  Tianqiao (Bridge of Heaven) was an old marble bridge outside Qian Gate. Visitors crossed it to reach the Temple of Heaven. Since the fifteenth century, Tianqiao had been an entertainment and commercial center for lower-class visitors. See Bredon, Peking, 477; Zhang Jiangcai, Tianqiao yilan; Zhang Jiangcai, Renmin shoudu de Tianqiao. 15  Dong, “Juggling Bits.” 16  Xin Fengxia, Yishu shengya, 170–176; Deng Yunxiang, Zenbu Yanjing xiangtu ji, 2:780– 781; Cheng Shanqing, Tianqiao shihua, 320–325; and Zhou Heng, Wei Xikui.

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were lesser players who took minor roles and served as understudies, sometimes waiting for the opportunity to substitute without having an assigned role.17 The entertainment in Tianqiao was considered plebian, low quality, vulgar, and inferior to the programs enjoyed by the elites in larger theaters. The theaters, troupes, and plays in Tianqiao were known as xiao, meaning “small” or “unimportant.” Only those actresses who achieved wide recognition from both ordinary audiences and elite fans might be able to find positions in major theaters. Zhushikou Avenue in the south of Qian Gate divided the two theatrical areas. To the northwest of the avenue were major theaters; on the south were Tianqiao theaters. Some actresses went so far as to change their names when they left for larger, more prestigious theaters to conceal their connections with Tianqiao.18 Nonetheless, the experience of working in lower-class districts helped actresses mature artistically and grow better equipped for fame. Theatergoing was a hobby for elites and commoners alike, and the former groomed and promoted their favorite players. Actresses could obtain popularity and high income shortly after they began performing, and many in fact overshadowed their male counterparts professionally and financially. Eventually, the government banned acting by both sexes on a single stage, and actresses had to organize their own troupes. Amazingly, they were able to master all sorts of stock roles and seize audiences from their male counterparts, emerging as the bigger stars. With the growth of theaters in the Inner City after 1912, female troupes began to rent stages as their permanent showplaces. Wenming Theater first offered its stage to a group of Clapper Opera singers from Tianjin. Soon, female opera star Liu Xikui joined the troupe at Sanqing Theater, far surpassing her rivals in the Qingle, Zhonghe, and Tongle Theaters. The Society for Pursuing Virtues (Zhideshe, which later became the Society for Championing Virtues), an all-women troupe, was established in 1915 and took Wenming, Guangde, and Qingle Theaters in turn as their headquarters. Their modern-dress drama (shizhuangxi), a combination of Chinese opera skills and Western costumes, stories, and settings, brought the theaters prosperity and fame. With the flourishing theater industry, women further expanded their territory. In 1916, the New World was opened to the public in the Outer City, and nearly twenty actresses from the Pursuing Hou Xisan, Beijing laoxi yuanzi, 181–190; Liang Guojian, Gudu Beijing shehui xiang, 83–86. The quarter in the south city was divided into two areas along Zhushikuo Street. Theaters on the north side of the street were considered elite playhouses and rarely hired performers from the Tianqiao theaters on the south. See Xin Fengxia, Yishu shengya, 296; Cheng Shanqing, Tianqiao shihua, 308; Bai Yei and Shen Ying, Tianqiao, 207–215; and Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu” [Records of flamboyant skirts and colorful shades], Xiju yuekan 1, no. 3 (August 1928): 3–4. 17  18 

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Elegancy Society (Chongyashe) signed contracts with the theater owner in this amusement center.19 In the process of striving for prosperity, young actresses developed intimate friendships and became “stage sisters” (wutai jiemei). The cruel environment and social prejudice against actresses forced these women to be conscious of their common predicament and offer mutual aid. This commonality resulted in the formation of group solidarities. Nevertheless, sisterly cooperation worked more as a survival mechanism than as a political impulse. It was not uncommon for senior actresses to offer professional guidance to their juniors; Hua Furong, a leading actress in the Ping Opera, provided voluntary instruction to Xin Fengxia, who admired Hua’s acting style and imitated her singing. Hua even arranged a role for her protégé in her own play. Xin Fengxia developed a genuine partnership and friendship with such actresses as Hua Shulan and Li Zaiwen. Drum-song singer Wei Xikui also remembered a number of sympathetic actresses who generously shared their own artistic sensibilities with her.20 On the contrary, actresses hardly represented a united front. As far as scholars can ascertain, no organizations or charity institutions for actresses existed in early twentieth-century Beijing. Stage accomplishments, fame, and income stratified the actresses, who observed a sharp demarcation between the rise of a small number of stars acting in major theaters or heading their own troupes and the struggle of most female performers working in small theaters or playing minor roles.21 The Commercial Use of Female Sexuality Actresses, regardless of their skills and talent, were inevitably treated as sexual objects by men. As performers, women positioned their body in a public place where spectators could view, comment on, or fantasize about it. Women’s posture, gestures, facial expressions, and speaking voice were commodities that were consumed by men not only in terms of performance but also as a reflection of feminine traits. The theater could provide women with opportunities to re-create themselves, but it might also reduce them to their easily objectified physical bodies and thus their sexuality. A young and beautiful actress could become the object of male sexual fantasy and voyeuristic pleasure. Male audiences would pay good prices for women’s performances, and shows and managers quickly exploited this profit potential by hiring attractive and talented young women. A perfect actress was a combination of professional skill and appealing 19  Hou Xisan, Beijing laoxi yuanzi, 111–112, 191–198; Zhang Jiangcai, Renmin shoudu de Tianqiao, 188–194. 20  Xin Fengxia, Fachou, 26–29, 269–281; Zhou Heng, Wei Xikui. 21  Xin Fengxia, Fachou, 98–99.

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appearance. When actresses first emerged in Beijing, many believed that women possessed skill and talent sufficient only to play coquettish or light comedic roles. A popular presumption in the 1910s was that “audiences can only appreciate actresses’ good looks rather than their art.”22 Many actresses resisted or at least moderated this exploitation, but male lust and market demand compelled some of them to entertain their audiences with overtly erotic performances. An actress’s commercial success was determined by diverse factors related to her abilities, age, and physical appearance. The careers of women in the theater usually went through three phases totaling about fifteen years: a progressive age between fifteen and twenty years old; a golden age between twenty-one and twenty-five; and a declining age between twenty-six and thirty.23 Although most audiences in Beijing respected traditional stagecraft and were more likely “listening to the drama” than “watching the drama,” they didn’t ignore good looks and an impressive physique. An actress’s “beautiful appearance” was at least as important as her talent. Women were objectified as sexual commodities that, if inaccessible physically, could at a minimum be subjugated visually.24 Success for actresses often depended on “confirming, rather than challenging, the attitudes to gender of their society.”25 Fear and humiliation resulting from the public display of their bodies haunted even the most accomplished actresses. As the celebrated Clapper Opera singer Liu Xikui lamented in the 1920s, “Xikui is a weak girl, living with her widowed mother and having no brothers. She is friendless and wretched, and lacks support. Unfortunately, she has fallen into the acting occupation, relying on the sale of this art to provide food for her mother. It is so pitiful that she has to sacrifice her appearance and become an entertainer.”26 Many actresses found their situations to be disgraceful and immoral compared to those of courtesans. Fulfillment of their artistic dreams required them to be on public display, and sometimes they were confused by the gains and losses they endured. The career they chose contradicted the traditional notion of womanly virtues and was immensely challenging, so many young actresses planned for an acting career of only a few years, followed by marriage and family. The abuse of actresses was epitomized by the “lascivious plays” (yinxi) in which women performed acts to satisfy men’s sexual appetites. As Xu Xiuding, “Shuo kunling.” Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 11 (May 1929): 8–9. 24  “Sexual objectification,” wrote Catherine McKinnon, “is the primary process of the subjugation of women (see “Feminism, Marxism, Method, and the State,” 541). 25  Howe, The First English Actresses, 37. 26  Zhang Cixi, “Zhujiang yumo” [Remaining talk of the Pearl River], Xiju yuekan 1, no. 12 (June 1929): 5. 22  23 

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Elizabeth Howe revealed, English dramatists exploited women’s sexuality by creating lurid roles that included nudity, rape, sexual comedy, and even “breeches” roles.27 In upper-class Chinese drama, explicit sexuality was less acceptable, so sexual metaphors and symbolism prevailed. In lower-class urban theaters, however, actresses were exploited in blatantly pornographic skits. This trend began in Shanghai and spread to Tianjin, Beijing, and other cities by the turn of the century.28 An official document from 1896 characterized “lascivious drama” in this way: “A scholar and a young woman embrace, expose their bodies, and make sensual noises. A huadan actress behaves in a lust-filled manner. In addition to the acting, dirty language can also arouse an audience’s fantasy.”29 The Ping Opera was best known for its romantic plays and passionate acting. Bai Yushuang, for instance, earned notoriety as a “licentious performer” (yinling), demonstrating her boldness in the play Catching Flies (Zhuocangying) in which three female fly spirits attempt to seduce two young men. According to one source, “Bai and two other actresses play the roles of the fly spirits. They dress in tight white clothes and long scarves, with red dudou [diamond-shaped bellybands] in front. Their pants are narrow and high above their knees. During the entire performance, the stage was illuminated by colorful lights. The actresses sang and danced as if they were naked. Both the story and lyrics are obscene.”30 Official reports from the 1930s indicate that Bai was not alone. Many other Tianqiao actresses titillated lower-class audiences, especially when acting with males. Audiences responded enthusiastically to the bawdy language and gestures: “The Sanyou Theater has adopted mixed-sex acting, which is quite salacious. The actresses are Big Banana (Daxiangjiao) and Big Bread (Damianbao). Both are in their thirties and dressed coquettishly. Their acting is lascivious and their words vulgar beyond Howe, The First English Actresses, 37–65. Actress Zhou Yue once exposed her body on the stage for a price. Another actress, Jin Yuemei, received a fine of 50 yuan for revealing her breasts during a show. See Haishang shushi sheng, “Liyuan jiushi linzhua lu” [Scattered memories of old theatrical anecdotes], Xiju yuekan 1, no. 2 (January 1929): 6–8. For instance, the huaguxi (flowering drum show) was popular in Hunan, Hubei, and Anhui in the 1890s for its romantic plots and vulgar acting between a male and a female. The Tianjin shidiao (Tianjin current tune), a lewd singing style derived from brothels, was also adopted by professional female singers in the north. See Shenbao, 15 September 1896; 6 January, 12 March 1897. 29  Shenbao, 25 July 1896. 30  “Xiqu shengcha weiyuanhui panshi Chen Baohe baogao” [Report by the agent of the Drama Examination Committee, Chen Baohe], in Beipingshi shehuiju dangan, wenjiao weisheng lei [Archives of the Social Bureau of Beiping Municipality, education and sanitation], J 2:3:102 (15 February 1933), kept in the Beijing Municipal Archive. In the 1940s, troupe managers also used actresses in the Peking Opera to play vulgar and erotic shows to increase ticket sales. See Liu Yingqiu, “Woyu Yan Huizhu de jiaowang.” 27  28 

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acceptance. The lower-class audiences respond wildly and cheer loudly. When the actresses collect money from spectators, they always make offcolor jokes.”31 These performances, however, were an extreme counterpoint to Chinese theatrical tradition and elite culture. In the nineteenth-century United States, the theater as a capitalist enterprise shifted from an auditory to a visual emphasis and placed women in cheaply produced and sexually explicit shows.32 In early twentieth-century Chinese theater, however, this formative transformation didn’t happen, and individual stagecraft remained in high demand. In regional operas, costumes were loose and did not accentuate the female form. In this context, “amoral behavior” on the stage was most likely suggested by movement and ambiguous language. The popularity of onstage intimacy in modern-dress dramas was squelched by the government and elites’ disapproval. Many “serious” audiences in Beijing appreciated excellence in singing, speaking, acting, and fighting and looked down on pornographic behavior onstage.33 Unlike commoners, who preferred religious, romantic, and violent dramas, scholars and officials preferred plays about politics and female virtues.34 Actresses who played scholars, generals, or old women were not appropriate for erotic roles, and many dan actresses focused on artistry rather than flirtation to impress audiences. Licentious performances were usually associated with lower-class theaters, and many actresses resisted demands for such from theater managers and sought to defend their reputations.. Harassment and Romance If some actresses symbolically sacrificed their sexuality onstage, many had to handle real offenses offstage. Like other women working in public, actresses risked their safety and reputation for career opportunities. The same youth and beauty that brought success to many actresses also caused problems. As actresses’ contact with men in the workplace and society grew, so did their vulnerability to harassment. When hired, these girls were at the mercy of their male managers. As one rhyme stated: 31  “Xiqu shencha weiyuanhui panshi Lian Dehui baogao” [Report by the agent of the Drama Examination Committee, Lian Dehui], in Beipingshi shehuiju dangan, wenjiao weisheng lei, J 2:3:261 (4 January 1934), kept in the Beijing Municipal Archive. 32  Dudden, Women in the American Theatre. 33  Amateur audiences enjoyed the drama not only through watching and listening, but also through “catching the spirit” (guan qishen), or understanding the acting style. See Zhao Shanlin, Zhongguo xiqu guanzhong xue, 164–170. Some dramatic fans took the side seats and concentrated on listening. They called theatergoing not watching the drama (kanxi) but listening to the drama (tingxi). See Ding Bingsui, Beiping, Tianjin, ji qita, 80–81. 34  Zhao Shanlin, Zhongguo xiqu guanzhong xue, 237–257.

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The boss of a company won’t employ An elderly man or a small boy. Popular singers are what they prize, Poor singers are dirt in their eyes. The best age for an actress is eighteen, they say; And if they fancy you there’s no getting away.35

Other men also harassed female performers, especially those who were part of traveling productions and lacked social connections and support. Corrupt officials, unscrupulous gentry, dissolute merchants, ruthless bandits, and bullying thugs could ask actresses to attend drinking parties, play mah-jongg, sing at private celebrations, or be their “false daughters” and could use money and intimidation to subjugate actresses into sexual playthings. Numerous accounts reveal the anxiety, dread, and bitterness of itinerant actresses.36 For many actresses, marriage was a desirable option, although it could be problematic as well. Having a theatrical star as a wife or concubine was indicative of a man’s social status and power; actresses were expensive commodities on the marital market. Under these circumstances, actresses’ marriages were often arranged by others, and their personal preferences ignored. During the early twentieth century, no mothers of young actresses would allow their daughters to marry actors, who were poor and considered disreputable. “When you grow up you must find yourself a rich husband,” Xin Fengxia’s mother once told her. “Not an actor, mind you. You have got to improve yourself.” Sometimes, the heads of theatrical companies arranged marriages for their actresses. One of Xin Fengxia’s stage sisters committed suicide rather than go through with a marriage arranged by her boss.37 Many actresses longed for the escape that a marriage based on romantic love could provide. Despite their limited educations, these women embraced the Western ideal of free-choice marriage and the Chinese romantic tradition that might come from the roles they played. A theatrical career offered women both opportunities and pitfalls. Female artists had a better understanding of romantic love than most Chinese women of the time because they worked with men, earned their own income, and were more independent. To pursue a lover meant rebelling against parental control and acquiring some protection. Whereas marriage was considered a woman’s destiny and a vehicle for gaining social respect, it was also appealing to women who cared little for this affirmation. Xin, Reminiscences, 110. Cai Dingguo, Liyuan yishi, 43–54; Chang Xianyu, Xibi tianda, 145–153; and Wang Dengshan, “Xiqu yishujia Li Guiyun.” 37  Xin, Reminiscences, 100–101, 108. 35  36 

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If an actress’s parents or guardians disapproved of a relationship, she could elope or fight for her rights through lawsuits. Star actress Wang Juxian took all the jewels and cash she had accumulated over the years and eloped with a fan. Cai Jinfeng and Hua Zhenzhu, stage sisters, fell in love with college students. When their adoptive mother opposed their marriages, they filed a lawsuit against her.38 Some actresses experimented with marriages based on mutual love; actress Du Yunhong rejected a rich man’s proposal and insisted on marrying a young man she loved.39 Xue Yanqin married Puguang, the brother of the last Chinese emperor, Puyi. Puguang even converted to Islam at Xue’s request, divorcing his previous wife in the process.40 Another famous example involved Liu Xikui (1895–1964), who had turned down many wealthy suitors before finally marrying an army officer. As Liu said during a discussion with some male writers: In terms of state law, freedom to marry is an individual’s sacred right. Some people dare to intervene into my marital affairs and thereby violate the law and ignore the principles of humanism. My marriage has nothing to do with others. If all men in Beijing and Tianjin or the world were like those people, then I would rather not marry at all. I would marry only a great man who can kill bandits on horseback and endure hardship, a man who is bright, straightforward, honest, and simple. Otherwise, I would remain single throughout my lifetime.41

In China, married actresses were unappealing because audiences placed a high value on female virginity. An unmarried actress appealed to male fantasies and hopes of marriage. Xin Fengxia told a story about her colleague Mingxia, who had secretly married an actor, concealed her pregnancy, and said her baby was her little sister.42 Marriage might not automatically terminate an actress’s career; however, her new dual life created tremendous obstacles. Pregnancy and nursing would interrupt work, and child care was difficult to arrange. Living backstage with one’s family was possible, but the conditions were deplorable. A married actress’s reputation would erode, and roles would become fewer and less important. 38  In another example, Bai Yushuang fell in love with an ordinary actor in her troupe and eloped to the man’s home village in the 1940s. She dressed as a typical peasant wife and endured the harsh rural life for six months. See Guo Qihong, “Bai Yushuang lun”; Chenbao, 22 June 1923; 21 January 1922. 39  Xie Susheng, “Liyuan zhuilu” [Added records of the theater], Xiju yuekan 2, no. 6 (February 1930): 1–10. 40  Yanjing Sanren, Guoju mingling yishi, 111–130. 41  Zhang Jiangcai, “Yanguilai yi cuibi,” 2:1241. 42  Xin, Reminiscences, 104–108.

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It seems that actresses’ retreat from theaters to marriage and the family, either through the arrangements of their parents or guardians or through their own choice, was not enough to surmount their predicament. For women, public and private spaces could be both interrelated and mutually exclusive. Actresses’ association with public spaces—their visibility, fame, and heterosocial lives—ruined their potential to return to the private realm, which would reduce them to a marginal status within the home. They were alienated lower-class women who were most likely to marry wealthy and powerful men as concubines. Public spaces helped them raise their social status, but at the same time it lowered their suitability as wives. For many actresses, marriage was a fantasy, a romanticized escape, or an imagined comfort that softened the cruelties of public life. Yet, reality taught them that the private realm could be as tough as the public one, which is why many actresses returned to the stage after experiencing love and marriage. Performing Modernity Actresses had political as well as commercial value. The new technologies used in advertising and the adoption of Western forms of media, such as newspapers, radio, and films, catapulted some actresses to the highest levels of fame. Nationalist reformers understood the political capital found in these stars and attempted to use them as instruments for mass mobilization. The theater served political elites as a vehicle for transmitting the dominant ideology while also satisfying the desire of those in the lower classes for entertainment—historical legends, tragedies, and comedies—that might violate official norms or political goals. Thus, actresses on the one hand were cultural agents manipulated by the political elites but on the other hand resisted this control on behalf of the ordinary people, who made their success possible. The transformation of the theater in terms of both the works performed and the methods of acting was an urgent agenda in the modern reform movement. The “new drama” (xinxi) originated in Japan and was spread to Shanghai and other major cities by Chinese students during the period of the 1911 Revolution to build resentment toward the Manchu rulers and consensus for radical change. The new drama, or “civilized drama” (wenmingxi), was a hybrid of Western drama and Chinese opera, featuring contemporary topics and political dialogue. In the 1910s and 1920s, reformers established diverse troupes whose purpose was no less than the restructuring of traditional culture.43 These troupes needed actresses to play women’s roles and other prototypes in this transitional society. 43  Ouyang Yuqian, “Tan wenmingxi” [About the civilized drama], in Tian Han et al., Zhongguo huaju yundong wushinian shiliaoji, 47–107.

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Reformers considered actresses in the commercial theater to be merely symptomatic of the nation’s malaise, contributors to the corruption of public morals and the repression of women. They thus sought to turn actresses from mere entertainers into political workers to advance their nationalist propaganda campaign. Theatrical personnel became pawns to be used as needed for nation building. “Theaters are big schools for the populace, and actors are teachers of audiences,” Chen Duxiu declared in 1905. “Without drama,” another reformer pointed out in 1908, “it is impossible to influence the rank and file with patriotic ideas.”44 The political use of theater—a new version of the traditional “moral education from the high stage” (gaotai jiaohua)—was further proposed by the May Fourth journal New Youth (Xinqingnian), which discredited traditional drama as erotic, superstitious, and violent. The magazine recommended new types of drama guided by Western realism.45 Theatrical reformers hoped actresses would become icons of the new woman in China by revolting against the patriarchal regime and promoting the nationalist cause. With the goal of informing the masses of the national crisis and China’s entrance into the modern world, theatrical reformers established cooperative working relationships with actresses. They wrote plays, revamped old historical dramas, assisted stagehands, and offered professional reviews. This cooperation, however, by no means mirrored the historical theme of literati-courtesan cohesion, but rather the political manipulation of female performers. Although actresses were given the opportunity to perform in modern-dress dramas as part of the women’s emancipation movement, they were primarily the tools rather than the objects of the transformation. When Bai Yushuang toured Shanghai in 1935, for instance, she captured the attention of theatrical reformers such as Tian Han, Hong Shen, and Ouyang Yuqian, who helped Bai revise historical dramas with “antifeudalistic” themes and guided the Ping Opera into the cinematic era. The Ping Opera film Red Chinese Flowering Crab Apple (Haitanghong) told the story of an actress’s struggle against the patriarchal society. Columnists Zhao Jinshen and A Ying published essays defending Bai from conservative denunciations by judging her performance to be decent and reform oriented.46 Another example of these alliances can be found in the case of Yang Yunpu and his actresses. The child of peasants in Gaoyang, Zhili Province, 44  Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe” [Mr. Yang Yunpu and the Society for Championing Virtues], in Hebeisheng wenhua ting, Hebei xiqu ziliao huibian, 13:91–92. 45  Chen Baichen and Dong Jian, Zhongguo xiandai xiju shigao, 92–96. 46  Zhang Hui and Cao Qimin, Xiao Bai Yushuang zhuan, 23–25; Li Zaiwen, “Huiyi muqin Bai Yushang.”

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Yang became a successful dan actor in the Clapper Opera and traveled to Tianjin, Beijing, and cities in Manchuria and south China. Deeply influenced by Tian Jiyun, a leading actor and pioneer in theatrical reform, when he joined Tian’s Yucheng Troupe in 1905, he devoted himself to the new drama movement. The first actress who became Yang’s theatrical partner was Liu Xikui, a native of Zhili Province and a young dan actress. With Yang’s guidance and partnership onstage, Liu became the first actress to perform modern-dress drama in Beijing. In 1913, she debuted before a Beijing audience, in the Sanqing Theater, and was honored as the “vanguard of the movement of equal rights between men and women.”47 Yang produced and directed new plays for Liu that addressed popular concerns of the time. Among them was The New Tulip (Xinchahua), the story of a romance between a student and a patriotic prostitute, which espoused revolutionary ideals and satirized “fake Republicans.” Liu played the role of the prostitute who ended the relationship so that her lover could dedicate himself to the defense of the motherland against foreign invaders.48 “She plays instrument while singing, with a sweet expression and a feminine voice. All the spectators are shocked.”49 The show was highly regarded by students, new elites, and middle-class audiences. Afterward, Liu garnered even higher acclaim in the Legend of the Electrical Magic (Dianshu qitan), a play based on a Japanese novel. Liu spurred the rise of the new drama movement in Beijing as actresses and actors adapted to this new focus on contemporary issues. Her triumph overshadowed even the most prominent actor, Tan Xinpei, earning her the title “Queen of the Theater.” In 1915, Yang founded the Society for Pursuing Virtues, along with a theater owner and two wealthy actors, and became the troupe’s manager, director, and playwright. This all-female troupe thrived for twenty-four years, performing hundreds of modern-dress dramas based on modern novels, movies, and reform-minded newspaper stories that embraced free-choice marriage, family reform, the antiopium campaign, the punishment of tyrannical rulers, the plight of the working class, and nationalism.50 Yang established close ties with the Ministry of Education’s Study Committee on Popular Education and adapted reformist scripts on its behalf. Reformers Liang Juzhuan, Yi Zhengpu, and Han Puan contributed the plays they wrote to the troupe and assisted Yang in the cause. Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 216. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:62. 49  “Liu Xikui yishen zhi zatan” [Casual talk about Liu Xikui herself], quoted in Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 218. 50  The Society for Pursuing Virtues performed forty-six plays between 1915 and 1919. Among them, seventeen were traditional and twenty-nine were new. See Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:138–139. 47  48 

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Yang enhanced the quality of his new dramas by seeking advice from young writers, and he received remuneration from the government on several occasions. He also befriended the members of the well-known amateur troupe from the Nankai School in Tianjin, which counted the young Zhou Enlai as one of its activists, and adapted their shows and ideas to his own works.51 Yang’s involvement with the reformist theater somehow benefited actresses. At least 101 young actresses found employment in his troupe between 1915 and 1918 and played significant roles in both historical and modern-dress dramas. As a responsible director, Yang required his actresses to practice their fundamentals every day, providing corrections as needed. He carefully explained the plays’ plots and roles to the girls, who were usually illiterate, and hired professionals to teach them dance, martial arts, and classic literature. He consulted with his performers and used their ideas. He used realistic sets and the latest equipment, including electronic devices to create special effects. He also imitated the singing style of the Peking Opera in his plays and trained his girls to master various performing genres. Young girls took the opportunity he provided both to learn both stage roles and to become literate. They created a community where they were able to aid one other, share knowledge and experience, and seek protection. As a father figure, Yang taught his young actresses to read and write, and he strictly monitored their behavior and social interactions. He once said, “I respect those girls. But, I have to watch and criticize them. I teach them how to act and how to become good women. I prevent them from denigrating themselves or the reputation of our troupe. This is a big issue that will determine our success or failure.”52 Yang maintained a policy of sexual segregation in his troupe. He didn’t permit guests to visit the actresses backstage and even issued passes to his male employees who had to go backstage. Onstage, he forbade violence, flirting, and obscenities, and after the show, he prohibited his girls from taking gifts or attending banquets. He invited officials from the Ministry of Education to review rehearsals and provide artistic and political advice. His regulations and guardianship represented the reformers’ intention to mold actresses into moral women and a new type of artist that differed from courtesans and was appropriate for the modern theater.53 Under Yang’s cultivation, Liu Xikui, Wang Yingxian, Xian Lingzhi, Xiao Rongfu, Qin Fengyun, Li Guiyun, and many others grew to become first-class artists, Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:159. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:98. 53  Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:99; Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 211–212. 51  52 

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and their efforts helped integrate Clapper Opera into the dramatic reform movement.54 Because mixed-sex acting was prohibited in the 1910s and 1920s, actresses had to master the male roles. Martial arts star Ning Xiaolu was especially distinguished in this area, even disguising herself as a man occasionally in her daily life. A dramatist said that “whatever roles she takes, she depicts them genuinely. Not only does she imitate the voices and looks of the characters, but she brings them to life in terms of the plots as well. Her skills are incredible.”55 Another martial arts actress, named Gai Rongxuan, was a master of stage fighting. When acting the parts of generals in historical dramas, “she show[ed] skillful use of the spear and nimble physical movement that show[ed] no sign of femininity.” In the play The Hero Who Saves His Country (Jiuguo yingxiong), Gai acted the part of the protagonist, Ma Ke, with a heroic spirit: “She played the patriotic man with zealous enthusiasm and won tremendous bravos.”56 Comedic actress Jiu Yueju, scholar actress Wang Qingkui, and old-man actress Wang Jinrong all had a profound understanding of the male roles they played. They adapted their voices, gestures, and expressions and blurred gender distinctions onstage through their superb skills. Yang’s troupe was known for its cross-dressing performances, a continuation of the Clapper Opera tradition. During the May Fourth era, however, a more Westernized drama, called the “speaking drama” (huaju), became nearly as popular as the modern-dress drama, but never surpassed it. The speaking drama was mainly a student experiment, and actresses played only female roles.57 By contrast, the girls in the Society for Pursuing Virtues performed male roles, mocking the idea that the male and female genders were not interchangeable. Whenever a woman acted a part she implicitly threatened the prevailing definition of womanhood by showing in a believable way that she could become someone else. The actresses who took male roles showed that women had unlimited potential and were pioneers in a new terrain that their successors would explore. The Society for Pursuing Virtues, a privately owned company, was restructured into a public troupe in 1918 and renamed the Society for Championing Virtues. The new organization didn’t have investors but instead ten shareholders who were responsible for the troupe’s finances. Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 239–245. “Kuideshe zhi liangtiebi” [The two iron arms of the Society for Championing Virtues], quoted in Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 227. 56  “Kuideshe yiyuan xiaozhuan” [Short biographies of actresses in the Society for Championing Virtues], quoted in Liu Wenfeng and Yu Wenqing, Beijing xiju tongshi, minguo juan, 229. 57  Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:85; Zhou Huiling, “Nüyanyuan, xianshi chuyi, xinnüxing lunshu.” 54  55 

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Along with Yang and two other important staff members were seven main actresses, who had regular incomes and divided the profits but also had to cover any losses. Other employees were salaried contract workers. This payment system reduced the pay gap between management and workers that was found in other companies and gave actresses some financial power. National crises and China’s modern transformation provided the central themes for the Society for Championing Virtues theater. In modern China, nationalist elites used the theater, along with schools, literature, and the news media, to develop the concept of nationhood, in which a nation is an imagined community created by cultural artifacts.58 The national identity referring to a subject position was produced by representations,59 and drama, as a cultural artifact, represented the nation. To withstand imperialistic encroachments and become modern, according to the reformers, non-Western societies had to adopt Western concepts, institutions, and technology on the one hand, and on the other hand, they also had to preserve the cultural legacies that shaped their national identity. These two seemingly contradictory trends were the driving forces behind the Society for Championing Virtues. Theater as a form of mass media provided nation builders an effective means of educating the masses in both the ways of the modern world and their heritage. More often than not, the Society for Championing Virtues performed revues that depicted the country in jeopardy. China was shown as filled with imperialist divisions, political disorder, bureaucratic inefficiency, moral decay, class differentiation, economic failure, and technological backwardness. In contrast, Western countries embodied industrial power, advanced technology, democratic government, individual rights, and gender equality, components that sustain modern society. The Society for Championing Virtues constantly sponsored shows that compared China and the West, the traditional and the modern, and the weak and the strong, suggesting that China needed to “catch up.” The play Correspondence (Yifengshu), for instance, highlighted prevailing social and economic predicaments and proposed that only the enlightened new youth could save the country. A servant in the play complains, “If you ask what things we have an oversupply of in China, I would say that it’s illiterate people. Under these circumstances, the modern schools are far from adequate. What can those folks do without education? In China, there are too few factories and too many unemployed people. How can people survive without employment? We cannot produce enough, so we have to import

58  59 

Anderson, Imagined Communities. Duara, Rescuing History from the Nation, 7.

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more, which consequently weakens our hard currency.”60 The central character, an educated wife, becomes suspicious of her husband, who’s abroad through a series of misunderstandings, and decides to teach in an orphanage. The introduction to the script states that the play is intended to arouse enthusiasm for industry and commerce and encourage youth to act on behalf of the nation.61 In the nationalist discourse, the Manchu government was portrayed as an out-of-date, incompetent, and corrupt regime responsible for the country’s backwardness and humiliation. To achieve the goal of modernity, therefore, the Manchu government should be replaced with a democratic system that would lead the country to independence. Many plays captured this revolutionary theme about how the ruling elite abused power, accumulated vast personal holdings, and sold aspects of national sovereignty to foreigners. The Story of a Begging Hero (Gaixiaji) extolled a beggar who rescued a female student from an evil member of the gentry class. The beggar later joined the revolutionary army in 1911 and died in a battle against the gentry and Manchu officials. The play depicted the gentry, bureaucrats, and police as evil puppets of imperialist powers and presented commoners as pure and compassionate. In the play, the son of a member of the gentry class says, “My father is a powerful man and my father-in-law is a high-ranking official. Everyone curses me for my lack of morality. It is because my father gives me too much dirty money.” The beggar symbolized the nationalist spirit, boasting that he “enjoys freedom…[and] is not afraid of rent collectors, imperialist powers, or bandits.”62 This play, like many others, served the purposes both of the reformers, who proposed a revolution to build up a strong nationstate, and ordinary citizens, who eagerly anticipated the elimination of class distinctions and the improvement of their living conditions. The concept of nationalism provided Chinese with the theories, methods, popular support, and leadership to achieve modernity, withstand imperialist aggression, and claim equal status with Western powers. This modern nation could be developed only through adopting Western culture, including the idea of gender equality. The new Chinese intellectuals associated a country’s backwardness and marginal economic power with women, and modernity and the values of science and progress with men. Indeed, research shows that the construction of gender is the foundation of nation building.63 Scholars find that, in many developing countries, Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:209. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:208. 62  Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:172–175. 63  Sievers, Flowers in Salt; Yuval-Davis and Anthias, Women-Nation-State; Parker et al., Nationalisms and Sexualities; and Duara, “The Regime of Authenticity.” 60  61 

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the representations of women—as the nation, the daughter or mother of the nation, and a symbol of femininity—were reiterated even as cultural conditions varied.64 Chinese reformers attacked traditional social practices and beliefs that kept women illiterate, isolated, and physically weak as barriers to modern progress, thus placing the issue of women’s emancipation in a nationalistic context. However, the issue of women’s rights can be interpreted and understood according to different social categories. Chinese reformers promoted educated mothers and productive wives as tools for economic growth, but the women themselves would also benefit from the associated increase in personal dignity, freedom outside the home, and economic autonomy. This is probably why the young actresses in the Society for Championing Virtues loved to play the roles of “new women” who chose their own husbands and sought professional employment. It can also explain why this “new women’s show” was so appealing to female audiences.65 A good example is found in a dramatic piece called The Precious Mirror of Freedom (Ziyou baojian) in which a daughter of an elite family disobeys her father to marry her lover. Though the girl endures tremendous hardships, she finally finds happiness. In one scene, during which she pulls out a handgun in front of her father, she expresses the philosophy behind free-choice marriage: Your daughter is not threatening you today with the handgun. She is striving for women’s freedom and rights. I believe that the traditional marriage that is determined by parents and matchmakers is the result of China’s isolation. Women are confined at home and know nothing about the outside world, which is why they obey their parents.… When a beautiful girl is engaged, even if it’s to a disabled person, she cannot marry another. By the same token, nine out of ten husbands are unhappy, so they visit brothels and marry concubines.… Your daughter is educated and hates this unreasonable custom. She intends to imitate the Western women and pursue her own marriage.66

Parallel to marriage reform, the improvement of family relations was another popular topic for plays by the Society for Championing Virtues. The ideal of the new family was derived from the notion of the Western family, which was presumed to be smaller, more productive, and with more egalitarian relationships than its Chinese counterpart. The nationstate relied on family solidarity; when reformers suggested the abolition of such traditional practices as arranged marriage, concubinage, parental Parker et al., Nationalisms and Sexualities. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:218. 66  Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:149–150. 64  65 

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tyranny, and the employment of domestic slaves, they proposed the renovation of Chinese family relations and at the same time the retention of some constructive values. The scripts adopted by the Society for Championing Virtues warned against those who took concubines, smoked opium, wasted money, trusted troublemakers, or mistreated subordinates, and they advocated the notions of filial piety, benevolence, frugality, marital fidelity, and social harmony. In the play The Root of Family Disaster (Jiating huoshui), a rich official is murdered because he took the advice of his servant and married a concubine. The author wrote in the prelude: “Those who want to be virtuous wives and filial daughters have to watch; those who want to be good sons and cousins have to watch; those who want to find loyal and honest servants have to watch; and those who want to take concubines have to watch.”67 The play conveyed an elitist inclination that belittled servants and concubines as troublemakers, yet it also attacked the wealthy class who indulged in material goods and disregarded women’s dignity. The strengthening of conventional family values was actually a search for cultural authenticity and spiritual superiority in the face of rapid change and Western material culture. The prevailing values would constitute the unchanging core of Chinese culture. Actresses also promoted cultural authenticity through their portrayals of heroines. While new women, as cultural hybrids, were essentially Chinese and filled with the ineffable Chinese spirit, traditional heroines were even better exemplars of Chinese ethical strength. On the stage of the Society for Championing Virtues, virtuous women were depicted as having dual characters: one that was self-sacrificing and one that fought for justice. The two prototypes overlapped in their moral sensibilities and in their correction of men’s wrongdoings. These women could be courtesans, maidens, scholars, soldiers, or housewives, but they shared certain noble qualities. They were portrayed as brave, upright, wise, and generous, role models who resisted males who were unjust, deceitful, cruel, or treacherous. In the play Cold Man (Boqinglang), courtesan Chungui is sympathetic toward poor scholar Xiang Dongping and spends all of her savings to buy Xiang a rank. Yet when Xiang is named to an official post, he refuses to recognize Chungui, whom he has abused as his concubine and then sold to a brothel as a prostitute. Outraged, Chungui drowns herself and returns as a ghost to seek revenge.68 The play was a new version of the old courtesan dramas that depicted the moral integrity of a demeaned female entertainer who fell in love with a scholar, gave all her savings to help him succeed, only to be betrayed by him, resulting in her suicide. Female Marquise (Nühouye) was another play about a young 67  68 

Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:140–141. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:145–146.

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woman; this one was kidnapped by her father’s killer and misunderstood by her fiancé. She avenges her father’s death, escapes from a mistrial, and finally achieves glory by fighting pirates.69 In the framework of a traditional romance in which a young engaged couple go through misunderstandings, separation, and emotional crises before finally reuniting, the actress who played the female marquise created a filial daughter who killed the bully responsible for her father’s death and retained her marital commitment to her fiancé. Some playwrights packaged familiar moral stories in modern wrappings. The Widow (Tuoyouping), for instance, depicted female moral integrity, determination, and dedication to love. The heroine, Kong Yunzhen, marries for love the son of a rich merchant. The merchant finds his runaway son and forces him to marry another woman; abandoned, Yunzhen rears their son. Eventually, she commits suicide to save her ex-husband’s family honor.70 The drama served less to praise marriage for love than to honor motherhood and self-sacrifice. Actresses in the Society for Championing Virtues also played roles that served only to entertain. Actually, many historical pieces or newsstory shows were simply entertainment, with little political or moral significance. The majority of spectators sought thrilling, bizarre, outlandish plots or stories that depicted compassion. Playwrights and directors had to find a compromise between the goals of propaganda and the interests of ordinary theatergoers. Jennifer Robertson pointed out that, inasmuch as dominant ideologies are rarely stable or effective, “it was in the interest of ideologues to allow some of the subtexts to surface some of the time, a practice tantamount to an affective approach to social control.”71 Urban commoners suffered from dislocation, poverty, political turmoil, and society’s transformation to modernity. They were exploited and bullied by the powerful and wealthy, and they needed an outlet for their anger and helplessness. When they saw bad guys being punished and justice served, they might share the feeling of victory with the play’s heroes or heroines. Women liked to see depictions of romantic tragedies or successful marriages based on love, which reminded them of their own experiences and gave them hope. Religious shows and action plays provided escape from lives of hard work and deprivation. Actresses’ interactions with ordinary people in their audiences produced a “performance consciousness,” a collective capacity to engage imaginatively in the construction of potential worlds that might subsequently influence the audiences’ actions.72 Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:206–207. Wang Dengshan, “Yang Yunpu xiansheng he Kuideshe,” 13:231–232. 71  Robertson, Takarazuka, 112. 72  Kershaw, The Politics of Performance, 25–99. 69  70 

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The Elites’ Contempt of Actresses and the Cults That Emerged The increasing popularity of actresses triggered various responses from the elite class. Male elites couldn’t ignore society’s acceptance of women onstage despite their suspicion, scorn, derision, or devaluation. They obscured the distinction between actresses and courtesans, however, and attributed actresses’ popularity to their physical charms and flirtatious nature. The female performers in drum-song, the Ping Opera, and other forms of entertainment that were oriented to mass audiences usually received more scorn than those in more elite venues, yet both categories of women shared the characteristics beauty (se) and skill (yi) that were used to evaluate female entertainers. Literature pertaining to dramatists, reviewers, writers, and theater supporters verifies men’s enormous interest in female sexuality and their attempt to play with female entertainers. Drum-song girls who performed in Tianqiao theaters or on the streets occupied the lowest rung of the social ladder and were considered underground sex workers. One writer asserted that drum-song girls were a legacy of the singers of the “Falling Lotus” ballad and retained a heritage that showed their humble origins. They relied on their looks and their ability to imitate male masters to survive, though their skills were often far from adequate.73 The critic Jian Yun described the top drum-song singer Black Girl as “loud and energetic,” inferior to her male counterparts. He also alleged that several other popular drum-song women were amateur prostitutes. Their singing, he said, “sounds like ghosts crying,” and their acting “is full of defects from top to bottom.”74 Even the sociologist Li Jiarui, who had studied Beijing popular culture, was convinced that drum-song girls were trained imposters who used their charms to make money. According to Li, experienced drum-song women recruited gifted girls from poor families and taught them both singing and social skills. When grown, the young women flirted with men outside the theater and persuaded them to order their songs. Afterward, the girls would go to dinner with their patrons and cultivate friendships with them. These acquaintances, boyfriends, or patrons would be delighted if they were invited to visit their stars’ homes. They had to give gifts of clothes and jewelry on the girls’ birthdays and other social events. Because drumsinging was a male-dominated art that demanded a strong memory, verbal skills, and performing abilities, audiences were usually reluctant to switch to watching women in the roles. Young women would modify the established styles they learned from their male masters or create new genres that challenged the traditional standard. The singers’ comfortable lives and interactions with men provoked suspicion among male elites 73  74 

Nilü Guoke, Dushi congtan, 137–138. Jian Yun, “Dagu xianping.”

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who didn’t believe that girls with such humble beginnings could strike it rich with their performance talent alone.75 The most convenient way to marginalize or exclude female interlopers in the drum-song field was to associate them with the sex trade. Female performers who came from brothels, challenged the prevailing orthodoxy, or were involved in relationships with men provided male elites with ammunition to attack actresses in general. Magazines were filled with articles on actresses’ sexual scandals, and critics showed more interest in women’s affairs than their artistic accomplishments. Male elites added a moral dimension to the evaluation of female performers. Those who pursued romance, divorced, or otherwise challenged the norm of heterosocial interactions were labeled “immoral” or “corrupt,” whereas those who were associated only with their art were rewarded and recommended to the public. Yu Julu, for instance, lambasted the Clapper Opera singer Sun Guiqiu, who had a baby out of wedlock and liaisons with two men simultaneously. He also identified the Manchu opera singer Bi Yuhua as a negative example for abandoning her family and eloping with a military officer to Shanghai. Though Bi later became a distinguished actress in the north, Yu focused only on her ethical lapses and attributed this schoolgirl’s selection of a career in opera to Western influence and a misguided concept of freedom.76 Yu considered actresses’ social interactions to be the same as courtesans’ entertaining of clients and assumed that patronage between an upper-class male and a young opera singer was fundamentally sexual. He once commented, “It is not safe to say that all the actresses in Beijing and Tianjin serve men with sex, yet they usually don’t turn down visitors who want to indulge in their physical charms.”77 On another occasion, this reviewer concluded that attractive actresses, regardless of their artistic skill, would keep warlords or wealthy men around as “godfathers” whom they eventually attempted to marry.78 The allegations that actresses took monthly payments from their male patrons and lived as their mistresses or offered social or sexual services were underscored by Yu and other male critics whose writings contributed to the distortion of the perception of actresses. This prejudice extended to actresses’ performances. Opera singers, like drum-song singers, were believed to appeal to audiences because of their physical attractiveness. Reviewers looked down on actresses who used their feminine charm to win applause. Yu asserted that “most actresses depend on flirting with their eyes and eyebrows to attain the favor Li Jiarui, Beiping fengsu leizheng, 2:437–438. Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 2 (January 1929): 1–9. 77  Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 5 (October 1928): 1–11. 78  Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 11 (May 1929): 1–9. 75  76 

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of audiences.”79 Another theatrical veteran, with the pen name Juanyou Yisou, scorned female dan players who “act like buffoons” and “seemingly dare to strip to win ovations.”80 He displayed anxiety about the “disastrous effect” of female performers on popular culture. Xu Xiuding also argued that actresses were inferior to their male counterparts because they were unable to find first-class actors as their masters and thus had to please audiences through coquetry.81 However, the “sale of beauty” in large part was not the problem of performers but of audiences. Opera acting in China was highly symbolic and implicit, and the so-called licentious performances or flirtations could refer to nothing more than an actress’s expressiveness with her eyes, a gesture, an ambiguous phrase, or just a feminine style. Sexual expression could be found in theaters, yet it never reached the mainstream and was by no means comparable to what is found in contemporary Western strip clubs. Actresses’ looks, bodies, and inherent forms of expression came to be the focal points of dramatic reviews, and male elites always used such hyperbolic phrases as “eclipsing the moon and overshadowing the flowers” (biyue xiuhua), “as gorgeous as peaches and plums” (yanru taoli), “delicate and exquisite” (jiaoxiao linglong), or “elegant and poised” (yongrong huagui) to describe female performers. Onstage, women were judged by their appearance, and their performances were interpreted through a lens of sexuality. Male elites assumed the authority to define women’s acting as licentious or flirtatious. Just as male elites honored moral women in the domestic domain, so did they also promote virtuous actresses in the theater. Actresses were thought generally to exhibit questionable character, so male elites prized those who were able to resist men’s advances for their moral act that elevated them above their peers. Yu Julu considered opera singer Jin Yanfen a “perfect woman” because she didn’t allow her followers to enter her home. He also praised Zhu Guihong’s maxim of “selling my art rather than my face.”82 The editor of the Drama Monthly added a passage at the end of Yu’s article on Zhu that extolled this woman for “winning dignity for all actresses” and “enjoying a wholesome fame in theatrical circles.”83 By celebrating these role models, male elites attempted to contain the “moral corruption” caused by women’s public presence and interactions with males. Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 6 (November 1928): 6. Juanyou Yisou, “Liyuan jouhua” [Old anecdotes in the theater], in Zhang Jiangcai, Qingdai yandu liyuan shiliao, 2:826. 81  Xu Xiuding, “Shuo kunling.” 82  Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 5 (October 1928): 1–11; 1, no. 6 (November 1928): 1–11. 83  Yu Julu, “Nishang yanying lu,” Xiju yuekan 1, no. 6 (November 1928): 11. 79  80 

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In stark contrast to these men who praised the virtue of some actresses was the large group of men who adored actresses to the point of developing cults around them. “Worshipping role players” (pengjiao) was a characteristic of the Chinese theater, yet the addition of women to the pantheon signified the culture’s shifting morality and the tremendous impact of women’s presence in public. Male fans idolized actresses for several reasons: cultural elites were astonished by actresses’ talents and encouraged this new form of theater involving women; wealthy and powerful men cultivated young stars for marriage or affairs; surviving adherents of the Qing dynasty related to the emotions the women exhibited onstage; and young students regarded actresses as icons of free love. The cult of actresses exceeded the traditional admiration of courtesans in its intensity and passion as men devoted enormous amounts of money and time to supporting clubs, reviewing articles, warring with their pens, debating which female stars were superior, or pursuing actresses socially. In this respect, male fans respected female artists as their superiors and role models. Men wrote actresses poems that celebrated their romantic affection and admiration for the women’s skills but also exposed feelings of selfpity and political frustration. One of the most eminent poets during the early Republican period was Yi Shunding, who bragged that he “loved beauty at the cost of his life” and befriended many popular opera singers.84 An old-fashioned scholar who lost his status after the Revolution of 1911, Yi sought to commiserate with them. He was so impressed with the performance of a drum-song girl named Feng Fengxi in Tianqiao that he “went to Tianqiao every day without considering the difficulties.” In the song he wrote for Feng he despaired at the lower-class amusement quarter where “singing and dancing by poor performers are in full sight, and sad wild geese (aihong) are the audiences.” That “in the past, nobility walked down the road” reminded him of the area’s previous glory, and poor urbanites’ spending their hard-earned money on this entertainment aroused his concern about the ethical lapses of the new era. He saw the same dilemmas in actresses and outdated elites and worried that “by aging, Kuan [he himself] has lost all of his gold, and with the arrival of deep autumn, Fengxi feels the chill in her green sleeves.” By this statement, he was implying that the scorned actresses and the old elites whose opinions were no longer respected fit the same category, and their sorry fates were determined by the changing times.85

84  Yi Shunding, “Kuan shangju shi” [Poems on chrysanthemums by Kuan], in Zhang Jiangcai, Qingdai yandu liyuan shiliao, 2:747. 85  Yi Shunding, “Kuan shangju shi,” 2:757–758.

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Yi, in his Song of a Few Dou of Blood (Shudou xuege), further clarified his support of actresses. He equated a group of female opera stars with the Ming courtesans who retained their political allegiance to the dead emperor and refused to serve the Manchu conquerors. He praised the Ming dynasty, which had collapsed in “voice and countenance” but lived on in the minds of political loyalists and courtesans. Meanwhile, he belittled the Qing dynasty for dying with no particular distinction. He argued that actresses represented the spirit of nature and perpetuated Chinese values through their resurrection of historical figures. Actresses deserved cults because without them, “this bright and magnificent world would not exist.” He justified the potential loss of his reputation with the preservation of women’s talent and beauty for the ages. Further, he was disappointed by the political speculation of the Republican era and extolled actresses’ honesty and moral integrity, saying that he would rather worship great courtesans and actresses than accomplished scholars. His elevation of actresses became a mockery of the corrupt Republicans, and his statement “I am afraid that the ones who can build the resplendent and magnificent new country are not them [Republicans], but actresses” was a stinging rebuke to the society he didn’t want to recognize.86 Yi’s song was a political statement that conveyed the dissatisfaction of the old-fashioned elites with Republican China and their escape from cruel reality to a world of illusions.87 In truth, the elites’ worshipping of female stars was driven by sensuality. Many elite men viewed actresses not as their political shadows but as playthings whose artistic accomplishments made them unattainable and thus immensely attractive. Ye Xiaoying, the son of a merchant, promoted opera singer Xue Yanhong through publishing a “mosquito paper” (tabloid newspaper). Because he commented on the girl’s bottom, one of his friends called him the “reviewer of women’s physical beauty.” This fan, who followed her everywhere, once confessed that his “original intent [was] to marry her as [his] concubine,” then added, “yet my method is too weak to achieve that goal, so I back up and hope that I can play cards and drink wine with her.”88 Ye’s enthusiasm by no means exceeded that of Yi Shunding, who was notorious for his bizarre way of celebrating actresses. This aged scholar enacted the traditional elites’ patronage of courtesans when he socialized with female stars. He called pretty opera

Yi Shunding, “Kuan shangju shi,” 2:760–763. For more on male elites’ custom of keeping courtesans as romantic companions and comparable talents, see Chang and Widmer, Writing Women in Late Imperial China. 88  Wang Congming, “Pengjiao” [Worshipping role players], Xiju yuekan 1, no. 11 (May 1929): 1–3. 86  87 

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girls “my dear mother” and guided Liu Xikui and other women into writing poetry. He once wrote a poem to convey his feelings for Liu: My first wish is to become a silkworm making thread, so Xikui could wear it every day; My second wish is to become cotton clothing, so Xikui could use it to make her underwear; My third wish is to become straw paper, so Xikui could use it in the changing room; My fourth wish is to become hot water, so Xikui could use it in her bath; My fifth wish is that Xikui would become a pen of mine, so I could stroke it and carry it; My sixth wish is that Xikui would be converted into me, so I could do whatever I like with her; My seventh wish is that Xikui’s parents would have the authority to take me as their son-in-law.89

The cynical and even lunatic Yi represented the ambiguous attitude of literary elites toward young actresses. He appreciated these women’s talents as much as his own; he gave sympathy to those women because of his downfall after 1912; and his cult of female artists symbolized his betrayal of the Confucian path through which scholars would serve the state and society and his rage about the Republican revolution. Yet, he never regarded actresses as his equals. Through flattering actresses, he objectified women and fulfilled his sensual lust. For him, female beauty was always the core in the search for companionship and women’s excellence. Finally, we can conclude that, for female entertainers, a theater was a public-place-made-home where they studied arts, performed various roles, befriended colleagues, achieved fame and fortune, sought romance, and aroused the audience’s acclaim. The theater made them public in the same way they privatized theater. Through taking control of some theaters and organizing their own troupes, actresses created their own spaces and communities. The trade provided lower-class girls a way out of abject poverty but at the same time marketed their sexuality in a manner that generally fell short of outright prostitution. Male popular culture increased demand for overtly sexual female performers, but the stage also allowed women to demonstrate skills of self-sufficiency and professional accomplishments. For actresses in Beijing, work did not entirely confirm the notion of male dominance and female submission; it also provided women an outlet for perseverance, courage, and talent. 89 

Wang Kailin, Minguo nüxing zhi shengming ruge, 142.

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Modern politics shaped actresses’ identities. Nationalist mobilization elevated their social respect and stature as these women recaptured traditional feminine values and suggested the direction of social changes. Actresses faced conflicting expectations from different social forces: they were cast as erotic entertainers, moral exemplars, propagandists, new women, or spokeswomen for commoners. They were transformed by the modern theater as much as they redefined the theatrical world. The new drama movement enabled actresses to understand their mission as educators of the masses. Actresses participated in the nation-building process through presenting diverse human roles in stories that conveyed new ideals, policies, concepts, and social conduct. Through fictional plots of women’s emancipation, actresses portrayed the concepts of personal rights, self-determined marriage, and economic autonomy and created role models for women to imitate. Their performances opened a corner in the public domain where women could share their suffering, emotions, experiences, and hopes. Yet, as paid workers in a highly visible workplace, actresses risked their reputations and safety. Women working in sideline jobs from home suffered from low pay, nonrecognition, and isolation, but actresses faced the opposite problems of overattention, jealousy of their high income, suspicion, and criticism of their work. For actresses, the “body problem” worsened as their prosperity and fame grew. Men regarded pretty women as sexual toys, expendable workers, or decorative ornaments. Women had to compromise to acquire job opportunities and professional growth; effort and talent were not always decisive factors in success. If they intended to work within the system, they had to accommodate the predominantly male social institutions. Additionally, actresses risked becoming caught up in the social transformations personified by the roles they played as political instruments. The ascendance of actresses, however, was an outcome unexpected by the urban patriarchy. Intelligence, flexibility, and endurance helped such women to succeed in the public realm.

Figure 6: Doorway of a brothel in Beijing, ca. 1917– 1919. The decorated signboards highlight the names of licensed in-resident prostitutes; the simple signboards are likely those of temporary or junior prostitutes. (From the Sidney D. Gamble Photographs, Duke University Rare Book, Manuscript, and Special Collections Library. Used by permission.)

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Whereas the morality of actresses was often and widely questioned, prostitutes epitomized moral deficiency. In early twentieth-century Beijing, new elites and the government associated sex workers with urban corruption and national backwardness, viewing them as a target of reform. Among lower-class women who worked outside their households, prostitutes were the least respected and considered the most dangerous. Because these women deserted their feminine duties and entered an occupation that could ruin men’s careers and affected wives and daughters of honorable families, they were detested, demonized, and shunned. Beijing prostitutes were public women in the sense that they worked in public sites, advertised their services, and used their private rooms as social spaces to entertain male clients. If lower-class women’s work, either at home or on the street, was taken for granted as part of female domestic obligations, prostitutes’ work was a violation of both feminine virtues and public order. The “body problem” generally meant defending the female body in the public realm against intrusions by men, but for prostitutes this became an issue of using the body for commercial purposes. In urban public spaces, sex workers were seen as victimizing others and having nothing morally to safeguard. Scholars have investigated various aspects of the market for sexual services in China and conceptualized the sex trade as a hierarchical profession, a workplace for women, a forum where reformist elites criticized the old and backward China and created a new nation, and a site where the state regulated women’s sexuality and lives.1 These research 1  Xiaoqing Ye, “Commercialization and Prostitution in Nineteenth Century Shanghai,” in Finnane and McLaren, Dress, Sex, and Text in Chinese Culture, 37–57; Henriot, “Chinese Courtesans in Late Qing and Early Republican Shanghai”; Henriot, “From a Throne of Glory to a Seat of Ignominy”; Henriot, Prostitution and Sexuality in Shanghai; Ho, “Selling Smiles in Canton”; Hershatter, “The Hierarchy of Shanghai Prostitution”; Hershatter, “Courtesans and Streetwalkers”; Hershatter, “Modernizing Sex, Sexing Modernity: Prostitution in Early Twentieth-Century Shanghai,” in Gilmartin et al., Engendering China, 147–174; and

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endeavors, however, mainly focus on the southern coastal cities, neglecting prostitution in the north. The sex business in twentieth-century China was a nationwide phenomenon, but geographical and cultural conditions shaped its local custom and practice. Courtesans in late Qing and early Republican Beijing, for instance, were distinct from their contemporary counterparts in Shanghai and Canton, because they prospered with the legalization of the sex trade by the police in 1905 and the arrival of parliamentary politics during the 1910s and 1920s. Because Beijing was not a treaty port but a political and cultural center, its sex trade was intimately associated with late Qing reforms, Republican politics, the urban social campaigns, and the New Culture Movement. Its political climate affected the styles of courtesan houses, the structure of the trade, the perception of sex workers, and the type of clientele. This chapter is thus an investigation of the sexual markets in early twentieth-century Beijing, with the contention that, between 1900 and 1928, brothels in Beijing celebrated their golden age, when the collapse of the Qing moral command was followed by a dynamic Republican political life and a new and booming entertainment industry. Urban reforms actually legitimized the sexual markets, and the lack of economic development in the city led to the recognition of prostitution as an employment option or other outlet for lower-class daughters. The ways sex workers adapted suggests a sharp demarcation between upper- and lower-class girls. The nationalist discourse defined brothels as a dangerous space and a barrier to urban modernization. The Revival of the Sexual Trade Prostitution had existed in Beijing for centuries. Local courtesans were nevertheless considered by elite patrons as inferior to their equivalents in the south in regard to their appearance, capabilities, and poetic skills.2 From the mid-Ming dynasty, brothels were widely established in the city and registered with the Musical Training Institute (Jiaofangsi). Officials who spent nights at brothels or invited courtesans to drink or gamble were punished; these punishments were retained in the succeeding dynasty, but Qing law went further. The morally sensitive Manchu regime abolished the Musical Training Institute along with officially sanctioned prostitution and also prohibited the trafficking of honorable women into the sex business.3 Despite these restrictions, brothels thrived at various locations across the city, and their patronage by Manchu nobles and Han Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures. 2  Wang Shunu, Zhongguo changji shihua, 198–199; Wang Canzhi, Yandu guji kao, 225. 3  For further information on this policy change, see Sommer, Sex, Law, and Society in Late Imperial China.

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bureaucrats finally led the court to force brothels to relocate from the Inner City to the Outer City during the late nineteenth century.4 Before this, most local courtesans came from the Beijing or Tianjin areas, and their physical condition and quality of services were not satisfactory to male elites of southern ancestry. Several scholars complained about the courtesans’ inability to sing southern songs, to play a stringed musical instrument called the pipa, or to please clients with drinking games. There were only thirty-seven brothels in the city, each of which employed three to ten women. The prices for hosting a feast or spending a night at an upperclass house were low, and lower-class men could request sex services if they had a little money.5 Officials and dignitaries who were afraid of punishment or who were frustrated with the local courtesan houses switched their preferences from women’s brothels to men’s brothels called “rest places” (xiachu), where teenage actors known as “false girls” (xianggu) entertained clients.6 The sex business in Beijing was reenergized around 1900 by a group of courtesans who had passed their prime years in Shanghai and opened secret brothels for bureaucrats and nobility in the western part of the Inner City. Among them was the celebrated courtesan Sai Jinhua, who had accompanied her diplomat husband, Hong Jun, on his travels in Europe for a few years. She was also remembered in local history for her role in persuading the commander-in-chief Count von Waldersee, who led the punitive expedition against the Chinese rebels during the Boxer Uprising in 1900, to spare Chinese civilian lives and property in the wake of the foreign occupation of Beijing.7 The southern courtesans took advantage of their artistic and literary gifts and delicate features to charm upper-class men in Beijing who might have grown tired of false girls and were eager to experience new forms of stimulation.8 The Allied forces’ occupation of Beijing between 1900 and 1901 undermined the moral order and opened new opportunities for the sex trade. In addition, the urban modernization project during the last decade of the Qing dynasty increased municipal demand for revenue, and the police responded by taxing brothels beginning in 1905.9 The legalization of prostitution thus gave rise to a boom in Wang Canzhi, Yandu guji kao, 193–285. Wang Canzhi, Yandu guji kao, 286–287. 6  He Gangde and Shen Taimo, Hamengji, Chunming menglu, Donghua suolu, 139–140; Xu Ke, Qingbai leichao, 11:5094–5096; and Zhang Jiangcai, Qingdai yandu liyuan shiliao, 1:364–366. 7  Shuang Song, “Saijinhua wannian zishu” [Recollection of the old Saijinhua], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo jianghu miwen, 1:415–453. 8  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi, 7:345–348; Ye Yinfan, “Yidai xiaji Sai Jinhua” [The great courtesan-errant Sai Jinhua], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao, 1:399–405. 9  Shi Mingzheng, Zouxiang jindaihua de Beijing cheng, 39–50. 4  5 

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the trade, and the Eight Big Alleys (Bada hutong) outside the Qian Gate where courtesan houses were mostly concentrated emerged as the city’s most notorious entertainment quarter.10 The sex trade further thrived with the relocation of the Republican capital from Nanking to Beijing in 1912, and politicians and bureaucrats became ardent patrons of courtesan houses. In 1913, there were 353 licensed brothels and 2,996 prostitutes in the city. By 1918, the number had increased to 406 with a total workforce of 3,887. According to Sidney Gamble, there were at least seven thousand unregistered prostitutes in 1917, bringing the total number of prostitutes in Beijing to ten thousand, equal to one for every eighty-one residents, or one woman out of every twenty-one.11 Most brothels were registered by their rank, and they were distributed across the city. The first- and second-class houses chose to stay in the Eight Big Alleys area. The third- and fourth-class brothels were scattered along Zhushikuo Street farther south of Qian Gate, and at a few places near Xizhi Gate in the western Inner City, Chongwen Gate in the southeast, and Chaoyang Gate in the east.12 Unregistered brothels, called “unrecognizable doors” (anmenzi), were comparable to second- or third-class houses in size and condition and were thus hard to identify in residential neighborhoods.13 Aside from Chinese sex workers, there was a group of foreign prostitutes, including Japanese, Russian, Korean, Jewish, and French women, who mainly served Western servicemen and lived in hotels or other places at various spots in the city. Beijing was the Republican capital between 1912 and 1928, and its brothels experienced a heyday as they entertained various groups of political and military elites. Unlike Shanghai or Canton, where wealthy merchants replaced old-fashioned elites as the most important patrons of brothels, visitors of courtesan houses in Beijing were often powerful government officials.14 A Shang noted that, during the 1910s, politicians celebrated their victories in the Eight Big Alleys district. Courtesan houses became sites where ministers and parliamentary members carried out partisan politics. Yuan Keding, son of Yuan Shikai and the key figure in the Hongxian Monarchy Movement of 1916, often used brothel rooms to discuss his

10  A Shang, “Jiu Beijing jiyuan heimu” [The dark side of the brothels in old Beijing], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao, 1:321–329. 11  Gamble, Peking, 247. 12  Tao Guangren, “Xiri Beijing jiyuan zuier jianwen” [The evils witnessed in the brothels of old Beijing], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao, 1:454–458. 13  Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 541–542. 14  Ye, “Commercialization and Prostitution in Nineteenth-Century Shanghai”; Ho, “Selling Smiles in Canton.”

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plots with other monarchy proponents.15 One popular antithetical couplet described the linkage between politicians and prostitutes in this way: “Courtesans recruit parliamentary members without distinction, and everyone smiles when entering the house with an admission ticket.”16 Courtesan houses were also associated with the new cultural elites. It is ironic that the new intellectuals, who generally opposed prostitution, visited brothels. Shao Piaoping, chief editor of the Beijing News (Jing bao), which was a mouthpiece for urban reforms and a radical opponent of the sex trade, was in fact a frequent client of the Eight Big Alleys. His rationale was that he could collect news from officials and politicians at the dinner tables there.17 Another example was Yu Dafu, a left-wing writer and a member of the Creative Society (Chuangzaoshe) in the 1920s, who once indulged in the courtesan houses in Beijing. Through a number of short novels, Yu described a relationship between a young scholar and a courtesan named Yin Di. The scholar, probably a representation of Yu himself, was tired of his family and his job and sought a place to escape the frustrations of everyday life. The courtesan house provided him with companionship, a place to drink and chat, and a feeling of temporary happiness.18 The flourishing sex trade provided a huge number of jobs for women as well as for men. A government survey in 1930 found that brothels in the city employed 3,816 people: 2,352 males and 1,464 females.19 The business also generated commercial opportunities for others and powered the local economy. Businesses that relied on the clients from brothels mushroomed in the red-light districts. Restaurants, hotels, shops, and transportation firms sent the rent and land prices in the Eight Big Alleys area skyrocketing. Dasenli, a renowned site of courtesan houses in various garden styles, attracted two to three hundred cars every day.20 Brothels as a Business World Gail Hershatter defines the brothels in Shanghai as a women’s business in which the cooperation between “bustard [bird] mothers” (baomu) or A Shang, “Jiu Beijing jiyuan heimu.” Yishi baihua bao, 28 August 1918. 17  Bao Tianxiao, Chuanyinglou huiyi lu xubian, 679–680. 18  Yu Dafu, “Cold Evening” (“Hanxiao”), “Street Lights” (“Jiedeng”), and “Prayer” (“Jiyuan”), in Yu Dafu, Yu Dafu quanji, 1:414–421, 2:46–49. 19  Beiping tebieshi shehuiju disanke tongjigu, ed., “Benshi geden jiyuan puyi tongjitu” [Statistical chart of servants working in various classes of brothels in our city], Shehui diaocha huikan [Collection of social studies] 1 (September 1930). 20  Wang Bei, “Jiushi beifang dushi jiyuan jianwen” [What I saw and heard about the brothels in the north Chinese cities], in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao, 1:459–469. 15  16 

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“foster parents” (lingjia) and their “foster daughters” (yangnü) played a central role in the profit-driven operation of the houses.21 Prostitution in twentieth-century Beijing was modeled on the sex trade in Shanghai, with regional variations. Shanghai courtesans introduced the rules and management practices of the sex business to their Beijing cohorts during the late Qing and established prestigious “south bands” as the role models for the local brothels.22 In Beijing, the sex trade was run by veteran prostitutes who came mainly from the Jiangnan and Beijing areas and was a hierarchical organization. Brothel owners and managers standardized business procedures and practices, and they established business partnerships and employment relations. Opening a brothel was similar to starting a company. In the brothel world, business rules were unassailable, and risks were taken. In the early Republican period, the investor in a first-class brothel needed about a thousand yuan as principal. The investor then required employees—the accountants, runners, and assistants—to pay 100 yuan each as a deposit to share in the risk, provide cash flow, and pay for the license and remodeling. Brothel owners knew one another and established money pools to help with financial shortfalls. Those involved contributed a small amount to the pool and cast lots for use of the money. The more principal the owner invested, the greater the possibility that popular courtesans could be employed; without them, the odds of success were slim. The owner often had to borrow money at usurious rates if there was a business loss. Sometimes the owner simply closed the business and ran away if there were problems, leaving the debts to be paid by those who had made deposits. Zhang Wenjun, a courtesan and the daughter of a first-class brothel manager, once compared a brothel to a theater. A brothel owner was similar to a theater owner eager to find a profitable troupe. The bustard mother was equivalent to the troupe manager who controlled the talented actors and actresses. The troupe manager coordinated rehearsals, role assignments, costumes, and performers just as a bustard mother oversaw her girls. The partnership between a brothel owner and a bustard mother was also comparable to the one between a theater owner and a troupe manager in that each signed a contract and negotiated the distribution of revenues and the payment of workers.23 A brothel was an organized business and every member associated with it shouldered a responsibility. A courtesan house, for instance, had 21  Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures. The baomu/lingjia was responsible for recruiting and training girls and receiving customers. 22  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese,” in Wenshi jinghua bianjibu, Jindai Zhongguo changji shiliao, 1:330–375. 23  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.”

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an owner or manager called the “boss” (laoban) in the south band or the “fork” (chagan) in the north band. This person applied for the business license, rented and renovated the house, hired employees, and dealt with the police, gangsters, or other powerful people in the locale. The boss/ fork depended on the bustard mother or foster parent to manage operations within the brothel. The bustard mother was normally a retired courtesan or a maidservant with brothel experience. There also were two accountants (zhangfang), two or three chefs, a timekeeper, a mediator (daya), and a number of maidservants (niangyi or genma), runners (paotingde or chahu), and assistants (huoji). The outside accountant was responsible for collecting various charges from customers while the inside accountant did budgeting, kept records, and distributed profits; the timekeeper watched the brothel at night; the mediator solved disputes; the runners greeted customers and served them tea and hot towels; and the assistants cleaned, shopped, and handled other miscellaneous chores. Maidservants had an ambiguous role; theoretically, they were the courtesans’ servants, but in reality they were the eyes and ears of the internal manager.24 In the brothel, each person’s financial obligations were carefully stated. The boss paid for housing, utilities, salaries, and banquet costs; the bustard mother had girls as her human capital; and courtesans had to cover their costs for tea, watermelon seeds, candy, and cigarettes for entertaining customers. Like actors and actresses who prepared their own costumes (xingtou), courtesans had to acquire jewelry and fine clothes before they could receive customers. During the late Qing era, quality head wear cost several thousand yuan, and in the early Republican period, when people no longer favored the old fashions, a courtesan still required a minimum of diamond rings and some expensive clothes, even if she had to rent them. The girls’ earnings constituted the sole revenue of the house. The brothel owner took half; the other half was divided between the bustard mother and the courtesan if she was self-employed. The bought or leased girls had to pay their “body prices” (shengjia) before they received an income.25 Brothels in Beijing formed a hierarchy based on the amount of tax paid, the native place of the prostitutes, the quality of the girls hired, the ranks of customers entertained, and the conditions of the facilities. Three classes of brothels were recognizable during the late Qing, a structure that was officially confirmed by the police taxation that began in 1905 and by the sex trade’s official registration by the government. Brothels were ranked by various tax rates, and owners of the houses were required to Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese”; Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.” 24  25 

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pay license fees and business taxes. During the early Republican period, first-class brothels, called “small singing bands” (qingyin xiaoban), paid a 100-yuan license fee and a 32-yuan monthly tax. Second-class brothels were labeled “teahouses” (chashi) and paid a 50-yuan license fee and an 18-yuan monthly tax. Third-class brothels were named “residences” (xiachu) and paid a license tax of 30 yuan and a monthly tax of 10 yuan. Fourth-class brothels were called “small places” (xiao difang) and paid a nominal monthly tax of 5 yuan and no license fee. A brothel could be downgraded if the owner didn’t pay the correct amount. Like brothels, registered prostitutes also paid dues to attain legal status for working.26 Unlike Shanghai, Canton, or other cities where prostitutes were primarily local women, sex workers in Beijing came from a broader geographical area and served a national clientele. Native place was virtually the universal factor that categorized sex workers in large cities. Beijing was home to a more diverse population than Shanghai, and its courtesan houses were mainly split into north and south bands. Xu Ke observed that from the late Qing on, the two groups retained their boundaries and never crossed into each other’s territories. Southern courtesans were charming and considerate, but sometimes wily. The northern girls, by contrast, were honest and straightforward, but they didn’t have any skills except sexual proficiency.27 The southern girls, who came mostly from Suzhou, Hangzhou, or Yangzhou, learned musical instruments, painting, calligraphy, or even poetry, so they were able to charge their clients a higher price. Courtesans who came from Beijing, Hebei, or Shanxi generally received less education in art and literature, and they charged less. Within the south bands, courtesans from Suzhou enjoyed widespread fame, and their houses were always the most elite. To make their businesses more authentic and competitive, brothel managers of the south bands usually sought girls from the Suzhou region or brought girls from other regions to Suzhou to learn the local dialect.28 Thus, native place not only categorized the profession, but also affected a brothel’s or a prostitute’s social standing. An investigation in 1931 found that girls from Jiangsu made up 57.4% of the total number of first-class courtesans, whereas girls from Hebei Province made up 33.8%. In second-class brothels, the percentages reversed: 12.3% were from Jiangsu and 66.5% were from Hebei. In third-

26  A first-class courtesan paid an 8-yuan license fee and a 5-yuan monthly tax; a secondclass prostitute paid a 4-yuan license fee and a 4-yuan monthly tax; a third-class girl had to pay a 2-yuan license fee and a 2-yuan monthly tax; and a fourth-class women paid 1 yuan for both the license fee and monthly tax. See Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.” 27  Xu Ke, Qingbai leichao, 11:5153. 28  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.”

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and the fourth-class brothels, however, prostitutes were mainly from the Beijing area.29 Brothels were also known by the physical conditions and ages of their girls. In the late 1910s, Gamble explained the differences between upperclass and lower-class brothels: girls in first- and second-class houses were attractive, between sixteen and eighteen years old, and dressed in silk. Many were well versed in the art of entertaining, and some were even well educated. Girls in third- and the fourth-class houses were twenty to thirty years old, unattractive, uneducated, and wore cheap blue-cotton outfits.30 Mai Qianzeng’s statistical data further clarified the average ages of prostitutes: 18.4 years in first-class brothels; 23.2 to 23.3 years in second- and third-class houses; and 26 years in fourth-class brothels.31 Clearly, a girl’s status was based primarily on her physical appearance and age, and it fell as she got older. After ten to twenty years, she might become a lower-class prostitute or even an attendant for upper-class girls. In addition, a brothel’s status was associated with its size, furnishings, and decor. First-class brothels usually were in quadrangle courtyards or occasionally two-story buildings, and they had decorated front doors and lighted signs. The house’s rank was identified by plates that hung on each side of the door and sometimes through the advertising of the courtesans’ names. Courtesans lived extravagantly in multiroom suites equipped with dining tables, game tables, dressers, chairs, clocks, brass beds, embroidered curtains, silk quilts, electric fans, heaters, painted scrolls, and occasionally telephones. Second-class houses were smaller and had fewer decorations and lower-quality furniture. Third- and fourth-class brothels were found in small, shabby houses close to slum areas and had brick beds and simple furniture.32 A brothel’s class, quality of girls, and facilities determined its services and prices. Upper-class houses generally sponsored cultural and social activities while lower-class ones focused mainly on the sex trade. Girls at upper-class houses served drinks and food at tea parties, played card games, and held banquets and opera performances. Their clients were politicians, military officers, merchants, scholars, and the heads of gangs. Second-class brothels offered tea parties but didn’t have card games, singing performances, or banquets. The third- and the fourth-class brothels offered only tea and sex services. Their clients were mainly members of the laboring class. Customers were not necessarily tied to a specific class of house. Students and soldiers, for example, could visit brothels of Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha,” 117. Gamble, Peking, 250. 31  Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha,” 117–119. 32  A Shang, “Jiu Beijing jiyuan heimu”; Xu Ke, Shiyong Beijing zhinan, 22. 29  30 

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different types based on their family background or financial situation. The costs at different classes of brothels varied dramatically. Brothels as a Workplace Brothels, like factories, shops, and theaters, were workplaces for women. Because of economic hardship and limited job opportunities, single women and poor families with female members had to consider sex work as an option. At brothels, prostitutes traded their talents, skills, services, and time for profits shared by house owners, bustard mothers, their own families, and sometimes themselves. Their labor might have been forced or voluntary, but it generated an income, and their relationships with clients were primarily commercial rather than romantic. Passionate companionship between courtesans and literary elites was rare in early twentieth-century Beijing, thanks to the changing cultural environment.33 Most of the girls sold or leased to brothels by their parents or guardians were from the regions hit by flood or famine in north China. Some were abducted and changed hands several times. The price for a small girl varied between tens of yuan and a few hundred yuan. North China in the 1920s was notorious for natural disasters and warfare, which forced destitute peasants to sell their daughters at low prices.34 Parents who leased their daughters signed a contract with bustard mothers or brothel owners that stipulated the body price and years of service. A leased prostitute represented collateral. Her relatives expected to receive a loan and a portion of her income during her years of service. They had the right to redeem her if they paid back the loan plus the standard 30 percent interest. Those who sold their daughters permanently would receive a higher payment but lost the right to buy back their daughters. According to Mai Qianzeng’s interviews of 515 female prostitutes in Beijing, many joined the trade because their families were impoverished and unemployed; some were actresses who had lost their voices; others didn’t have families or viable skills; and still others were sold to brothels by their relatives after their parents died. There were also cases in which women became prostitutes because they were not satisfied with their marriages, or were migrants unable to find their relatives in the city, or had parents who worked in brothels. In some cases, girls entered the profession after being enticed by neighbors or abducted by thugs. Housewives who lost their husbands and had to raise their children also picked the sex business.35 The legal ban on slavery in 1906 put an end to the overt ownership 33  For courtesans’ culture and romance, read also Tao Muning, Qingluo wenxue yu Zhongguo wenhua. 34  Gronewold, Beautiful Merchandise, 72–73. 35  Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha,” 121–123.

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of sex slaves, and bustard mothers used the ruse of kinship to disguise the sale of girls.36 Yet, there were independent prostitutes who borrowed brothel resources to do their own business, splitting their profit with the house and its bustard mother. During the early Republican years, a steady supply of girls was generated by relentless warfare and famine, and refugees, the urban poor, and new migrants regarded prostitution as an outlet for their starving daughters and a place where they could sacrifice their daughters to support other family members. Despite the disreputable reputation, prostitution represented a job market for destitute women and girls without families. Courtesans, like actors and actresses, underwent apprenticeships in their masters’ homes where they were educated in singing, music, and conversation, and often in poetry and the classics as well. Courtesans received austere training from a very young age. When they were seven or eight, they underwent the painful process of foot binding. Since properly bound feet represented physical beauty and a righteous upbringing, the bustard mother used every means to ensure that her girls would have feet that were the right size and appropriate shape. Later, the girls learned singing and musical instruments. A professional taught them the skills of playing musical instruments and singing popular songs, and they had to get up very early to practice. During the Republican era, however, courtesans usually studied Peking Opera, though the artistic criteria were set lower than before. Girls also learned social skills, manners, and the ways to light cigarettes and serve a drink. Courtesans were experts on etiquette, following a fixed sequence when greeting their customers that always included “What is your name?” at the beginning and “Please come back” at the end. They picked their words carefully so that they would not insult their customers. For instance, they never said “See you tomorrow,” because that could be interpreted as meaning that the customer was not welcome later that same day. Courtesans were supposed to behave as elite daughters. They didn’t learn needlework or other domestic skills, and they never entered kitchens, accounting rooms, or offices. They were also prohibited from touching customers’ waists, where weapons or purses might be found. When properly trained, a teenage courtesan could comprehend human nature better than an experienced adult.37 After the apprenticeship was complete, a courtesan girl was ready to work. Unlike in Shanghai, where prostitutes openly solicited customers outside their homes, such a direct approach was forbidden in Beijing and could result in detention and fines levied by the police. For this reason, a 36  37 

Gronewold, Beautiful Merchandise. Gronewold, Beautiful Merchandise.

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courtesan usually promoted herself in newspaper advertisements that included her name, photo, address, phone number, and physical features. The press sponsored beauty contests, and reporters often wrote short stories and poems about courtesans. In addition, women’s photos and addresses were displayed on pawnshop walls; restaurants and teahouses often had lists of prostitutes at their tables and could summon girls to come and entertain guests; and rickshaw pullers received an extra commission for taking passengers to brothels. Customers always brought friends with them, which helped promote the business. Prostitutes also went to parks, markets, and theaters and, through a special dress code, captured the attention of men in these public places. Sometimes they advertised by singing in theaters.38 All these means of advertising underscore an urban culture in which prostitutes were tolerated by men of different classes. Though elite reformers and the government treated the sex trade as a social evil, the mass population nevertheless accepted it as a legitimate profession. Courtesans’ work followed a routine procedure. Yet, courtesans attempted to develop friendships and patronages with their clients through intimate services. When a guest came into the courtyard of an upper-class brothel, the gatekeeper would announce, “A guest is coming.” Then, a runner would lead the man to the living room and let him choose a girl. As the girls were presented, every flowery name was used, but courtesans who were entertaining other customers were not introduced. After the guest made his selection, he was invited to enter the woman’s room. The maidservant or bustard mother would serve him a cup of tea and a plate of watermelon seeds, and the girl would entertain him with cigarettes, songs, and conversation in an episode called the “tea party” (dachawei). If the man brought other people with him, he would be regarded as the main guest and the others as his friends. According to house rules, the main guest and girl established a special relationship reminiscent of the spousal relationship after a plate of watermelon seeds was served. If the man’s friends ordered dishes from the same girl, they violated the ancient taboo “you cannot insult a friend’s wife” (“pengyouqi, bukeqi”). Yet, only after the man had visited the girl twice was the relationship confirmed. The girl would then act as the man’s temporary wife and entertain his friends, lighting cigarettes for everyone in the room before serving the man in an imitation of the family ritual. The plate of watermelon seeds thereby symbolized the relationship between the courtesan and her client. If the client withdrew the plate (xiapanzi), it was an expression of anger and frustration and his desire to end the relationship.39 38  39 

Gamble, Peking, 254–255. Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 541–542; Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying

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A man’s acceptance of a plate of watermelon seeds from a courtesan was just the first step if he wanted to develop a more intimate relationship. A tea party cost 2 yuan, too little to make a profit for the house. The girl thus expected the client to sponsor mah-jongg games or drinking parties in the house as a sign of sincere patronage. In a first-class brothel, a mah-jongg game cost 14 yuan, and a banquet 52 yuan. A game of poker or paijiu (or pai gow, a popular gambling game played with a set of dominoes) cost several times more than mah-jongg because larger amounts were gambled. A banquet was an opportunity for the house to showcase its luxurious style. The dishes were ordered from first-class restaurants, and all the utensils were silver and fine porcelain. A high profit margin was attainable despite the expense involved. Some wealthy clients were so fascinated with their courtesans that they paid for a banquet with an amount equivalent to the cost of ten or twenty feasts.40 A common saying among sex workers was to “act according to different scenarios” (fengchang zuoxi). In other words, the entertainment a courtesan provided her customers was nothing but acting. When she met a customer, she adopted a stylistic walk, gestures, and ways of making eye contact. She presented her beauty in such a way that no one would think it frivolous. Her greetings never changed, and her services could be expanded on. As a veteran courtesan, the bustard mother directed the girls’ acting, instructing her protégés on how to please customers and squeeze more money from them. Often, she corrected the courtesan who forgot or misplayed her role when entertaining customers.41 A courtesan’s goal was not to cultivate romance but to maximize profits. Girls manipulated their relationships to generate profit-making opportunities. Since mere banquets were relatively rare, each house sponsored three festivals annually, which customers were supposed to celebrate with their girls. At each festival, courtesans would worship the Fortune God, listen to auspicious words read by a guest scholar, and host their customers who actually paid for the food and drink. Girls competed to earn the most banquet contributions. They also invited their long-standing customers to celebrate the Chinese New Year in the house. The snacks the girls offered were symbolic: green beans meant intimacy (qinqin rere) and candy represented “sweetness” (tiantian mimi). Customers, having renewed relationships with their courtesans, had to cover the costs of the expensive banquets and snack plates.42 xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 40  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 41  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 42  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese”; Xu Ke, Shiyong Beijing zhinan, 7:23.

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Apart from these celebrations, courtesans also provided services (chutiaozi) for customers who requested them at the brothels, restaurants, or private houses. Before telephones were installed in the city, customers often dispatched servants or waiters to deliver notes requesting the services of girls who sang songs or performed operas with musicians. Girls who didn’t know the customers well would sit back and sip a little of their drink; with customers they knew well, they were casual, even teasing. They especially appreciated outdoor services held at private residences because customers would gamble after the banquet and give the girls generous tips, even though they paid for the event in installments. Of course, courtesans were also sex workers whose bodies carried a price tag. In a south band house, the price for sleeping with a courtesan was 12 yuan, 2 yuan more than in the north band. The price at a secondclass brothel was 4 yuan; 2 yuan in a third-class house; and 1 yuan in a fourth-class house.43 In Shanghai, a virgin courtesan was called “small sir” (xiao xiansheng), and one with sexual experience “big sir” (da xiansheng). Though the two titles were also used in Beijing by south band houses, the more common terms were “pure boy” (qingguan) and “red boy” (hongguan). A girl’s virginity was protected out of financial rather than moral concerns. To sleep with a pure boy was to “open the bud” (kaibao), an expensive and time-consuming transaction and an important event in the house. The interested customer had to win the girl’s favor through sponsoring many upbeat events, and if he was accepted, the consummation would cost another huge sum. The union was celebrated with a replication of a wedding ceremony, with the couple treated as a bride and a groom. Most courtesans preferred keeping several long-term friendships with their clients to one-time sexual affairs. It was not proper for a man to be with a girl only once; the cost for staying overnight was insignificant compared to the cost of a game or banquet. If a courtesan really loved a man, she would rather go to a hotel room with him than keep him overnight in the house.44 Compared to other places where women earned an income through a specialty, brothels were unique workplaces. The women there rendered various services, from housewives’ obligations to professional entertaining, social coordination, and sexual services; they reenacted various social relationships such as those of lover, spouse, scholarly friend, performer, or audience and were involved in other types of private or public interactions as well. Brothels were a place where women’s specialties were many and overlapping; where the boundaries between inner and outer blurred; where there was cooperation between managers and the 43  44 

Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.” Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.”

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women they exploited; and where gender, class, native place, and age acted together to shape women’s identities. As entertainment and service businesses, brothels provided a privatized public space, an intimate social space, and a homelike workplace. Brothels as a Living Space Brothels were homes as well as workplaces for prostitutes. Girls separated from their parents had to handle their own life issues and different types of people when they went to live there. They regarded brothels as a place where they could negotiate for better living conditions and kinder treatment. Despite limited freedom and resources, prostitutes adopted various strategies to gain control of their lives and to resist abuse. Courtesans carried the honorific “miss” and were actually comparable to daughters of wealthy households. Their clothes were made of fur, silk, or imported materials and were supplied in multiple sets. Since what they wore advertised the business, their dresses were specially designed and tailored by experts. Shoude Store, for instance, specialized in designing and making dresses for courtesans, becoming so successful that it hired more than thirty workers. Tailors worked with individual courtesans to make the most appropriate clothes in terms of both shape and color. Genteel wives and daughters also had clothes tailored at the store. Girls in lower-class brothels wore cotton clothes in red or green, with thin jackets in winter and shorts in summer.45 Although courtesans paid for their clothes and jewelry, they usually ate for free. In south singing bands, girls had two meals of soup and three other dishes and a midnight snack each day. In north bands, however, girls received only rice and steamed bread from their employers and had to order other dishes from restaurants at their own expense. Girls in any but first-class brothels were responsible for their own food, either going to restaurants or hiring personal chefs. The poorest prostitutes had a steady diet of pancakes, noodles, and steamed cornbread. The culinary choices of girls with bustard mothers were also limited, and their food was also of poorer quality.46 As an example, girls in Qingyutang, a south band, were not satisfied with the food provided by the brothel and visited both Chinese and Western restaurants frequently. Courtesans were also picky regarding the products they used. Because their rooms were used to entertain elite men, they were extravagantly decorated. Western furniture was imported, and telephones, fans, and electric lights were installed, possibly as early as the Republican years. In Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese”; Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha,” 124. 45  46 

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addition, courtesans changed their curtains seasonally. When they went out in groups, they rented cars or horse-drawn carriages. If a courtesan traveled alone, she would call a rickshaw puller. Several rickshaw firms worked for upper-class brothels in the Eight Big Alleys district. Their rickshaws were new and contained many lights, and the pullers were strong young men who always showed off their speed on the streets. Courtesans also had more leisure opportunities outside their brothels than their lower-class counterparts. They observed a late schedule: they got up around noon, then dressed carefully and walked to Central Park to socialize and flaunt their beauty. Their favorite place in the park was Baisiqing, a teahouse that also served coffee and Western refreshments. Chaperoned by maidservants, courtesans used these outings to attract customers. Girls in the south bands chose Central Park, but those who worked in the north bands or in second- or third-class brothels preferred South City Park. Courtesans also liked to visit amusement parks and theaters. South City Amusement Park and the New World, a short distance from the Eight Big Alleys, were the places they patronized most. The primary attraction in the amusement parks was the civilized drama that originated in Shanghai and appealed especially to the south band girls, who liked to see actors from their hometown. The girls sought handsome actors as their romantic partners and dreamed of walking with them hand in hand (diaobangzi). In addition, they also watched movies or the Peking Opera, both of which counted as both business and leisure activities.47 There were distinctions even among first-class prostitutes. Popular and self-employed courtesans enjoyed privileges and respect in the house, whereas lesser courtesans and those controlled by bustard mothers encountered discrimination and financial hardships. Their clothes and jewelry were pawned and redeemed repeatedly, and their rooms were borrowed when more popular girls needed more space to entertain customers. If soldiers, policemen, or other unwelcome guests arrived, the lesser courtesans were assigned to deal with them. They always came in second in the competition for customers’ donations and gifts. Whereas popular courtesans never worried about bills or tips for servants, lesser courtesans had to take out loans to cover those costs. On the Chinese New Year, courtesans and their bustard mothers would receive notification about their contracts for the upcoming year. A “retaining meal” (liucai) would be delivered to the courtesan’s room if the brothel boss wanted to renew her contract. Otherwise, the courtesan and her bustard mother had to find another place to work.48 47  48 

Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.”

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Prostitutes had different degrees of control over their bodies and will. Self-employed prostitutes and courtesans might be able to choose their customers; others, however, were subject to the arrangements of their bustard mothers. Girls in first- and second-class brothels spent most of their time mingling with clients socially; others had to offer sexual services day and night. Bustard mothers exploited their foster daughters for maximum profit, but girls always had favors when dealing with customers. The saying “bustard mothers love money, but prostitutes love handsome faces” (baoer aichao, jier aiqiao) indicates the conflict between the two groups. According to Mai Qianzeng’s investigation in 1930, the third- and fourth-class prostitutes had to keep at least one customer each night and had sexual intercourse with three or four men during the day. They accepted customers during menstruation, pregnancies, and twenty days after delivering babies. Their bustard mothers tried to destroy their will through cruel punishments, including tying them up, locking them in dark rooms, forcing them to kneel on the ground, starving them, beating them, or driving cats into their pants so the animals would scratch their lower bodies.49 Additionally, prostitutes were often troubled by pregnancy, venereal disease, and psychological damage.50 Reformist newspapers usually endorsed the perception that prostitutes and their foster mothers were in opposing camps.51 Yet, prostitutes as a group were highly fragmented, and their relationships with their foster mothers could be much more complicated than what reformers put forth. A false kinship between bustard mothers and their foster daughters developed to not only moderate the control and exploitation of the girls but also to facilitate business. Because girls were raised and educated by their foster mothers, they were expected to perform the duties of daughters. Veteran courtesans passed down their skills, fame, and wisdom to their foster daughters, who were expected to support them in their old age. As managers, bustard mothers needed maternal authority and legitimacy to command their girls in a business that involved both their bodies and their wills. Girls benefited from the maternal attention and protection during difficult times and thought of the brothels as their homes. In some cases, courtesans returned to their foster mothers and resumed the sex business after their marriages failed; other girls married wealthy men as concubines and kept their ties to their foster mothers.52 Hershatter discovered that the notion of the evil madam was actually a creation of reformist writers in Shanghai. Bustard mothers and Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.” Gronewold, Beautiful Merchandise, 74–77. 51  Chenbao, 5, 7 October 1926. 52  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 49  50 

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prostitutes didn’t belong to two separate classes. Like ordinary people, their character, conduct, and relationships varied.53 This argument is partially confirmed by Zhang Wenjun, who witnessed how her mother persuaded courtesans to do business. The mother always told her foster daughters to take advantage of their youth to make their fortune and that finding a wealthy husband to marry would facilitate a reunion with their parents. She also used examples of courtesans’ successful marriages to inspire her girls to work to improve their futures and resist temptations from actors or drugs.54 The courtesans, on the contrary, usually despised those with whom they had to deal. In public they were courteous, calling their wealthy and powerful customers “Master X,” “Commander X,” or Manager X,” but in private they cursed them as “turtles,” meaning bastards. Their favorite men were young and handsome actors. In traditional China, actors and prostitutes were considered inferior. It is possible that the two groups shared the same experiences as outcasts and felt kinship to one another. Yet, prostitutes were paradoxical; they probably loved those young men and considered their romances with them compensation for their daily sacrifices. Psychologically, however, they could also make actors the targets of their wrath toward men in general. Relationships between courtesans and actors were called “reversed whoring” (daopiao) because it was thought that the women treated men in general as prostitutes from a gender-based, not individual, perspective. For example, a courtesan named Meidi announced that she would play with all the actors in the city. Courtesans didn’t make any money in their interactions with actors; instead, they paid their partners. Jiang Junjia, a Peking Opera celebrity, took advantage of this inclination and hosted his female customers in a hotel room in Xiangchang, charging each prostitute 50 yuan per night. Of course, in the spirit of true romance a courtesan could do everything within her capacity to pursue an actor. Xiangmei, a popular courtesan with the Qunfang Band, fell in love with Jiang. Even her mother’s brutal beating couldn’t persuade her not to run away with the actor.55 Usually, however, affairs with actors were merely a temporary interlude in courtesans’ lives. Bustard mothers and brothel owners knew these affairs might jeopardize their plans to manipulate courtesans for profit or marry them to the highest bidders, so they usually did their utmost to interrupt affairs. The idea of ending a career of prostitution through marriage appealed to many sex workers. Analogous to actresses, prostitutes could not Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 215–225. Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 55  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 53  54 

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expect to enter normal marriages in which young women found suitable matches. A young man usually would not or could not afford to choose a prostitute for his wife. Even if he fell in love with one and had the financial resources to redeem her freedom, his family would prevent this from happening. In many cases, prostitutes married wealthy older men as their concubines. Prostitutes thus faced a dilemma in which marriage was not the ideal alternative. Marriage as a concubine meant being a servant to the husband’s first wife and bearing tremendous discrimination and abuse from her in-laws and other relatives; this life was not necessarily better than the one they left, and many prostitutes deserted their husbands and returned to the sex business. Additionally, marriage could be a trap. Some men married courtesans in order to get control of their savings and discarded them once the money was exhausted. Others married self-employed prostitutes only to sell them to brothels.56 Despite all the danger and deception, marriage could be used as a negotiation between prostitutes and their bustard mothers. Women either redeemed their independence using their own savings or worked with their lovers to buy back their freedom, efforts that to a certain extent were accepted or even encouraged by the government and elite reformers. The government attempted to return prostitutes to their families as a method of addressing social disorder and protecting women’s virtue. Urban reformers used marriage as an instrument for women’s autonomy and improved living conditions. Bustard mothers and brothel managers adopted various strategies to keep their girls from leaving. A primary method was to lend money to the self-employed girls to make them financially obligated to the house. Self-employed prostitutes had to pay for their own clothes, jewelry, furnishings, and tips for servants, and thus they often borrowed money at high interest rates that they could not afford to repay. Mai found that 343 prostitutes of the 515 interviewed owed from 10 yuan to more than 500 yuan to brothel managers or shop owners, who charged a monthly interest rate of between 30 and 60 percent.57 In many cases, self-employed prostitutes lost their freedom because of debt and were sold to other houses. Another way the bustard mothers or brothel owners controlled their girls was by filling out fake contracts that gave them control of the girls’ income. Most of the girls were illiterate, so their papers were filled out by brothel owners or managers who often added years of bondage or increased the body prices without their knowledge. Girls bought by brothel owners or bustard mothers didn’t keep their income and were often unaware of how much they earned or saved. 56  57 

Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.”

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Similarly, introducing the girls to the addictive powers of opium was another way to tie them to the house.58 Considering the obstacles prostitutes faced, many of them refused to accept their fate. Zhao Yuzhen, the daughter of a rickshaw puller, was abducted by her neighbor and sold to a second-class brothel in 1928. Her brothel owner took all her earnings away and even once stabbed her with a knife. She then arranged to run away with three of her brothel sisters and seek asylum at the Door of Hope. Another girl, Wang Keqin, was sold to a brothel by her mother at age eleven and was trained in opera there. She was literate and pretty, and she made a tremendous profit for the brothel owner. Still, the owner turned down a customer’s offer of 3,000 yuan to redeem her freedom and instead put Wang under twenty-fourhour surveillance. Wang was starved, beaten, and required to sleep with several customers daily. Unable to stand such abuse, Wang persuaded two of her prostitute sisters to escape with her to the Door of Hope when they took an order for an outdoor service at a teahouse.59 Some prostitutes escaped to the homes of their friends or conspired to run away with their lovers. Guo Cuixi worked out an escape plan with her maidservant and left her cruel husband, who had forced her to be a third-class prostitute.60 In another case, Fenglan ran away with her lover, Mr. Chen, to avoid paying 300 yuan to her bustard mother for her freedom.61 Resistance took various forms, and not all prostitutes wanted to marry or run away. Many stayed behind and enjoyed the benefits that married women didn’t have. During the early Republican period, officers and soldiers liked to redeem prostitutes as their wives and take them to their hometowns or current military postings. Many prostitutes didn’t want to leave the capital city and argued with their redeemers. Prostitute Dong Jinfeng entered an affair with officer Hu Xueyuan, who paid 500 yuan for her freedom and permission to marry her. Despite gaining her freedom, Dong escaped because she didn’t want to leave Beijing. Hu eventually found Dong in another brothel and almost killed her because she dared resist his armed attempt to kidnap her.62 Similarly, prostitute Zhang Xiaoting was mortgaged to a brothel by her husband and was courted by Officer Zhang, who spent thousands of yuan on her and promised to redeem her. Xiaoting, however, had no intention of leaving the brothel.

58  Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha”; Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 59  Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha.” 60  Chenbao, 29 November 1925. 61  Chenbao, 12 July 1926. 62  Chenbao, 4 November 1925.

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Zhang became so outraged that he kidnapped the brothel’s accountant and demanded either a large ransom or Xiaoting.63 Prostitutes were not all submissive, weak women who tolerated bad treatment. Journalists reported numerous incidents in which prostitutes fought clients who attempted to take advantage of them. House girls could turn down men’s requests because of financial, health, or emotional reasons, although they risked punishment for this by their bustard mothers or house owners. On 28 March 1925, a woman chased a man on a rickshaw at Zhengyang Bridge and slapped his face. The police broke up the fight, and the woman said that she was Yang Xiaohong, a thirdclass prostitute, and the man was her client, who owed her 10 yuan and tried to borrow another twenty. She grabbed him before he could leave Beijing without paying.64 Still, Xiaohong’s toughness paled in comparison to that of Wang Jingui, a twenty-four-year-old mortgaged prostitute. She befriended a chef who refused to pay all the expenses he accrued in the house. Furthermore, the chef demanded that Wang pay him a half yuan every day, and he interfered with her business. Wang managed to transfer to another brothel, but the man found her and tried to extort the money at knifepoint. Wang, showing no fear, simply said, “I cannot give you any money. But you can take my life if you want.” The furious chef stabbed Wang and was arrested by the police.65 Next to money, most conflicts between prostitutes and their clients had to do with health or emotional issues. Zhao Cuiyin, a third-class prostitute, had a regular client named Wang Yuzhi. When Wang asked to spend the night, Zhao turned him down because she was ill. When Zhao refused his request for sex the next day, Wang lost his temper and kicked her to death.66 In addition, women could be murdered for ending relationships with clients. Li Hongbao, a third-class prostitute, had a suitor named Jia Fengcai, who failed to redeem Li from the brothel and somehow made himself an unpopular guest. He nearly succeeded in poisoning Li during a feast in retaliation for being excluded from the house.67 Similarly, a third-class prostitute named Liu Cuixi was stabbed to death after breaking off her relationship with Cui Yongfa.68 Evidence indicates that even lower-class prostitutes could refuse men they disliked. Though they paid a high price—including death—for free will, they sought to be more than merchandise at the mercy of men. Chenbao, 20 February 1925. Chenbao, 29 March 1915. 65  Chenbao, 22 October 1925. 66  Chenbao, 20 May 1925. 67  Chenbao, 6 September 1926. 68  Chenbao, 17 January 1925. 63  64 

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Brothels as a living space were categorized by social status and native origin. The spaces were socially constructed as prostitutes marked their brothels with various class artifacts, rituals, languages, and tastes. Sex workers didn’t have typical families, so they created false family relations and a home space for themselves. This space was hierarchical, exploitive, and abusive, but also intimate and protective. Girls who grew up there got to know one another well, and the brothel became the wellspring for their memories and emotions. Because of being socially and culturally divided, prostitutes experienced brothel spaces with vastly different experiences and emotions. Despite the horrors associated with the abduction and trafficking of girls and their forced labor, poor women found brothels a more or less permanent respite from the urban poverty and turmoil found in early twentieth-century urban areas. Debate on the Abolition of Prostitution as a Moral Space When sex workers created a space for themselves, new cultural elites established a parallel space to discuss the subject of prostitution. The elites’ space for discourse placed the sex trade in the context of the political and social reforms that were touted in newspapers and in other publications, speeches, and proposals. It was a scientific space where new elites attempted to diagnose and treat the ills of the sex trade. It was also a moral space where elite men judged prostitutes, bustard mothers, and those responsible for the thriving sex market. In addition, the space was a political forum where new elites associated prostitution with nationalism and China’s nascent modernity. This space was to some extent isolated from the brothel world, however, as the elites’ voice scarcely reached sex workers. New elites proposed the emancipation of women in China and attacked prostitution as an ancient crime that violated women’s rights and individuality. They associated sex trade with urban corruption, poverty, and moral decay, and they viewed it as a national humiliation. Hershatter observed a shift in the elite’s discourse in Shanghai, from appreciating courtesans as the embodiment of sophisticated urbanity to condemning prostitution as an exploitation of women and a national shame.69 Social reformers in Beijing generally believed that the sex industry was a by-product of the city’s growth and movement toward modernity as well as evidence of the plight of the lower class. They analyzed prostitution’s roots and impact and considered various methods to contain and abolish it. According to new elites, brothels were dangerous places where innocent men could succumb to temptation, illicit activities, and deceit. A bias was thus formed that considered sex workers threats to conventional 69 

Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 6–7.

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families and national morality. General Feng Yuxiang recalled a man named Li Liugeng who struck a gong every morning in the Eight Big Alleys beginning in 1912 to wake up fallen revolutionaries. Feng, as a nationalist warlord himself, demonstrated a strong abhorrence of the dinner parties held at brothels, where he found prostitutes’ voices and gestures seductive and unacceptable.70 Educator and May Fourth scholar Cai Yuanpei even established the Society for Promoting Morality at Beijing University (Beida jindehui) in 1918 to confront the growing trend of bureaucrats’ and government officials’ using brothels as a place to build friendships, and members of the society swore not to visit prostitutes, gamble, or take concubines.71 Sociologists sought to solve the problem of prostitution through scientific studies. They particularly analyzed the causes of prostitution and put forward various proposals. Gamble was probably the first scholar to conduct a systematic study on prostitution in Republican Beijing. Based on fieldwork conducted mostly in 1918 and 1919, Gamble examined this “social evil” in terms of its causes, history, scope, organization, recruitment, promotion, customers, and related charitable institutions. Despite his Western perspective, he analyzed the roots of prostitution in terms of Chinese culture, contemporary urban conditions, and the impact of the West. Gamble believed that prostitution primarily reflected the Chinese underestimation of women. Older women were respected because of their maternal contributions, but baby girls were allowed to die, and young women were not appreciated. Another factor that fostered prostitution was the arranged marriage, in which there usually was little affection between husband and wife and consequently an unpleasant family life. When a husband didn’t love his wife, he would seek amusements elsewhere. Gamble also noted the urban social conditions that shaped the sex trade. He found that in Beijing, men significantly outnumbered women. Beijing was a city of students, officials, and businessmen who didn’t bring their wives and families with them and therefore easily surrendered to temptation. Second, those in the working class endured long hours of exhausting work and found comfort in brothels. Third, women became prostitutes mostly because of economic pressure or when they were sold as young girls into prostitution by their families. Fourth, Gamble raised the possibility that women saw prostitution as an escape from home lives that were monotonous, isolated, and full of drudgery. He was convinced that upper-class brothels provided women an exciting and interesting

Feng Yuxiang, Feng Yuxiang zizhuan, 109, 121–122. Cai Yuanpei, “Beida jindehui zhiqushu” [The gist of the Society for Promoting Morality at Beijing University], in Gao Pingshu, Cai Yuanpei quanji, 3:127. 70  71 

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life. Girls in those houses wanted to marry wealthy men as concubines in order to upgrade their family status. Of course, Gamble didn’t ignore the corruption and moral deterioration that accelerated the booming of the sex trade in the city. He argued that officials who had many concubines and indulged in prostitution paved the way for imitation by the masses. Patronizing first-class brothels or purchasing a courtesan as a concubine was a mark of distinction in Beijing. The public didn’t censure men who indulged in prostitution, and 40 percent of the city’s residents didn’t consider prostitution a problem. Furthermore, Gamble connected prostitution to the new spirit of freedom that prevailed after 1912. He speculated that freer social relations between men and women were responsible for the increase in vice among young men and for the lowering of standards. The destruction of old values and customs made it acceptable for them to seek entertainment in houses of prostitution.72 Though Gamble provided an insightful and persuasive analysis, he looked at prostitution only as a social evil, not as an outlet for women seeking employment. Poverty and unemployment in the city were endemic, so many women joined brothels not as sex slaves but as selfemployed workers. The job paid more than most available to women and kept families from starving. Gamble traced the cultural roots of prostitution in Beijing, but he failed to place it into the larger context of prostitution in China and ignored the trend that moved prostitution from elitist culture to a form of mass entertainment. His association of prostitution with the Chinese family, marriage, and gender values was creative, but not specific enough to reveal the underlying power relations between men and women. Following Gamble was Mai, a sociologist who studied brothels and prostitutes in Beijing in the late 1920s and published his results in the journal Sociological World in 1930. Mai collected information about the number and classes of brothels and prostitutes, brothels’ tax rates and prices, working conditions and the lives of sex workers, the organization of the trade, governmental regulations, and several case studies. Because Mai gained better access to official documents and the prostitutes themselves, his research was more solid than Gamble’s and his explanation more pragmatic and specific. Still, he didn’t draw a general conclusion on the causes of prostitution but only analyzed women’s reasons for becoming prostitutes. Mai accepted Gamble’s views that the city’s gender imbalance drove men to visit brothels and that bureaucratic corruption and the public’s complacency encouraged prostitution. He also proposed several different 72 

Gamble, Peking, 242–263.

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factors that facilitated prostitution. One was that lower-class families slept together in brick beds and that close proximity could encourage incest and other abuse that would destroy a girl’s self-esteem and make her easy prey for human traffickers. Mai didn’t provide evidence to support this claim, and we don’t know whether the incest rate was higher in Beijing than in other places. Mai also cited the shortage of opportunities for women to get an education and job training. Of the 515 prostitutes he interviewed, only 8 could read and write; 98 could cook and sew; 81 could sing popular songs or operas; one knew how to spin and another knew how to knit. The literacy rate among prostitutes probably was lower than the overall rate. Only courtesans were taught performing skills; most prostitutes relied on their sexual services. Still another factor was the underdevelopment of the city’s modern economy, which resulted in widespread unemployment and the selling of wives and daughters during famine years. In addition, Mai addressed two local factors: the decline of the ruling class of Manchus and their lack of skills to support themselves and the flood of peasant and famine refugees into Beijing. Finally, Mai stated that women in Beijing had a low social position and often were trapped in unhappy marriages. Being a prostitute was actually a viable alternative for poor women who wanted a higher-than-average wage and didn’t want to marry. Compared to Gamble’s work, Mai’s was more direct and practical. He ignored larger cultural elements but focused on contemporary social and economic conditions in the city. His analysis came from interviews with prostitutes and was thus more woman-centric and credible. Above all, he saw prostitution as a kind of woman’s choice and work, thus providing an alternative approach for understanding the sex trade. The research results of sociologists laid an empirical foundation for the abolition movement in Beijing. The abolition campaign originated in Shanghai, where the International Settlement and the French Concession sponsored a large number of brothels. Western missionaries, philanthropists, doctors, and woman activists founded the Moral Welfare Committee in 1918 and urged local authorities to ban commercialized sex. Under pressure, the Shanghai Municipal Council (SMC) established the Special Vice Committee, which proposed a five-year plan to close down all brothels. This action in Shanghai inspired Chinese reformers to establish the Abolishing Prostitution Society (Feichanghui), which sought to promote a nationwide antiprostitution movement.73 In the late 1910s and early 1920s, the antiprostitution campaign was a part of the New Culture Movement, which championed the cause of women’s emancipation. Feminist scholars proclaimed that prostitutes were 73 

Dagong bao, 24 May 1920.

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abused more than ordinary women and their existence made a mockery of women’s rights. Left-wing intellectual Li Dazhao justified the abolition of prostitution as a humanitarian cause, a way to protect free choice in marriage, a requirement for public health, a necessity for guaranteeing the individual freedoms granted by law, and a means of ensuring women’s equal status. He recommended several methods for removing prostitution: prohibiting human trafficking, restricting the number of sex workers, establishing rehabilitation facilities, and promoting free education for women.74 Li’s article provided guidelines for the antiprostitution discussions that found a forum in the Morning News Supplement (Chenbao fukan), a mouthpiece of reformers in Beijing. In 1923, a contributor named Zhi Shui published “My Opinions on the Abolition of Prostitution” (“Wuode feichangguan”), which criticized the antiprostitution movement in Shanghai and Beijing. In this essay, he derided the Shanghai International Settlement’s efforts as “naive” and “superficial” and reported on the SMC’s methods and their frustrating outcomes. Zhi claimed that the SMC ordered brothels under its jurisdiction to draw lots to determine whether their licenses should be withdrawn. Those who drew the unlucky numbers cheated the authorities by changing their registrations, becoming illicit sex workers, or bribing the Chinese staff that worked for foreigners. The antiprostitution campaign thus failed to make a dent in Beijing’s sex business.75 Compared to Shanghai, he observed, Beijing was much further behind in the effort, thanks to the city’s greed for the tax revenues generated by prostitution. The author questioned the proposal that targeted registered prostitutes and ignored the others. He argued that both types traded sex for money and deserved the same treatment, although it was impossible for the police to track down every single prostitute. Zhi stated that although the reasons for banning prostitution—to maintain social morality, protect women’s dignity, improve women’s lives, and defend women’s chastity— were righteous and honorable, they were impossible to achieve. No matter how hard the government tried, it could not eliminate the sex trade completely. He further contended that sex was a natural human desire that was not immoral if chosen freely by both parties. The elimination of “money-based oppression” was necessary to safeguard legitimate sex. Thus, money should have no role in people’s sexual lives, and welfare 74  Li Dazhao, “Feichang wenti” [The issue of antiprostitution], Meizhou pinglun [Weekly review] 19 (27 April 1919), quoted in Liu Zhiqin, Jindai Zhongguo shehui wenhua bianqian lu, 3:453. 75  Hershatter summed up the reasons the antiprostitution campaign in Shanghai in the 1920s was unsuccessful as a weak municipal government with limited jurisdiction, a refusal to acknowledge the many vested interests that benefited from prostitution, and an inability to develop a comprehensive welfare program that could address the social causes of prostitution. See Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 287.

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should be central to the abolition movement. Finally, the author pointed out that because most women were forced into the sex trade because of financial difficulties, the movement should address the economic forces affecting women rather than simply force them to abandon their sole skill and livelihood.76 Newspaper reporters usually wrote about the moral dimension of prostitution and related the issue to the cultural enlightenment movement. They influenced popular opinion about all aspects of the trade and unequal gender relations in China. Their primary concerns were romantic love and the new morality, against which the sex trade was a great violation. Zhi Shui, for instance, distinguished himself from the old moral defenders who expressed anxiety about prostitution’s damage to women’s chastity and the family, and he justified sex that grew out of free love. He attacked prostitution for insulting the romantic ideal and treating women as merchandise. Like sociologists, however, he realized that prostitution arose out of a social environment that deprived women of opportunities and dignity, and thus he proposed fundamental changes. Another contributor, Zhu Zhenxin, published a long article in the Morning News Supplement in 1924 and elaborated on how to save prostitutes. He claimed that prostitution promoted the trafficking of women, abuse of sex workers, seduction of youth, and spread of venereal diseases. According to Zhu, brothels wasted money on exaggerated fashions; prostitutes had to spend their own money to decorate their rooms and buy expensive clothes and jewelry; and clients spent too much on their patronages of girls. In addition, the author cited data from the United States on factors that drove young women into the sex trade: lack of family protection, a deficient education, low-paying jobs, and bad character and habits. He specified the causes that lured girls into prostitution in China: warlords and bandits destroyed homes and brought about largescale dislocations that placed young girls in a vulnerable position; the Chinese family was a “dark prison” that failed to offer women compassion and understanding and compelled them to run away; and women who financially relied on their fathers, brothers, or husbands had to choose either death or a disreputable occupation when their supporters were gone. He argued that Chinese women entered the sex trade not out of personal volition but for family or social reasons. Many girls were sold to brothels when they were too young to make their own decisions. The trafficking of women in China, if it was not exactly kidnapping, was widely accepted, and the entertainment industry generated a high demand for female workers. 76 

Chenbao fukan, 2 December 1923.

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The author recommended the Mixed Court Home or rehabilitation center concept adopted by Americans as the most effective method of curing this social illness. Prostitutes discussed their personal information and experiences at these centers and received physical and psychological treatment. They also acquired work skills and health care that would help them restart their lives. He praised the Door of Hope (Jiliangsuo) in Shanghai, which was modeled on the American concept. He noted that the Door of Hope could rescue only women who had already fallen into prostitution; it was more crucial to prevent innocent women from entering the sex trade. He proposed reforms in family relations and social welfare and recommended that parents should be educated to protect their children and understand that they didn’t have the right to sell their daughters. Meanwhile, society should establish charitable foundations for widows’ families and orphans. He also suggested that healthy forms of entertainment should be promoted in the city and that outdoor activities such as swimming, ice skating, ball games, and boating should be encouraged as a replacement for frequenting prostitutes. Finally, the author recommended that schools teach girls work skills and moral values while helping them correct inappropriate conduct. Schools should also teach boys to control their desires and to avoid adhering to a moral double standard.77 Like Gamble and other scholars, the author realized that most girls were not responsible for entering the world of prostitution; economic and social factors had destroyed their lives. Yet, he didn’t believe that prostitution in early twentieth-century Beijing was a result of urban employment and women’s desire to overcome economic hardship and family crises. His analysis was nevertheless insightful and indicative of contemporary thought on family reform. Prostitution was not viewed as a threat to the family but as a result of oppressive and irrational family life. Coming from an elite with a Western perspective, his advice to eliminate the sex trade was unrealistic and naive. He didn’t acknowledge that modern recreational activities had little to do with the prostitution that was endemic in the United States and other Western countries. The Door of Hope could probably rescue only those who intended to quit. But, the majority of girls were registered by the police as legitimate employees of brothels and were controlled by their house managers. They had no reason to be rescued unless they wanted to quit or could quit. Their very rescuers were the protectors of the institution. Alongside the Morning News Supplement was Women’s Weekly (Funü zhoukan), another site where new cultural elites debated the abolition of prostitution. A man named Zhou Zongwu published an article titled 77 

Chenbao fukan, 16–20, 22–24 February 1924.

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“Feichang yundong” (The Abolishing Prostitution Movement) in 1925 to analyze the harms of the sex business. He described the lives of sex workers being as dark as the “eighteen-layered hell” (shibaceng diyu) and asserted that the oppression of prostitutes was inhumane and far worse than the mistreatment experienced by ordinary housewives. The liberation of prostitutes was thus a cause of social justice and human rights. Yet, he switched his attack to the injurious effect of prostitution on men and national health and described the sex trade as not only the cause of moral decay but also the origin of corruption and epidemic disease. He argued that young and capable men who indulged in the pleasures found in brothels lost their money, time, and competitive edge; sex workers spread venereal disease to their clients, who in turn infected their wives and children, and thus undermined the quality of life. “How can such sick and slavelike people compete with others?” he asked. “It is for the national wealth and future that we have to lift those women from this dark hell,” he concluded.78 On the other side of the argument was a person named Huang Shaogu, who defended prostitution in his article “The Issue of Survival or Abolition of Prostitution” (“Changji cunfei wenti”), published in 1925. Huang argued that prostitution served a useful purpose because other reforms, such as young people’s social mingling, free-choice marriage, healthy entertainment, and equal rights and opportunities for women, were yet to be accomplished. He justified the sex trade mainly from a male perspective and, ironically, in the language of the New Culture Movement. For instance, he said that prostitutes had a steady market because of constant demand from men. Young men lacked a regular heterosocial life and thus visited brothels to meet their sexual or social desires. Men also could not participate in free-choice marriage and used prostitutes to ease their frustration. Actually, those who had girlfriends or loving wives rarely needed to go to brothels. In addition, the lack of healthy entertainment and the high cost of other recreational activities drove many lower-middle-class and lower-class men to brothels, where they were cheered up through the tea, cigarettes, games, and chats found there. Finally, Huang contended, women who were idle and refused to work were good candidates for prostitution. In conclusion, Huang insisted that sex workers could be cleaned up, but they deserved to continue their business. Only after other fundamental problems were solved could prostitution be abolished.79

78  Zhou Zongwu, “Feichang yundong” [The Abolishing Prostitution Movement], Funü zhoukan 21 (6 May 1925): 161–162. 79  Huang Shaogu, “Changji cunfei wenti” [The issue of survival or abolition of prostitutes], Funü zhoukan 23 (20 May 1925): 178–180.

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Huang’s opinion invited a fierce rebuttal in the journal by a woman named Jun Ping, who declared that prostitution was symbolic of the sickness of human society and that its abolition couldn’t even be envisioned until society was reformed. She accused Huang of supporting men’s illicit leisure interests and of treating women as nothing but playthings and sexual toys. She argued that current social conditions didn’t cause prostitution; instead, the problem was mainly caused by economic oppression. The new cultural reforms might be able to uplift people’s character and tastes, but they could not prevent men from visiting brothels. Prostitutes were human beings, not mere outlets to satisfy men’s sexual desires and frustrations. It was not reasonable to advocate that prostitution be tolerated and even protected before society was reformed and before the new cultural notions and practices were accepted.80 As a feminist woman, Jun Ping took a strong moral stance to side with sex workers and rebuke men’s legitimization of prostitution. She insightfully separated the abolition of prostitution from the promotion of the new culture, recognizing the economic forces that often compelled women to enter the trade. The antiprostitution discourse placed some pressure on the police but never produced tangible results. In 1920, the Board of Police implemented a new regulation dictating that girls under the age of sixteen were not permitted to undertake sex work; prostitutes older than twenty-six were required to leave the profession; and sex workers who were married were forbidden to reenter the guild. The regulation also stated that brothels that hid these violations would be shut down.81 Compared to Shanghai, where a joint effort between Western abolitionists and Chinese reformers urged the SMC to take action, Beijing heeded only the opinions of intellectuals, which failed to convince. The government and police wanted the revenues generated by the sex trade, and the local male society demanded that brothels be retained. Prostitutes who entered sex guilds because of economic incentives usually had fewer alternatives than their Shanghai counterparts and operated under official protection. The antiprostitution campaign in Beijing was fundamentally a conversation among elites that had little effect on the lives of sex workers. While brothel managers in Shanghai changed their registration, moved out of the International Settlement, or let their girls become illicit sex workers to get around the SMC’s regulations,82 prostitutes in Beijing felt safe and secure as long as they paid taxes and cooperated with the police. 80  Jun Ping, “Du Huang Shaogu ‘Changji cunfei wenti’ ” [Reading about “The issue of survival or abolition of prostitutes” by Mr. Huang Shaogu], Funü zhoukan 24 (27 May 1925): 185–188. 81  Chenbao, 2 December 1920. 82  Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 271–287.

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The documentation of prostitution in Beijing confirmed scholarly opinions that sex workers in modern China were not merely victims but also working-class women. Because the city failed to provide sufficient employment opportunities, women had to generate a market where they could profit from whatever services they could offer. The sex business was hierarchical, with vast differences between courtesans and streetwalkers. It is difficult to argue that prostitutes belonged to a single oppressed class, since many courtesan girls had a life comparable to that of elite women.83 Yet, Beijing was distinct from Shanghai or other cities because of its political status and geographical location. In Beijing, the local political class featured prominently in the city’s sex trade, which was fragmented into north and south bands, and prostitution was associated with the New Culture Movement. Prostitutes and their bustard mothers created a social space for male elites, a sex market for ordinary men, and a working and living space for themselves. Brothels, despite their notoriety, constituted a public realm where women found alternatives and new social relations. An unequal gender relation was established as women who offered their services to men were denounced as evil and destructive, whereas the men who had the power to patronize, regulate, or shape the sex trade considered themselves victims and defenders of the moral order. New intellectuals, though their influence in the city was limited, initiated a moral space to judge and criticize the sex industry and its workforce. They regarded prostitutes as victims of broader national ills and, through scientific or moral discourse, subjugated the issue of prostitution to the urban reform agenda that had the purpose of national rejuvenation.

83  Ye, “Commercialization and Prostitution in Nineteenth-Century Shanghai”; Henriot, Prostitution and Sexuality in Shanghai; Ho, “Selling Smiles in Canton”; Hershatter, “The Hierarchy of Shanghai Prostitution”; Hershatter, “Courtesans and Streetwalkers”; and Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures.

Figure 7: Illustration of a mother-in-law beating her daughter-in-law on the street while two female neighbors try to stop the violence. (From Beijing xingshi huabao, 25 December 1909.)

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One outcome of urban reform was the state’s effort to penetrate and regulate Beijing’s burgeoning population through its police force. The ubiquitous policemen presided over streets and neighborhoods, coming into close contact with ordinary citizens daily. Their interactions with women were intensified, too, because of women’s growing presence in public. Like family patriarchs who looked after women at home, paternalistic policemen watched over women in public. During the late Qing and early Republican periods, the police defended female domesticity in an attempt to keep women from falling into life on the street and adopted various policies to reduce the numbers and influence of the “dangerous” women already there. Mary Ryan has categorized nineteenth-century American urban women as “endangered” and “dangerous” in the context of the assumptions of the bourgeois class. Endangered women were clearly in the middle and upper classes, while dangerous women were the streetwalkers, beggars, and vagrants from the lower classes. Businessmen and reformers protected endangered women through gender segregation in public spaces, and lawmakers attempted to restrict the freedom of dangerous women.1 This division of women in public epitomizes the urban elites’ attitudes toward women of different classes, but it needs to be modified when applied to the Beijing scenario. In the eyes of Beijing authorities, dangerous women could be similar to those in American cities, but the endangered should include women from decent lower-class families. Policemen believed that girls and women could be endangered morally and physically if allowed to mingle with men in public, and thus female citizens were subject to segregation and monitoring. Prostitutes, homeless women, and female criminals threatened people of both sexes and thus should be restrained or banned. The dangerous and endangered, however, differed according to context. Prostitutes, for instance, threatened men’s morality, finances, and families, yet they were themselves victims of traffickers, bustard Ryan, Women in Public, 58–94.

1 

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mothers, or other corruptive forces. The police and male elites generally regarded public space as a male territory, and women who entered this territory were misplaced “others.” Spatial divisions between men and women were flexible and ever changing, but the principle of the two gender spheres persisted through the early twentieth century. Men’s use of urban public spaces was considered natural and reasonable, but women’s use of those spaces was questionable and a focal point of attention. Space and gender were thus interrelated as women were treated as alienated and troublesome in urban public spaces. The policing of women in public symbolized the state’s attempt to sustain traditional virtues and construct a national identity. To uphold feminine virtues and accommodate those virtues into unstable and uncertain modern times was imperative as the reformist state and nationalist elites conducted the task of nation building during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The contemporary nationalist discourse was ambiguous regarding both Chinese women’s moral legacy and their backwardness, which allegedly hindered the nation’s progress. The change, however, was rarely promoted as full-scale Westernization. The Confucian ideal of womanhood that was now under attack was also used by nationalist elites as central to the development of a new feminine character. The state’s approach to women during the early twentieth century was both nationalist and conservative, centering on the revival of traditional feminine virtues and the adoption of Western learning and an awareness of women’s obligations to the nation-state. The late Qing government championed a new type of women’s education that emphasized a comprehensive cultivation of women’s moral values, knowledge, and physical strength. The government emphasized such ancient virtues as chastity, obedience, and frugality as the fundamental principles to guide the implementation of Western learning and to resist the concept of individual liberty and political participation. The government sought to cultivate virtuous mothers who were responsible for educating those around them. The isolation of female students was particularly emphasized. For example, all teachers and servants at girls’ schools were required to be female; students could not go out without a chaperone; and male visitors were not allowed to enter the school compounds.2 This conservative view of womanhood changed slowly when China entered the Republican age. The new government continued the imperial policy of rewarding chaste women in the 1910s by giving plaques to those whose filial piety and chastity made them role 2  “Xuebuzou xiangyi nüzi shifan xuetang ji nüzi xiaoxuetang zhangcheng zhe” [Memorial for the scrutiny of women’s normal school regulations and women’s elementary school regulations by the Board of Education], in Li Yu-ning and Chang Yu-fa, Jindai Zhongguo nüquan yundong shiliao, 1842–1911, 2:974–991.

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models for others, or who committed suicide or refused to remarry after their husbands died, or who resisted attacks by would-be rapists.3 The Republican police, in response to the women’s suffrage movement after the 1911 Revolution, overtly deprived women of their rights to attend political assemblies or to join political societies.4 The government’s actions were in response to women’s public activism during the late Qing and early Republican years, behavior that was at odds with the notion of virtuous women. The government was not intent on returning to the previous standards of seclusion and obedience but sought to contain women’s growing political enthusiasm. The government imagined a compromise between Chinese femininity as a national resource and women’s domestic patriotism as a Western by-product. The state’s limits on women’s rights and Westernization were best articulated by Tang Hualong, the minister of education in the late 1910s. Tang criticized women’s seclusion in traditional China as producing narrow-mindedness and ignorance, and he proclaimed that the past treatment of women was not appropriate for contemporary society. Yet, he also praised women’s domestic virtues, which he considered responsible for women’s noble character. He rejected the feminist proposal that would remove gender boundaries and grant women equal rights and political opportunities, and he expressed deep concern about the emergence of schools that taught law and political science to women. In addition, he stated that his pedagogical purpose was to train “good wives and virtuous mothers” competent to oversee their households. Women’s intellects were to be developed only insofar as the subjects learned brought them into the trend of modernization.5 Tang’s vision of women’s progress was reformist, and he proposed a concept of womanhood that was more compatible with the competitive modern age. Female domestic duties were virtuous activities for women, and the pragmatic knowledge and 3  “Baojiang tiaoli” [Rewarding ordinance], Zhengfu gongbao [Government bulletin], no. 662 (11 March 1914); “Xiuzheng baojiang tiaoli” [Revised Rewarding ordinance], Zhengfu gongbao, no. 664 (20 November 1917); “Xiuzheng baojiang tiaoli shixing xize” [Detailed rules for executing the Revised Rewarding ordinance], Zhengfu gongbao, no. 673 (30 November 1917); all in Xu Huiqi, Liu Jucai, and Xu Yuzhen, Zhongguo jindai funü yundong lishi ziliao, 1840–1918, 711–712. The rewarding of moral women was institutionalized by the Chinese state, which intervened in the ordering of the private domain. See Elvin, “Female Virtue and the State in China.” 4  “Zhian jingcha tiaoli” [Rules of the Security Police], Zhengfu gongbao, no. 653 (2 March 1914), in Xu Huiqi, Liu Jucai, and Xu Yuzhen, Zhongguo jindai funü yundong lishi ziliao, 1840– 1918, 710–711. 5  “Jiaoyu zongzhang Tang Hualong tan nüzi jiaoyu” [The minister of education Tang Hualong talks about women’s education], Jiaoyu zazhi [Magazine of education] 6, no. 4, in Xu Huiqi, Liu Jucai, and Xu Yuzhen, Zhongguo jindai funü yundong lishi ziliao, 1840–1918, 712–713.

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techniques women acquired would help their husbands in the smooth running of the household and the education of sons for service to their country. The state’s vision of women’s development provided a guideline for the local police, which regarded monitoring of women in public as a means of defending Chinese civilization. Unlike the Ming and Qing officials who allowed women to venture into public spaces mainly on holidays, the Republican police did little to prohibit women’s outdoor activities. In place of imperial guards and censors, the new police force was more institutionalized and intruding, taking the responsibilities of administration, security, judiciary, and moral education. Even as they gradually accommodated mixed-sex gatherings, they never forgot the ideal of women’s moral propriety. Republican law recognized certain women’s rights and treated women as active agents with legal responsibility. Lawmakers, implementing the principle of social equality, intended the civil code to be the major force in reshaping gender and family relations.6 As law enforcement officers, policemen to some extent protected women’s rights. Yet, they recognized their special duties—excluding women under certain circumstances, mediating family disputes, correcting women’s offensive language and behavior, rescuing women from kidnappers, and rehabilitating fallen women—as part of their broader mission of defending women’s domesticity and shielding women from the material temptations of modern urban life. Alison Dray-Novey identified a spatial order in Beijing based on residents’ occupation and ethnicity that resulted from the city’s growth and conflicting urban subcultures.7 But when people of different categories mingled in public and the spatial order was hard to maintain, the police pursued a policy of gender segregation and punished both sexes when violating their presumed social roles and behavior. The battle between the police and lower-class women who worked as prostitutes or in other disreputable occupations raged as the police sought to return these women to the domestic realm. Subjugation of these women became the mark of success for the police in their effort to prove their moral authority, efficiency, and power. As authorities on the urban street, the police had daily contact with ordinary women. This interplay became a central theme in late Qing and early twentieth-century Beijing. How did the police implement the patriarchal principles that contributed to the maintenance and construction of power relations between the two sexes? What kind of vision and power did the police adopt in managing urban public spaces and regulating women’s public presence? Several scholars have described the multiple 6  Kathryn Bernhardt, “Women and the Law: Divorce in the Republican Period,” in Bernhardt and Huang, Civil Law in Qing and Republican China, 187–214. 7  Dray-Novey, “Spatial Order and Police in Imperial Beijing.”

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roles of contemporary police forces in the city and underscored police regulation of urban public spaces and people’s everyday lives as crucial to the modern urban transformation.8 This chapter shows similar roles in police control of urban public spaces, but it focuses more on the interactions between women and policemen. Through an analysis of police methods of handling different categories of women in a patriarchal society, this chapter hypothesizes that the police were both a friend and an enemy of ordinary women. The police mission was not simply protecting women’s domesticity and femininity, but seeking a balance between the old and the new, between women’s home lives and their public presence, and between honorable women and dangerous women. The tension between law enforcement’s desire to intervene in women’s lives and women’s growing insistence on their right to be present in public constituted a new topic in urban politics. Containing Women during the Qing Dynasty Women’s outdoor activities spurred paradoxical reactions from male elites during the Qing dynasty. Susan Mann revealed the ambiguous attitude of Qing rulers: on the one hand, as Buddhists and the respectful sons of pious mothers, they adopted a tolerant or even sympathetic view of religious institutions and women’s associations with them. On the other hand, they saw women’s pilgrimages as one of the most troubling signs of social disorder and declining moral standards, and consequently they recommended control of women’s temple visitations.9 This complex attitude eventually extended to other agendas of women beyond the household. Women’s participation in family ceremonies that took place in public, such as the ritual of sweeping graveyards during the Qingming Festival or visits to their family homes, might be permissible if the women were properly guarded and concealed from public view, because those activities strengthened family unity or reinforced marital ties between families. Women’s visiting lantern markets or temples during festivals also met with approval because those activities might benefit the family and children, relieve women’s stress, symbolize dynastic success, and create a sense of communal harmony. Yet, these same forays into public were also considered amoral, dangerous, and irritating. One official under the Kangxi reign wrote on a poster: Women and girls of both gentry and ordinary families should stay in their inner quarters. It is acceptable if they visit their parents’ homes or 8  Wakeman Jr., Policing Shanghai, 1927–1937; Stapleton, Civilizing Chengdu, 77–110; and Wang, Street Culture in Chengdu, 131–160. 9  Mann, Precious Records, 194.

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City of Working Women their married daughters. Yet, it is amoral and dishonorable if they watch New Year’s parades, view lantern exhibitions, listen to local operas, patronize Buddhist or Daoist temples, or mingle with male strangers. Furthermore, those who like to roam the streets might have romance in mind. Fathers, brothers, and husbands thus should contain their women.10

According to many Qing male elites, the persistence of the principles of gender distinctions and the pragmatic implementation of those principles constituted two contradictory but mutually dependent means of managing women. From the Song dynasty on, strict adherence to the Confucian sense of shame (lianchi) required the literal seclusion of women. Yet with the new economic and social trends that developed in the late Ming, women increased their degree of freedom outside the home and challenged the doctrine of distinctions, consequently generating concern and debate. Even cultural conservatives such as Chen Hongmou recognized the social changes that gave women greater freedom to participate in interests outside the home and allowed girls to be formally educated, with exposure to the outside world.11 The ambiguity in the elites’ attitude toward women’s confinement persisted through the late Qing and early Republican periods, when the ideology of absolute seclusion yielded to a more flexible and practical approach that was accepted by the government, police, and most elite households. Yet, women’s outdoor freedom varied in the light of distinctive social status, ethnicity, age, or locality. In Qing Beijing, the official hostility toward women’s public presence and the mixing of the two sexes in public was strong, and quite a few male elites presumed that women were risking their safety by becoming vulnerable to rape, kidnapping, and other crimes. Lawmakers and bureaucrats were primarily concerned with the regulation of sexual behavior as a way to reinforce gender roles and women’s chastity, with a focus on shifting from status performance to gender performance.12 The imperial government sought to civilize commoners through punishing rape and sodomy, prohibiting prostitution, and rewarding chaste widows and martyred women.13 As a fortress of Confucian orthodoxy and the capital city under the central government’s surveillance, Beijing showcased the rigorous bureaucratic handling of women’s roles in urban public spaces. An anonymous author wrote on the menace that temple dramas presented to female audiences: “If [young women] watch Wang Liqi, Yuan, Ming, Qing, sandai huijin xiaoshuo xiqu shiliao, 101–102. Rowe, Saving the World, 313–322, and “Women and the Family in Mid-Qing Social Thought,” 1–41. 12  Sommer, Sex, Law, and Society in Late Imperial China, 308–311. 13  Huang, Code, Custom, and Legal Practice in China, 178–179. 10  11 

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plays that depict conspiracies, crimes, or romance, in which clowns and young female players deliberately exaggerate their ridiculous characteristics, they might be carried away.… Consequently, they will desire love and even commit adultery.”14 Most officials, however, condemned the highly popular temple performances as existing simply to “provide opportunities for the sexes to mingle” and “waste money.” The author of the Gazetteer of Shuntian Prefecture (Shuntian fuzhi), compiled during the Guangxu reign (1875–1908), considered women’s presence on the street, worshipping of deities, and staying at temples with men to be detrimental.15 It seems that, before the late Qing, the “dangerous women” (for example, prostitutes and actresses) who lived and worked in public were rare and well contained, so that official concerns were mainly devoted to the seclusion of women or to keeping respectable women safe from external temptations. Advised by bureaucrats, the Qianlong emperor (r. 1737–1796) banned charitable societies that might “inspire women” and “corrupt public morals,” and he punished officials who encouraged their wives and concubines to visit temples.16 Still, the appeal of temple fairs was irresistible. Bureaucrats kept an eye on temple gatherings and urged the Qing court to take action against unorthodox activities. The Daoguang emperor was advised by his Manchu ministers that Manchu men and women went together to Mt. Miaofeng every April, while criminals in strange dress established societies in the name of charity, forbade religious societies at temples on the grounds that they had behaved bizarrely, and deceived donors into giving money for illegal causes.17 Despite official restrictions, charitable societies thrived. Their performances were the highlights of temple fairs and were favorites of female tourists. The Xianfeng emperor (r. 1851–1861), convinced by Censor Lunhui that “bandits are involved in parades and dramatic performances [at the fair of Mt. Miaofeng], which leads to mingling of the sexes and undermines decency,” issued a prohibition forbidding these public shows.18 Yet, the decrees and regulations on paper were unenforceable in reality, and the popularity of temple fairs continued unabated. Elite families tended to obey the rule and for the most part permitted only their old women and small girls to go to temples, but lower-class women attended in full force.19 Wang Liqi, Yuan, Ming, Qing, sandai huijin xiaoshuo xiqu shiliao, 273. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, lisuzhi, 7:163–164. 16  Zhao Shanlin, Zhongguo xiqu guanzhong xue, 98. 17  Qingshilu [Confirmed records of the Qing dynasty], 37:1072, cited in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 159. 18  Qingshilu, 40:702, cited in Beijingshi dongcheng yuanlinju, Beijing miaohui shiliao, 159–160. 19  Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 551. 14  15 

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The Qing government and elites devoted their primary consideration to the safeguarding of sexual segregation threatened by women’s pursuit of leisure in public spaces. Though their antagonism toward the intermingling of the sexes and the violation of the feminine moral code was strong, they were unable to ensure how and to what extent the prohibitions should be executed. Since women’s public presence was documented constantly during Qing times, the emperors’ edicts and governmental rules spoke more like ethical indoctrinations than like legal restrictions. Women’s seclusion in Chinese history was always an ideal of elite households, and spatial separation, if somehow practiced, was much less important than morally appropriate behaviors and faiths. It seems that the elites’ ambiguous attitude toward their own women’s outgoing tendencies, the Manchu women’s greater physical mobility, and the local holiday customs worked in conjunction to undermine the effects of official regulations. The exclusion of women from public spaces thus tended to be a family option rather than a state policy based on the elites’ consensus. Regulating Public Spaces during the Early Twentieth Century Well-trained and well-equipped, the municipal police force, which derived from the Repair and Patrol Bureau (Gongxunju) founded in 1902, to a great extent replaced the old city guards and special censors as both an administrative and a security force and institutionalized the control of women outside their residences. The police force resembled the old city censors and magistrates who had attempted to ban the selling of theater tickets to women and had expelled prostitutes, arrested abductors of girls, and prohibited sexually mixed crowds at temple fairs.20 In the Qing capital, the belief in separate domains between the sexes was widely accepted and effective in preventing women from mixing with men in public for most of the year, although women ventured into public sites on holidays. By comparison, the police in the late Qing and early Republican eras had to tackle a situation made much more complicated by the city’s transition into modernity. The police had to recognize women’s public activities as normal, and thus it focused mainly on how to “guide and discipline” women who forgot their virtue and ignored the taboo against mingling with men. The omnipresent policemen on the streets interacted with ordinary women daily and intervened in cases of women damaging public sanitation (for example, by spitting, urinating, or disposing of night soil in public), family disputes, runaways, the sex trade, and suicides.21 The late Qing Board of Police supervised a Correcting Popular Culture Branch (Zhengsuke) Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:371–433. Strand, Rickshaw Beijing, 65–97; Chen Hongnian, Gudu fengwu, 59–63; Shuntian shibao, 31 May 1915; Beijing nübao, 6, 20 March 1908; and Chenbao, 13 November 1925. 20  21 

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responsible for investigating such public places as hotels, wine houses, teahouses, and temple fairs. Women who worked in brothels, theaters, and acrobatic troupes or who were recommended by employment agencies as maidservants were under the jurisdiction of this branch.22 To establish a new civic code, the Board of the Police in 1906 implemented the “Provisional Regulations on the Violations of Police Rules” and its supplement, which outlawed many activities involving women, including performing in licentious plays, becoming aggressive while begging, and resisting interrogation by the police. Women guilty of these offenses were subject to a penalty of three to ten days of detention or a fine of 1 or 2 yuan. Women who cursed others on the street or resisted police intervention when with men at temple fairs were also punished.23 If Ming and Qing authorities mainly focused on confining women to their homes, police in the late Qing and early Republican eras devoted most of their energy to the segregation of the sexes in public. Women were allowed to appear in public as long as they did not mix with men. The Beijing Women’s Daily reported on a fund-raising show for women held at the Protecting the Country Temple in 1907. A number of policemen were assigned to keep men from sneaking in. The police force usually approved middle-class daughters’ requests for nationalist demonstrations or charity drives if those activities were for women only. They regarded the public episodes sponsored by girls’ schools or female clubs as progressive and beneficial to the society and thereby offered their protection. On the contrary, the police force was very critical about women’s involvement in entertainment. They did their utmost to exclude women from theaters: theater managers were prohibited from selling tickets to female customers. Women were allowed to watch dramas only at provincial halls, major restaurants, or temple fairs.24 Sexual segregation was mandatory even after women were permitted to enter theaters during the final years of the dynasty.25 Some theaters had separate entrances for men and women; men entered the Tianhe Theater, for example, through the front door, but women had to climb stairs and enter through the back door.26 The police effort to sustain sexual segregation in public and safeguard women’s reputations persisted well into the Republican period, when the expansion of public spaces and opportunities for women prompted a new trend in women’s outdoor activities. Police warned that innocent Mu Yumin, Beijing jingcha bainian, 124–132. “Weijing zui zhanxing zhangcheng” [Provisional regulations on the violations of police rules], and “Jingshi weijing zui fuze shisantiao” [Thirteen supplements to the violations of police rules in Beijing], in Qingchao minzhengbu dangan, 1501:107 (9 April 1906). 24  Fubu Yuzhiji, Qingmo Beijing zhi ziliao, 536–537. 25  Liang Guojian, Gudu Beijing shehui xiang, 44; Hou Xisan, Beijing laoxi yuanzi, 45. 26  Shuntian shibao, August 1910. 22  23 

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women might encounter men who would insult them, sex workers, or Westernized girls. Newspapers reported an alarming scenario in which prostitutes and other women dallied with men in parks, at temple fairs, or in other public places and generated scandals.27 In response, the Board of Central Park decided in 1915 not to sell tickets to women at night and invited policemen to patrol every corner of the property.28 The city police reinforced surveillance over public places and punished violators. In one case, Ma Kuiren was censured by an officer, Shi Fengshan, and required to sign a bond of good conduct after chatting with his own wife in the women’s seating area of a theater. The theater manager was fined 4 silver dollars for allowing men and women to mingle.29 To prevent honorable women from being contaminated by amoral women in public was another task of the city police, who asserted that the bizarre behavior and dress codes of prostitutes and actresses set negative examples for decent women. In theaters, the police banned coacting onstage between 1913 and 1928 and punished violators to protect women in the audience from this bad influence. The police required actresses to have their own dressing rooms in theaters and not to play minor roles with men in 1912. All “licentious and superstitious shows” were prohibited, as was obscene behavior in “romantic shows.”30 The police also placed a prohibition on the fashionable clothes pioneered by prostitutes and actresses and fined a number of prostitutes who ignored the regulation.31 When sex workers escorted men around the city, Police Chief Wu Bingxiang notified his subordinates to keep those women away from parks and temples and to forbid them from talking to men on the streets.32 The Ministry of Police even came up with the unique idea of requiring prostitutes to wear identifying marks so that they could be more easily quarantined.33 To identify dangerous women and separate them from decent, vulnerable women was the Police Department’s preferred method of maintaining order in urban public spaces and safeguarding noble womanhood. The police were ambivalent about women’s attending movies. During the late Qing, Manchu elites favored this Western form of entertainment, which fascinated residents throughout the city. The government and elites were convinced that movies, if used correctly, could stimulate commerce

Shuntian shibao, 6 June, 1, 25 July 1914. Shuntian shibao, 10 August 1915. 29  Shuntian shibao, 19 March 1914. 30  Jingshi jingcha ting, “Chongding guanli xiyuan guize”; Yishi baihua bao, 4, 13 May 1918; 31 August 1918. 31  Yishi baihua bao, 8, 19, 20 July 1918; 19 February, 3 March 1920. 32  Yishi baihua bao, 13 December 1919. 33  Shuntian shibao, 14 August 1915. 27  28 

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and promote reforms or other noble causes.34 Thus, the police adopted a restrictive rather than a prohibitive policy toward movies. In 1906, the Board of the Police banned picture shows after dark with the excuse that movie theaters, such as the Sanqingyuan, attracted crowds that were too large and rowdy. The Police Department was concerned about the disruption to the social order that would result if men and women mingled in the dark in the movie theater.35 To defend women’s virtue and safety, the police imposed stringent censorship on feature films depicting romance, sex, and violence. Yet, as movies increasingly captured the imagination of elites and commoners alike, the Qing government’s attitude became more relaxed. The prohibition of movies at night was enforced only in the Inner City, so residents could simply travel to the Outer City to watch films.36 During the early Republican period, both Westerners and Chinese were involved in the movie business in Beijing and opened as many as six cinemas. About three thousand men and women per day citywide watched movies, which were mostly imported from abroad and were actually outlandish and poorly made. In response to popular demand, the police lifted sanctions against movie theaters; owners who paid a 60-dollar tax and 30 dollars a month for police service could be licensed. Location was no longer a problem as several moving-picture theaters were opened in the Inner City.37 As a cultural vehicle, movies introduced Chinese to world events, the geography and cultures of the West, romantic ideals and practices, and various forms of fiction. Beginning in the 1920s, Chinese movies began to rival imported films and represented an increasing segment of the entertainment market. Ordinary urban dwellers preferred movies that reflected Chinese life and stories about romance, mystery, the supernatural, or action, while cultural elites and urban authorities expressed deep anxieties about the consequences of these kinds of stories. In 1919, the Ministries of Education and Finance in Beijing stipulated that movies made by the Shanghai Commercial Press (Shangwu yinshuguan) were subject to special scrutiny: “Those that promote social education and achieve popularity both within the country and abroad, and those that glorify our culture and benefit the prospect of enlightenment, should be encouraged particularly and granted tax exemptions. Yet, those that violate public decency should be confiscated to exemplify the policy of restriction.”38 The regulation of form, content, and related social behaviors in the cinema became a significant part of the Police Department’s duties; in Beijing, in 1921, the departZhengzong aiguo bao, 29 August 1907. Dagong bao, 29 November 1906; Zhengzong aiguo bao, 29 August 1907. 36  Dagong bao, 27 December 1910. 37  Gamble, Peking, 236. 38  Dagong bao, 15 July 1919. 34  35 

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ment promulgated the “Revised Rules on the Movie Cinema” (Xiuding qudi dianyingyuan guize), which stipulated that “it is forbidden that all the projectors and moving pictures are borrowed from foreigners and that licentious, superstitious, or morally offensive movies are shown.” The regulation also banned men and women from sitting together in movie theaters unless they were seated in boxes.39 Management of the city’s new amusement parks presented an even bigger challenge to the Police Department. The South City Amusement Park attracted thousands of tourists daily, and fights, sexual harassment, theft, and similar incidents were frequent. In February 1921, the Police Department closed the park because it was notorious for the mingling of men and women and a building that collapsed there had killed a girl from a wealthy family and injured many more.40 Not even a top official and a parliament member could persuade the police chief to change his mind about this harsh decision.41 Sexual harassment as a growing problem in the 1920s and 1930s further confirmed police assumption that mixing of the sexes was dangerous for women. Newspapermen published reports of men’s harassment of schoolgirls and suggested protection for the daughters of decent families.42 Others collected evidence about ruffians who took advantage of young women at temple fairs, teahouses, or markets, and they used the evidence to reinforce the assumption that women were not safe in open spaces.43 Yet, sexual harassment was a problem for both sexes. Women might be afraid of male offenders or be convinced by the rumors of the danger found in public spaces and hesitate to go out alone or at night, but men who had contact with women willingly or unwillingly could be condemned because of their lack of adherence to the strict rule of gender segregation. The police detained male violators in sexually integrated crowds mainly in defense of feminine virtues and the traditional order rather than to safeguard women’s rights. The definition of sexual harassment was not clear, and the city police often pushed forward cases based solely on suspicion or weak evidence and punished suspects severely. Several male offenders were captured at Dongan Shopping Center, for instance. Yu Jinhu, who chased and teased a young lady there, was labeled 39  Zhonghua minguoshi dangan ziliao huibian [Collected archival materials on the history of Republican China], 3:175, cited in Liu Zhiqin et al., Jindai Zhongguo shehui wenhua bianqian lu, 3:484. 40  Jin Yingyuan and Tian Guangyuan, “Chengnan youyiyuan yu xin shijie” [The South City Amusement Park and the New World], in Shu Yi et al., Yilin cangsang, 292–301; Chenbao, 16 February 1921. 41  Chenbao, 15 April 1921. 42  Yishi baihua bao, 1 March, 7 April 1917. 43  Yishi baihua bao, 15 March 1917; 8 August 1918; 11 August 1919.

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“a thug” and sent to the Correction Center to work for two months.44 Ma Wanyu, Jiang Yonghe, and Zheng Xiang received the same punishment for exposing their genitals or touching women.45 The police were so concerned about the breakdown of public morality that they arrrested innocent men and minor offenders. A young man was detained by a police patrol because he stood beside women at a granary without pants under his long gown. Another man who had squeezed into a female crowd after a play was found guilty and detained for fifteen days because he carried a pair of women’s shoes. Still another man who had flirted with a girl and asked for a decorative flower from her was arrested and condemned for “behaving frivolously in public and damaging decency.”46 The Police Department’s prevention and punishment of sexual conduct was central to its mission of maintaining the city’s social order and moral standards. The police detained male aggressors in public just as they monitored the women who they believed had lost their sense of shame. Compared to the late imperial governments that sustained a Confucian moral order through a balance that both excluded women from and occasionally released women into the larger world, the Republican police upheld sexual segregation in public as the final defense of Chinese civilization. Since the city’s physical and social changes redefined women’s approach to leisure and use of public spaces, the protection of feminine virtues and the concept of gender distinctions in this changing context were considered crucial for the survival of the Chinese cultural identity. To correct young men and young women in public and to hold them apart presented an official attempt to retain Chinese cultural essence in the face of the growing Western presence. 44  “Neizuo yiqu jingchashu guanyu Yu Jinhu tiaoxi funü yian de xiangbing” [Report on the case of Yu Jinhu’s sexual harassment by the Precinct Police Office of the Inner Left First District], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:09745 (8 November 1915). 45  “Zhenjidui guanyu song Ma Wanyu, Jiang Yonghe, he Zheng Xiang sanming tiaoxi funü renfan daodui xunban de han” [Report on the arrival and interrogation of sex offenders Ma Wanyu, Jiang Yonghe, and Zheng Xiang by the detective team], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:05317 (May 1914). 46  “Neizuo siqu jingchashu guanyu Kui Chang shenzhao changshan xiati wuku bijin funü qing geiyu yancheng de xiangcheng” [Request for severely punishing Kui Chang who wore a long gown without having pants and was close to women by the Precinct Police Office of the Inner Left Fourth District], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:13272 (11 August 1916); “Waiyu yiqu jingchashu guanyu Xie Peiyun zai funü qunnei yongji xingwei buduan yian de xiangcheng” [Report on the case of Xie Peiyun who squeezed into a female crowd and behaved inappropriately by the Precinct Police Office of the Outer Right First District], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:14200 (1 January 1916); and “Jingshi zhenjidui guanyu nahuo Sheng Huaxuan yu funü tiaoxiao denshi de cheng” [Report on capturing Sheng Huaxuan who made fun of a woman and did other offences by the Beijing detective team], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:21093 (1 March 1918).

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Protecting Women in Danger Policemen’s ability to detect criminal activity was cultivated at the police academy, which was founded in 1901 and taught mainly by Japanese. Five years later, the academy was taken over and upgraded by the Qing government as the Advanced Police Academy (Gaodeng xunjing xuetang), and such subjects as laws, martial arts, gymnastics, foreign languages, use of equipment, and emergency rescue techniques were taught.47 Students were trained to distinguish good citizens from bad and to pay attention to suspicious behavior on the street. Women with disheveled hair who ran down the street were potential suicides, and people who concealed their faces, were barefooted, who had something hidden in their clothing, or who traveled at night without a lantern, might be law breakers.48 The presence of law enforcement with authority to interrogate anyone on the street intimidated criminals as well as those who might have legitimate reasons to run away from their homes or workplaces. On some occasions, police intervention helped women, but on others, it resulted in harassment, fear, and pressure. For instance, Officer Bai Yushan found a couple seated on the ground and holding a bag inside Qian Gate. He asked them some routine questions, which they answered dishonestly. Skeptical, he took the couple to the station for further interrogation. The man finally confessed that he and the young woman had fallen in love and had married. The woman’s parents opposed the marriage and locked their daughter up at home. The young woman, rebelling against her parents, had stolen some money and clothes and tried to run away with him. The story didn’t move Officer Bai, however, who handed them over to the court for punishment.49 Women who looked nervous or carried items would also invite scrutiny. A young maid who had escaped her abusive master was detained by the police because she wandered alone on the street.50 Two other young women found carrying heavy bags at the train station were runaway servants who had stolen objects from their employers.51 Of course, the police sometimes uncovered criminals, saving women in danger and bringing to justice those who abducted or kidnapped women. Their main incentive was to prevent daughters from honorable families from falling into disgraceful occupations and to reduce urban evils and protect family integrity. Qing and Republican laws both prohibited the kidnapping and trafficking of women and penalized kidnappers, traders, Mu Yumin, Beijing jingcha bainian, 111–113. Strand, Rickshaw Beijing, 83–84. 49  Chenbao, 15 March 1925. 50  Chenzhong bao, 8 September 1918. 51  Chenbao, 23 April 1925. 47  48 

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and brokers.52 The victims were not necessarily from middle- or upperclass families; they could be anyone who was young, alone, or vulnerable on the streets. One example of the police response to the crime of kidnapping women is found in the case of a policeman named Li Songting. One day, Li was patrolling his territory outside the Yongding Gate when he found a couple with heavy luggage waiting to enter the city. The man claimed to be Zhao Bi and the woman, his wife. Yet when Li talked to the woman privately, he was stunned. The woman, named Liu, was a native of Nankou, north of Beijing, and had been abducted and sold to Zhao. Li detained Zhao and also captured two of his accomplices.53 This kind of work earned policemen credibility and trust from female victims. Quan Liuer, a jobless man who lived at the Anding Gate, was involved in the trafficking of women. He deceived and sold for great profit many young women in Tianjin and Dalian. When he bought young Woman Liu from another trafficker and prepared to take her to his client in Tianjin, Liu discovered his conspiracy and tried to call the police at the train station. The panicking Quan promised Liu that he would not sell her, but Liu found a policeman on her way back to Quan’s home and had Quan and several of his collaborators arrested.54 Another case was that of Woman Han, whose neighbor, Hu Xiufeng, abducted her and intended to sell her to a brothel in Zhangjiakou. While Hu went to buy tickets at the Xizhi Gate Train Station Han found Wu Guangjun, the policeman on duty, who immediately rescued her and chased Hu.55 The Police Department imposed various punishments on those who sold and bought women. In March 1914, the police began requiring Beijing households that were training little girls to become opera singers to file reports about the trainees in an effort to find abductees. A few months later, Police Chief Wu Bingxiang ordered his subordinates to investigate the city’s brothels and rescue minors who were bought from traffickers and registered prostitutes who were younger than seventeen.56 The campaign to save women and children also included raids on traffickers’ homes. Newspaper reporters informed the police about the frequent incidents of girls who went missing. Parents panicked when their daughters disappeared from neighborhood streets and alleyways.57 Police efforts 52  Jones, The Great Qing Code, 257–259, 353. Qing law protected the marriage contract and punished one who forcibly abducted another’s wife (or concubine) or daughter to be his own wife or concubine, or who forcibly abducted and sold another’s wife (or concubine) or daughter to a third person as wife or concubine. See Huang, Civil Justice in China, 91–97. 53  Chenbao, 13 November 1925. 54  Chenbao, 25 February 1925. 55  Chenbao, 24 April 1925. 56  Shuntian shibao, 21 March, 21 July 1914. 57  Chenbao, 22 March, 8 April 1925.

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to solve these crimes were thus immediate and powerful. For example, Chief Detective Wang Gui took a team of plainclothes policemen to a compound inhabited by Wang Xinzhai and An Zhucun in April 1925. There, they found three kidnapped girls and business records of the couple’s activities in human trafficking in north China. Because the couple had connections with the local military, they had never before had problems conducting this illicit business.58 Other police detectives were also active and effective. They collected information from local residents and kept a close watch on the suspicious elements in their patrol areas. Detectives Chen Ziming and Zhao Songquan raided the homes of a group of men who abducted girls from famine-ravaged areas in the name of charity, arresting two traffickers and rescuing four girls.59 In 1933, Beijing police rescued 433 women who had been kidnapped or were in danger.60 Men used threats or deception to kidnap women, but sometimes it turned out that both parties consented to the alleged abduction. Women who were abused by their mothers-in-law or who were not satisfied with their marriages would run away with men they loved or trusted. In these cases, the police would return the woman to her husband and arrest her accomplice. Woman Zhang, wife of rickshaw puller Li Changqing, for example, always complained about her husband’s low income and entered into an affair with Li’s friend Liu Lianshun, who arranged her escape by taking her to a third-class brothel. Li searched for his wife in vain then turned to the local police. The detective assigned to the western suburbs found the pair and sent them to court. Li dropped the case against Liu and asked the court to release his wife for his own disciplining. Woman Zhang, however, hated living with her husband and plotted a second escape with Liu. Zhang planned to sell herself to a brothel for 180 yuan, but she disagreed with Liu that Li deserved 80 yuan as compensation. The two ended up fighting on the street. A policeman intervened and sent both Liu and Zhang to the Police Department for punishment.61 Because a wife was considered her husband’s property, the police most often returned runaway women to their husbands. To deal with wifely desertion, policemen, concerned husbands, and sometimes male volunteers established an alliance to defend patriarchal authority. In a typical case, storyteller Xiao Desheng found his runaway wife with the assistance of the police and a volunteer. Xiao’s wife, Woman Wang, frequently argued with her mother-in-law and didn’t perform a wife’s duty sufficiently, according to her family. One day, Woman Wang was found Chenbao, 12 April 1925. Chenbao, 30 April 1926. 60  Beipingshi zhengfu gonganju baogao. 61  Chenbao, 7 November 1925. 58  59 

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missing and her room locked. The next morning, Mr. Man, one of Xiao’s father’s business associates, reported that Woman Wang had been captured, and the kidnappers remained at large. Man claimed that he had come across Wang traveling south on a donkey outside the Yongding Gate, dressed in normal clothes (which suggested a sudden departure) and followed by two men. Man followed the group to the Fengtai Railway Station and called the police when he saw the three trying to buy tickets out of Beijing. The police detained the woman, but her collaborators fled. In the ensuing investigation, the police found that Xiao’s neighbors, rickshaw puller Yang and his wife, were responsible for the “abduction.” The police arrested Yang’s wife and ordered the fugitive Yang to be returned to face justice.62 Protecting women in the family and forbidding the trafficking of women also constituted a policy of the Nationalist Party and government. In 1928, a memorandum from an official in the Party Affairs Guidance Committee (Dangwu zhidao weiyuanhui) to the Bureau of Public Security (Gong’anju) condemned the selling and buying of women as a vicious and illegal business that nevertheless continued to be practiced. The memo demonstrated a strong sympathy for those who were sold as maidservants or child brides and expressed outrage over the abuse of those young girls. This rhetoric highlighted the party’s commitment to economic, educational, and social equality between men and women, denouncing the trading of young women as a violation of the party’s constitution and the spirit of humanitarianism. The document strongly urged that human trafficking be stopped and demanded that women be respected. If the Republican police arrested human traffickers and rescued their victims to safeguard the family institution and keep in check the booming sex industry, the Nationalist Party associated the issue with domestic abuse and inequality and redefined the issue through the angle of women’s rights. The elimination of trafficking in women was a method to end the enslaving of maidservants and child brides and to restore human rights to those who were oppressed. The laws and regulations against trading and enslaving women as maidservants, child brides, prostitutes, and concubines, however, never gained sufficient power under the Nationalist regime to eradicate the practice or to implement gender equality.63

Chenbao, 25 November 1925. Beipingshi zhengfu, “Ling gonganju juzhang Zhao Yikuan he shehuiju juzhang Zhao Zhengping” [Order to the chief of the Bureau of Public Security Zhao Yikuan and the chief of the Social Work Bureau Zhao Zhengping], Shizheng gongbao 3 (September 1928): 107. 62  63 

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Mediating Family Disputes Saving women from abduction was only part of law enforcement’s obligations. Policemen’s primary duties included mediating family disputes, stopping street fights, and apprehending criminals. In this domain, they acted as moral judges and father figures. In minor domestic disputes, they usually left the solution to those involved. They would, however, intervene in arguments that occurred in public or that involved violence. Late Qing policemen attended to women who cried on the streets and showed signs of serious problems at home. While policemen pacified these women to restore public order, they also tried to eliminate the potential for suicide or other fatalities. Policeman Defu, for instance, was suspicious of a young woman who was crying as she walked down the street in 1908. It turned out that the woman had quarreled with her husband and was going to commit suicide. Defu took the woman to the police station and summoned her husband. He advised the couple to have a harmonious life at home and avoid any disputes.64 In another case, Officer Detai came across an old woman crying on the street. She told him that she was a poor widow and intended to commit suicide because her nephew’s wife insulted her and refused to lend her a small amount of money. After comforting her for a long time, Detai gave the woman fifty coppers and hired a rickshaw to take her home.65 The police also broke up fights on the streets. They would stop the fights, interrogate those involved, and offer their moral judgment or advice. If necessary, they would take the responsible parties to the police station for punishment. As noted previously, women’s fights were primarily motivated by domestic conflict and to some extent served as a way of resisting abuse and oppression within the family. These revolts against the family regime sometimes brought the issues involved to the attention of policemen in the public realm. David Strand noted that during the Republican period, Beijing police who patrolled the public realm (gong), where both official (guan) and private (si) affairs surfaced, occasionally confronted private institutions because the self-policed institutions such as households and shops periodically produced disorder that spilled over into the realm of direct police control. Despite a tendency not to get involved in private matters, the police used a heavily moral approach to law enforcement that brought bad behavior by husbands and employers up for scrutiny and punishment.66 Police often ignored family or personal disputes, but they intervened in serious ones that took place in public and produced Beijing nübao, 6 March 1908. Beijing nübao, 20 March 1908. 66  Strand, Rickshaw Beijing, 87–88. 64  65 

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significant consequences. They formed a regime immediately above the family patriarchy and solved issues the family heads failed to settle. Thus, streets became a public court where policemen acted as judges who applied Confucian moral standards as they investigated cases and brought them to closure. The clashing parties defended themselves and tried to win the policemen’s sympathies. When cases were solved and the responsible parties punished, justice was served, and social norms and values prevailed. Even in ambiguous cases, mediation by the police conveyed the intention of maintaining peace and unity within the family and community. Spectators who watched the incidents probably served symbolically as jurors who also absorbed this lesson. The police settled family disputes based on their beliefs in social norms and traditional values; they did little to improve social institutions, seeking instead to preserve the status quo. For instance, policemen mediated conflicts between wives and concubines on behalf of their husbands rather than took actions against the men who married concubines. In one case, a married man, Fang Yunting, spent 2,000 yuan to purchase a prostitute named Wang Guixuan as his concubine. Wang and Fang’s wife, Woman Li, could not get along and quarreled every day. When Fang tried to send Li and his son away to his hometown, Li initiated a fight with Wang. Officer Hu Yitang separated the women, but neither side listened as he attempted to mediate their dispute. He took the women to the precinct station, where his superior officer tried to persuade the two women to drop their grievances. Still, Li demanded that Fang divorce Wang, and Wang asked the officers to punish Li for injuring her. When mediation failed, the police officer sent the women to court for a settlement.67 In this case, the police said nothing against Fang’s marrying concubine Wang; instead, they mainly devoted their time to making peace between the two women. Policemen usually recognized a husband’s authority over his wife and treated wife battering or other abuse as a domestic problem. They persuaded wives to stay with their abusive husbands rather than take action for self-preservation; charges against husbands were filed only when the outcomes were tragic or nearly so. For example, factory worker Ren Jingxin married Wang Xiaofeng through his sister’s matchmaking efforts. Ren never shared his income with Wang and spent most of his nights away from home. Wang didn’t complain, however, and earned a living doing laundry for other families. Ren tried to sell Wang to another man, and he beat her brutally when she refused. The police came across Wang wandering the streets one night after Ren expelled her from their home. A policeman filed a report on this abuse, but the department decided to 67 

Chenbao, 12 May 1925.

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deliver Wang back to her husband, who eventually stabbed Wang with a spear when she again refused to marry another man. A neighbor brought in the police to save Wang’s life. Only then did the police detain Ren and officially interrogate the couple.68 The moral education of the city’s residents was always the mission of the police and other local officials. During the Qing era, censors assembled citizens twice a month in public halls for lectures on the principles of serving parents and in-laws, respecting elders, having harmonious relations with neighbors, educating children, fulfilling job duties, and observing laws.69 This tradition ended during the Republican period, yet the police still sought to educate residents through their methods of advising, mediating, regulating, and punishing. To them, each case was an opportunity to publicly reinforce social rules and encourage moral behavior. Although the police often refused to punish abusive men, they were not as lenient with rebellious women. One case, for example, involved a wife named Wan who was notoriously critical of her husband, a street vendor named Xi Langhe. One day Xi could bear this treatment no longer and said something to Wan, who hit him in the head with a teapot. Neighbors reported Xi’s injury to a patrolling policeman. Wan, afraid of the consequences, injured herself in the head to create evidence of her husband’s brutality. Policemen accompanied the couple to a local hospital and then to the police station. The precinct head interrogated the couple and concluded that “Woman Wan is vicious and tough. She hurts her husband and cuts her own head to falsely blame Mr. Xi. This behavior is extremely hateful.” He made this case a warning to those who didn’t obey their husbands and sent Wan to court for punishment.70 Prohibiting and Controlling Dangerous Women The police intervened with housewives only when their violent behavior spilled from the domestic domain onto the streets. Other women—those who lived on the streets, practiced magic, worked outside the home, or were prostitutes—were considered generally dangerous. They didn’t perform the roles that society assigned, and they affected others in public spaces through their heretical, antifamily, or unfeminine behavior. They threatened the ideal of Confucian womanhood and social order, so the police sought to prohibit or at least restrain their behavior. “Grannies” were the first to arouse suspicion and hatred. During the Republican period, they were charged with crimes including deception, fraud, spreading superstition, and hindering social improvement. Chenbao, 21 November 1925. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 2:342. 70  Chenbao, 20 November 1925. 68  69 

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The police outlawed fortune-tellers and witch doctors in 1906, because they “deceive people for profits,” and either detained or fined violators.71 The Republican police continued and strengthened this prohibition in the 1910s and 1920s, and newspapers had many reports of police raids on violators’ homes.72 Among the six categories of grannies, midwives were the sole group to be rehabilitated and integrated into modern urban society. In 1905, the Police Department set up a health office to handle matters of sanitation, disease prevention, food control, and slaughterhouse inspections. The next year, hospitals were opened in the Inner City and Outer City, and a health association to study Western medicine was founded under the office of Shuntian Prefecture and the gendarmeries. The Health Office was restructured in 1913 to come under the control of the Beijing Police Department. The city began to establish medical districts with a network of hospitals, clinics, and domestic-care resources under the supervision of the Health Office beginning in 1925. The Nationalist Party and government continued the medical reform in the city and targeted midwives as a barrier to nation building. In their eyes, midwives were ambiguous, as their profession was both a source of women’s employment and a threat to national health. The Ministry of Police, which regulated midwives and drafted guidelines for child delivery, set as a priority the removal of traditional midwives by the municipal government. The ministry attacked midwives for “not having scientific knowledge and not understanding the significance of disinfection,” which caused the sickness and deaths of mothers and babies. The municipal government distributed in 1928 a booklet that the ministry compiled titled “Midwives Must Know” (“Jieshengpuo xuzhi”), which included the regulation, guidelines, and form for a required monthly report. Regarding the notice, Mayor He Qixun said that “midwives’ occupation involves people’s lives, and their abuses cannot cease unless midwives receive correct knowledge,” and he urged the Bureau of Public Safety and the Health Bureau to carry out the policy.73 In 1928 the Health Office became the Health Bureau and took over the health matters controlled by the civil government and police. The health of women and children was the bureau’s priority, and doctors and nurses trained in Western medicine began to replace midwives in the provision of care during and after pregnancy. Midwives were thought unqualified: only a handful of the 184 midwives registered with the police in 1917 had any training in modern obstetrical methods, which was thought to be a reason “Weijing zui zhanxing zhangcheng.” Chenbao, 13 November 1925; 16 January, 18 May 1926. 73  “Beiping tebieshi zhengfu xunling” [Instructions of the government of the Beiping Special Municipality], Shizheng gongbao 2 (August 1928): 142–143. 71  72 

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why 325 women, or one for every twenty-nine births, died in childbirth that year.74 Only twenty-two of the 184 midwives were younger than fortysix years old, and six were older than eighty. The situation put pressure on the municipal government, which opened a two-month training program for practicing midwives in 1928. Students had to register and pass a background check before enrolling. They were licensed by the Health Bureau upon graduation and monitored by doctors and nurses in their first five cases. They had to buy medical supplies from the Infant Affairs Institute (Baoying shiwusuo) and report their cases to the institute every month.75 In contrast to midwifery, prostitution was not only retained but was legalized. Whereas the legal codes from the Yuan through the Qing dynasties never defined clearly whether prostitution was legal or illegal, in practice officials treated prostitution as illegal, at least among commoner women, not because women sold their bodies, but because “illicit sexual intercourse” threatened the morality and structure essential to social order.76 The first Republican legal code promulgated in 1912 largely updated the legal code of the Qing. It regulated prostitution and prevented public disorder, immorality, the disruption of marriage and the family, physical abuse, illegal procurement of goods, and the exploitation of girls in the guise of adoption. Several statutes prohibited soliciting, procuring, and supplying positions for prostitutes, visiting clandestine prostitutes, singing lewd songs, exhibiting lascivious behavior in public, and remaining in teahouses for hours.77 Still, prostitution was tolerated in the last decade of the Qing dynasty and boomed after the Revolution of 1911. Republican Beijing authorities, like their imperial predecessors, regarded sex workers as a threat to female virtue and modern urban reform. The media portrayed prostitutes as fallen women, pitiful yet dangerously tempting to innocent men and women, a portrayal that provided a rationale for the police to observe, regulate, and rescue prostitutes. Although local authorities permitted prostitution as a way to entertain men or pacify those who were single or separated from their wives, they contained its expansion, interfered with its operation, and reduced the flow of “decent” women into the trade. On the one hand, authorities licensed and taxed brothels as legal businesses. On the other hand, they regulated their size, location, management, sanitation, employment, and selection of prostitutes. Gamble, Peking, 119. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:207–315; Yang Nianqun, “Minguo chunian Beijing de shengsi kongzhi yu kongjian zhuanhuan,” in Yang Nianqun, Kongjian, jiyi, shehui zhuanxing, 131–207. 76  Sommer, Sex, Law, and Society in Late Imperial China, 303. 77  Legal Department of the Shanghai Municipal Council, The Chinese Criminal Code and Special Criminal and Administrative Laws, 81–84, 162–166, 173–174. 74  75 

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The late Qing police adopted a policy called “prohibition through taxation” (yujin yuzheng) and began to register brothels. Brothel managers who paid taxes were licensed and thus received police protection. Because upper-class prostitutes wore expensive jewelry and were vulnerable to robbery, they acquired a sense of security through their cooperation with the police.78 In 1906, however, the Police Department issued additional, onerous regulations. All houses had to be situated in certain areas. Brothels that were taxed and numbered had to apply for permission before they made any changes to the house or moved. They had to submit reports to the police regarding new recruits or prostitutes who left the house. They were required to register their employees and provide detailed information about them. Brothels were subject to frequent inspections. Managers were required to control their expenses and to inform the police when suspicious people or people with guns were present. Prostitutes were barred from escaping, flirting with pedestrians outside the front gate, or receiving clients when they were sick. Brothel managers who forced girls into the trade or who abused girls were subject to heavy penalties if they were reported. Brothels were to be kept clean.79 Officially sanctioned prostitution was further built up after the Revolution of 1911, when the Republican government set districts aside for these businesses and collected taxes from both brothels and prostitutes. A special office was established for the registration of brothels and prostitutes, and the late Qing regulations were basically adopted by the Republican police as the basis for the new rules. The regulations were kept regarding licensing, employees, changes to business, customers, crime, and abuse, and new ones were added. For example, no one who had been in jail was allowed to be a brothel manager, and brothels were not allowed to have windows or porches facing the street or to be highly decorated. Another regulation stipulated that managers could not keep prostitutes from leaving, either to go to another house or to quit the business. Still another required prostitutes to register with the police, giving their names, ages, and hometowns, plus a photograph. Violations were punishable by fines of five to ten dollars or imprisonment of five to ten days. 80 In spite of the government’s relative tolerance of prostitution, these rules implied that the government, although unable to eliminate the sex trade, at least attempted to control and reform it into a well-organized service institution.

Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” “Xunjingbu liding weisheng jingzha jiancha yuehu guize” [Regulations on the sanitary police’s monitoring of musician households approved by the Board of Police], in Qingchao minzhengbu dangan, 1501:229. 80  Gamble, Peking, 248–249. 78  79 

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The government’s effort to reduce the effect of the sex trade on the urban population was epitomized by its plan in 1918 to segregate brothels from residential areas or other businesses. The government sponsored a project to build and keep under strict surveillance a number of facilities for prostitutes in the Outer City near Tianqiao. Brothel managers refused to move to the new site, which was a distance from the business and hotel districts. Officials backed this refusal because of their own investments in the sex trade. The Police Department was forced to abandon the plan and rent the new buildings to other commercial interests.81 Municipal officials considered prostitutes dangerous not just because they were morally corrupt but also because they spread venereal diseases; for this reason, women were required to undergo medical examinations. Police Chief Chen Xingya opened a clinic called the Office for the Examination of Prostitutes in February 1927 and required registered prostitutes to be tested for venereal diseases every month. The exams, however, were not free, and a fee was collected according to the patient’s class of brothel. In 1928, the Health Bureau took charge of the clinic and increased the examination fees.82 The regulation of prostitution was part of the state’s larger effort to control urban life that began in the late Qing. Prostitution in many aspects ran counter to the ideas of modern reforms, but political corruption and instability, poverty, the imperialist presence, traditional cultural practices, and many other factors that supported the sex industry were fundamental problems that the police were unable to overcome. Many of the rules were paper only; violators could always find ways around them. Sidney Gamble doubted that the rules truly protected prostitutes’ freedom and rights. He especially questioned the regulation against selling or forcing women into prostitution. According to his observation, a lot of girls were sold to brothels against their will, and the trafficking of women was not effectively punished. Poor economic conditions and a lack of public opinion against the matter created an environment in which girls either entered prostitution with the knowledge and consent of their families or were forcibly carried off.83 Aside from regulating registered brothels and prostitutes, the police devoted tremendous time and energy to the prohibition of the huge number of unregistered prostitutes who reduced the government’s tax revenues and disrupted the public order. Thus, the Republican police enacted a regulation in 1915 to punish first-time offenders and register repeat violators

Gamble, Peking, 247–248. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 2:310–312; Dong, Republican Beijing, 233. 83  Gamble, Peking, 249. 81  82 

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as tax-paying prostitutes.84 The police, especially concerned that private prostitutes induced decent women to enter the sex business, ordered district officers to investigate any suspicious women.85 The police usually treated upper-class brothels with leniency. Courtesans and their brothel managers were well connected and could file grievances against policemen with powerful politicians. Some courtesans married important people as concubines and sought revenge on policemen for their abuses. Yet, most brothels developed harmonious relationships with the local police because they were convinced by the ancient belief “not to be afraid of the bureaucrat, only of the controller [of your life]” (bupaguan, zhipaguan). This attitude encouraged the police to become corrupt through extortion, bribery, and other illegal activities. For instance, the head of the precinct station that presided over the second district of the Outer City was wealthy. Most of the city’s first- and second-class brothels were in that district, and the police collected various taxes and contributions from the brothels there. Changes to the registration card, which was hung on the front door of the house, cost a small fortune, but the price for a ticket to a charity show the police set could be as high as 100 yuan. The police officers who patrolled the ninth area of the district regarded the first-class brothels there as their own, asking the brothel managers to buy coal for their homes during the winter or to send tea to their office. On holidays they would receive a percentage of the winnings from the mah-jongg games courtesans played. They also sent sex workers to a designated photo shop to buy more expensive products for their mandatory registration photos and then squeezed a fee from the shop manager. All those extra costs, however, were justified in part by police intervention when troublemakers disturbed business, drunks broke objects and beat girls, and disputes between sex workers and their clients erupted. The police often dispatched patrols to arrest troublemakers and help brothels get back to normal business.86 Plainclothes policemen kept a watchful eye for ruffians who took advantage of prostitutes and disturbed other customers.87 The police intervened quickly when soldiers tried to compel prostitutes to marry them, local strongmen bullied girls and refused to pay for services rendered, creditors interrupted business, or fights broke out.88 Brothel managers willingly sacrificed some profits to build a partnership with this authority. One brothel manager, who appreciated police inShuntian shibao, 31 May 1915. Chenzhong bao, 10 October 1916. 86  Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 87  Shuntian shibao, 8 April 1914. 88  Shuntian shibao, 1 July 1914; Chenzhong bao, 29 July 1918; Chenbao, 14 April 1920; 17 January, 1 March, 12, 16 July, 4, 23 November, 24 December 1925; 23 February, 8 July, 6 September 1926. 84  85 

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tervention during a mugging, once said that “since the police came into being, prostitutes pay taxes and receive protection from the policemen. They are not afraid of being kidnapped anymore.”89 The police regarded prostitutes as dangerous because they sold their bodies to men and threatened public order, morality, and health. Their existence reflected poorly on the modern city and became a mockery of the police’s functions, but these very prostitutes were also necessary and beneficial. They comforted unstable and frustrated men, thus reducing the number of sex crimes. They generated handsome revenues for the city. What is more, their tenacity made police work more important and meaningful. Prostitution helped the police legitimize their accomplishments and rewards. The Nationalist Party and government perpetuated the restrictive policy toward sex workers and institutionalized the management of brothels in the city. The Bureau of Public Security condemned prostitution as a symbol of the country’s backwardness and weakness and tried to enforce the restrictive rules with even more power. Prostitutes who were under sixteen, were at least five-months pregnant, or had venereal diseases were not allowed to service guests. Sex workers were not allowed to wear outlandish clothes in public or to seduce pedestrians. They were encouraged to report cases in which brothel managers obstructed their decisions to marry or go to the Door of Hope, extorted money or gifts from them, refused to let them change brothels, or used them as collateral for loans.90 Meanwhile, the Health Bureau’s investigation of the Office for the Examination of Prostitutes revealed an organization “that exists in name only” and was rife with negligence and bribery. The bureau dissolved the office and used examination as a way to prevent the infliction of venereal disease on customers and to treat infected prostitutes.91 The bureau requested permission from the municipality to retain the revenue from the physical examinations and spend it on additional equipment and health care for prostitutes.92 Bureau Chief Huang Zifang received approval from the municipal government to change the name to the Office for the Examination and Treatment of Prostitutes (Jinü jianzhi shiwusuo) and implemented a new regulation on the monitoring of prostitutes.93 The regulation of sex workers presented a dilemma to the Nationalist government. Prostitution was seen as a scourge of the modern city that humiliated the new ruler and generated problems for the nation. Yet, the sex industry provided a livelihood for thousands of lower-class women Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” Mai Qianzeng, “Beiping changji diaocha,” 105–146. 91  “Ling weishengju juzhang Huang Zifang” [Order to the chief of the Health Bureau, Huang Zifang], Shizheng gongbao 3 (September 1928): 84. 92  “Ling weishengju juzhang Huang Zifang,” 134–135. 93  “Ling weishengju juzhang Huang Zifang,” 230. 89  90 

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and their families and was in high demand by male elites. The Nationalist force had to compromise by settling for a reduction in the size of the sex trade. The restriction of women entering the trade, the programs intended to rescue prostitutes, the physical exams required of prostitutes, and the mandated licenses and taxation constituted a conflicted policy toward the sex business that survived under the new regime and served as a parameter for the government’s social campaigns. Saving Destitute Women Poverty, endemic and devastating in early twentieth-century Beijing, was an enormous burden for the government. Because poverty was thought to be the root of crime and social disorder, the government, the police force, and local elites mobilized to develop philanthropic institutions to pacify the urban poor. Yet, these nineteenth- and twentieth-century charitable institutions faced pressures that were much different from those found previously. The imperial court during the Ming and most of the Qing provided temporary relief for refugees from disaster-ridden regions around Beijing and sent them back home when the bad times were over. Poverty in the city was not as serious as that which surfaced later, despite the tremendous subsidies and other forms of relief given to the banner soldiers whose families suffered from inflation and budget deficits. During the late Qing and early Republican periods, however, urban poverty became entrenched and permanent, with a large percentage of the population dependent on charities. Privatization became a new trend in philanthropy as officials and gentry members took over responsibilities from the government. Charitable institutions also became more gender-specific as the government and elites established programs to provide job training and rehabilitation for destitute or criminal women with the ultimate goal of returning them to the family and preventing them from becoming beggars or prostitutes. Officials believed that even the most troubled women could be transformed into decent wives and mothers. Toward this goal, the government and members of the elite community provided women with shelter, food, job training, and employment opportunities. Philanthropy was thus implemented not as a passive method to save individual lives but rather as a deliberate social mechanism to transform problematic women. During the Ming dynasty, the state oversaw most of the city’s public works. The government maintained roads, bridges, and waterways, monitored fire patrols, organized militia units, and sponsored grain tributes. The gentry class was only minimally engaged in this effort; eunuchs, officials, and nobility who kept close connections to the court

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donated land and money for cemeteries for the poor and for temples.94 The Qing court, having inherited the Ming notion of state control, undertook the bulk of charitable responsibilities and offered rice, money, medicine, clothes, and shelter to refugees from surrounding provinces and to the city’s poor banner families. The government dictated the price of grain and the amount of tax and labor; offered extra supplies to bannermen; and established granaries, refugee homes, water stations, orphanages, and workshops to help the needy and maintain social order.95 Yet starting in the middle of the Qing, local elites became increasingly engaged in charity and began to establish their own institutions or cosponsor them with the government. Susan Naquin has argued that both the millennium rebellion and epidemics during the middle of the nineteenth century led to the transformation of some officially sponsored institutions in Beijing into a range of public services controlled by elite groups. The state permitted and even encouraged this trend.96 Angela Leung, associating the emergence of homes for widows with the increasing number of abductions of young widows for sale as brides or concubines in late eighteenth-century Jiangnan, contended that widows’ homes were actually the elites’ responses to the rise in urban violence and their increasing commoditization of women.97 To confront economic and social crises, bureaucrats, gentry members, and temple leaders contributed their money, time, and ideas to the relief cause and built a network of charitable institutions in Beijing hand in hand with the government. By the Guangxu reign, there were ten dining halls (fanchang), twenty-nine porridge stations (zhouchang), four heated shelters (nuanchang), six charity halls (shantang), four orphanages, two burial services, five refugee homes (jiliusuo), fifteen fire stations (shuihui), one smallpox center, and a workshop.98 These were government agencies, joint ventures between the government and local elites, or gentrysponsored facilities. Charitable institutions in late Qing Beijing provided emergency support intended to prevent women from resorting to begging. In 1877 or 1878, a group of local gentry men founded the Hall of Universal Benevolence (Guangrentang) based on the Tianjin model to house refugees from Hebei, Henan, and Shanxi. Local bureaucrats praised the institute as a solution to the poverty and theft that had become epidemic in north China and argued that the moral education and job training it offered Wakeland, “Metropolitan Administration in Ming China,” 290–299. Wang Canzhi, Yandu guji kao, 356. 96  Naquin, Peking, 622–678. 97  Leung, “To Chasten Society.” 98  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:103–126. 94  95 

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could convert the destitute into loyal and virtuous citizens and productive workers. The institute took in women, children, and people with no families. It funded the Revering Chastity Society (Jingjiehui), which accepted young widows who came from decent families and who were determined to remain unmarried after their husbands’ deaths. The institute provided monthly stipends to the society members and their dependent parents-in-law and children. The institute also offered support for pregnant women and financial aid to poor mothers and their newborns. In addition, the institute established a weaving department in 1882 and hired an experienced instructor to teach women how to make clothing.99 Another elite-run charity that offered poor women work opportunities was the Beijing General Charity Organization (Beijing hengshan zongshe). It was founded by Chen Liang, a reform-oriented industrialist, in Tianjin in 1911, with a telegraph institute, a factory in which poor people could work, and a burial service for the destitute. In that same year, Chen established his charity headquarters in Beijing and set up branches in Shanghai, Fuzhou, and Hankou. His organization expanded during the Republican years to include schools, hospitals, homes for widows, and at least four handicraft workshops for poor women. He considered his efforts a means of preserving women’s virtue; he also offered a monthly stipend to chaste widows and reported on loyal daughters and chaste widows to the government so that they could get rewards. Chen also managed funds from other donors. Although he exhausted his own resources, he was held in such high esteem by the government and elite society that he was elected chairman of the board of the city’s Bureau of Social Work.100 The city police shared the elites’ moral underpinnings. Natong, head of the Repair and Patrol Bureau, proposed in 1905 the founding of the Capital Skill-Learning Institute (Jingshi xiyisuo) as a charitable institute to shelter the homeless and reform minor offenders. The Board of the Police took over the institute the next year and stressed the goals of “penalizing offenders with forced labor” and “teaching skills to destitute beggars.” The purpose of the reform was to “cultivate remorseful and ethical minds” and to “open roads toward jobs and livelihoods.” The institute owned an office, lecture hall, jail, workshop, and dormitory for the poor, and it enrolled hundreds of criminals, beggars, and street paupers in vocational training sessions.101 Similarly, the Reformist Bureau (Jiaoyangju) was established to take in the poor and prostitutes.

Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:114–119. Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:175–178. 101  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, minzhengzhi, 2:114, 115, 117, 130–132. 99 

100 

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If these late Qing establishments took the beginning step in a larger social-control movement, then the growing institutionalization and specialization of charity in the Republican era was an intensification of this process. Beginning in 1912, charitable facilities for women were distinguished from more general efforts, and the rescuing of street women became a priority of the municipal government and the city’s elite community. Living conditions for the urban poor had worsened since the late Qing, and women, who were more vulnerable than men, desperately needed institutional charity. Charitable organizations thus did not act merely to revive the Confucian ideal of social welfare; they were more likely responding to new urban problems and probably also in competition with the growing number of foreign missionaries involved in women’s charity.102 The city of Beijing founded the Goodwill Women’s Home (Chongshan nü yangjiyuan), the Universal Benevolence Female Workshop (Puci nü gongchang), and other establishments to provide needy women with housing, food, health care, and job training.103 Affiliated with the Police Department were three women’s institutions. The Door of Hope, founded in 1906, was a haven for rescued or escaped prostitutes between the ages of sixteen and thirty. The Women’s Industrial Home (Nü xiyisuo) was a training workshop for young women and girls rescued by the police from kidnappers, the homes of opium smokers, or impoverished families. Those who violated moral norms or those who disobeyed their husbands or seniors could also be sent to the institutions for rehabilitation. The Women’s Reformatory (Ganhuasuo), however, was a prison. In 1919, there were 276 women in these three facilities. Women in the Door of Hope and the Industrial Home lived in relatively sanitary conditions and received better treatment than the prisoners in the reformatory, who lived in squalor. Women in the first two institutions had to stay until they were married, whereas inmates were freed as soon as they had served their sentences.104 The Women’s Industrial Home was not merely a philanthropic establishment but also a rehabilitation center that best exemplified a combined effort by family patriarchs and the city police to correct women’s wrongdoings and put them back into the family system. Wives and concubines 102  Foreign women in Beijing founded the Old Ladies’ Home in 1895. Mrs. Conger, the wife of an American minister, later enlarged the institute by raising funds in the United States. The board of directors was made up of Western women; the annual expenditures were $1,300 to $1,400. Only those who were at least sixty years old and lacked family support were admitted. The institute was regarded as a model by elite Chinese women in the city who established a similar home for elderly women by the means of a benefit theatrical performance and private subscription. See Gamble, Peking, 300–302. 103  Wu Tingxie, Beijingshi zhigao, 2:132–133. 104  Gamble, Peking, 260–262.

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who didn’t conform to the tenets of womanhood and young women who argued with their masters or didn’t work hard could be delivered by their household heads to the institution as a way of punishment and reform. In such cases, the police usually supported family patriarchs and ignored the women involved. Yu Haiquan, for instance, deserted his concubine, Woman Wang. When Wang returned home to ask for money to treat an illness, Yu scolded her for disturbing his family and sent her to the Women’s Industrial Home for a month of confinement and a marriage arranged by the institution.105 Another man, Zhao Wenquan, condemned his concubine Woman Kang for recruiting disreputable men and women to gamble at his home and asked the police to put Kang into the Women’s Industrial Home. The police sided with Zhao and approved a three-month discipline session in the institution.106 Yan Zefu criticized maid Hong Yan for her tendency “to quarrel with others, steal, and behave badly” and sent her to the Industrial Home. For her part, Hong told the police that, when her mistress beat her, she didn’t argue or disobey. The police officer, however, ignored the abuse and agreed to admit Hong to the institution.107 Affiliated with the Police Department, the Women’s Industrial Home took over the authority for punishment and education from family heads and attempted to rehabilitate women through forced work. Though the institution offered job training, it required its workers to obey strict rules and work long hours. Its high demands and abusive management drove some women to run away. Yet, the only alternative for most inmates was either returning to their families after a period of rehabilitation or marrying a stranger through the arrangement of the manager.108 105  “Jingshi jingchating neiyou yiqu biaosong Yu Haiquan qian yizi Yu Liangchen chengkong yiqie Wang Wangshi buan yushi qingsong funü xigongchang lingxing zepei yian” [Report on Yu Liangchen’s accusation of his father Yu Haiquan’s concubine Woman Wang’s misconduct and his request for sending Wang to the Women’s Industrial Home for an arranged marriage by the Inner Right First District of the Beijing Police], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:14777 (27 February 1924). 106  “Zhao Wenquan guanyu ciqie Kangshi bushou jiagui qingfa funü xigongchang guansu de cheng” [Request for sending Concubine Kang to the Women’s Industrial Home for control because of her violation of the family rule by Zhao Wenquan], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:18:20723 (1 September 1927). 107  “Jingshi jingchating guanyu shoudao Yan Zefu wei peinü Hong Yan xingqing elue song funü xigongchang xiyi de cheng” [Report on receiving the request for sending Maid Hong Yan to the Women’s Industrial Home because of her bad character by Yan Zefu], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:32501 (July 1924). 108  “Jingshi jingchating zhenjidui guanyu diaocha funü xiyi gongchang guanliyuan Zhang Wenhao lieji de han” [Report on the investigation of Manager Zhang Wenhao’s misconduct in the Women’s Industrial Home by the Beijing Police Department], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:18:22079 (1 September 1920); “Funü xigongchang xunwen changnü Li Xiaomao qingyuan xiangcong Wen Beian weiqie de xianghan” [Detailed report on the

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The Women’s Industrial Home was established for women from decent households, whereas the Door of Hope was a refuge for sex workers. Women who were forced into prostitution, mistreated by brothel managers, or desired to leave but had no other place to go or relatives to depend on could apply for admission to the Door of Hope by letting a policeman know or by going to the facility in person. Their requests were reviewed by the police or the court. Because vacancies were limited, at least half the applicants were placed on a waiting list. Like the Women’s Industrial Home, the Door of Hope was intended to transform problematic women into virtuous and skillful wives. Residents, supervised by female directors, were involved in education and industrial work. They spent six hours a day in classes on Chinese, morality, arithmetic, art, cooking, drawing, and music. The products they made were sold to cover program costs, and the surplus profits were divided among them. The desired final outcome was marriage, either as wife or concubine; those who could be absorbed into families would no longer be a public burden. Pictures of the women were displayed for visitors and passersby, and any man interested in marriage with one of the women had to fill out an application with his name, age, address, profession, and three references; he also had to donate between 10 and 200 yuan. If the potential bride approved and the applicant passed a background check by the police, a marriage certificate was issued, and the woman was taken to the man’s home.109 This matchmaking function of the police was illustrated by the advertisements published in local newspapers. In general, these women were considered reformed and at least deserving of becoming concubines. Girls in the Industrial Home were “decent women” and were married off to select men only as wives.110 The rehabilitation and education of women was forcefully carried out, and a segregating policy was adopted by all three charitable institutions. The police safeguarded the reputations of residents at the Door of Hope and permitted only those whose interest in marriage was genuine to meet their chosen women. Gamble commented that, based on his observations of the shame-faced inmates, the large number of police guards, and the Women’s Industrial Home that consulted female worker Li Xiaomao about marrying Wen Beian as a concubine], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:19:13683 (1 June 1916); and “Funü xigongchang guanyu changnü Kuang Xiaohuan Wang Yueshi erkou you cesuo qiantao qing yanji decheng” [Paper on wanted factory women Kuang Xiaohuan and Wang Yueshi who have escaped from the restroom], in “Beipingshi jingchaju dangan,” J 181:18:19228 (3 November 1926). 109  Gamble, Peking, 260–262; Chenzhong bao, 2 April, 19 August 1918; and Chenbao, 11 May 1921. 110  Chenzhong bao, 3 August, 22 September 1918; Chenbao, 10 January 1919; 18 October 1920.

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general character of the superintendents, “much could probably be done to humanize this so-called home.”111 Zhang Wenjun, an insider in the world of Beijing prostitution, verified that the Door of Hope was actually a confinement center for prostitutes who were forced to obey their supervisors and work more than ten hours each day. Inmates learned weaving and embroidery skills, but the profits they made through selling their products went solely to the institution. The miserable conditions caused by forced labor, physical abuse, and starvation led the women there to lament that they had “escaped from the bitter sea, but jumped into a fire pit.”112 The interactions between women and the police in late Qing and early Republican Beijing confirmed the state’s growing infiltration and control of society. Urban reforms not only created a police force, but also generated new guidelines, regulations, and laws. How the police addressed women’s issues illustrated the state’s intention to preserve traditional femininity as the foundation of cultural transformation. Yet, these actions were also a response and accommodation to the economic and social crises that affected urban women’s lives and values. Women’s growing presence in the public arena—the place where they earned a living, were entertained, or brought their personal problems into public view—symbolized the alteration of women’s roles and status in the society. Women in public were seen as diverse and conflicted, and their categorization into the dangerous and the endangered were subjective and relational, reflecting the prevailing opinions of male elites and the state. Women’s public visibility and related issues became part of the city’s agenda and had a profound influence on governmental policy making. Before the middle of the Qing, the gendarmerie’s priorities were political security and maintaining the public order; police had little interest in individual justice and the protection of private property.113 This attitude changed by the late Qing and early Republican periods as policemen became more intrusive in urban neighborhoods and more concerned about women’s conduct and safety. Women’s issues were not treated as individual or family matters but as fundamental to maintaining public order. The nationalist patriarchy was solidified through the protection of women’s domestic virtues and domestic spheres, through differentiation of socially constructed gender spheres, and through attempts to rescue poor, amoral, or endangered women who escaped into or were lost in these urban public spaces. The vices of gambling, opium smoking, and prostitution that had always corrupted bureaucrats and bannermen persisted, yet the Gamble, Peking, 262–263. Zhang Wenjun, “Beijing qingying xiaoban de xingxing sese.” 113  Dray-Novey, “Policing Imperial Peking,” 361. 111  112 

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police devoted more energy and time to the economic and social crisis that disrupted the private realm and challenged women’s roles. Beijing, like many other places around the world, experienced the rise of a more regulative state in the modern era. Despite the lack of a stable central government during the era of warlords, authorities experimented with reform projects to transform the city. The regulation of women’s lives was part of the urban reform movement that continued under the rule of the incoming Nationalist government.

Conclusion

In 1928, the Nationalist Party unified China and extended its control to the Republican capital, which was renamed the Beiping Special Municipality (Beiping tebieshi). The Nationalist Party and government endorsed the women’s emancipation movement but guided it with a mixed ideology of modernization and Confucianism. The party supported women’s rights while stressing women’s domestic responsibilities and social hierarchies.1 The new municipal authorities emphasized the transformation of popular culture as an indispensable component of the revolutionary cause and encouraged citizens to discard concepts and rituals associated with the imperial past. Women’s foot binding, men’s queue wearing, and opium smoking were prohibited for being “injurious to health and undermining of the race.”2 Meanwhile, women’s home industriousness and equal employment opportunities were highlighted to promote production and consumption. The city government tightened its regulation of prostitution and attempted to transform midwives into medical workers. To cultivate women’s new character and morality, the Nationalist police force intensified the surveillance of women in public spaces and imposed strict censorship on plays and movies. The party and government also protected women in the family and forbade the trafficking of women. Party members reorganized charitable institutions as a way to build a modern city and made the rescue of problematic women a priority.3 In addition to urban reforms through which the Nationalist Party carried out its guideline of women’s enhancement, the party attempted to mobilize working-class women for the revolution. The party used middle-class women’s societies as an instrument for indoctrinating them with a nationalist ideology and Fan, Footbinding, Feminism, and Freedom, 225–254. “Beiping tebieshi shehuiju diyici xuanyan” [The first declaration of the Social Bureau in the Beiping Special Municipality], Shizheng gongbao 2 (August 1928): 276–277; “Bugao” [Poster], Shizheng gongbao 4 (October 1928): 283. 3  “Beiping tebieshi shehuiju xunling” [Instruction of the municipal government of the Beiping Special Municipality], Shizheng gongbao 4 (October 1928): 312–313. 1  2 

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registering working-class women. The best example of the party’s control of lower-class women was the establishment of the Beiping Special Municipality Women’s Association (Beiping tebieshi funü xiehui), founded on 15 September 1928 to propagate the Three Principles of the People and to investigate the living and working conditions of poor women. Aligned with the police, the association founded schools, workshops, and an asylum to help impoverished women, and it also rescued prostitutes, maidservants, and other female victims of abuse. Through the early 1930s, the party and administration successfully unified women’s groups in the city and infiltrated lower-class women’s lives with nationalist concepts and a moderate emancipation agenda.4 Working-class women might have been able to continue their everyday practices, but they had to obey the new rules in public spaces and accept the fact that their livelihood, entertainment, and daily rituals were now subject to the nationalist discourse and governmental regulations in this new revolutionary era. The period covered in this book ends with the Nationalist reunification of China in 1928. As noted in previous chapters, the growing capacity of lower-class women to negotiate urban territory on their own terms was not a mere by-product of modern changes. It resulted from the determination of individuals who wanted to respond to the economic crisis or take advantage of the city’s transformation. The urban transition opened new domains for women, but women still had to fight for their rights and opportunities. In laboring women’s eyes, public spaces symbolized economic and social alternatives, a kind of freedom, but also a myriad of temptations. Although public spaces caused women to feel unsafe, humiliated, or tense, they also satisfied women’s desires and needs. Redefined by women’s various usages and aims, the alienating and sometimes threatening public terrain was turned into a well-known and supportive everyday space in the city. As women’s dependency on public spaces grew, so did their outdoor expectations. In conjunction with middle-class women, working-class daughters claimed their working rights in the city through confrontation and accommodation and thus redrew their physical and social boundaries. The use of urban public spaces was crucial for laboring-class women’s sustenance. When these women’s customs of touring temple fairs and scenic sites paralleled the new hobbies of visiting theaters, movie cinemas, and parks, they also sought various job opportunities on the streets. If a small number of women (for example, actresses and courtesans) relied on public spaces to prosper, many others found resources and opportunities to support their families and themselves in the same areas. 4  Huang Jiye, “Beiping tebieshi funü xiehui” [Women’s Association of the Beiping Special Municipality], in Liu Ningyuan, Ma Chentong, and Chen Jing, Beijing de shetuan, 157–174.

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Public spaces extended women’s home spaces and received women as active participants in the urban community. Urban sociologist Lyn Lofland explored the significance of urban public spaces as a social territory and verified that this public realm, or world of strangers, coexisted with two other realms: a private realm that contained the world of the household and the network of friends and kin and a parochial realm that pertained to the world of the neighborhood, workplace, and acquaintances. The proportions and densities of the relationships present led to the creation of these realms.5 Lofland’s classification is instrumental to our understanding of women’s exploration of the city and their use of urban public spaces. It seems that, in old Beijing, women’s access to and use of urban public spaces varied in terms of their class or ethnic categories. Elite Han women spent more time in the private realm, where intimate relations dominated. Lower-class women, either Manchu or Han, however, extended their everyday lives from their courtyards into the streets and developed connections with coworkers and neighbors. For these women, the areas around their homes were no longer public, or the domain of strangers. The residents in those areas were socially linked, and the public realm was transformed into a parochial realm. Compared to female elites, lower-class women enjoyed broader relations with their neighbors and more freedom to venture outside their homes. The construction of the parochial realm, or the colonization of public spaces adjacent to homes, was a necessary process for laboring women. Compared to the parochial realm, the public realm was peripheral to women, elites and commoners alike. Women’s ventures beyond their neighborhoods, especially to recreational and entertainment establishments, were conditioned by their household responsibilities, lack of financial control, and the belief that only men, as the primary breadwinners, deserved such luxuries. Laboring women’s work and leisure lives, both of which centered on their homes and immediate neighborhoods, were rarely separate. Such women spent much less time than men in the public realm, except for actresses and sex workers. Also, women in public were always accompanied by family members or friends and were thus in private-realm “bubbles” within the public realm.6 Lofland also elaborated on the social values of urban public spaces. She praised this public realm as an environment for learning, refreshment, communication, the practice of politics, and as a place to enact social arrangements and social conflicts, as well as create cosmopolitanism.7 These values to some extent were explored and used by laboring-class women in Beijing. The courtyards and neighborhood streets allowed Lofland, The Public Realm, 10, 51. Lofland, The Public Realm, 12. 7  Lofland, The Public Realm, 229–224. 5  6 

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poor housewives to exchange ideas and information, to settle disputes, and to make alliances. Theaters and brothels were places where female entertainers could learn professional skills and gain social experiences from one another, whereas parks, movie cinemas, and amusement plazas allowed lower-class wives and daughters a glimpse of modern facilities and contact with new outlooks, attitudes, relationships, and behaviors. Additionally, squares, parks, and streets formed a public stage upon which political realities were enacted or visualized, and the political or nationalist actions of women’s societies were observed by the lower-class women. It was in public spaces that lower-class women discovered an effective setting for recognizing diversity and for learning tolerance and cooperation. But, does lower-class women’s expansion into urban public spaces indicate a significant step toward emancipation? Obviously, this is not an easy question to answer. Some social geographers have contended that the appropriation of the social spaces of everyday life is a necessity for the political empowerment of a subordinated social group, given that group or class identities are constituted and recognized only through the generation of a space.8 Women moved out of family domains bound by kinship or other private connections to public spaces where they met diverse people and developed women’s networks. Their chances were increased, visions broadened, and skills strengthened. The spontaneity, diversity, and volatility of their street lives blurred the sharp distinctions between the men’s and women’s spheres. Yet, women’s struggles for survival in the city didn’t take the form of organized resistance. The approaches they adopted for self-defense were spontaneous, apolitical, and somehow conventional. Their everyday space was created through their domestic incentives and personal interests. The public spaces that might facilitate the formation of their sisterhood also tore them apart because of competition for resources and the protection of individual and family interests. Women who entered public spaces portrayed themselves with contradictory symbols: they were explorers, users, or aggressors; they were diligent workers, idle wanderers, or calculated customers; yet at the same time they could also be problematic members of society who needed to be watched, restricted, or protected. They had to pay a price for their admission to the public realm. Public spaces provided lower-class women a platform on which to act toward their own satisfaction. But, the same spaces also set limits on them and challenged their confidence, courage, and abilities. In addition, poor women’s massive use of urban public spaces was aligned with middle-class women’s political activism. Both tendencies contributed to the alteration of gender roles and boundaries 8 

Lefebvre, The Production of Space; Gottdiener, The Social Production of Urban Space.

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and transformed the city into a more open-minded place. But, it was elite and middle-class women who were able to speak in a universal voice, who, with the right allies, could propagate their ideology and correct ordinary women’s “wrongdoings.” Taking advantage of modern changes, they claimed their increased use of city spaces as a moral imperative and redefined women’s places, obligations, and behavior. The evidence demonstrates that women in early twentieth-century Beijing didn’t exist as a homogenous social group vis-à-vis men. The lives of women as women experienced them could differ significantly from the meaning of womanhood perpetuated by the prevailing culture and public discourse. New feminist scholarship has challenged the earlier ideas of commonalities between women and has shifted to emphasize the networks of unequal power relations in which women found themselves. Various studies show that women are positioned differently based on their social class, race, age, and family status, by their sexual inclination, and by whether they are able-bodied.9 This research further recognizes women’s differences created by class, ethnicity, occupation, and age in specific circumstances. As preceding chapters note, in late Qing and early Republican Beijing, elite and middle-class women took advantage of the services provided by maids, actresses, and craftswomen, even as they criticized lower-class women’s rituals, faiths, and behavior. Women who had different occupations or who worked at different places could receive different incomes, recognition, or status. Even in the same trade, laboring-class women could be hierarchically structured: courtesans and streetwalkers had entirely different lives; female opera stars who performed in major theaters were wealthier and more revered than those who sang around Tianqiao; and wives and daughters who worked at home were considered decent women, whereas those who worked on the streets were disreputable. The research calls into question the selfevident gender divisions and the coherent identity of women and verifies the interconnections among gender, class, ethnicity, and other factors that construct women’s multiple identities. There is another issue involving elite reformers’ intervention into lower-class women’s everyday lives. This book in several places has revealed new elites’ dialogues about laboring women’s jobs, leisure activities, economic problems, moral violations, and conservatism. Yet, to what extent did the elites’ voice reach the subjects of their debates? Feminist scholars have placed Chinese women’s lives and emancipatory endeavors during the early twentieth century in a nationalist setting, yet their primary attention is devoted to elite men and women, as well as their association with Western ideologies. What they have covered is mostly a small-scale McDowell, Gender, Identity, and Place, 245.

9 

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feminist movement and a related forum where new intellectuals exchanged ideas on the possibilities of liberating women with or without any real knowledge of the lives of working-class wives and daughters. This work describes some interactions between elites and working-class women, but the elites’ discussions and reform efforts were fundamentally experimental and rarely moved beyond mere talk. A shortage of materials prevents us from understanding how much working-class women knew about or endorsed the concepts of the nation-state, women’s rights, or the reforming of popular culture, yet elite women’s discourse at most can be seen as an intention to recruit lower-class women into these ideological and social movements. Laboring-class women constituted the majority of the female population, and their everyday routine represented the mainstream of urban life. This case study of Beijing should inspire our thinking about women’s alternatives beyond elitist trends and our recognition of lower-class women’s agency embedded in their daily pursuits. Just as in the home, where women were subject to their fathers, husbands, and parents-in-laws, in the city’s public spaces, women had to follow the state, police, and elites’ morality discourses. The city’s infrastructure symbolized male power and authority and men’s legitimate occupation of urban spaces. Business sites, offices, streets, and recreational places reinforced the idealization of a city worker or leisure seeker as masculine. In these spaces, the feminine was usually out of place. The conventional expectations of gender spheres and roles, as well as the custom of sexual separatism and elites’ ethical discourse, alienated women as “the other” in public spaces. The “otherness” gave the urban authorities legitimate reasons to control women who were outside their homes. During the Ming and most of the Qing dynasties, the state played a complementary and mainly dialectic role in excluding women from public, leaving the responsibility of controlling them to the family and other social institutions. From the late Qing, however, the state depended on the police to monitor the city and its women. The association of the police force with neighborhoods and its duty to correct, protect, and rescue women on the street constructed new power relations between men and women. The patriarchal control of women thus shifted from the intended exclusion of women from the outside world to the public segregation of the two sexes. The level of intervention in women’s everyday lives grew as the paternalist state assumed a modern means to regulate women’s behaviors and activities. This trend was further accelerated after 1928 by the Nationalist Party and government, which promoted gender equality on a limited scale but at the same time placed women under their moral surveillance and ideological guidance.

Conclusion

237

Sylvia Walby identified two types of patriarchal control in capitalist societies. Domestic gender roles are based on women’s household production as the main site of their work activity and the exploitation of their labor and sexuality; such expectations also exclude women from public spaces. The public gender regime is based not on excluding women from the public, but on the segregation and subordination of women within the structures of paid employment and the state, as well as within culture, sexuality, and violence.10 We can find during the period discussed that the public gender regime in Beijing was constructed and operated through redefining the relationship between gender and public spaces. Patriarchal power was established through job hierarchies in which lower-class women became sex workers, entertainers, maidservants, beggars, or casual laborers. The public regime also worked through the rules of segregation in public places, through the subjugation of women to moral guidance, regulations, and charity institutions, and through crimes against women. Modern transformation increased women’s public presence but also intensified control of them. The city police with all of its efficiency and resources upheld the public gender regime. It is noteworthy that late Qing and early Republican Beijing was a transitional city that assembled contradictory visions, attitudes, and expectations. Women’s public attendance invited various evaluations and treatments. The legitimacy of women’s actions varied according to context. Whereas the old moral standard was applied to make regulations and guidelines, the notions of nationalism and modernity also played a part in the construction of the new urban order. Prostitutes, grannies, and beggars were opposed by the state and new elites because they represented the backwardness of women to the public and hindered modern progress; actresses could be either morally threatening or politically useful, so they deserved both surveillance and promotion; women who worked at home or in workshops were hailed as industrial and productive, yet those who struggled on the street were banned or rescued. Some public activities that women engaged in (for example, theatergoing, temple fair visitation, or hanging around on the street) were criticized as wasteful and harmful, whereas others that involved new education, patriotic campaigns, or other public-minded engagements were permitted or even encouraged. Under these circumstances, lower-class women’s identities and their associations with urban public spaces became complicated and paradoxical, generating new issues in urban politics and management.

10 

Walby, Gender Transformations, 6.

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Index

Note: page numbers in italics refer to illustrations. A Ying, 148 Abolishing Prostitution Society (Feichanghui), 189 Abundant Blessings Temple (Longfusi), 105, 108, 109 actors, 134, 136, 145, 149, 182. See also actresses actresses: apprenticeship of, 138; association with public spaces, 134, 147, 162; ban and reintroduction of, 134–135; careers of, 142; categories of, 139–140; compared with courtesans, 134, 135, 142, 157, 161; cooperation among, 141; cults of, 160–161; dilemma of, 136; discrimination against, in the theater, 137–138; elite response to, 157–162; feminist scholars’ view of, 135; harassment of, 144–145; in male roles, 151; marriages of, 145– 147; martial arts, 151; in opera, 135, 137, 158–159; and reformist theater, 147–156, 163; sexuality and, 36, 134, 141–144, 157–159, 161, 162, 163; as threat to morality, 131, 159, 206; troupes of, 140–141; in the United States, 144; virtuous, 159. See also drum-song girls adoptive families (yangjia), 86, 87, 88, 93

Advanced Police Academy (Gaodeng xunjing xuetang), 210 American women, 69–70 amusement parks, 114, 119–120, 129, 180; New World, 115, 140–141, 180; South City Amusement Park, 115, 208 An Zhucun, 86–87, 212 antiprostitution campaign, 189–194, 190n75 “area-specialist fallacy” (Stacy), 5 arranged marriage: ballads about, 25; believed to foster prostitution, 187; and elopement, 95; Manchu, 43; and suicide, 91–92, 145 Baby-Delivering Lady (Songsheng niangniang), 104 babysitters, 54–55 Bada hutong (Eight Big Alleys), 24, 168, 169, 180, 187 Bai Youyi, 51 Bai Yushan, 210 Bai Yushuang, 143, 146n38, 148 Baisiqing teahouse, 117, 180 Baitasi (White Pagoda Temple), 100, 108, 109 Baiyunguan (Shrine of White Clouds), 111 ballads, 25–27 ballroom dancing, 121–122 banbian ren (half person), 24 banner people (qimin), 41. See also Eight Banners

260 banquets, 177–178 Banzhen niangniang (Smallpox Lady), 104 Bao Shichen, 112 Bao Shufang, 123n91 baomu. See “bustard mothers” Baoying shiwusuo (Infant Affairs Institute), 218 baqi (Eight Banners), 41, 41n67, 45 barbershops, 65 bathhouses, 67–68 bathing, 40 begging, 36, 63–65, 63n45 Beida jindehui (Beijing University Society for Promoting Morality), 187 Beihai (North Sea), 116, 118, 119, 126–127 Beijing: as a city in transition, 13–14; compared with Shanghai and Tianjin, 5, 28, 31–32; gender gap in early Republican years, 33, 33n40; gender regime in imperial times, 21; industry in, 32–33; map of, in the Qing, 20; modern transformation of, 7, 27–28; parks and markets, 97; population growth, 34; sources on, 6–8, 7n19; streets and alleyways, 23–24, 27. See also urban public spaces Beijing Agricultural Experiment Station, 115–116 Beijing General Charity Organization (Beijing hengshan zongshe), 225 Beijing Natural Foot Society (Beijing tianzuhui), 30 Beijing News (Jing bao), 169 Beijing nübao. See Beijing Women’s Daily Beijing nüxue weichihui (Society for Supporting Girls’ Schools in Beijing), 120 Beijing nüxuejie lianhehui (United Association of Girls’ Schools in Beijing), 29, 31 Beijing nüzi tiyu chuanxisuo (Beijing Women’s Athletic Training

City of Working Women Center), 120 Beijing Press (Beijing chubanshe), 7n19 Beijing tianzuhui (Beijing Natural Foot Society), 30 Beijing University, Society for Promoting Morality, 187 Beijing Women’s Athletic Training Center (Beijing nüzi tiyu chuanxisuo), 120 Beijing Women’s Daily (Beijing nübao): advice to ordinary women, 123– 124; attack on aunts and grannies, 61; founding and editorship, 29, 123n91; on gossip, 78; as mouthpiece for Manchu women’s activism, 123n91, 124; on Qing theater audiences, 113; report on abuse by mother-in-law, 81–82; report on policing of women’s activities, 205 Beijing Zoo (Jingshi wanshengyuan), 115 Beiping Special Municipality (Beiping tebieshi), 231 Beiping Special Municipality Women’s Association (Beiping tebieshi funü xiehui), 232 Berling, Judith A., 106n27 Bi Yuhua, 158 Big Bell Temple (Dazhongsi), 111 Bixia yuanjun (Princess of the Colored Clouds), 104 Black Girl, 157 Board of the Police, 204–205, 207, 225; “Provisional Regulations on the Violations of Police Rules,” 205 boating dance (zouhanchuan), 106 “body problem” (Dudden), 136, 136n8, 163, 165 Bolanyuan (Universal Exhibition Garden), 115 Book of Rites, 10, 22 Boqinglang (Cold man), 155 Boston, working-class women in, 70–71n68

Index Boxer Protocol, 29, 111 Boxer Uprising, 167 Bray, Francesca, 10 Bredon, Juliet, 75 brothels: associated with political and cultural elites, 168–169, 187; banquets served at, 177, 187; as a business, 170–171; compared to theaters, 170, 171; customers of, 168–169, 173–174, 187; festivals at, 177; golden age of, in Beijing, 166; hierarchy of, 167, 171–173, 176–177; as living spaces, 179–184, 186; location of, 24, 167, 220; managers of, 57; men’s, 167; policing of, 194, 211, 219–220, 221; prices at, 178; reformists’ view of, 166, 186–187; in Shanghai, 169–170; signboards on, 164, 173; taxation of, 167, 171–172, 219; and traffic in women, 86, 93–94, 212; as unique workplaces, 178–179. See also “bustard mothers”; courtesans; prostitutes Brownell, Susan, 5 Bruneau, Marie F., 9 bu (patching), 51 “bustard mothers” (baomu): mentioned, 171, 174, 175, 176, 179; relationships with prostitutes, 180–182, 183; responsibilities of, 170, 170n21, 177 Cai Jinfeng, 146 Cai Yuanpei, 187 caigaoqiao (stilt dance), 106 Caishenmiao (Fortune God Temple), 100 Caoqiao (Grass Bridge), 100 Capital Park (Jingzhao gongyuan), 116 Capital Skill-Learning Institute (Jingshi xiyisuo), 225 Catching Flies (Zhuocangying), 143 “catching the spirit” (guan qishen), 144n33

261 censorship, 130, 231 Central and South Seas (Zhong Nan hai), 118 Central Park, 116, 117, 118, 131, 180, 206 Chang Renchun, 7n19 Changdian, 109 Charitable Commercial Workshop (Cishang nügongchang), 39 charitable institutions, 15, 65, 203, 223–226 chastity, 23, 43, 91, 126, 127, 198–199 chefs, 54, 54n14 Chen Dabei, 131 Chen Duxiu, 126, 148 Chen Hongmou, 202 Chen Liang, 225 Chen Xingya, 220 Chen Ziming, 212 Chenbao fukan (Morning news supplement), 68, 190–191 Cheng Changgeng, 137 Chengnan youyiyuan (South City Amusement Park), 115, 208 Chiang Kai-shek, 45 child abuse, 40 child brides, 213 child husbands, 25 child rearing, 39 children’s songs, 25, 27 Chinese City Press (Zhongguo chengshi chubanshe), 7n19 Chinese Educational and Cultural Foundation Board (Zhonghua jiaoyu wenhua jijin dongshihui), 36 Chinese Women’s Association (Zhongguo furenhui), 30 Chinese Women’s Commercial Savings Bank of Peking, 65 Chong Fu, 84 Chong Yi, 103–104n18 Chongshan nü yangjiyuan (Goodwill Women’s Home), 226 Chongyashe (Pursuing Elegancy Society), 140–141

262 Chuangzaoshe (Creative Society), 169 cinema: appeal to women of various social classes, 119–120; at Central Park, 131; Chinese-made movies, 207; introduction of, 114; Ping Opera in, 148; policing of, 206– 208; urban reformers’ view of, 130, 131 Cishang nügongchang (Charitable Commercial Workshop), 39 civilized drama (wenmingxi), 147 Cixi, Empress Dowager, 29, 50, 114 Clapper Opera, 140, 142, 149, 151, 158 Cleansing Body Women’s Bathhouse (Runshen nü zaotang), 67 clothing: of courtesans, 179; made from recycled materials, 52–53; of Manchu women, 42, 44; in working-class families, 37, 39 Cold Man (Boqinglang), 155 combers, 53 commoner women. See workingclass women communal fund societies (shiqianhui), 38 Communist revolution, 2, 9n22 communities, 73, 74. See also neighborhoods concubines: conflicts involving, 215; in the early Republican period, 36, 36n50; of Manchu men, 43; mentioned, 147, 155; prostitutes as, 181, 183, 188, 228 Confucianism: attacked in New Culture Movement, 4; and gender spheres, 10, 16, 22, 23; and the seclusion of women, 202 Conger, Mrs., 226n102 construction jobs, 33 consumer culture, 14–15 Correcting Popular Culture (Zhengsuke) police branch, 204–205 Correspondence (Yifengshu), 152

City of Working Women cotton industry, 2, 31–32, 32n35 courtesans: advertisements of, 175– 176; binding of feet, 175; clothing of, 179; contracts with brothels, 180; leisure time of, 180; living spaces of, 179–180; northern and southern, 167, 172; procedure for establishing a relationship, 176–177; services provided by, 177–178; ranks of, 180; Shanghai, 170, 178; training of, 175, 189. See also brothels; prostitutes Creative Society (Chuangzaoshe), 169 crime, 85–86, 88–89, 91, 96. See also trafficking in women “crossing bridges and rubbing gate nails” (zouqiao moding), 102 Crossley, Pamela K., 41n67 Cui Yongfa, 185 cursing, 81 dachawei (tea parties), 176–177 Dagu shipyard, 32 Dai Hongci, 115 “dangerous” women, 197, 203, 206, 229; police and, 216–217, 220 Dangui Theater, 131 Dangwu zhidao weiyuanhui (Party Affairs Guidance Committee), 213 Daoguang emperor, 203 Daughter’s Day (Nüer jie), 100, 103 daughters-in-law, 81–82, 93, 196, 212 dazayuan (multifamily compounds), 75n5, 76–78, 84, 95 Dazhongsi (Big Bell Temple), 111 demonstrations, 14, 29 department stores, 14, 110 Deyi store, 67 diabolo playing (doukongzhu), 106 Dianshu qitan (Legend of the electrical magic), 149 Ding Yizhuang, The Last Memories (Zuihou de huiyi), 43–45 “directed marriage” (zhihun), 43 Ditan (Earth Altar), 116

Index divorce, 30 domestic services, 53–56. See also maidservants domestic violence, 26, 77–78, 93, 215–216 Dong Guori, 92 Dong Jinfeng, 184 Dong, Madeleine Yue, Republican Beijing, 7 Dong Zhuxun, 124 Dongan Shopping Center, 118, 131, 208–209 Dongyuemiao (Temple of the God of Mt. Tai), 130 Door of Hope (Jiliangsuo), 192, 222, 226, 228; criticism of, 228–229 doukongzhu (diabolo playing), 106 Dragon God Temple (Longwangmiao), 130 Dragon Head Festival, 103 Dray-Novey, Alison, 200 “driving out misfortune” (quhuiqi), 102 drum-singing, 28, 107 drum-song (gushu) girls, 139, 157– 158, 160 drum-song houses (kunshuguan), 139 Du Yunhong, 146 Du Yunxiang, 123n91 Duan Fang, 114, 115 Duanwu Festival, 103 Dudden, Faye, “body problem,” 136, 136n8 Earth Altar (Ditan), 116 Earth God Temple (Tudimiao), 108 Eight Banners (baqi), 41, 41n67, 45 Eight Big Alleys (Bada hutong), 24, 168, 169, 180, 187 electric lights, 38 elite women: communities of, 73, 74; interactions with working-class women, 30–31, 101–102, 236; leisure pursuits of, 99; political activism of, 234–236. See also middle-class women

263 Elliott, Mark C., 41n67 elopement, 94–95, 146, 210 emancipation. See women’s emancipation movement embroidery, 50–51 emperor, and male-dominated society, 21 Emperor’s Son-in-law Shi’s Alley (Shi Fuma hutong), 23 endangered women, 197, 229 entertainment industry, 5, 13. See also actresses ethnic partition, 22 Eyesight Lady (Jianguang niangniang), 104 factories, 14, 32–34 factory workers, 32, 32n35, 34, 39–40 “Falling Lotus,” 157 false girls (xianggu), 167 family incomes, 37, 38–39, 38n56 family relations, 80–83, 154–155, 191, 192, 214–215. See also domestic violence; mothers-in-law Feichanghui (Abolishing Prostitution Society), 189 Felski, Rita, 14–15 female chastity, 23, 43, 91, 126, 127, 198–199 “female citizens” (nüguomin), 15 female deities, 104 female ghosts (nügui), 137 Female Marquise (Nühouye), 155 female opera houses (luoziguan), 139 female reformers, 1, 3, 14, 123–125 feminist scholarship, 9n22, 14, 135 Feng Fengxi, 160 Feng Yuxiang, 45, 187 fengqiong (patching the tatters), 63 festivals: at brothels, 177; and community unity, 106n27; women’s participation in, 14, 98, 99, 100–103, 201–202. See also temple fairs filial piety, 198–199 flagpole balancing, 106

264 Flanagan, Maureen A., 8 flower making, 51 Flower Market (Huashi), 108 flowering drum show (huaguxi), 143n28 folk songs, 25–27 food costs, 37, 38 food distribution, 47 foot binding: ban of, 120, 231; campaigns against, 4, 30, 120, 121; of courtesans, 175; not practiced by Manchu women, 42 Forbidden City, 21–22, 28, 118 Fortune God, 177 Fortune God Temple (Caishenmiao), 100 fortune-tellers, 57, 58–59, 84, 217 fund-raising campaigns, 30 funeral processions, 107 Funü dunyihui (Women’s Friendship Society), 122 Funü zhoukan (Women’s weekly), 192–194 Gai Rongxuan, 151 Gaixiaji (The story of a begging hero), 153 Gamble, Sidney: on the Door of Hope, 228–229; identified gender gap in Beijing population, 33n40; on number of women in Beijing factories, 34; on prostitution, 168, 173, 187–188, 189, 220; on poverty rates, 35, 35n46; surveys of, 36, 38; on wages of maidservants, 54n14 gambling, 26–27, 178 ganbao (mobile contractors), 139 Gao Yongchun, 90 Gao Yuzhen, 120–121 Gaodeng xunjing xuetang (Advanced Police Academy), 210 Gazetteer of Shuntian Prefecture (Shuntian fuzhi), 203 gender crimes, 86 gender regimes, 237 gender relations: actresses and, 134;

City of Working Women gendered power relations, 9, 11, 96; prostitution and, 195; and women’s leisure pursuits, 98 gender segregation: and Chinese cultural identity, 209; at girls’ schools, 198; police and, 197, 200, 205; protocols of Song scholars, 22–23; Qing policies on, 204; in theaters, 17, 205, 206. See also gender spheres gender spheres, 10–12, 16, 22, 45, 70, 126, 198 “gender studies approach,” 5–6 girls’ schools: formation of, 4, 29, 123; gender segregation at, 198; sports and recreational activities in, 120, 121 God and Goddess of the Bed (Kanggong and Kangmu), 59 Golden Fish Pond (Jinyuchi), 100 Gongxunju (Repair and Patrol Bureau), 204. See also police “good wives and virtuous mothers,” 199 Goodwill Women’s Home (Chongshan nü yangjiyuan), 226 gossip, 78–80 Goulan hutong (Theatrical Alley), 24 “grannies” (“three aunts and six grannies”; sangu liupo), 14, 16, 56–61, 216–217 Grape Chang (Putao Chang), 50 Grass Bridge (Caoqiao), 100 Guangde Theater, 140 guangmiao (strolling around temple fairs), 98 Guangrentang (Hall of Universal Benevolence), 224–225 Guangxu emperor, 114 guanke (official person), 24 guan qishen (catching the spirit), 144n33 guining (visits to natal home), 103 Guo Cuixi, 184 Guo Licheng, 109 Guo Zhendong, 95 guojie (celebrating festivals), 98

Index Guomindang. See Nationalist Party guominmu (mothers of citizens), 15 gushu (drum-singing), 28, 107, 139, 157–158, 160 hairdressers, 53 Haitanghong (Red Chinese flowering crab apple), 148 “half person” (banbian ren), 24 Hall of Universal Benevolence (Guangrentang), 224–225 Han Puan, 149 handicrafts, 14, 33, 50–53 He Qixun, 217 Health Bureau, 217–218, 220, 222 Heavenly Princess (Tianhou), 104 Hero Who Saves His Country, The (Jiuguo yingxiong), 151 heroines, 155 Hershatter, Gail: on prostitution, 169–170, 181, 186, 190n75; on women’s engagement in public spaces, 3, 17 highway robberies, 88 Ho Chieh, 54 Ho Wenlin, 88 holidays, 100–103. See also festivals homelessness, 65 Hong Jun, 167 Hong Shen, 148 Hong Yan, 227 Hongxian monarchy, 13, 168–169 hospitals, 217 housewives, 3, 17, 73, 75, 80 Howe, Elizabeth, 143 Hu Fuzhen, 51 Hu Xiufeng, 211 Hu Xueyuan, 184 Hu Yitang, 215 Hua Changting, 92 Hua Furong, 141 Hua Shulan, 141 Hua Zhenzhu, 146 huadan (young woman) role, 137, 138 huaguxi (flowering drum show), 143n28

265 huaju (speaking drama), 151 Huang Shaogu, “The Issue of Survival or Abolition of Prostitution,” 193–194 Huang Zifang, 222 Huashi (Flower Market), 108 Huguosi (Protecting the Country Temple), 105, 108, 109, 205 immigrants. See migration; refugees Imperial City, 22, 116. See also North Sea Imperial Relative Zhang’s Alley (Zhang Huangqin hutong), 23 Imperial Temple (Taimiao), 118 incense groups (xianghui), 105 “incense watchers” (qiaoxiangde), 57, 57n21 incest, 189 “inequality-patriarchy approach,” 5 Infant Affairs Institute (Baoying shiwusuo), 218 infant mortality, 39 infidelity, 82 informal workers, 40 Inner City: brothels, 167; cinemas, 207; Manchu residence in, 22, 41–42; population, 34; poverty, 35; residential architecture, 76; surveys conducted in, 36–37; temples, 105; theaters, 111, 112, 140 intermarriage, 43, 44 “internal person” (tangke), 24 Jia Fengcai, 185 Jian Yun, 157 Jiang Jin, 136 Jiang Junjia, 182 Jiang Yonghe, 209 Jianguang niangniang (Eyesight Lady), 104 jiantouhu (tiger of reference), 66 Jiaofangsi (Musical Training Institute), 166 Jiaoyangju (Reformist Bureau), 225

266 Jiating huoshui (The root of family disaster), 155 Jiliangsuo (Door of Hope), 192, 222, 226, 228; criticism of, 228–229 Jin Shoushen, 52 Jin Xiuqing, 67–68 Jin Yanfen, 159 Jin Yueju, 151 Jin Yuemei, 143n28 Jin Yueqing, 93 Jing bao (Beijing news), 169 Jing Hill (Jingshan), 118 Jingjiehui (Revering Chastity Society), 225 Jingshi wanshengyuan (Beijing Zoo), 115 Jingshi xiyisuo (Capital SkillLearning Institute), 225 Jingzhao gongyuan (Capital Park), 116 Jingzhongmiao (Loyalty Temple), 137 Jinü jianzhi shiwusuo (Office for the Examination and Treatment of Prostitutes), 222 Jinwu Athletic Association (Jinwu tiyu xiehui), 121 Jinyuchi (Golden Fish Pond), 100 Jiuguo yingxiong (The hero who saves his country), 151 Jiuhuangtang (Nine Gods Temple), 137 Juanyou Yisou, 159 Jun Ping, 194 junk collectors, 62 Kaiping Mines, 32 kaitong (open-mindedness), 124–125 Kanggong and Kangmu (God and Goddess of the Bed), 59 Kates, George, 64 kidnapping, 86–87, 88; police and, 210–211, 212. See also trafficking in women Ko, Dorothy, 8–9n22, 73 Kuideshe (Society for Championing

City of Working Women Virtues), 136, 151–156. See also Zhideshe kunshuguan (drum-song houses), 139 landlords, 37 “lane neighborhoods” (linong), 76 Lantern Festival, 99, 101–102 Lao She, “The Liu Family Compound,” 77–78; Neighbors, 74–75 laomadian (maid inns), 65–67, 65n53 laomazi (old maids), 53. See also maidservants laosheng (old man) role, 137 laotou le (old men’s pleasure) shoes, 50 lascivious drama (yinxi), 142–144 laundry services, 50 lawsuits, 85, 92, 93, 146 legal codes, 218 Legend of the Electrical Magic (Dianshu qitan), 149 leisure pursuits, 98–99, 119, 132, 180; men’s, 106–107 Leung, Angela, 224 Li Changqing, 212 Li Dazhao, 190 Li Guiwang, 87 Li Guiyun, 150 Li Hanjun, 127 Li Hongbao, 185 Li Hongzhang, 31, 32 Li Jiari, 157 Li Jingwu, 78 Li Liugeng, 189 Li Songting, 211 Li Zaiwen, 141 lianchi (shame), 202 Liang Juzhuang, 149 Liang Yen, 74 Liao Suqing, 39 libraries, 115 Lin Zhusan, 114 Link, Perry, 132n120 linong (lane neighborhoods), 76 lion dance, 106

Index Liu Cuixi, 185 Liu Lianshun, 212 Liu Xikui, 140, 142, 146, 149, 150; poem of Yi Shunding to, 162 Liyang Native Place Lodge Alley (Liyang guan jiadao), 24 Liyuanguang (Theatrical Lodge), 137 Lofland, Lyn, 233 Longfusi (Abundant Blessings Temple), 105, 108, 109 Longwangmiao (Dragon God Temple), 130 “Lord Moon Is Bright” (folk song), 26–27 Lowe, H. Y., 53 lower-class women. See workingclass women Loyalty Temple (Jingzhongmiao), 137 Lu, Hanchao, 76 Lu Jingqing, 118 Lu Xun, 126 Lunhui, Censor, 203 luoziguan (female opera houses), 139 Ma Kuiren, 206 Ma Leji, 24 Ma Wanyu, 209 Ma Zhangyuan hutong (Scholarly Champion Ma’s Alley), 24 Madriz, Esther, 91 mah-jongg, 177, 221 Mai Qianzen, 173, 174, 181, 183, 188–189 “maid inns” (laomadian), 65–67, 65n53 maidservants: abuse of, 227; in brothels, 171, 176; of courtesans, 180; in Lao She’s Neighbors, 75; rural women as, 55–56; as spies for their mistresses, 79; status of, 14, 69; suicide by, 94; and trafficking in women, 213; and urban public spaces, 55; used “maid inns” to find employment, 66; wages of, 54n14, 55; to

267 wealthy households, 53–56 Majesty Shi’s Alley (Shi Daren hutong), 23 “Manchu way,” 41, 44–45 Manchu women: activism by, 123n91, 124; on the battlefield, 42; and chastity, 43; clothing of, 42, 44; customs of, 42, 42n71, 44, 59, 102, 103; education of, 44; freedom of, 42, 75–76; hairstyle of, 42, 51; interviews with, 43–44; marriage of, 43, 44; midwives, 59; and needlework, 44; princesses, 28–29, 30; poverty of, 27, 124; seclusion of, 44; shamans and fortunetellers, 42, 57–59; unmarried daughters, 42; widows, 42, 43 Manchus: adoption of Han cultural practices, 42–43, 45; decline of, 56, 189; ethnicity of, 40–41, 41n67, 42n71; language of, 41, 44; Manchu-Han relations, 40–41; and Mongolian independence movement, 45; population of, 40, 45; poverty among, 35; relocated from Beijing, 34; segregation of, 41. See also Manchu women Mandarin Duck and Butterfly school (Yuanyang hudiepai), 131–132, 132n120 Mann, Susan, 134n1, 201 markets, 51–52, 97 marriage: of actresses, 145–147; arranged, 25; ballads about, 25–27; delayed, 17n44; “directed,” 43; free-choice, 127–128, 145, 154, 190, 193; intermarriage, 43, 44; Manchu, 42–44; of prostitutes, 182–183, 228; protected under Qing law, 211n52; remarriage, 23; runaways from, 212–213; Western-style, 30 matchmakers, 57 May Fourth intellectuals, 128–129, 128n107; writers, 132n120 May Fourth Movement, 9n22, 14, 29

268 McDowell, Linda, 80 McKinnon, Catherine, 142n24 medicine sellers, 57 Mei Kui, 130 middle-class women: adoption of Western culture, 29–30, 113–114, 120; different experience from working-class women, 1, 13; and emancipation movement, 46; as ideal women, 13; leisure pursuits of, 99, 119; literature written by, 18; occupations of, 65; patriotism, 13; subjection to scrutiny in public spaces, 16 Midwife Shi, 24 midwives, 24, 40, 57, 58–61; category of “grannies” integrated into modern society, 217–218, 231; and Manchu customs, 59 migration, 14, 33–34, 33n40, 40, 55. See also refugees Ministry of Education, 150; Study Committee on Popular Education, 149 Ministry of Police, 217 mobile contractors (ganbao), 139 modern-dress drama (shizhuangxi), 140, 144, 148, 149, 150, 151 modernization, 31, 65 monastic women, 26 “money trees” (yaoqianshu), 87 Mongolian independence movement, 45 Moral Welfare Committee, 189 Morning News Supplement (Chenbao fukan), 68, 190–191 mothers-in-law, 81–82, 93, 196, 212 “mothers of citizens” (guominmu), 15 movies. See cinema Mrs. Feng’s Institute for Introducing Maids, 66 Mt. Miaofeng, 104–105, 203 multifamily compounds (dazayuan), 75n5, 76–78, 84, 95 Municipal Council (Beijing), 27 museums, 115, 116, 129

City of Working Women Musical Training Institute (Jiaofangsi), 166 Naizifu (Residence of Wet Nurses), 24 Nankai School (Tianjin), 150 Naquin, Susan, 103n4, 224; Peking: Temples and City Life, 1400–1900, 6 nation building, 3–4, 124, 128, 152– 154, 198, 217 Nationalist Party: policies on sex trade, 222–223; policies toward women, 1, 213, 231–232, 236; used actresses in mass mobilization, 147–150 native place, 55 Natong, 225 needlework, 49–50, 50–51; Manchu women and, 44 neighborhoods: built around multifamily enclosures, 76–78, 95; class-based, 80; defined, 73; functions of, 73–74, 95–96; and gossip, 78–80; lane, 76; of lowerclass compared to elite women, 74–75 neiwai youbie (separation of the “inner” sphere from the “outer”), 10–11, 103. See also gender segregation; gender spheres New Culture Movement: and invention of Chinese tradition, 9n22; and prostitution, 189–191, 193–194, 195; and social surveys, 36; and women’s issues, 1, 4 new drama (xinxi), 147, 149 New Policies, 28 New Tulip (Xinchahua), 149 “new women” (xin nüxing), 4, 128– 129, 128n107, 154 New World (Xinshijie), 115, 140–141, 180 New York City, 69–70, 75, 119 New Youth (Xinqingnian), 148 newspapers, 90–91, 94 Nine Gods Temple (Jiuhuangtang), 137

Index Ning Xiaolu, 151 Northern Expedition, 45 North Sea (Beihai), 116, 118, 119, 126–127 Nüer jie (Daughter’s Day), 100, 103 nügui (female ghosts), 137 nüguomin (female citizens), 15 Nühouye (Female marquise), 155 nuns, 57 Nü xiyisuo (Women’s Industrial Home), 226–228 Nüzi shiye xuexiao (Women’s Industrial School), 31 Office for the Examination and Treatment of Prostitutes (Jinü jianzhi shiwusuo), 222 Office for the Examination of Prostitutes, 220, 222 “official person” (guanke), 24 Offspring Lady (Zisun niangniang), 104 “old Beijing,” 7–8 Old Ladies’ Home, 226n102 Old Lady Shi’s Alley (Shi Laoliang hutong), 24 “old maids” (laomazi), 53–54. See also maidservants “old men’s pleasure” (laotou le) shoes, 50 open-mindedness (kaitong), 124–125 opera singers, 93, 112, 138 opium, 184, 231 Outer City, 22, 34, 35, 36–37, 41, 76 Ouyang Yuqian, 148 Paderni, Paola, 94 parades, temple, 105–106, 123 parks: and courtship, 117–118, 238; frequented by women, 116, 117– 118, 119; teahouses in, 116–117; and urban reform in Republican Beijing, 97, 114–115, 116, 132; zoo, 114, 115, 119, 132. See also amusement parks Party Affairs Guidance Committee

269 (Dangwu zhidao weiyuanhui), 213 “patching” (bu), 51 “patching the tatters” (fengqiong), 63 patriarchy, 5, 17, 19, 21, 236–237 patriotism, 13, 199 peddlers, 53, 62, 107 Peiss, Kathy, 119 Peking Opera: actresses in, 135, 143n30; appreciated by Manchu women, 44; female singers in, 112; mentioned, 28; performances attended by women students in Beijing, 118; roles in, 137–138; studied by courtesans, 175; sung by men for amusement, 107; women’s favorite plays, 112–113 Peng Shoukang, 115 Penglai (Shandong), 89 personal hygiene, 40 petty urbanites, 109, 131–132 physical exercise programs for women, 120–121 Pi Huashun, 89 Ping Opera (pingxi), 139, 143, 148 pipe smoking, by women, 26 Pishou (censor), 114 police: and beggars, 64; controlled women’s access to public spaces, 9, 15, 200, 204–205, 229–230; and “dangerous women,” 19, 216–217; deprived women of right to attend political assemblies, 199; and domestic abuse, 215–216; and family disputes, 214–215; and gender segregation, 200, 205, 209; health office of, 217–218; licensing and regulation of cinemas, 114, 207– 208; maintained order through mediation and education, 81n24, 216; management of amusement parks, 208; and nation building, 198; outlaw of witch doctors and religious practitioners, 58; and prostitution, 194, 200, 220–222, 228; protection of endangered

270 women, 19, 197; and public morality, 15, 19, 206; and public sanitation, 204; regulation of midwives, 217–218; and sexual harassment, 208–209; and street fights, 214; and suicide, 214; and traffic in women, 210–212; and women’s rehabilitation centers, 227 police academy, 210 police corruption, 221 polygamy, 42–43 popular romances, 15 poverty, 15, 34–36, 56n19, 72, 188, 223–225 power relations: in Beijing, 7; gender and, 9, 11, 96 Precious Mirror of Freedom, The (Ziyou baojian), 154 Prime Minister Wen’s Alley (Wen Chengxiang hutong), 23 Princess of the Colored Clouds (Bixia yuanjun), 104 prisons, 226 prohibition through taxation policy (yujin yuzheng), 219 prostitutes: and actors, 182; advertising of, 176; age of, 173, 194; antiprostitution campaign, 189–194, 190n75; clothing of, 206; conflicts with clients, 184–185; considered negative example for decent women, 206; customers of bathhouses, 67; as dangerous and endangered, 197–198; debt of, 183; desire for marriage, 182–183; diet of, 179; facilities for, 228; foreign, 168; government regulation of, 218–219, 231; literacy rate of, 189; medical examinations of, 220; native places of, 172; in new drama, 149; and opium, 184; and the police, 194, 200, 220–222, 228; pregnancies of, 181; purchased as concubines, 181, 188, 215; ranks of, 172n26, 173, 180; reasons for

City of Working Women joining the trade, 36, 83, 174–175, 188, 191; redemption of, 174, 184; registration of, 168, 172, 190, 192, 218–220, 221; relationships with bustard mothers, 180–182, 183; rehabilitation of, 192, 226, 228–229; resistance by, 184–185; self-employed, 180, 181, 183, 188; signboards advertising, 164, 173; studies of, 3, 65–66, 187–189; sold or leased to brothels, 174; taxation of, 190, 219, 220–221. See also brothels; courtesans; sex trade; trafficking in women Protecting the Country Temple (Huguosi), 105, 108, 109, 205 public parks. See parks public realm, 233. See also urban public spaces public spaces. See urban public spaces Puci nü gongchang (Universal Benevolence Female Workshop), 226 Puguang, 146 Pursuing Elegancy Society (Chongyashe), 140–141 Putao Chang (Grape Chang), 50 Puyi, 45 Qianlong emperor, 203 qiaoxiangde (incense watchers), 57, 57n21 qimin (banner people), 41 Qin Fengyun, 150 Qing dynasty, fall of, 27, 56 Qingle Theater, 140 Qingming Festival, 100, 102, 201 Qingyutang, 179 qipao, 30 Qiuwong, 126 quadrangle courtyards (siheyuan), 75n5, 76 Quan Liuer, 211 queue, 41, 44, 231 quhuiqi (driving out misfortune), 102

Index Rawski, Evelyn S., 41n67 recycling, 52–53, 62 Red Chinese Flowering Crab Apple (Haitanghong), 148 Reformist Bureau (Jiaoyangju), 225 refugees: charitable institutions for, 224–225; from famine, 34; and prostitution, 189; relief for, 223; targets for traffickers, 86–87. See also migration “Regulations of Women’s Elementary and Normal Schools,” 120 rehabilitation centers, 226–228 Ren Jingxin, 215 rents, 37, 39 Repair and Patrol Bureau (Gongxunju), 204, 225. See also police Residence of Wet Nurses (Naizifu), 24 residential architecture, 76 resistance, 17, 91–92, 184–185 “rest places” (xiachu), 167 restaurants, 108 Revering Chastity Society (Jingjiehui), 225 Revolution of 1911, 1, 34, 45, 70 Rhoads, Edward J. M., 41n67 rickshaw pullers: female, 14, 17, 61; male, 33; ranks of, 61; services to courtesans, 176, 179; sociological surveys of, 36; wages of, 54, 54n14 rickshaws, 61–62, 67 robberies, 88–89, 91 Robertson, Jennifer, 156 Rofel, Lisa, 14 Root of Family Disaster, The (Jiating huoshui), 155 runaway brides, 94–95. See also elopement runaway wives, 212–213 running water, 27, 38 Runshen nü zaotang (Cleansing Body Women’s Bathhouse), 67 Ryan, Mary, 197

271 Sai Jinhua, 167 sangu liupo (“three aunts and six grannies”; “grannies”), 14, 16, 56–61, 216–217 Sanhe County (Hebei), 55 sanheyuan (compounds with houses on three sides), 76 Sanqing Theater, 140, 149 Sanyou Theater, 143 Scholarly Champion Ma’s Alley (Ma Zhangyuan hutong), 24 School of Pleasant Instruction (Yujiao nüxuetang), 120 Sea of Ten Monasteries (Shishahai), 101, 109–110 seclusion of women, 10–11, 44, 202 separate spheres (neiwai youbie), 10–11, 103. See also gender segregation; gender spheres sericulture, 17n44, 31 sewing services, 50 sex trade: Allied occupation of Beijing and, 167; in Beijing compared to Shanghai, 190, 194, 195; employment in, 169; legalization of, 166, 167; men and, 193, 195; in the north, 166; politicians and, 168–169; scholarship on, 3, 165–166; social factors and, 187–189, 192; social reformers and, 186–187, 195; state regulation of, 3. See also brothels; courtesans; prostitutes; trafficking in women sexual harassment, 89–90; policing of, 208–209 shamanism, 42, 57–58 shame (lianchi), 202 Shanghai: as center for foreign trade, 31–32; city of two worlds, 28; lane neighborhoods of, 76 Shanghai Commercial Press (Shangwu yinshuguan), 207 Shanghai Municipal Council, Special Vice Committee, 189, 190, 194 Shao Piaoping, 169

272 Shaolin boxing, 106 Shehui gailianghui (Society for Social Reforms), 131 Shehui kexue zazhi (Social science magazine), 36 Shejitan (Temple of the Earth and Grain), 116 Shen Yanbing, 127 Shi Daren hutong (Majesty Shi’s Alley), 23 Shi Fengshan, 206 Shi Fuma hutong (Emperor’s Son-inlaw Shi’s Alley), 23 Shi Heng, 23 Shi Laoliang hutong (Old Lady Shi’s Alley), 24 Shi Tuo, 109 Shi Yi, 127 shiersan zuo xifu, huer badu shenmo ye budong (bride of twelve to thirteen years old—muddleheaded), 25 shiqianhui (communal fund societies), 38 Shishahai (Sea of Ten Monasteries), 101, 109–110 shizhuangxi (modern-dress drama), 140, 144, 148, 149, 150, 151 shizibu tiaohua (embroidering flowers on cross-type clothing), 51 shoe making, 50 Shoude Store, 179 Shrine of White Clouds (Baiyunguan), 111 Shuangmei zhengfu (Two beauties compete for a husband), 131 Shuntian fuzhi (Gazetteer of Shuntian Prefecture), 203 Shuntian Times (Shuntian shibao), 59, 113 shuttlecock kicking (tijianzi), 106 siheyuan (quadrangle courtyards), 75n5, 76 sitting contractors (zuobao), 139–140 slang, image of women in, 24–25 Smallpox Lady (Banzhen niangniang), 104

City of Working Women social interaction between men and women, 126–129, 131, 132 Social Science Magazine (Shehui kexue zazhi), 36 Social Survey Department, 36 Society for Championing Virtues (Kuideshe), 136, 151–156. See also Society for Pursuing Virtues Society for Promoting Morality, Beijing University (Beida jindehui), 187 Society for Pursuing Virtues (Zhideshe), 140, 149–151, 149n50. See also Society for Championing Virtues Society for Social Reforms (Shehui gailianghui), 131 Society for Supporting Girls’ Schools in Beijing (Beijing nüxue weichihui), 120 sociological studies, 36–40, 54, 129–130 Sociological World, 188 Song Jiufeng, 92 “Song of Civilized Marriage,” 30 Song protocols on sexual segregation, 22 Songsheng niangniang (BabyDelivering Lady), 104 South City Amusement Park (Chengnan youyiyuan), 115, 208 South City Park, 116, 117, 180 Spain, Daphne, 10 sports, women’s participation in, 120–121 Stacy, Judith, “area-specialist fallacy,” 5 stage sisters (wutai jiemei), 141, 146 Stansell, Christine, 75 stilt dance (caigaoqiao), 106 Story of a Begging Hero, The (Gaixiaji), 153 Strand, David, 81n24, 214; Rickshaw Beijing, 6–7 street amusements, 106–108 street fights, 80–85, 214

Index street names, 23–24, 27 street performances, 105, 107, 108 street prophets, 58–59. See also fortune-tellers street vending, 16, 53, 62, 107 streets, as dangerous places for women, 85–91, 96 students, 14, 118, 129 Su, Prince, 123n91 suicide: and arranged marriages, 145; debate since Ming, 23; and family reputation, 92; by older women, 94; police and, 210, 214; reasons for, 91–94; in theater, 155, 156; by wives, 43 Summer Palace (Yiheyuan), 116, 118 Sun Chuanfang, 45 Sun Guiqiu, 158 Sun Haiqian, 93–94 surveys, 36–40, 54 Suzhou courtesans, 172 Taimiao (Imperial Temple), 118 Taiwan, women’s gossip in, 79 Tan Xinpei, 137, 149 Tang Hualong, 199 Tang Rongsheng, 83 Tang Shaoyi, 122 tangke (internal person), 24 Tao Menghe, 36–37, 38n56 “tea parties” (dachawei), 176–177 teahouses: evolved into theaters, 111, 112; mentioned, 2, 28; in parks, 116–117, 118; second-class brothels as, 172 telephones, 27, 38 temple dramas, 202–203 temple fairs: compared with shopping centers, 110–111; investigated by sociologists, 129– 130; leisure activity for women, 14, 98, 103–106, 108–111, 132; views of women’s participation, 123, 129–130, 201, 203 Temple of Agriculture (Xiannongtan), 115, 116

273 Temple of Heaven (Tiantan), 100, 139n14 Temple of the Earth and Grain (Shejitan), 116 Temple of the God of Mt. Tai (Dongyuemiao), 130 temples: as commercial sites, 109, 110; family-oriented visits, 106, 201; number of, in Beijing, 103–104n18; parades at, 105–106, 123; and patriarchal ideals, 21; as public spaces, 6, 108–109. See also temple fairs theater: appeal to women of various social classes, 119–120; audiences, 11–12, 144, 144n33, 156; and female entertainers, 162; female troupes, 140–141, 162; gender distinctions in, 137; heroines in, 155; lascivious drama, 142–144; modern-dress drama, 140, 144, 148, 149, 150, 151; and nation building, 148, 152–154; new drama, 147, 149; reformers and, 130–131, 136, 147–150; single-sex, 140, 151; temple dramas, 202–203; U.S., 144; on women’s rights, 154–156; See also actors; actresses; Peking Opera; theaters theaters: in Beijing, 112n49; brothels compared to, 170, 171; classes of, 140, 140n18; gender segregation in, 17, 205, 206; mixed seating in, 112, 131; teahouse tradition in, 112, 113; in Tianqiao, 139–140; women’s attendance at, 111–113, 133; women’s exclusion from, 205. See also theater Theatrical Alley (Goulan hutong), 24 theatrical guilds, 137 Theatrical Lodge (Liyuanguan), 137 Theft of the Female Errant, The (Xianü dao), 131 third-day bath (xisan), 59 “three aunts and six grannies” (sangu liupo), 14, 16, 56–61, 216–217

274 Three Principles of the People, 232 Tian Han, 148 Tian Jiyun, 137, 149 Tiananmen Square, 29, 118 Tianhe Theater, 205 Tianhou (Heavenly Princess), 104 Tianjin, 32–33, 150 Tianjin shidiao (Tianjin current tune), 143n28 Tianle Teahouse, 114 Tianqiao, 7, 93, 135, 139–140, 139n14; drum-song girls of, 157, 160 Tiantan (Temple of Heaven), 100, 139n14 “tiger works,” 52 tijianzi (shuttlecock kicking), 106 Tongle Theater, 140 trafficking in women, 86–87, 191, 220; female traffickers, 57, 87, 93; Nationalist policies on, 213, 231; policing of, 210–212 Treaty of Shimonoseki, 31–32 treaty ports, 31–32 Tudimiao (Earth God Temple), 108 Tuoyouping (The widow), 156 Two Beauties Compete for a Husband (Shuangmei zhengfu), 131 unemployment, 188, 189 United Association of Girls’ Schools in Beijing (Beijing nüxuejie lianhehui), 29, 31 Universal Benevolence Female Workshop (Puci nü gongchang), 226 Universal Exhibition Garden (Bolanyuan), 115 urbanization, 12, 27–28, 56. See also urban public spaces urban public spaces: access varied by class and ethnicity, 45–46, 48, 233; appeal to women of all social statuses, 119–120; dangers of, to women, 90, 202–203; debate about women’s use of, 68; feminist goals for, 123–125; male control of, 10–

City of Working Women 12, 15, 198, 236–237; significance of, to women, 5, 9–13; use for entertainment and festivities, 99, 103, 122; in the West, 11, 12; working-class women’s use of, 232–234; as workplaces, 70–71, 232. See also neighborhoods urban reform movement, 130, 132, 230 venereal disease, 181, 191, 220, 222 Vernacular Daily for Benefiting Society (Yishi baihua bao), 130 “virtuous wives and wise mothers” (xianqi liangmu), 4, 15 virtuous women, 4, 198–199, 199n3 vocational schools, 30, 31 Walby, Sylvia, 237 Waldersee, Count von, 167 “walking out a hundred illnesses” (zoubaibing), 102 Wang Bincheng, 110 Wang, C. Z., 65 Wang Fengming, 89–90 Wang, Grandmother, 58 Wang Gui, 212 Wang Jingui, 185 Wang Jinrong, 151 Wang Juxian, 146 Wang Keqin, 184 Wang Qingkui, 151 Wang, Shuo, 42n71 Wang Tingchen, “Song of Shangyuan Evening in Beijing” (“Yanjing yuanxi qu”), 101 Wang Xiangya, 30 Wang Xiaofeng, 215 Wang Xinzhai, 86–87, 212 Wang Yingxian, 150 Wang Yuzhi, 185 Wang Zetian, 88 Wang Zizhen, 123n91 warlords, 13 Wasserstrom, Jeffrey N., 5 waste disposal, 40

Index watermelon seeds, 176–177 Watson, Rubie, 17 wedding processions, 107–108 Wei Xikui, 141 Wen Chengxiang hutong (Prime Minister Wen’s Alley), 23 Wen Tianxiang, 23 Wen Yuan, 87 Wenming Theater, 135, 140 wenmingxi (civilized drama), 147 Westernization, 29–30, 122 wet nurses, 24, 53, 54 White Pagoda Temple (Baitasi), 100, 108, 109 Whyte, William, 9 Widow, The (Tuoyouping), 156 widows, 24, 42, 43, 224, 225 wife beating. See domestic violence Wilson, Elizabeth, 13 witch doctors, 57–58, 61, 217 Wolf, Margery, 79 women’s agency, 5, 17 women’s clubs, 120 women’s education, 23, 29, 189, 198. See also girls’ schools women’s emancipation movement, 28–29; and the antiprostitution campaign, 189–191; Nationalist policies, 199–200, 231; and nation building, 3–4, 16, 125–126, 154; public spaces and, 46, 234; sex trade and, 186; themes in theater, 154–156 Women’s Friendship Society (Funü dunyihui), 122 Women’s Industrial Home (Nü xiyisuo), 226–228 Women’s Industrial School (Nüzi shiye xuexiao), 31 women’s magazines, 15 Women’s Reformatory (Ganhuasuo), 226 women’s seclusion, 16, 74, 125, 132 women’s sexuality, 134, 134n1. See also actresses, sexuality and; prostitutes

275 women’s suffrage movement, 29 Women’s Weekly (Funü zhoukan), 192–194 women-owned businesses, 65–67 working mothers, 39 working-class dwellings, 37–38, 40 working-class men, 38, 40, 50 working-class women: compared with middle-class women, 13, 16; interactions with elite women, 30–31; Nationalist Party control of, 231–232; occupations of, 2–3, 14, 31, 32, 34, 37, 38, 40, 48–49, 50, 57, 62–63; sources of information on, 18; use of urban spaces for economic gain, 68–69, 70–71, 70–71n68; work inside the home, 49–53 Wu Bingxiang, 206, 211 Wu Guangjun, 211 Wu Shufen, 31 Wu Yunfeng, 84 wutai jiemei (stage sisters), 141, 146 Xi Langhe, 216 xiachu (rest places), 167 Xian Lingzhi, 150 Xianfeng emperor, 203 xianggu (false girls), 167 xianghui (incense groups), 105 Xiannongtan (Temple of Agriculture), 115, 116 xianqi liangmu (virtuous wives and wise mothers), 4, 15 Xianü dao (Theft of the Female Errant), 131 Xiao Desheng, 212 Xiao Rongfu, 150 Xie Bingying, “Loving Beiping” (“Beiping zhilian”), 118–119 Xie Wanying, 129 Xie Xingyao, 116 Xin Fengxia, 141, 145 xin nüxing (new women), 4, 128–129, 128n107, 154 Xinchahua (The new tulip), 149

276 Xinshijie (New World), 115, 140–141, 180 xinxi (new drama), 147 xisan (third-day bath), 59 Xu Ke, 172 Xu Xiuer, 95 Xu Yanzhi, 127 Xu Yu, 117 Xue Yanhong, 161 Xue Yanqin, 146 Xueyang Press (Xueyang chubanshe), 7n19 Yan Chen Shi, 58 Yan Zefu, 227 Yang Chaosheng, 126 Yang Nianqun, 60 Yang Qifa, 90 Yang Xiaohong, 83–84, 185 Yang Yunpu, 148–150 yangjia (adoptive families), 86, 87, 88, 93 Yanjing Patching Factory, 51 Yanjing University, 36, 54 Yanshan Press (Yanshan chubanshe), 7n19 Yaojiang Native Place Lodge Alley (Yaojiang guan jiadao), 24 yaoqianshu (money trees), 87 Ye Xiaoying, 161 Yi Shunding, 160–162; poem to Li Xikui, 162; Song of a Few Dou of Blood (Shudou xuege), 161 Yi Zhengpu, 149 Yifengshu (Correspondence), 152 Yiheyuan (Summer Palace), 116, 118 Yin Di, 169 Yin, Old Madam, 54 yinxi (lascivious drama), 142–144 Yishi baihua bao (Vernacular daily for benefiting society), 130 You Jinhua, 134 You Yuhua, 134 Yu Dafu, 169 Yu Fengying, 30 Yu Haiquan, 227

City of Working Women Yu Jinhu, 208–209 Yu Julu, 158–159 Yu Qian, 23 Yu Zhenting, 135 Yuan Keding, 168–169 Yuan Liang, 66n53 Yuan Shikai, 4 Yuanyang hudiepai (Mandarin Duck and Butterfly school), 131–132, 132n120 Yucheng Troupe, 149 yujin yuzheng (prohibition through taxation), 219 Yun Shi, 116 Zhang Henshui, 132n120; The Romance of Laugh and Cry (Tixiao yinyuan), 117 Zhang Huangqin hutong (Imperial Relative Zhang’s Alley), 23 Zhang Jiangcai, 112 Zhang Maotian, 83 Zhang Wenjun, 170, 182, 229 Zhang Xiangtian, 111 Zhang Xiaoting, 184–185 Zhang Yushu, 123n91 Zhang Yutang, 82–83 Zhang Zhongxing, 110 Zhao Bi, 211 Zhao Bingjun, 135 Zhao Cuiyin, 185 Zhao Dechun, 95 Zhao Jinshen, 148 Zhao Quanshun, 90 Zhao Songquan, 212 Zhao Wenquan, 227 Zhao Yuzhen, 184 Zheng Xiang, 209 Zheng Zhenduo, 76–77, 128–129 Zhengsuke (Correcting Popular Culture Branch, Qing Board of Police), 204–205 Zhi Shui, “My Opinions on the Abolition of Prostitution,” 190–191 Zhideshe (Society for Pursuing

Index Virtues), 140, 149–151, 149n50. See also Kuideshe zhihun (directed marriage), 43 Zhong Nan hai (Central and South Seas), 118 Zhongguo chengshi chubanshe (Chinese City Press), 7n19 Zhongguo furenhui (Chinese Women’s Association), 30 Zhonghe Theater, 113, 140 Zhonghua jiaoyu wenhua jijin dongshihui (Chinese Educational and Cultural Foundation Board), 36 Zhongshan Park, 110 Zhou Enlai, 150 Zhou Yue, 143n28 Zhou Zongwu, “The Abolishing Prostitution Movement,” 192–193 Zhu Guihong, 159 Zhu Yuanzhang, 63 Zhu Zhenxin, 191–192 Zhuocangying (Catching flies), 143 Zhushikou Avenue, 140, 140n18, 168 Zisun niangniang (Offspring Lady), 104 Ziyou baojian (The precious mirror of freedom), 154 zoos, 114, 115, 119, 132 zoubaibing (walking out a hundred illnesses), 102 zouhanchuan (boating dance), 106 zouqiao moding (crossing bridges and rubbing gate nails), 102 zuobao (sitting contractors), 139–140

277

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY INSTITUTE OF EAST ASIAN STUDIES The Institute of East Asian Studies was established at the University of California, Berkeley, in the fall of 1978 to promote research and teaching on the cultures and societies of China, Japan, and Korea. The institute unites several research centers and programs, including the Center for Buddhist Studies, the Center for Chinese Studies, the Center for Japanese Studies, the Center for Korean Studies, the Group in Asian Studies, the East Asia National Resource Center, and the Inter-University Program for Chinese Language Studies. Director: Associate Director: Executive Committee:

Wen-hsin Yeh Martin Backstrom Martin Backstrom, Patricia Berger, John Connelly, Penelope Edwards, Thomas B. Gold, Andrew Jones, Hong Yung Lee, John Lie, Kevin O’Brien, Kaiping Peng, Robert Sharf, Alan Tansman, Steven Vogel, Bonnie Wade, Duncan Williams, Wen-hsin Yeh

CENTER FOR BUDDHIST STUDIES Chair: Robert Sharf CENTER FOR CHINESE STUDIES Chair: Andrew Jones CENTER FOR JAPANESE STUDIES Chair: Duncan Williams CENTER FOR KOREAN STUDIES Chair: John Lie GROUP IN ASIAN STUDIES Chair: Bonnie Wade EAST ASIA NATIONAL RESOURCE CENTER Director: Wen-hsin Yeh INTER-UNIVERSITY PROGRAM FOR CHINESE LANGUAGE STUDIES Executive Director: Thomas B. Gold

KOREA RESEARCH MONOGRAPHS (KRM)

20. Chung, Chai-sik. A Korean Confucian Encounter with the Modern World: Yi Hang-no and the West. 1995. 21. Kang, Myung Hun. The Korean Business Conglomerate: Chaebol Then and Now. 1996. 24. Lancaster, Lewis R., and Richard K. Payne, eds. Religion and Society in Contemporary Korea. 1997. 25. Shin, Jeong-Hyun. The Trap of History: Understanding Korean Short Stories. 1998. 26. Pai, Hyung Il, and Timothy R. Tangherlini, eds. Nationalism and the Construction of Korean Identity. 1998. 27. Hesselink, Nathan, ed. Contemporary Directions: Korean Folk Music Engaging the Twentieth Century and Beyond. 2001. 28. Choi, Byonghyon, trans. The Book of Corrections: Reflections on the National Crisis during the Japanese Invasion of Korea, 1592–1598. 2002. 29. Dilling, Margaret Walker. Stories inside Stories: Music in the Making of Korean Olympic Ceremonies. 2007. 30. Kim, Hyuk-Rae, and Bok Song, eds. Modern Korean Society: Its Development and Prospect. 2007. 31. Park, Hun Joo. Diseased Dirigisme: The Political Sources of Financial Policy toward Small Business in Korea. 2007. 32. Finch, Michael, trans. Min Yŏnghwan: The Selected Writings of a Late Chosŏn Diplomat. 2008. 33. Pettid, Michael. Unyŏng-jŏn: A Love Affair at the Royal Palace of Chŏson Korea. 2009. 34. Park, Pori. Trial and Error in Modernist Reforms: Korean Buddhism under Colonial Rule. 2009. RESEARCH PAPERS AND POLICY STUDIES (RPPS)

40. Hao, Yufan. Dilemma and Decision: An Organizational Perspective on American China Policy Making. 1997. 41. Wakeman, Jr., Frederic, and Wang Xi, eds. China’s Quest for Modernization: A Historical Perspective. 1997. 42. West, Loraine A., and Yaohui Zhao, eds. Rural Labor Flows in China. 2000. 43. Sharma, Shalendra D., ed. The Asia-Pacific in the New Millennium: Geopolitics, Security, and Foreign Policy. 2000. 44. Arase, David, ed. The Challenge of Change: East Asia in the New Millennium. 2003. 45. Kang, Sungho, and Ramón Grosfoguel, eds. Geopolitics and Trajectories of Development: The Cases of Korea, Japan, Taiwan, and Puerto Rico. 2010. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS

Han, Theodore, and John Li. Tiananmen Square Spring 1989: A Chronology of the Chinese Democracy Movement. 1992. Scalapino, Robert. From Leavenworth to Lhasa: Living in a Revolutionary Era. 2008. Thompson, Phyllis L., ed. Dear Alice: Letters Home from American Teachers Learning to Live in China. 1998. Zhan, Kaidi. The Strategies of Politeness in the Chinese Language. 1992. PUBLICATIONS WITH THE SOCIETY FOR THE STUDY OF EARLY CHINA

Loewe, Michael, ed. Early Chinese Texts: A Bibliographical Guide. 1993. Qiu, Xigui. Chinese Writing. Trans. OF Gilbert L. Mattos and Jerry Norman. 2000. INSTITUTE EAST ASIAN STUDIES von Falkenhausen, Lothar, ed. Japanese Scholarship on Early China, 1987–1991: UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA ● BERKELEY Summaries from Shigaku zasshi. 2002.

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