The Project Gutenberg eBook of The True Story of Ah Q

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The True Story of Ah Q

Author: Xun Lu

Release date: May 5, 2008 [eBook #25332]

Language: Chinese

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25332

Credits: Produced by Chi-Tang Lin

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRUE STORY OF AH Q ***

Produced by Chi-Tang Lin

The True Story of Ah Q

Chapter One: Preface

　　I have been wanting to write the true story of Ah Q for more than a year or two. But while I was about to write, I would think back, and this shows that I am not one to "establish a legacy of words"—for since time immemorial, the immortal pen must transmit the immortal man, and so the man is transmitted through the writing, and the writing through the man—in the end, who relies on whom for transmission gradually became unclear, and finally it came down to writing the story of Ah Q, as if there were a ghost in my thoughts.

　　Yet to write this perishable piece, I felt tremendous difficulty the moment I set pen to paper. First was the title of the piece. Confucius said, "If names are not correct, words will not be in accord"—this ought to be given the utmost attention. The categories for biographies are numerous: biography, autobiography, inner biography, unofficial biography, separate biography, family biography, brief biography... but unfortunately none of them fit. A "biography"? This piece is not to be placed among the many eminent figures in the "official history." An "autobiography"? I am not Ah Q. If I call it an "unofficial biography," then where is the "inner biography"? If I use "inner biography," Ah Q is certainly no immortal. A "separate biography"? Ah Q has never received a presidential decree ordering the National History Office to establish his "official biography"—although the English official history contains no "biography of a gambler," and the literary master Dickens also wrote a book called The Gambler's Biography, but what is permissible for a literary master is not permissible for the likes of us. As for a "family biography," I do not know whether Ah Q and I share the same clan, nor have I been entrusted by his descendants; or a "brief biography," then Ah Q has no other "grand biography." In short, this piece is indeed an "official biography," but considering my writing, because the style is lowly, the language used by "people who pull carts and sell bean milk," I dare not presume to call it that. So from the cliché of the novelists who are not counted among the Three Religions and Nine Schools—"enough of idle talk, let us return to the true story"—I take the two characters "true story" as the title, even if it is easily confused on the surface with the "true transmission" in The True Transmission of Calligraphy written by the ancients, I care not.

　　Second, according to the general rule for biographies, the opening should usually be "So-and-so, styled such-and-such, a native of such-and-such a place," but I do not know Ah Q's surname. Once, he seemed to be surnamed Zhao, but by the next day it had become blurred. That was when Mr. Zhao's son had passed the county examination, and the gongs were clanging the news into the village. Ah Q, having just drunk two bowls of yellow wine, was waving his arms and stamping his feet, saying that this reflected great glory on him too, because he and Mr. Zhao were originally of the same clan, and if one reckoned carefully, he was in fact three generations senior to the scholar. At the time, several bystanders did indeed listen with some solemn respect. But who would have known that the next day the village constable would summon Ah Q to Mr. Zhao's house; the moment the old gentleman saw him, his face flushed crimson, and he roared: "Ah Q, you scoundrel! Do you claim to be of my clan?"

　　Ah Q did not open his mouth.

　　The more Mr. Zhao looked at him, the angrier he grew. He strode forward a few steps and said: "How dare you talk nonsense! How could I have a clansman like you? Are you surnamed Zhao?"

　　Ah Q did not speak, and tried to step backward; Mr. Zhao sprang at him and gave him a slap on the face.

　　"How could you be surnamed Zhao! — You are not worthy of the name Zhao!"

　　Ah Q did not argue that he was indeed surnamed Zhao, but only touched his left cheek with his hand and withdrew with the village constable; outside, he was again scolded by the constable, and he thanked the constable with two hundred wen for wine. Those who knew of it all said that Ah Q was too absurd, going to invite a beating himself; he probably was not surnamed Zhao, and even if he truly were surnamed Zhao, with Mr. Zhao present, he should not have spoken such nonsense. After that, no one ever mentioned his clan again, so I ultimately never learned what Ah Q's surname really was.

　　Third, I also do not know how Ah Q's name should be written. While he was alive, everyone called him Ah Quei, but after his death, no one called him Ah Quei anymore, so how could there be any matter of recording it on bamboo and silk? If we are to speak of recording it on bamboo and silk, this essay must be the first instance, and so I have encountered this first difficulty at the outset. I am utterly at a loss as to whether Ah Quei should be written as Ah Gui or Ah Gui. If his courtesy name were Yueting, or if he had celebrated his birthday in the eighth month, then he would surely be Ah Gui; but since he had no courtesy name—perhaps he had one, only no one knew of it—and had never sent out invitations for a birthday celebration, writing it as Ah Gui would be arbitrary. Again, if he had had an elder or younger brother named Afu, then he would surely be Ah Gui; but he was alone in the world, so writing it as Ah Gui would also lack supporting evidence. As for other obscure characters with the sound Quei, none could be made to fit. Previously, I had asked the son of Mr. Zhao, the cultivated talent, about this matter; who would have thought that a man so broadly learned as he would also be utterly at a loss, but according to his conclusion, it was because Chen Duxiu had founded New Youth and advocated foreign script, so that the national essence had perished and there was no way to investigate further. My last resort was to entrust a fellow townsman to search the case records of Ah Q's offenses; it was eight months before a reply came, saying that there was no one in the records whose name sounded like Ah Quei. I do not know whether this was because there truly was no such person, or because no search had been made, but I had no other means. Fearing that the phonetic alphabet was not yet in general use, I had no choice but to use foreign script, writing his name as Ah Quei according to the common English spelling, abbreviated as Ah Q. This borders on blindly following New Youth, for which I am myself quite apologetic, but since even the cultivated talent did not know, what better course was open to me?

　　Fourth is the question of Ah Q's native place. If his surname were Zhao, then according to the old custom of boasting of one's commandery name, one could follow the annotation in The Hundred Family Surnames with Commandery Names and say, "a man of Longxi Tianshui," but unfortunately this surname was not very reliable, and so his native place also became somewhat uncertain. Although he lived mostly in Weizhuang, he often lodged elsewhere as well, so he could not be called a man of Weizhuang; even if one were to say, "a man of Weizhuang," it would still deviate from the proper method of historiography.

　　What I can take some comfort in is that there remains one character, "Ah," which is perfectly correct and free from any defect of forced interpretation or borrowing, and may well be submitted for the correction of the learned. As for the rest, they are beyond the capacity of my shallow learning to investigate, and I can only hope that the disciples of Mr. Hu Shih, who has a historical and textual research obsession, may in time discover many new clues; but I fear that by then my The True Story of Ah Q may already have long since vanished.

　　The above may serve as the preface.

　　Chapter 2: A Brief Account of Victories

　　Ah Q's name and native place were not the only things that were somewhat vague; even his earlier life story was vague. This was because the people of Weizhuang, when it came to Ah Q, only wanted his help and only made fun of him, never paying any attention to his life story. And Ah Q himself did not speak of it, except when he had quarrels with others, when he would occasionally glare and say, "We were much better off in the past than you! What do you think you are?" Ah Q had no home and lived in the Tutelary God's Temple in Weizhuang; nor did he have a fixed occupation, only doing odd jobs for people—reaping wheat when there was wheat to reap, pounding rice when there was rice to pound, and poling boats when there were boats to pole. When the work lasted a little longer, he might stay at the temporary master's house, but he would leave as soon as it was done. Thus, when people were busy, they would still remember Ah Q, but what they remembered was the work, not his life story; and when they were idle, they would have forgotten even Ah Q long ago, let alone his life story. Only once did an old man praise him, saying, "Ah Q is truly capable!" At that moment Ah Q, bare-armed and lazily skinny, was standing right in front of him, and others could not tell whether the words were sincere or mocking, but Ah Q was very pleased.

　　Ah Q was also very self-respecting; all the residents of Weizhuang were beneath his notice entirely, so much so that he even regarded the two scholar candidates with an air of disdain, as if they were not worth a smile. Now, a scholar candidate was one who might in the future become a scholar; Mr. Zhao and Mr. Qian were greatly respected by the villagers, and apart from being wealthy, this was because they were both fathers of scholar candidates. Yet Ah Q alone, in spirit, showed them no particular reverence, thinking to himself: "My son will be much better off than that!" Moreover, having been to town several times, Ah Q naturally became even more self-conceited, but he also held the townspeople in great contempt. For instance, a stool made of a wooden board three feet long and three inches wide was called a long bench in Weizhuang, and he also called it a long bench, but the townspeople called it a narrow bench. He thought: "That is wrong, ridiculous!" When frying big-headed fish, the people of Weizhuang would add scallion leaves half an inch long, but the townspeople would add finely shredded scallion threads. He thought: "This too is wrong, ridiculous!" Yet the people of Weizhuang were truly unsophisticated, laughable country folk—they had never seen the town's fried fish!

　　Ah Q, having been "well-off in the past," was discerning and "truly capable," and was almost a "perfect man" by nature; but unfortunately he still had some physical defects. The most vexing of these was that on his scalp there were several ringworm scars of unknown origin. Though these were on his own body, Ah Q himself seemed to regard them as hardly worth mentioning, for he avoided saying the word "ringworm" and all words with a similar sound. Later, extending this taboo, he also avoided "light" and "bright," and eventually even "lamp" and "candle." Whenever the taboo was violated, whether intentionally or not, Ah Q would fly into a rage, his scars turning red all over. Measuring his opponent, if the man was slow of speech, he would curse; if the man was weak, he would strike. But somehow, it was always Ah Q who came off worse. So he gradually changed his tactics, mostly resorting to glaring angrily instead.

　　Who would have thought that after Ah Q adopted his policy of glaring, the idlers of Weizhuang would only take greater pleasure in teasing him. The moment they met him, they would feign surprise and say, "Oh, it's getting bright."

　　Ah Q, as was his custom, grew angry and glared at them.

　　"So there's a safety lamp here!" they said, quite unafraid.

　　Ah Q could do nothing but think of other words of retaliation: "You're not even worthy..." At this moment, the thing on his head seemed to him a noble and glorious ringworm scar, not an ordinary one. But as mentioned above, Ah Q was discerning, and he immediately knew this clashed with the "taboo," so he did not continue.

　　The idlers would not stop, only provoking him, until at last it came to blows. Ah Q was defeated in form, seized by his yellow queue, and his head bumped against the wall four or five times with loud thuds. Only then did the idlers, satisfied and triumphant, walk away. Ah Q stood for a moment, thinking to himself, "After all, I was beaten by my son; the world today is really in a terrible state..." And so, equally satisfied and triumphant, he too walked away.

　　What Ah Q thought in his heart, he later often spoke aloud, so that almost everyone who joked with Ah Q came to know he had this method of spiritual victory. Thereafter, whenever they seized his yellow queue, they would first say to him, "Ah Q, this is not a son beating his father, but a man beating an animal. Say it yourself: a man beating an animal!"

　　Ah Q, gripping the root of his queue with both hands, tilted his head and said, "Beating a worm—how about that? I am a worm—now will you let go?"

　　But even though he was a worm, the idlers would not let go, and still bumped his head five or six times against some nearby place, until at last, satisfied and triumphant, they walked away, thinking that this time Ah Q had truly met his misfortune. Yet within less than ten seconds, Ah Q also walked away satisfied and triumphant, feeling that he was the first person able to belittle and debase himself; apart from 'self-belittlement and self-debasement,' the rest was 'the first.' Was not the zhuangyuan also 'the first'? 'What are you, after all?'

　　After Ah Q had overcome his resentful enemies by such wonderful methods, he would happily run to the tavern, drink a few bowls of wine, joke and bicker with others, and, having won again, return contentedly to the Tutelary God's Temple, where he would lay down his head and fall asleep. If he had money, he would go gamble at dice; a crowd of people would squat on the ground, and Ah Q, sweating all over, would squeeze in among them. His voice was the loudest:

　　"Green Dragon, four hundred!"

　　"Hey, open up!" The banker, also sweating all over, lifted the lid of the box and sang. "Heaven's Gate, corner return! People and through-hall empty—there they are! Bring over Ah Q's coppers!"

　　"Through-hall, one hundred—one hundred fifty!"

　　And so, amid such chanting, Ah Q's money gradually flowed into the waists of other sweating figures. In the end, he could only squeeze out of the crowd and stand behind, watching, anxious on others' behalf, until the game broke up; then, reluctant, he would return to the Tutelary God's Temple, and the next day go to work with swollen eyes.

　　But truly, as the saying goes, "The old man at the frontier lost his horse—who knows but that it was a blessing?" [21]—Ah Q, unfortunately, won once, and that nearly proved his undoing.

　　It was the evening of the Weizhuang village festival [22]. That night, as was customary, there was a theatrical performance, and near the stage, as was also customary, there were many gambling stalls. The gongs and drums of the performers seemed to Ah Q to be ten li away; he could hear only the banker's chanting. He won again and again, copper coins turning into jiao coins, jiao coins into silver dollars, and the silver dollars piling up in stacks. He was exceedingly elated: "Two dollars on Heaven's Gate!"

　　He did not know who was fighting whom, or why. Amid a dizzying blur of curses, blows, and footsteps, he finally picked himself up—the gambling stalls were gone, the people were gone too, and several parts of his body seemed to ache, as if he had taken a few punches and kicks. A few people stared at him in surprise. Feeling as if he had lost something, he walked into the Tugu Temple, and when he had collected himself, he realized that his pile of silver dollars was gone. The gambling stalls at the festival were mostly run by people from outside the village—where could he go to seek redress?

　　A very white, very shiny pile of silver dollars! And they had been his—now they were gone! Even if he told himself that his son had taken them, he still felt disquieted; and even if he told himself he was a worm, he still felt disquieted: this time, he truly tasted the bitterness of defeat.

　　But he immediately turned defeat into victory. He raised his right hand and, with all his might, slapped himself twice on the face—it stung hotly; after the slaps, he became calm and composed, as if the one who had been slapped was himself, and the one who had been slapped was another self, and before long it seemed as if he himself had slapped another—though it still stung hotly—and he lay down, content and triumphant.

　　He fell asleep.

Chapter Three: A Further Account of His Victories

　　Yet although Ah Q often triumphed, it was only after Mr. Zhao slapped his face that he became famous.

　　After paying the village constable two hundred coppers for wine money, he lay down in indignation, and later thought: "The world nowadays is too outrageous—a son beating his own father..." Then he suddenly thought of Mr. Zhao's prestige, and now that Mr. Zhao was his son, he gradually began to feel pleased with himself. He got up and, singing "The Young Widow Visits Her Husband's Grave" [23], went to the tavern. At that moment, he felt that Mr. Zhao was of a higher rank than others.

　　Strange to say, from then on, everyone indeed seemed to treat him with extraordinary respect. As for Ah Q, he might have thought it was because he was Mr. Zhao's father, but in fact it was not so. According to the general custom in Weizhuang, if Ah Qi struck Ah Ba, or Li Si struck Zhang San, it was never considered anything worth mentioning; only when it involved a famous personage like Mr. Zhao did it enter the mouths of the people. Once it entered their mouths, then the striker became famous, and the one struck also gained fame by relying on that protection. As for the fault lying with Ah Q, that naturally went without saying. Why so? Because Mr. Zhao could not be wrong. But since Ah Q was wrong, why did everyone seem to treat him with extraordinary respect? This was hard to understand; if one were to stretch the point, perhaps it was because Ah Q claimed to be of the same clan as Mr. Zhao, and although he had been beaten, everyone still feared there might be some truth in it, and so it was safer to show him some respect. Otherwise, it was like the sacrificial offering in the Confucian temple [24]: though it was the same as pigs and sheep, all being beasts, yet once the sage had partaken of it with his chopsticks, the scholars of old dared not touch it lightly.

　　After this, Ah Q was quite pleased with himself for many years.

　　One spring day, he was walking tipsily in the street, and in the sunlight at the foot of a wall he saw Wang Hu there, bare-armed, catching lice. Suddenly he felt itchy all over himself. This Wang Hu, scabby and bearded, was called Wang the Scabby Beard by everyone else; but Ah Q, omitting the word 'scabby,' held him in great contempt. Ah Q's reasoning was that scabs were nothing remarkable—only that thick, bristly beard was truly novel and hard to look at. So he sat down side by side with him. Had it been any other idler, Ah Q would not have dared to sit down so casually. But beside this Wang Hu, what was there to fear? To be honest, his condescending to sit down was in itself an honor to the man.

　　Ah Q also took off his tattered lined jacket and searched through it, but whether because it was newly washed or because he was careless, after much effort he caught only three or four lice. He looked at Wang Hu, who was catching one after another, two after three, and popping them into his mouth with a crisp crackling sound.

　　At first Ah Q was disappointed, but then he grew indignant: if even the contemptible Wang Hu had so many, while he himself had so few, what a great loss of face this was! He very much wanted to find one or two big ones, but there were none at all; after much trouble he caught a medium-sized one, and thrust it bitterly between his thick lips, biting down hard with a pop—yet it was not as loud as Wang Hu's. His ringworm scars flushed red all over; he flung his clothes to the ground, spat, and said, 'This vermin!'

　　'Scabby dog, who are you cursing?' Wang Hu raised his eyes contemptuously and said.

　　Although Ah Q had recently been comparatively respected and had grown more arrogant himself, he still felt timid when meeting the idlers he was used to fighting with; only this time he was exceptionally brave. How dare such a thing with a face full of beard speak so rudely?

　　"Whoever recognizes it, I curse!" He stood up, hands on his hips.

　　"Are your bones itching?" Wang Hu also stood up, putting on his clothes.

　　Ah Q thought he was going to run away, so he rushed in and threw a punch. Before the fist reached him, it was caught, and with a single pull, Ah Q stumbled forward and was immediately seized by Wang Hu by the queue, who dragged him to the wall to bang his head as usual. "A gentleman uses his tongue, not his hands!" Ah Q said, tilting his head.

　　Wang Hu did not seem to be a gentleman; he paid no attention and banged his head five times in a row, then gave a forceful push, sending Ah Q tumbling more than six feet away, before leaving in satisfaction.

　　In Ah Q's memory, this was probably the first humiliation of his life, because Wang Hu, with his defect of a bristly beard, had always been the object of his ridicule and had never ridiculed him, let alone laid hands on him. And now he had actually done so—quite unexpected. Could it really be, as the market gossip said, that the emperor had abolished the imperial examinations and no longer wanted xiucai or juren, so the Zhao family had lost their prestige, and consequently they too had come to look down on him?

　　Ah Q stood there at a loss.

　　A figure approached from afar—his adversary had arrived. This was another man Ah Q detested most: the eldest son of Mr. Qian. He had previously gone to the city to attend a foreign-style school, and somehow had later gone to Japan. Half a year afterward, he returned home with straight legs and no queue. His mother had wept bitterly through more than a dozen scenes, and his wife had jumped into the well three times. Later, his mother told everyone: “This queue was cut off by some villain who got him drunk. He could have become a high official, but now he can only wait until it grows back.” Yet Ah Q refused to believe this and insisted on calling him “the fake foreign devil,” also “one who collaborates with foreigners.” Whenever he saw him, he would secretly curse him in his heart.

　　What Ah Q especially “deeply detested and utterly rejected” was his false queue. A queue that was false meant the man had lost the right to be considered human; and his wife, who had not jumped into the well a fourth time, was no good woman either.

　　This “fake foreign devil” drew near.

　　“Baldhead. Donkey…” Ah Q had always cursed only in his heart, never aloud, but this time, because he was so angry and wanted revenge, the words slipped out softly before he could stop them.

　　Unexpectedly, this baldhead came striding over with a yellow-lacquered stick—the one Ah Q called a funeral staff—and Ah Q realized in that instant that he was probably going to be hit. He quickly tensed his muscles, hunched his shoulders, and waited. Sure enough, with a crack, it seemed to land squarely on his head.

　　“I meant him!” Ah Q pointed at a nearby child, trying to explain himself. Whack! Whack, whack!

　　In Ah Q’s memory, this probably counted as the second humiliation of his life. Fortunately, after the whacks sounded, it seemed to him that a matter was settled, and he actually felt a bit lighter. Moreover, that heirloom treasure called “forgetfulness” began to take effect. He walked slowly, and by the time he reached the tavern door, he was already somewhat cheered up.

　　But coming toward him was the young nun from Jingxiu Nunnery. Even in ordinary times, Ah Q would curse at the sight of her—how much more so after such humiliation? At once memories arose in him, and with them a hostile spirit.

　　“I didn’t know why I had such bad luck today—it turns out it was because I met you!” he thought.

　　He stepped up to her and spat loudly: “Hah, pah!”

　　The young nun paid him no attention at all, keeping her head down and walking on. Ah Q came close to her side, suddenly reached out to touch her freshly shaved scalp, and said with a silly grin, “Baldhead! Go on back—the monk is waiting for you…”

　　“How dare you lay hands on me…” the nun said, her face flushed red, hurrying away as she spoke.

　　The people in the tavern burst out laughing. Seeing his exploit appreciated, Ah Q grew even more elated:

　　“If the monk can touch you, why can’t I?” He pinched her cheek.

　　The people in the tavern burst into loud laughter. Ah Q, even more pleased, and in order to satisfy those connoisseurs, gave another hard twist before letting go.

　　This battle of his had long since made him forget Wang Hu and also the fake foreign devil; it seemed as if he had avenged all of today's bad luck. And strangely, he felt even lighter than after the cracking sounds of his patting, as if he were floating and about to fly away. "Ah Q, may you die without descendants!" came the tearful voice of the young nun from afar. "Hahaha!" Ah Q laughed with great satisfaction.

　　"Hahaha!" The people in the tavern also laughed with nine-tenths satisfaction.

Chapter Four: The Tragedy of Love

　　Some say that certain victors only feel the joy of triumph when their opponents are like tigers or eagles; if they are like sheep or chicks, the victory seems dull. And there are other victors who, after overcoming all, seeing the dead dead and the surrendered surrendering, with "Your servant trembles with fear and deserves death," find themselves without enemies, without rivals, without friends—only themselves above, alone, solitary, desolate, and lonely—and thus feel the sorrow of victory. But our Ah Q was not so feeble; he was forever triumphant. This may perhaps be one piece of evidence that China's spiritual civilization surpassed the whole world.

　　Look, he was floating as if about to fly away!

　　Yet this victory made him feel somewhat different. He floated about for quite a while, then drifted into the Tugu Temple, where he would ordinarily lie down and immediately start snoring. But who would have thought that this night he could hardly close his eyes; he felt that his thumb and second finger were a bit odd—as if they were smoother and more slippery than usual. He could not tell whether some slippery substance from the young nun's face had stuck to his fingers, or whether his fingers had become slippery from rubbing against her face…

　　"Ah Q, may you die without descendants!"

　　Ah Q heard these words again in his ears. He thought: Indeed, he should have a woman, for if he died without descendants, no one would offer him a bowl of rice… he should have a woman. Now, "of the three unfilial acts, having no offspring is the greatest" [27], and "the ghosts of the Ruo'ao family would go hungry" [28] are also great sorrows of life; so his thoughts were in fact all in accord with the sacred classics and worthy traditions, only unfortunately he later could not "restrain his wandering heart" [29].

　　"Woman, woman!…" he thought.

　　"…The monk may touch… woman, woman!… woman!" he thought again.

　　We cannot know at what hour Ah Q fell asleep that night. But probably from then on he always felt that his fingers were a little slippery, and so he always felt a little elated; "Wom…" he thought.

　　From this one point alone, we can see that women are harmful creatures.

　　Chinese men, for the most part, could originally have become sages and worthies, but unfortunately they have all been ruined by women. The Shang dynasty was brought to ruin by Daji [30]; the Zhou was wrecked by Baosi; the Qin... although history has no explicit record, we may assume it was because of a woman, and that assumption is probably not far wrong; and Dong Zhuo was indeed done to death by Diaochan.

　　Ah Q was originally an upright man. Although we do not know whether he ever received instruction from any enlightened master, he had always been extremely strict regarding the "great barrier between men and women" [31], and possessed a righteous vigor in rejecting heterodox things—such as the young nun and the fake foreign devil. His doctrine was: all nuns must have illicit relations with monks; a woman walking outside must be trying to seduce wild men; a man and a woman talking together must be up to some mischief. To punish them, he would often glare at them angrily, or loudly utter some "condemning thoughts" [32] words, or, if they were in a secluded spot, throw a small stone at them from behind.

　　Who would have thought that when he was approaching the age of "establishing himself" [33], he would be made to feel elated by the young nun. This elated state of mind was something that, according to the dictates of propriety, should not exist—therefore women are truly detestable. If the young nun's face had not been smooth and slippery, Ah Q would not have been bewitched; and if the young nun's face had been covered with a layer of cloth, Ah Q would not have been bewitched either—five or six years earlier, he had pinched the thigh of a woman in the crowd beneath the stage, but because a layer of trousers had separated them, he had not felt elated afterward—but the young nun was different, and this too shows how detestable heterodox things are.

　　"Woman..." Ah Q thought.

　　He would always watch carefully for women whom he believed were "certainly trying to seduce wild men," but she never smiled at him. He would also listen carefully to women who spoke with him, but she never brought up anything about illicit affairs. Oh, this too was one of the detestable aspects of women: they all pretended to be "proper and virtuous."

　　That day, Ah Q had been pounding rice at Mr. Zhao's house all day. After supper, he sat in the kitchen smoking his long pipe. At any other house, he could have gone home after supper, but the Zhao household ate early, and although it was a strict rule that no lamps were to be lit—everyone went to bed right after eating—there were occasional exceptions: one was when Mr. Zhao had not yet passed the xiucai examination, when he was permitted to light a lamp to read his essays; the other was when Ah Q came to do short-term work, when he was permitted to light a lamp to pound rice. Because of this exception, Ah Q sat in the kitchen smoking his long pipe before he began pounding the rice.

　　Amah Wu, the only female servant in Mr. Zhao's household, having washed the bowls and dishes, also sat down on the long bench and chatted idly with Ah Q: "The mistress hasn't eaten for two days, because the master wants to buy a concubine..." "Woman... Amah Wu... this young widow..." Ah Q thought.

　　"Our young mistress is going to give birth in the eighth month..."

　　"Woman..." Ah Q thought.

　　Ah Q put down his pipe and stood up.

　　"Our young mistress..." Amah Wu continued to chatter on.

　　"I want to sleep with you, I want to sleep with you!" Ah Q suddenly rushed forward and knelt down before her.

　　For a moment there was utter silence.

　　"Ah ya!" Amah Wu was stunned for a moment, then suddenly began to tremble, and ran out shrieking, crying as she ran, and it seemed she was soon sobbing.

　　Ah Q, kneeling facing the wall, was also stunned; then, supporting himself with both hands on the empty bench, he slowly stood up, feeling that something had gone wrong. He was indeed somewhat uneasy now, and hastily stuck his pipe into his belt, intending to go pound rice. With a thud, he received a heavy blow on the head; he quickly turned around, and there stood the successful candidate holding a large bamboo pole before him.

　　"You're rebelling, you... you..."

　　The large bamboo pole came down on him again. Ah Q raised both hands to protect his head, and the blow landed squarely on his knuckles, which hurt quite a bit. He rushed out of the kitchen door, feeling as if another blow had struck his back.

　　"Turtle's egg!" the successful candidate cursed from behind in the official dialect.

　　Ah Q rushed into the rice-pounding yard, standing alone, still feeling his finger ache, still remembering "Turtle's egg," because this phrase was never used by the villagers of Weizhuang, being reserved exclusively for the wealthy who had seen officialdom, so he was especially afraid, and the impression was all the deeper. But at this moment, his thoughts of "that woman..." were gone. Moreover, after the beating and cursing, it seemed as if one matter had been concluded, and he felt, on the contrary, as if nothing were obstructing him, so he set to work pounding rice. After pounding for a while, he grew hot, and stopped to take off his clothes.

　　As he took off his clothes, he heard a great commotion outside. Ah Q had always loved watching excitement, so he followed the sound and went out. Following the noise, he gradually found his way to the inner courtyard of Mr. Zhao's residence. Though it was dim in the twilight, he could make out many people, including the mistress of the Zhao household, who had not eaten for two days, as well as Mrs. Zou from next door, and the true members of the clan, Zhao Baiyan and Zhao Sichen.

　　The young mistress was just dragging Amah Wu out of the servants' quarters, saying as she did so, "Come outside... don't hide in your room brooding..."

　　"Everyone knows you are proper... but you must never, ever think of taking your own life." Mrs. Zou also chimed in from the side.

　　Amah Wu just kept crying, interspersed with words, but they could not be clearly made out.

　　Ah Q thought: "Hmph, interesting, what is this little widow up to now?" He wanted to find out, so he approached Zhao Sichen. At that moment, he suddenly saw Mr. Zhao rushing toward him, holding a large bamboo pole in his hand. Seeing that large bamboo pole, he suddenly realized that he had once been beaten, and that this commotion seemed somehow related. He turned and fled, trying to escape back to the rice-pounding yard, but the bamboo pole blocked his way, so he turned and fled again, naturally making his way out the back gate, and before long, he was already inside the Tutelary God's Temple.

　　Ah Q sat for a while, his skin beginning to prickle with goosebumps. He felt cold, for although it was spring, the night still held a lingering chill, not suitable for going bare-armed. He also remembered that his cloth shirt was left at the Zhao household, but if he went to retrieve it, he deeply feared the scholar's bamboo pole. However, the village constable came in.

　　"Ah Q, damn it! You even go so far as to flirt with the Zhao family's servants—this is practically rebellion. You've cost me my night's sleep, damn it!..."

　　And so he lectured him in this manner, and Ah Q naturally had nothing to say. In the end, because it was nighttime, he should give the village constable double the usual wine money of four hundred cash. Ah Q had no ready money, so he used a felt cap as collateral, and moreover, five conditions were agreed upon: First, tomorrow he must bring a pair of red candles—each weighing one jin—and a bundle of incense to the Zhao residence to apologize.

Second, the Zhao household would invite a Taoist priest to exorcise the ghost of the hanged woman, and the expenses would be borne by Ah Q.

Third, Ah Q was henceforth forbidden to set foot across the threshold of the Zhao residence.

Fourth, if any misfortune should befall Amah Wu hereafter, Ah Q alone would be held responsible.

Fifth, Ah Q was not to demand his wages or the cloth shirt again.

　　Ah Q naturally agreed to all of this, but unfortunately he had no money. Fortunately, since it was already spring, the cotton quilt was no longer needed, so he pawned it for two thousand large cash to fulfill the terms of the agreement. After kowtowing bare-armed, he still had a few coins left over; he did not redeem the felt cap and spent it all on drink. But the Zhao family did not burn incense or light candles, for the lady of the house could use them when she worshipped Buddha, so they were kept. The tattered cloth shirt was mostly made into diapers for the child the young mistress gave birth to in the eighth month, and the small tattered remainder was used for the soles of Amah Wu's shoes.

Chapter Five: The Problem of Livelihood

　　After Ah Q finished his rites, he returned to the Tutelary God's Temple. The sun had gone down, and gradually he felt something strange in the world. After thinking it over carefully, he finally realized the cause lay in his own bare arms. He remembered that his tattered lined jacket was still there, so he draped it over himself and lay down. When he opened his eyes again, the sun was already shining on the top of the western wall. He sat up and muttered, "Damn it!"

　　After he got up, he still wandered the streets as before, and though it was not as painful as being bare-armed, he gradually began to feel that something was amiss in the world. It seemed that from this day on, the women of Weizhuang suddenly became shy; as soon as they saw Ah Q approaching, each one would dart into her doorway. Even Mrs. Zou, who was nearly fifty, scrambled about with the others, and even called her eleven-year-old daughter inside. Ah Q found this very strange and thought, "These creatures have suddenly started putting on airs like young ladies. These sluts..."

　　But it was only after many days that he felt even more strongly that something was wrong in the world. First, the tavern would no longer extend him credit; second, the old man who managed the Tutelary God's Temple said some nonsense that seemed to be telling him to leave; third, although he could not remember exactly how many days, it was certainly many days that no one had come to call him for odd jobs. The tavern refusing credit he could endure; the old man urging him to go, nagging and grumbling, he could also let pass; but no one coming to call him for odd jobs made Ah Q's stomach ache with hunger—this was indeed a very damnable business.

　　Ah Q could bear it no longer, so he had to go to his old customers' homes to inquire—though he was forbidden to set foot across the threshold of the Zhao household—but even there the situation was different: a man would always come out, wearing a look of extreme annoyance, and wave his hand as if replying to a beggar, saying:

　　"Nothing, nothing! You get out!"

　　Ah Q found it ever more strange. He thought, these households had always needed help, and it was unlikely that they should suddenly have nothing to do now; there must be some trickery behind it. By careful inquiry, he learned that when they had work, they all called for Little D. This Little D was a poor young fellow, thin and feeble, who in Ah Q's eyes ranked below Wang Hu; who would have thought that this fellow had actually snatched away his rice bowl? So Ah Q's anger this time was unlike any ordinary anger, and as he walked along fuming, he suddenly raised his hand and shouted: "I Hold a Steel Whip and I'll Beat You!..."

　　A few days later, he actually encountered Little D in front of the screen wall of the Qian residence. When enemies meet, their eyes are especially sharp. Ah Q advanced to meet him, and Little D also stood still.

　　"Beast!" said Ah Q, glaring with fury, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. "I am a worm, is that good enough?..." said Little D.

　　This humility only made Ah Q angrier, but since he had no steel whip in hand, he could only rush forward and reach out to pull Little D's queue. Little D guarded the root of his own queue with one hand while using the other to pull Ah Q's queue, and Ah Q likewise used his free hand to guard the root of his own queue. In the eyes of the former Ah Q, Little D had never been worth mentioning, but having lately gone hungry, he had grown thin and feeble, no less so than Little D, and so the two were evenly matched; four hands pulling at two heads, both bent at the waist, cast a blue rainbow-shaped shadow on the whitewashed wall of the Qian residence, for as long as half an hour.

　　"Enough, enough!" said the onlookers, probably trying to mediate.

　　"Good, good!" said the onlookers, and whether it was mediation, praise, or incitement, no one could tell.

　　But neither of them paid any heed. When Ah Q advanced three steps, Little D retreated three steps, and both stood still; when Little D advanced three steps, Ah Q retreated three steps, and again both stood still. After about half an hour—for Weizhuang had few chiming clocks, it was hard to say, perhaps twenty minutes—steam rose from their hair, sweat ran down their foreheads, Ah Q's grip loosened, and at the same instant Little D's grip also loosened; they straightened up simultaneously, stepped back simultaneously, and both pushed their way out of the crowd.

　　"Remember this, damn it..." said Ah Q, turning his head back.

　　"Damn it, remember this..." said Little D, also turning his head back.

　　This battle of dragon and tiger seemed to have no victor or vanquished, and it was unknown whether the onlookers were satisfied, for no one made any comment, and still no one came to call Ah Q for short-term work.

　　One day was quite mild, with a gentle breeze that carried a hint of summer, yet Ah Q felt cold; but this he could endure, for his first concern was hunger. His cotton quilt, felt cap, and cloth shirt had long since been sold, and next he had sold his padded jacket; now he had trousers, which he absolutely could not part with; and he had a tattered lined jacket, which he was certain could not fetch any money unless given away to be cut into shoe soles. He had long thought of picking up a sum of money on the road, but had yet to see any; he thought of suddenly finding some money in his own shabby room, and looked about him in a fluster, but the room was empty and bare. So he resolved to go out seeking food.

　　As he walked along the road seeking food, he saw familiar taverns and familiar steamed buns, but he passed them all by—not only without pausing, but without even wanting them. What he sought was no longer this kind of thing; what he sought, he himself did not know.

　　Weizhuang was not a large town to begin with, and he soon walked its length. Beyond the village lay mostly paddy fields, with the tender green of newly transplanted seedlings filling the view, dotted with a few round, moving black specks—the farmers working the fields. Ah Q did not pause to appreciate this pastoral idyll but simply kept walking, for he intuitively knew that it had little to do with his way of seeking food. At last, however, he reached the wall outside the Jingxiu Nunnery.

　　Around the nunnery were also paddy fields, with its whitewashed walls standing out against the fresh green, and behind the low earthen wall lay a vegetable garden. Ah Q hesitated for a moment, looked all around, and saw no one. He then climbed onto the low wall, grasping at the fleeceflower vines, but the earth kept crumbling down with a rustle, and Ah Q's feet trembled as well; at last, grasping a mulberry branch, he jumped inside. Inside it was indeed lush and verdant, but there seemed to be no yellow wine, steamed buns, or anything else edible of that sort. Against the western wall was a bamboo grove, with many bamboo shoots beneath, only a pity they were all uncooked; moreover, the rapeseed had long gone to seed, the mustard greens were about to flower, and the bok choy was quite old.

　　Ah Q felt as wronged as a scholar candidate who had failed the examinations, and he walked slowly toward the garden gate, when suddenly he was overjoyed—this was clearly a bed of old radishes. He squatted down and began to pull them up, when a very round head suddenly poked out from the gate, then immediately withdrew—it was clearly the young nun. The likes of the young nun were people Ah Q had always regarded as beneath notice, but one must take a step back to think in worldly matters, so he hastily pulled up four radishes, twisted off the green leaves, and tucked them into the front of his jacket. But the old nun had already come out.

　　"Amitabha, Ah Q, how dare you jump into the garden to steal radishes! ... Aiya, what a sin, aiyo, Amitabha! ..."

　　"When did I ever jump into your garden to steal radishes?" Ah Q said, looking around as he walked.

　　"Just now... isn't this it?" The old nun pointed at the front of his jacket.

　　"Is this yours? Can you make it answer you? You..."

　　Before Ah Q finished speaking, he turned and ran; what came after him was a very large, fat black dog. It had been at the front gate, but somehow it had come to the back garden. The black dog ran after him, growling, and was about to bite Ah Q's leg, when fortunately a radish fell from the front of his jacket. The dog, startled, paused for a moment, and Ah Q had already climbed up the mulberry tree, straddled the earthen wall, and rolled out of the wall with both himself and the radishes. Only the black dog remained, howling at the mulberry tree, while the old nun recited her Buddhist prayers.

　　Afraid that the nun might let the black dog out again, Ah Q picked up the radishes and walked away, picking up a few small stones along the way, but the black dog did not reappear. Ah Q then threw away the stones, ate as he walked, and thought to himself, there is nothing to be found here, so he might as well go into town...

　　By the time he had finished eating the three radishes, he had already made up his mind to go into town.

Chapter Six: From Restoration to Decline

　　When Ah Q was seen again in Weizhuang, it was just after the Mid-Autumn Festival that year. People were astonished, saying that Ah Q had returned, and then they thought back, wondering where he had been before. On his previous trips to town, Ah Q had generally told people about them with great enthusiasm, but this time he did not, so no one had paid any attention. He might have told the old man who managed the Tutelary God's Temple, but according to Weizhuang's old custom, only the trips to town made by Mr. Zhao, Mr. Qian, and the young Master Scholar counted as events. The Fake Foreign Devil did not even count, let alone Ah Q; therefore the old man did not spread the news for him, and so the society of Weizhuang had no way of knowing.

　　But Ah Q's return this time was quite different from before, and indeed worthy of astonishment. As dusk was falling, he appeared before the tavern with sleepy eyes. He approached the counter, reached into his belt, and brought out a handful of silver and copper coins, which he threw onto the counter, saying, "Cash! Bring me some wine!" He was wearing a new lined jacket, and at his waist hung a large cloth bag, so heavy that it pulled his belt down into a deep, deep curve. According to Weizhuang's old custom, when people saw someone slightly remarkable, they would rather be respectful than slow to show it. Now, although they clearly knew it was Ah Q, because he was different from the Ah Q in the tattered lined jacket, as the ancients said, "A scholar who parts for three days must be looked at with new eyes," so the waiter, the shopkeeper, the drinkers, and the passersby all naturally assumed an expression of suspicion mixed with respect. The shopkeeper first nodded, then followed up with conversation: "Ah Q, you're back!"

　　"I'm back."

　　"Rich, rich! You were—at..."

　　"I went to town!"

　　This piece of news spread throughout Weizhuang by the next day. Everyone was eager to know the history of the restoration of Ah Q with his ready cash and new lined jacket, so in the tavern, the teahouse, and under the temple eaves, the story was gradually ferreted out. The result was that Ah Q gained a new measure of awe.

　　According to Ah Q, he had been working in the household of Master Juren. At this, all who heard grew solemn. This gentleman's surname was originally Bai, but since he was the only Provincial Graduate in the whole town, there was no need to add the surname—when one spoke of the Provincial Graduate, it was he. This was so not only in Weizhuang but throughout the surrounding hundred li, and people almost all thought that his name was simply Master Juren. To have worked in the household of such a man was certainly worthy of respect. But according to Ah Q, he was no longer willing to work there, because this Master Juren was really too "damn it all." At this, all who heard sighed with mixed satisfaction, for Ah Q had not originally been worthy of working in Master Juren's household, and yet his not working there was a pity.

　　According to Ah Q, his return was also due to his dissatisfaction with the townspeople—for they called long benches narrow benches, and fried fish with shredded scallions—and, as he had recently observed, the women's way of walking was not very graceful either. Yet there were occasional things about them worthy of admiration: for instance, the villagers of Weizhuang could only play thirty-two-piece bamboo dominoes, and only the Fake Foreign Devil could play mahjong, whereas in town even the little turtles' spawn could play it expertly. What was the Fake Foreign Devil compared to a mere twelve- or thirteen-year-old little turtle's spawn in town? It was like a minor devil before the King of Hell. At this, all who heard blushed. "Have you ever seen a beheading?" Ah Q said. "Aiyo, it was a fine sight. Beheading revolutionaries. Aiyo, fine, fine..." He shook his head, and his spittle flew onto the face of Zhao Sichen, who sat directly opposite. At this, all who heard grew solemn. But Ah Q then looked around, and suddenly raising his right hand, brought it straight down upon the nape of Wang Hu's neck, who had been listening with his neck stretched out in rapt attention, and said:

　　"Whack!"

　　Wang Hu jumped in fright, and at the same time, quick as lightning, drew in his head, while those who heard were both startled and delighted. From then on, Wang Hu was dazed and muddled for many days, and dared not come near Ah Q again; the others felt the same.

　　Ah Q's position in the eyes of the people of Weizhuang at this time, though one could not say it surpassed that of Mr. Zhao, might be called about the same, and that would probably be no exaggeration.

　　Yet before long, Ah Q's great name once again spread throughout the inner chambers of Weizhuang. Though in Weizhuang only the Qian and Zhao families had large houses, and nine out of ten of the rest were humble dwellings, still an inner chamber was an inner chamber, so this counted as something remarkable. When the women met, they were sure to say that Mrs. Zou had bought a blue silk skirt from Ah Q—old it certainly was, but it had cost only nine dimes. And Zhao Baiyan's mother—or some said Zhao Sichen's mother, which remains to be verified—had also bought a child's bright red foreign-style shirt, seven-tenths new, for only three hundred cash at ninety-two to the string. So they all waited eagerly with longing eyes to see Ah Q; those lacking silk skirts wanted to buy silk skirts from him, those wanting foreign-style shirts wanted to buy foreign-style shirts from him. Not only did they no longer avoid him when they saw him, but sometimes after Ah Q had already passed by, they would still chase after him and call him to a stop, asking: "Ah Q, do you still have any silk skirts? No? A shirt would do as well—have you any?"

　　At last this spread from the humble dwellings into the great houses. For Mrs. Zou, in her triumph, had invited Mrs. Zhao to admire her silk skirt, and Mrs. Zhao had told Mr. Zhao about it, praising it to the skies. So Mr. Zhao, at the dinner table, discussed the matter with the young Master Scholar, and they agreed that Ah Q was indeed somewhat strange, and that they should be careful about their doors and windows; but as for his goods, who knew what else he might have to sell—perhaps he had some fine things after all. Moreover, Mrs. Zhao herself was just then wanting to buy a cheap and good fur vest. So the family resolved to send Mrs. Zou at once to find Ah Q, and for this purpose they created a third kind of exception: that evening, for once, they would specially permit the oil lamp to be lit.

　　The oil lamp burned low, and still Ah Q did not come. All the members of the Zhao household were anxious, yawning, some vexed that Ah Q was so elusive, others blaming Mrs. Zou for not being diligent enough. Mrs. Zhao was afraid he would not dare to come because of the conditions set in the spring, but Mr. Zhao thought this need not be worried about, for it was he who had sent for him. And indeed, Mr. Zhao's foresight was right—Ah Q finally followed Mrs. Zou inside.

　　"He only said he had nothing, nothing. I told him to come and say so himself, and he still kept saying it, and I said..." Mrs. Zou said, walking along out of breath.

　　"Sir!" Ah Q called out with a half-smile, and stopped under the eaves.

　　"Ah Q, I hear you've been making your fortune outside," Mr. Zhao said, pacing away while his eyes surveyed Ah Q from head to foot. "That's very good, very good indeed. This... I hear you have some old things... you might bring them all for us to look at... It's not for any other reason, but because I was just thinking of..."

　　"I already told Mrs. Zou. It's all gone."

　　"Gone?" Mr. Zhao could not help blurting out. "How could it be gone so quickly?"

　　"Those things belonged to friends, and there weren't many to begin with. They bought some..."

　　"There must be a little left, surely."

　　"Now there's only a door curtain left."

　　"Then bring the door curtain for us to see," Mrs. Zhao said hastily.

　　"Well then, bring it tomorrow, that's all," Mr. Zhao said, though with less enthusiasm. "Ah Q, in future, whenever you have anything, bring it to us first for a look..."

　　"And we'll never offer you less than anyone else would!" said the young Master Scholar. The young Master's wife quickly glanced at Ah Q's face to see whether he had been moved.

　　"I want a fur vest," said Mrs. Zhao.

　　Although Ah Q assented, he went out languidly, and it was uncertain whether he took the matter to heart. This greatly disappointed Mr. Zhao, who was so indignant and worried that he stopped yawning. The scholar was also much displeased with Ah Q's attitude, and said that this Turtle's egg must be guarded against, or perhaps it would be better to instruct the village constable not to allow him to live in Weizhuang. But Mr. Zhao thought otherwise, saying that this might also incur resentment, and moreover, people engaged in this kind of business generally followed the principle that "an eagle does not prey near its own nest," so there was no need to worry about the village itself; one only needed to be a bit more vigilant at night. Hearing this paternal instruction, the scholar found it very reasonable and immediately withdrew his proposal to expel Ah Q, and furthermore urged Mrs. Zou to be sure not to mention this conversation to anyone.

　　But the next day, Mrs. Zou dyed the blue skirt black and spread the word about Ah Q's suspicious points, though she indeed did not mention the part about the scholar wanting to expel him. Nevertheless, this was already very disadvantageous to Ah Q. First, the village constable came to his door and took away his door curtain; Ah Q said it was for Mrs. Zhao to see, but the constable did not return it, and moreover demanded a monthly tribute of money. Second, the villagers' awe of him suddenly changed in form—though they still dared not take liberties, they showed a marked inclination to keep their distance, and this manner differed from their previous wariness of his coming to "make trouble," being now mixed with a measure of "keeping at a respectful distance."

　　Only a group of idlers were still determined to get to the bottom of Ah Q's story. Ah Q, for his part, made no attempt to conceal or gloss over it, and proudly recounted his experiences. It was only then that they learned he had been but a minor player—unable even to scale the wall, let alone enter the hole, standing outside to receive the goods. One night, he had just received a bundle and was reaching in again, when before long he heard a great uproar from inside; he hurriedly fled, climbing out of the city wall that very night and escaping back to Weizhuang, and from then on dared not go back to thieving. Yet this story was even more disadvantageous to Ah Q, for the villagers had kept him at a respectful distance out of fear of incurring resentment—who would have thought he was merely a thief who no longer dared to steal? This was truly a case of "there is nothing to fear from him."

　　Chapter Seven: Revolution

　　On the fourteenth day of the ninth month of the third year of the Xuantong reign—that is, the very day Ah Q sold his cloth bag to Zhao Baiyan—at the fourth watch of the night, a large black-canopied boat arrived at the river landing of the Zhao family estate. The boat drifted in from the pitch darkness, and the villagers, being fast asleep, knew nothing of it; when it departed, near dawn, quite a few people saw it. According to the results of the prying investigation, it was learned that the boat belonged to none other than Master Juren!

　　That boat carried great unease into Weizhuang, and before noon the hearts of the whole village were already stirring. The boat's mission had been kept very secret by the Zhao family, but in the teahouses and wine shops it was said that the revolutionaries were about to enter the city and that Master Juren had come to the countryside to take refuge. Only Mrs. Zou disagreed, saying that those were merely a few old clothes chests that Master Juren had wished to store, but that Mr. Zhao had already sent them back. In fact, Master Juren and Zhao the Successful Candidate had never known each other, and in reason there could be no bond of "sharing hardships" between them; moreover, since Mrs. Zou was a neighbor of the Zhao family and her knowledge was closer at hand, she was probably the one in the right.

　　Yet the rumors flourished, saying that although Master Juren had seemingly not come in person, he had sent a long letter and arranged a connection of "distant relatives" with the Zhao family. Mr. Zhao mulled it over in his mind, felt that it could not do him any harm, and so kept the chests, which were now stuffed under his wife's bed. As for the revolutionaries, some said that they had entered the city that very night, each one in white helmets and white armor—wearing mourning for Emperor Chongzhen.

　　Ah Q's ears had long since heard the phrase "revolutionaries," and this year he had even seen with his own eyes the killing of a revolutionary. But he held a notion, from he knew not where, that revolutionaries meant rebellion, and rebellion meant making trouble for him, and so he had always "deeply detested and utterly rejected" them. Who would have thought that this could make Master Juren, famous for a hundred li around, so afraid? At this, Ah Q could not help but feel a certain "yearning" for it; moreover, the flustered expressions of that pack of birds and beasts in Weizhuang gave Ah Q even greater satisfaction.

　　"Revolution, fine then," thought Ah Q, "revolutionizing these damn creatures' lives—too detestable! Too hateful!... Even I am going to surrender to the revolutionaries."

　　Ah Q had been hard up lately, and was probably feeling somewhat aggrieved; moreover, having drunk two bowls of wine on an empty stomach at noon, he got drunk all the faster, and as he walked along thinking, he felt light and buoyant again. Somehow or other, it suddenly seemed that the revolutionaries were none other than himself, and all the people of Weizhuang were his captives. In his elation, he could not help shouting at the top of his voice, "Rebellion! Rebellion!"

　　All the people of Weizhuang looked at him with frightened eyes. This kind of pitiful look was something Ah Q had never seen before, and the sight of it made him feel as comfortable as drinking snow water in the sixth month. He walked on even more happily, shouting, "Fine... I'll have whatever I want, and I'll love whomever I please. De-de, clang-clang!"

　　"I regret not, drunk I wrongly beheaded my brother Zheng, I regret not, ya-ya-ya..."

　　"De-de, clang-clang, de, clang-ling-clang!"

　　"I hold a steel whip and I'll beat you..."

　　The two men of the Zhao household and their two genuine clansmen were also standing at the main gate discussing the revolution. Ah Q did not see them, and with his head held high, he went straight past singing.

　　"De-de..."

　　"Old Q," Mr. Zhao called out timidly as he approached, in a low voice.

　　"Clang-clang," Ah Q, never expecting his name to be linked with the word "Old," took it for some other remark that had nothing to do with him, and simply went on singing. "De, clang, clang-ling-clang, clang!" "Old Q."

　　"I regret not..."

　　"Ah Q!" The scholar had no choice but to call him by his name outright.

　　Only then did Ah Q stop, and tilting his head, asked, "What?"

　　"Old Q... now..." Mr. Zhao, however, was at a loss for words, "Now... making a fortune, are you?"

　　"A fortune? Naturally. I'll have whatever I want..."

　　"Ah... Brother Q, poor friends like us needn't worry..." Zhao Baiyan said nervously, as if trying to sound out the revolutionaries.

　　"Poor friends? You're always richer than I am." With that, Ah Q went on his way.

　　Everyone fell silent, at a loss. Father and son Zhao went home, and that evening discussed the matter until the lamps were lit. When Zhao Baiyan got home, he pulled the cloth bag from his waist and handed it to his woman to hide at the bottom of a chest.

　　Ah Q flew about in high spirits, and by the time he returned to the Tugu Temple, the wine had completely worn off. That evening, the old temple keeper was unexpectedly cordial and offered him tea; so Ah Q asked him for two cakes, and after finishing them, requested a spent four-liang candle and a wooden candlestick. He lit the candle and lay down alone in his little room. He felt an indescribable freshness and joy; the flame flickered and danced as if it were the Lantern Festival, and his thoughts too began to leap: "Rebellion? How amusing... a band of revolutionaries in white helmets and white armor will come, all carrying broadswords, steel whips, bombs, foreign rifles, three-pointed double-edged blades, and hooked spears, and as they pass the Tugu Temple they will call out, 'Ah Q! Come along, come along!' And so we will go together..." At that moment, what a sight the pack of wretched men and women of Weizhuang would be, kneeling and crying, "Ah Q, spare us!" Who would listen to them! The first to die should be Little D and Mr. Zhao, then the scholar, and then the fake foreign devil... ...should a few be spared? Wang Hu might have been kept, but no, not even him...

　　"Goods... walk straight in and open the chests: sycee, silver dollars, foreign-style shirts... the scholar's wife's Ningbo-style bed [43] should be moved first to the Tugu Temple, and then set out the Qian family's tables and chairs—or perhaps use the Zhao family's. I won't lift a finger myself; I'll have Little D do the moving, and he'd better move fast, or he'll get a slap in the face..." Zhao Sichen's younger sister is truly ugly. Mrs. Zou's daughter can wait a few years. The fake foreign devil's wife sleeps with men who have no queue—hah, no good thing! The scholar's wife has a scar on her eyelid... Amah Wu hasn't been seen for a long time; who knows where she is—too bad her feet are so big.

　　Before Ah Q had quite finished his thoughts, he was already snoring; the four-liang candle had burned down less than half an inch, its red flame lighting his open mouth.

　　"Hohoh!" Ah Q suddenly cried out, lifting his head and looking wildly around; when he saw the four-liang candle, he lay back down and fell asleep again.

　　The next day he rose very late, and when he went out into the street to look around, everything was just as before. He was still hungry, and he thought and thought, but could not recall anything; yet he suddenly seemed to have an idea, and slowly strode off, half deliberately, half absentmindedly, toward the Jingxiu Nunnery.

　　The nunnery was as quiet as in springtime, with its white walls and pitch-black door. He thought for a moment, then went up and knocked; a dog barked inside. He hastily picked up a few broken bricks and knocked again with more force, and only when the black door was covered with many dents did he hear someone coming to open it.

　　Ah Q hastily gripped his brick and spread his legs in a fighting stance, ready to do battle with the black dog. But the nunnery door only opened a crack, and no black dog rushed out from it; looking in, there was only the old nun.

　　"What do you want now?" she said, greatly startled.

　　"The revolution... do you know?" Ah Q said very vaguely.

　　"Revolution, revolution—it's already been revolutioned once. What do you want to do to us?" the old nun said, her eyes red.

　　"What?" Ah Q was astonished.

　　"Don't you know? They've already been here and revolutioned!"

　　"Who?" Ah Q was even more astonished.

　　"The scholar and the foreign devil!"

　　Ah Q was caught completely off guard and could not help but be taken aback; seeing that he had lost his momentum, the old nun quickly shut the door. When Ah Q pushed again, it would not open, and when he knocked again, there was no answer.

　　That had happened that very morning. Zhao the Successful Candidate was quick with news, and as soon as he learned that the revolutionaries had entered the town during the night, he coiled his queue on top of his head and went early to visit the Fake Foreign Devil, with whom he had never been on good terms. This was the time of "all joining in reform," so they talked very congenially and immediately became comrades of like mind, agreeing to go and make revolution together. They thought and thought, and only then hit upon the idea that there was a dragon tablet inscribed "Long live the Emperor, ten thousand, ten thousand years" in the Jingxiu Nunnery, which ought to be done away with at once; so they went straight to the nunnery to make revolution. Because the old nun came to block them and spoke a few words, they treated her as if she were the Manchu government and gave her quite a few cudgel blows and knuckle raps on the head. After they left, the nun pulled herself together and took stock: the dragon tablet was indeed already smashed on the ground, and moreover the Xuande censer in front of the statue of Guanyin was missing.

　　Ah Q did not learn of this until later. He rather regretted having slept in, but he also deeply resented that they had not come to summon him. Then he took a step back to think: "Could it be that they still don't know I've already surrendered to the revolutionaries?"

Chapter Eight — No Revolution Allowed

　　The hearts of the people of Weizhuang grew calmer day by day. According to the news that came, although the revolutionaries had entered the town, there was not much great difference after all. The county magistrate was still in his old post, though renamed to something or other, and the Provincial Graduate had also taken up some office—these titles, the people of Weizhuang could not explain—and the officer in charge of the troops was still the old battalion commander as before. Only one frightening thing was that a few bad revolutionaries were mixed in among them making trouble, and on the second day they set about cutting queues, and it was said that Seven Pounds the boatman from the neighboring village had fallen into their hands and been made to look quite unlike a human being. But this was not yet a great terror, for the people of Weizhuang rarely went to town anyway, and even if one occasionally thought of going, he would immediately change his mind and not encounter this danger. Ah Q had also thought of going to town to seek out his old friends, but upon hearing this news, he had no choice but to give up the idea.

　　But Weizhuang could not be said to be without reform. A few days later, those who coiled their queues on top of their heads gradually increased in number; as has been said long before, the first was naturally Scholar Mao, then Zhao Sichen and Zhao Baiyan, and later Ah Q. If it had been summer, everyone coiling their queues on top of their heads or tying them in a knot would have been nothing remarkable, but now it was late autumn, so this situation of "practicing summer customs in autumn" could not but be regarded by the queue-coilers as supremely wise and resolute, nor could it be said in Weizhuang to be unrelated to reform.

　　Zhao Sichen came walking along with the back of his head empty and bare, and those who saw him shouted loudly, "The revolutionaries have come!"

　　Ah Q heard this and felt envious. Although he had long known the great news of the scholar coiling his queue, he had never thought that he could do the same himself; only now, seeing Zhao Sichen doing it too, did he get the idea of following suit and make up his mind to carry it out. He used a bamboo chopstick to coil his queue on top of his head, hesitated for a long while, and only then plucked up the courage to walk out.

　　As he walked in the street, people looked at him but said nothing. At first Ah Q was quite displeased, and later he became very indignant. He had been losing his temper easily of late; in fact, his life was not at all harder than before the rebellion—people treated him politely, and the shops no longer demanded cash on the spot. Yet Ah Q always felt himself too downcast: since he had joined the revolution, things should not have been like this. Moreover, one time he saw Little D, which made him angrier than ever, nearly bursting with rage.

　　Little D had also coiled his queue on top of his head, and even used a bamboo chopstick, just like him. Ah Q had never imagined that he would dare do such a thing, and he absolutely would not permit him to do so! What was Little D, after all? He very much wanted to grab him on the spot, snap his chopstick, let down his queue, and slap him a few times across the face, by way of punishing him for forgetting the eight characters of his birth and daring to become a revolutionary. But in the end he let him off, merely glaring at him and spitting out a mouthful of saliva, saying, "Bah!"

　　These past few days, the only one who had gone to town was the Imitation Foreign Devil. Zhao the Successful Candidate had originally intended to rely on the connection from storing his trunks to pay a personal visit to the Successful Provincial Candidate, but because of the danger of having his queue cut, he gave up the idea. He wrote a letter in the 'Yellow Umbrella' format and entrusted it to the Imitation Foreign Devil to take to town, also asking him to introduce him so he could join the Freedom Party. When the Imitation Foreign Devil returned, he demanded four silver dollars back from the scholar, and the scholar then had a silver peach badge hanging on the front of his jacket; all the people of Weizhuang were astonished and impressed, saying this was the rank button of the Persimmon-Oil Party, worth as much as a Hanlin Academician; Mr. Zhao therefore suddenly became vastly richer and more influential, far beyond the time when his son had first passed the examination as a scholar, so he looked down on everyone, and when he saw Ah Q, he treated him with considerable disdain. Ah Q was already nursing his indignation and feeling snubbed at every moment, and when he heard this tale of the silver peach badge, he immediately understood the reason for his own neglect: to make revolution, merely declaring surrender would not do; coiling up his queue would not do either; the first thing was still to make connections with the revolutionaries. In all his life he knew of only two revolutionaries—one in town had long since been killed with a 'swish,' and now only the Imitation Foreign Devil remained. Apart from hurrying to consult with the Imitation Foreign Devil, there was no other path left for him.

　　The Qian residence's main gate was wide open, so Ah Q timidly slipped inside. Once he entered, he was startled to see the Imitation Foreign Devil standing in the center of the courtyard, dressed in a black Western-style outfit, with a silver peach badge hanging on his chest, and holding in his hand the stick that Ah Q had once been taught a lesson by. His queue, which had grown to over a foot long, was now unbraided and draped over his shoulders and back, his hair disheveled like the Immortal Liu Hai [50]. Facing him stood Zhao Baiyan and three idlers, listening with utmost reverence.

　　Ah Q approached quietly and stood behind Zhao Baiyan, thinking of greeting him but not knowing how to address him: calling him the Imitation Foreign Devil was certainly out of the question, 'foreigner' was not right either, and 'revolutionary' was also unsuitable; perhaps he should call him Mr. Foreigner.

　　Mr. Foreigner, however, did not notice him, for he was speaking with great animation, rolling his eyes: "I'm an impatient man, so whenever we meet, I always say: Brother Hong [51]! Let's get moving! But he always answers 'No' [52]!—That's a foreign word; you wouldn't understand it. Otherwise we would have succeeded long ago. Yet this is precisely where his prudence shows. He asked me again and again to go to Hubei, but I haven't agreed yet. Who would want to work in this little county town? ..."

　　"Hmm... well..." Ah Q waited for him to pause slightly, then finally spoke up with all the courage he could muster, though for some reason he still did not call him Mr. Foreigner.

　　The four men listening to the speech turned around in surprise to look at him. Only then did Mr. Foreigner notice him: "What?"

　　"I..."

　　"Get out!"

　　"I want to join..."

　　"Get out of here!" Mr. Foreigner raised his mourning staff.

　　Zhao Baiyan and the idlers all shouted: "The gentleman says get out, and you still won't listen!"

　　Ah Q shielded his head with his hand and instinctively fled out the door; Mr. Foreigner did not pursue him. After running more than sixty paces, he slowed to a walk, and then worry welled up in his heart: Mr. Foreigner would not allow him to revolt, and he had no other path; from now on he could never hope for men in white helmets and white armor to come for him. All his ambitions, aspirations, hopes, and prospects were wiped out at a stroke. As for the idlers spreading the story and making him a laughingstock to Little D, Wang Hu, and their ilk—that was a secondary matter.

　　He seemed never to have experienced such boredom. Even the coiling of his queue now felt meaningless and contemptible to him; for the sake of revenge, he very much wanted to let his queue down at once, but in the end he did not. He drifted about until nightfall, bought two bowls of wine on credit, and drank them down; gradually he cheered up, and fragments of white helmets and white armor appeared once more in his thoughts.

　　One day, as usual, he idled about until late at night, and only when the tavern was about to close did he stroll back to the Tutelary God's Temple.

　　Bang! Crack!

　　Suddenly he heard a strange sound, not like firecrackers. Ah Q, who was always fond of excitement and meddling in others' affairs, groped his way forward in the darkness. There seemed to be footsteps ahead; as he listened, a man suddenly came fleeing toward him from the opposite direction. The moment Ah Q saw him, he hastily turned and followed in flight. When the man turned a corner, Ah Q turned too; after turning, the man stopped, and Ah Q stopped as well. He saw nothing behind him, and looking at the man, saw it was Little D. "What?" Ah Q was indignant.

　　"The Zhao... the Zhao family has been robbed!" Little D said, panting for breath.

　　Ah Q's heart thumped wildly. Little D spoke and went on his way; Ah Q, however, fled and stopped two or three times. But after all, he was a man who had done "this kind of business" before, and was unusually bold, so he saw what seemed to be many men in white helmets and white armor, carrying out boxes one after another, carrying out furniture, and carrying out the scholar's wife's Ningbo-style bed too—though indistinctly. He still wanted to go forward, but his feet would not move.

　　That night there was no moon, and Weizhuang lay very still in the darkness, as peaceful as in the time of the Emperor Xi. Ah Q stood watching until he grew annoyed with himself; it still seemed as before, with people coming and going, carrying out boxes, carrying out furniture, carrying out the scholar's wife's Ningbo-style bed... until he himself could hardly believe his eyes. But he was determined not to go forward, and returned instead to his temple.

　　The Tutelary God's Temple was even darker inside; he bolted the gate and groped his way into his own room. He lay there for a long while before he collected himself and began to think about his own situation: the men in white helmets and white armor had clearly arrived, yet they had not come to call on him; they had carried off many fine things, and none of it was his share—this was entirely the fault of the fake foreign devil, who would not let him join the rebellion; otherwise, how could it be that this time he had no share at all? The more Ah Q thought about it, the angrier he grew, until at last he was filled with bitter hatred and nodded venomously: "You won't let me rebel, only you can rebel? Damn the fake foreign devil—fine, you rebel! Rebellion is a crime punishable by beheading, and I'll file a complaint and see you dragged into the county seat and beheaded—your whole household executed—chop! chop!"

　　Chapter Nine: The Great Reunion

　　After the Zhao family was robbed, the people of Weizhuang were for the most part both pleased and alarmed, and Ah Q was likewise pleased and alarmed. But four days later, Ah Q was suddenly seized in the middle of the night and taken to the county seat. It happened to be a dark night; a squad of soldiers, a squad of militiamen, a squad of police, and five detectives arrived quietly in Weizhuang, and in the gloom surrounded the Tutelary God's Temple, setting up a machine gun directly opposite the gate; yet Ah Q did not rush out. For a long time there was no movement, and the Captain grew anxious; only after offering a reward of twenty thousand cash did two militiamen take the risk, climbing over the wall, and with help from within and coordination from without, they surged in all at once and dragged Ah Q out; it was not until they had hauled him out near the machine gun in front of the temple that he began to come to his senses.

　　By the time they reached the county seat it was already noon. Ah Q saw himself escorted into a shabby yamen, taken through five or six turns, and then pushed into a small room. He had barely stumbled when the gate of whole timber, made of entire logs, closed right at his heels; the other three sides were walls. Looking closely, he saw two other people in a corner of the room.

　　Although Ah Q was somewhat uneasy, he was not very distressed, because his bedroom in the Tutelary God's Temple was no better than this room. The other two seemed to be country folk, and gradually they began to strike up conversation with him. One said that the Successful Provincial Candidate was pressing him for old rent his grandfather had owed; the other did not know what he was there for. They asked Ah Q, and Ah Q answered readily, "Because I wanted to rebel."

　　In the afternoon he was dragged out through the gate again. When he reached the main hall, an old man with a completely shaven head sat at the head of it. Ah Q suspected he was a monk, but seeing a row of soldiers standing below and a dozen or so men in long gowns on either side—some with shaven heads like the old man, others with hair about a foot long hanging down their backs like the fake foreign devil—all with fierce faces glaring at him, he knew this man must have some standing, and his knees immediately and naturally loosened, and he knelt down. "Stand and speak! Don't kneel!" the men in long gowns all shouted.

　　Although Ah Q seemed to understand, he still felt he could not remain standing; involuntarily he crouched down, and in the end took advantage of the movement to change it into kneeling.

　　"Slavish nature!..." the man in the long gown said again with contempt, but he did not tell him to get up.

　　"Confess everything truthfully, and spare yourself suffering. I already know everything. If you confess, you can be released." The bald-headed old man fixed his gaze on Ah Q's face and spoke calmly and clearly. "Confess!" the men in long gowns also shouted loudly.

　　"I originally wanted to... come and surrender..." Ah Q thought muddled for a while, and only then spoke haltingly.

　　"Then why didn't you come?" the old man asked amiably.

　　"The fake foreign devil wouldn't allow me!"

　　"Nonsense! It's too late to say it now. Where are your accomplices now?" "What?..."

　　"The gang that robbed the Zhao family that night."

　　"They didn't come to call me. They moved away on their own." Ah Q became indignant when he brought it up.

　　"Where did they go? Tell me, and you'll be released." The old man became even more amiable. "I don't know... they didn't come to call me..."

　　But the old man gave a signal with his eyes, and Ah Q was again dragged back inside the gate. He was dragged out through the gate a second time, the next morning.

　　The scene in the main hall was just as before. The bald-headed old man still sat at the head, and Ah Q still knelt down.

　　The old man asked amiably, "Do you have anything else to say?"

　　Ah Q thought for a moment, had nothing to say, and so replied, "No."

　　Then a man in a long gown brought a sheet of paper and a brush before Ah Q, trying to force the brush into his hand. Ah Q was greatly startled at this moment, almost "his soul flew away and scattered": for this was the first time his hand had ever come into contact with a brush. He did not know how to hold it; but the man pointed to a place on the paper and told him to make his mark.

　　"I... I... don't know how to read." Ah Q grabbed the brush, and said in a frightened and ashamed voice.

　　"Well then, we'll make it easy for you—draw a circle!"

　　Ah Q was about to draw his circle, but the hand holding the brush kept trembling. So the man spread the paper on the ground for him, and Ah Q bent down, using all the strength of his life to draw the circle. He was afraid of being laughed at, and was determined to draw it round, but this wretched brush was not only very heavy, but also disobedient; just as it was trembling and nearly closing the loop, it suddenly jerked outward, and the circle came out shaped like a melon seed.

　　Ah Q was just feeling ashamed that his circle was not round, but the man did not mind at all, and had already snatched away the paper and brush; many people then grabbed him a second time and dragged him through the railing gate.

　　When he was taken into the prison enclosure a second time, he was not particularly upset. He thought that in the course of a man's life on earth, it was only natural that he should sometimes be dragged in and out, and sometimes be made to draw circles on paper; the only blot on his 'life story' was that the circle he drew was not round. But before long he had consoled himself, thinking: only a grandson would draw a perfectly round circle. And so he fell asleep.

　　That night, however, the Provincial Graduate could not sleep: he had quarreled with the Captain. The Provincial Graduate argued that the first priority was to recover the stolen goods, while the Captain insisted that the first priority was to make a public example of the prisoner. Of late the Captain had come to hold the Provincial Graduate in very little regard, and now he pounded the table and shouted, 'Punish one to warn a hundred! Look here—I've been a revolutionary for less than twenty days, and already there have been a dozen or more robberies, none of them solved. Where would my face be? Now that the case is solved, you come along with your pedantic notions. No! This is my affair!' The Provincial Graduate was greatly embarrassed, but he held his ground, saying that if the stolen goods were not recovered, he would immediately resign his post as Assistant Civil Affairs Commissioner. The Captain only replied, 'Please yourself!' And so the Provincial Graduate did not sleep at all that night—though fortunately the next day he did not in fact resign.

　　When Ah Q was dragged out through the prison gate for the third time, it was the morning of the day after the night the Provincial Graduate could not sleep. He was brought to the main hall, where the same bald-headed old man sat as usual; and Ah Q, as usual, knelt down.

　　The old man asked him very amiably, 'Do you have anything else to say?'

　　Ah Q thought for a moment, had nothing to say, and so replied, 'No.'

　　Many people in long gowns and short jackets suddenly put a white vest of foreign cloth on him, with some black characters on it. Ah Q was very aggrieved: because this looked very much like mourning attire, and wearing mourning attire was bad luck. But at the same time his two hands were bound behind his back, and at the same time he was dragged straight out of the yamen gate.

　　Ah Q was carried onto a cart without a canopy, and several men in short jackets sat together with him in the same place. The cart immediately began to move, with a squad of soldiers and militiamen carrying foreign rifles in front, and on both sides many onlookers with their mouths open; what was behind, Ah Q did not see. But he suddenly realized: wasn't this going to be a beheading? In his panic, his eyes went black, and in his ears there was a roaring sound. Yet he was not completely dazed; though sometimes he was anxious, at other times he was also calm; in his mind, it seemed that being born between heaven and earth, one might perhaps sometimes inevitably have one's head cut off.

　　He still recognized the road, and so was somewhat surprised: why were they not heading toward the execution ground? He did not know that this was a parade through the streets, a public exhibition. But even if he had known, it would have been the same; he would merely have thought that being born between heaven and earth, one might perhaps sometimes inevitably be paraded through the streets and publicly exhibited.

　　He realized then that this was the road to the execution ground, and that this must be the "swish" of the blade cutting off his head. He looked around him in a daze; all he saw were people swarming like ants, and inadvertently, in the crowd by the roadside, he caught sight of Amah Wu. It had been a long time; she was working in town now. Ah Q suddenly felt ashamed of his own lack of spirit: he had not even sung a few lines of opera. His thoughts whirled around in his mind like a cyclone: "The Young Widow Visits Her Husband's Grave" was not grand enough, and the "I regret..." from "Dragon-Tiger Fight" was too feeble; better to sing "I Hold a Steel Whip and I'll Beat You." At the same time he thought of raising his hand, but then remembered that both his hands were tied, and so he did not sing "I Hold a Steel Whip" either.

　　"In twenty years I'll be another..." Ah Q, in the midst of his confusion, "without a teacher, by his own learning," blurted out half a sentence he had never spoken before.

　　"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!" From the crowd came a sound like the howling of jackals.

　　The cart continued forward, and amid the cheers, Ah Q rolled his eyes to look at Amah Wu; it seemed she had not noticed him at all, but was merely staring in rapt attention at the foreign rifles on the soldiers' backs. Ah Q then looked again at the cheering crowd.

　　In that instant, his thoughts whirled around in his mind again like a cyclone. Four years before, he had encountered a hungry wolf at the foot of the mountain, which had followed him at a constant distance, never nearer, never farther, wanting to eat his flesh. He had been so frightened that he nearly died, and only because he happened to have a firewood knife in his hand was he able to take courage and hold out until he reached Weizhuang; but he remembered forever those wolf eyes, fierce yet timid, glittering like two will-o'-the-wisps, seeming to pierce through his skin and flesh from afar. And this time he saw eyes even more terrifying than any he had ever seen before, dull yet sharp, which had not only chewed up his words but also wanted to chew up something beyond his skin and flesh, following him forever at a constant distance, never nearer, never farther.

　　These eyes seemed to be joined together, and were already there biting at his soul. "Help, ..."

　　But Ah Q did not say it. His eyes had long since gone dark, and with a buzz in his ears, he felt his whole body burst apart like fine dust.

　　As for the effects at the time, the greatest fell instead upon the Provincial Graduate, for since no stolen goods were ever recovered, his entire household wailed aloud. Next came the Zhao family: not only had the scholar had his queue cut off by the bad revolutionaries when he went to town to report the matter to the authorities, but he had also spent twenty thousand cash in rewards, so his whole household wailed too. From that day on, they gradually all took on the air of adherents of the old regime.

　　As for public opinion, there was no dissent in Weizhuang; naturally everyone said Ah Q was bad, and his execution by firing squad was the proof of his badness—if he were not bad, how could he have been executed? But opinion in town was not favorable; most people were dissatisfied, thinking that execution by firing squad was not as good to watch as beheading. And what a ridiculous condemned man he was—after parading through the streets for so long, he had not even sung a single line of opera; they had followed him all that way for nothing.

　　December 1921.

　　[1] This piece was first published in serial form in the Beijing Morning Post Supplement, running from December 4, 1921, to February 12, 1922, appearing weekly or every other week, signed Ba Ren.

　　In 1925 the author wrote a short preface for the Russian translation of this story, later collected in Uncollected Works; in 1926 he also wrote an essay titled "The Making of The True Story of Ah Q," collected in Continuation of the Bad Luck Collection, both of which may be consulted.

　　[2] "Establishing words" One of the so-called "Three Immortalities" of ancient China. The Zuo Zhuan, in the twenty-fourth year of Duke Xiang, records the words of Shusun Bao, a nobleman of the state of Lu: "The highest is to establish virtue, next to establish merit, and next to establish words. Though these may long endure without being abandoned, this is what is called immortality."

　　[3] "If names are not correct, words will not be in accord" A saying found in the Analects, chapter Zilu.

　　[4] Inner biography—a type of biographical writing in fictional form. In his explanatory notes to the Japanese translator of The True Story of Ah Q, Masayoshi Yamagami, on March 3, 1931, the author stated: "In former times, Daoist priests often titled their accounts of immortals as 'inner biographies.'"

　　[5] "Official history"—historical works compiled or sanctioned by the government in the feudal era. During the reign of Emperor Qianlong in the Qing Dynasty, it was stipulated that the twenty-four dynastic histories, from Records of the Grand Historian to the History of the Ming Dynasty, all written in the annal-biography style, constituted the "official history."

　　The "biographies" section of the "official history" generally consists of accounts of notable figures.

　　[6] "Ordered the National History Office to establish an official biography"—in former times, when an important person loyal to the ruling class or a so-called celebrity died, the government would issue an imperial decree of commendation, and the text of the decree often ended with the phrase "ordered the National History Office to establish a biography." The institution responsible for compiling histories in successive dynasties had different names; in the Qing Dynasty it was called the National History Office. After the Revolution of 1911, both the Northern Warlords government and the Nationalist government continued to use this name.

　　[7] Dickens (C. Dickens, 1812–1870)—commonly rendered as Dickens, the English novelist. He authored David Copperfield, A Tale of Two Cities, and others. The Gambler's Biography, originally titled Rodney Stone, was written by the English novelist Conan Doyle (1859–1930), translated by Chen Dacheng and others, and was one of the Fiction Series published by the Commercial Press. In a letter to Wei Suyuan dated August 8, 1926, Lu Xun remarked: "The Gambler's Biography is the translated title of Rodney Stone, but it was written by C. Doyle. In The True Story of Ah Q, I mistakenly attributed it to Dickens."

　　[8] "People who pull carts and sell bean milk"—this was Lin Qinnan's phrase attacking the vernacular movement at the time. See note [27] on page 190 of this volume. In his explanatory notes to the Japanese translator Masayoshi Yamagami on March 3, 1931, the author stated: "'Pulling carts and selling bean milk' refers to pulling carts and selling soy milk, and it refers to the father of Mr. Cai Yuanpei. At that time, Mr. Cai Yuanpei was the president of Peking University and was also one of the advocates of the vernacular, so he too became a target of attack."

　　[9] Novelists not counted among the Three Religions and Nine Schools—the Three Religions refer to Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism; the Nine Schools refer to the nine schools of thought. In the "Treatise on Literature" of the History of the Han Dynasty, the ancient philosophers are divided into ten schools: the Confucian, Daoist, Yin-Yang, Legalist, Logician, Mohist, Strategist, Eclectic, Agricultural, and Novelist schools, with the statement: "Of the ten schools of philosophers, only nine are worth regarding." "The school of novelists originated from petty officials. It was created by those who gathered street gossip and hearsay... Therefore, the gentleman does not engage in it."

　　[10] The True Transmission of Calligraphy—a work on calligraphy in ten volumes by Feng Wu of the Qing dynasty. Here, "True Transmission" means "correct transmission."

　　[11] "Record on bamboo and silk"—this phrase comes from the "Annals of the Second Month of Spring" in Master Lü's Spring and Autumn Annals: "Record it on bamboo and silk, and transmit it to later generations." Bamboo refers to bamboo slips; silk refers to silk fabric. In ancient China, before the invention of papermaking, these materials were used for writing.

　　[12] Cultivated talent—that is, scholar. During the Eastern Han dynasty, to avoid the taboo name of Emperor Guangwu, Liu Xiu, the term scholar was changed to cultivated talent; later it was sometimes still used as an alternative name for scholar.

　　[13] Chen Duxiu founded New Youth and advocated foreign script—this refers to the discussion around 1918 in which Qian Xuantong and others, in the pages of New Youth magazine, debated abolishing Chinese characters and adopting Roman alphabet spelling. In his annotations sent to Yamagami Masayoshi on March 3, 1931, the author noted: "It was Qian Xuantong who advocated the use of Roman letters; saying it was Chen Duxiu here is an error by Scholar Mao."

　　[14] The Hundred Family Surnames with Commandery Names—The Hundred Family Surnames was one of the elementary reading primers used in old-style schools, compiled in the early Song dynasty. For ease of recitation, the surnames were strung together in four-character rhymed lines. In The Hundred Family Surnames with Commandery Names, each surname is annotated with the name of a commandery (the designation of an ancient administrative region), indicating where the distinguished clan bearing that surname once resided—for example, Zhao is linked to "Tianshui" and Qian to "Pengcheng."

　　[15] Hu Shih—that is, Hu Shi. In his "A Study of the Water Margin," written in July 1920, he described himself as having "historical and textual research obsessions."

　　[16] "Life story"—originally referring, in the feudal era, to a written account of a deceased person's lineage, native place, dates of birth and death, and deeds, usually composed by his family members. Here it is used loosely to mean one's experiences.

　　[17] The Tutelary God's Temple—that is, a temple to the local deity. "Tutelary" refers to the gods of the earth and of the five grains.

　　[18] "Scholar candidate"—also known as a "child student," referring, in the era of the imperial examinations, to one who studied for the examinations but had not yet passed to become a scholar.

　　[19] Zhuangyuan—In the era of the imperial examinations, the candidate who ranked first among the jinshi in the palace examination presided over by the emperor was called the zhuangyuan.

　　[20] Gambling at dice—A form of gambling. The person who runs the game is called the "banker"; the "Green Dragon," "Heaven's Gate," and "through-hall" mentioned below are all terms used in gambling at dice, referring to positions where bets are placed; "four hundred" and "one hundred fifty" are the amounts of money wagered.

　　[21] "The old man at the frontier lost his horse—who knows but that it was a blessing?"—According to the "Human World" chapter of Huainanzi: "There was a man skilled in divination who lived near the frontier. His horse ran away into the barbarian lands for no reason, and everyone came to console him. His father said, 'How do you know this will not turn out to be a blessing?' A few months later, the horse returned, bringing a fine barbarian steed with it, and everyone came to congratulate him. His father said, 'How do you know this will not turn out to be a misfortune?' The family was rich and had a fine horse, and the son loved riding; he fell and broke his thigh, and everyone came to console him. His father said, 'How do you know this will not turn out to be a blessing?' A year later, the barbarians launched a great invasion across the frontier; all the able-bodied men took up bows and fought, and nine out of ten of the frontier people died. Only this man, because he was lame, survived together with his father. Thus blessing turning into misfortune, and misfortune into blessing, has endless transformations and is unfathomably deep."

　　[22] Village festival—That is, a festival welcoming the gods in procession. See note [3] on page 337 of this volume.

　　[23] The Young Widow Visits Her Husband's Grave—A Shaoxing local opera popular at the time.

　　[24] Sacrificial offering—According to ancient sacrificial rites, this originally referred to the three animals of ox, sheep, and pig, but later it was used specifically for the ox alone.

　　[25] The emperor had abolished the imperial examinations—In the thirty-first year of the Guangxu reign (1905), the Qing government ordered that, starting with the bingwu examination year, the imperial examination system be abolished.

　　[26] Funeral staff—In former times, when escorting a parent's coffin to the grave, a son had to hold a "mourning staff" in his hand to express his overwhelming grief. Because Ah Q detested the Imitation Foreign Devil, he cursed the man's walking stick as a "funeral staff."

　　[27] "There are three unfilial acts, and having no posterity is the greatest"—This saying is found in the "Li Lou" chapter of Mencius. See note [22] on page 143 of this volume.

　　[28] "The ghosts of the Ruo'ao family will go hungry"—This saying comes from the fourth year of Duke Xuan's reign in the Zuo Zhuan: Ziliang, the prime minister of the state of Chu (of the Ruo'ao clan), had a son named Yuejiao whose appearance was fierce and evil. Ziliang's elder brother Ziwen believed that Yuejiao would bring about the destruction of the entire clan when he grew up, and urged Ziliang to kill him. Ziliang did not comply. On his deathbed, Ziwen said: "Even ghosts seek food—will not the ghosts of the Ruo'ao clan go hungry?" This meant that the Ruo'ao clan would have no descendants to offer sacrifices, and their ghosts would go hungry. Er is a final particle.

　　[29] "Could not restrain his wandering heart"—The "Bi Ming" chapter of the Book of Documents says: "Even if one restrains the wandering heart, keeping it in check is difficult." Fangxin means a heart without restraint.

　　〔30〕 Daji: The consort of King Zhou of Yin. The following Baosi was the consort of King You of Zhou. The Records of the Grand Historian contains accounts of Shang falling because of Daji and Zhou declining because of Baosi. Diaochan was a singing girl in the household of Wang Yun in Romance of the Three Kingdoms, in which there is a story of Lü Bu killing Dong Zhuo over her. Here the author is satirizing the view that blames women for the downfall of states and ruin of families throughout history.

　　〔31〕 "the great barrier between men and women": Refers to the strict boundaries prescribed between the sexes by feudal ritual morality, such as "men reside outside, women reside inside" (Book of Rites, "Inner Pattern") and "men and women should not touch when giving or receiving things" (Mencius, "Li Lou"), and so forth.

　　〔32〕 "condemning intent": Equivalent to "condemning intention." The History of the Later Han, Biography of Huo Xu, states: "The principle of the Spring and Autumn Annals is to determine fault by examining circumstances and to pardon deeds while condemning intent." "Condemning intent" and "condemning intention" mean subjectively inferring another's motives without regard to actual circumstances.

　　〔33〕 "standing firm": From the Analects, "Wei Zheng": "At thirty, I stood firm." Originally it was Confucius's statement that at thirty he had established himself in learning, and afterward "standing firm" was commonly used to refer to the age of thirty.

　　〔34〕 Little Don: That is, Little Tong. In "Letter to the Editors of the Drama Weekly," included in the Miscellaneous Essays of the Qiejie Pavilion, the author says: "His name is 'Little Tong,' and when he grows up, he will be just like Ah Q."

　　〔35〕 "I Hold a Steel Whip and I'll Beat You!": This line, along with the later "How I regret, drunk, I wrongly beheaded Brother Zheng," are both lyrics from the local Shaoxing opera Dragon-Tiger Fight of that time. The opera tells the story of the battle between Song Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin and Hu Yanzan. Brother Zheng refers to Zheng Ziming, a fierce general under Zhao Kuangyin's command.

　　〔36〕 "A scholar who parts for three days must be looked at with new eyes": This phrase comes from Pei Songzhi's annotation to the Records of the Three Kingdoms, Book of Wu, Biography of Lü Meng: "When a scholar parts for three days, one must look at him with new eyes." 'Gua mu' means to wipe one's eyes.

　　〔37〕 Thirty-two-piece bamboo dominoes: A type of gambling implement. These are ivory or bone dominoes, made from ivory or animal bone, or simply from bamboo when crudely made. The 'mahjong' mentioned later refers to sparrow cards, commonly called mahjong, also a gambling implement. Ah Q mispronounces 'mahjong' as 'mahjong sauce.'

　　〔38〕 Three hundred big cash strung at ninety-two to the hundred: That is, "three hundred big cash, counting ninety-two coppers as a hundred" (see The Making of The True Story of Ah Q, in More Random Essays of the Huagai Pavilion). In old China, copper coins had square holes in the center and could be strung together on a rope; every thousand coins (or a hundred large coins each worth ten) formed a string called a 'diao,' though in practice the count was often short.

　　〔39〕 "Paternal instruction": The Analects, Book XVI (Ji Shi), records that Confucius "once stood alone, and Li (i.e., Confucius's son) hurried past the courtyard," where Confucius told him to study the Odes and the Rites. Later, people often referred to a father's teachings as "paternal instruction" or "instruction received while passing through the courtyard."

　　〔40〕 "There is nothing to fear from him": This phrase appears in the Analects, Book IX (Zi Han).

　　〔41〕 The fourteenth day of the ninth month of the third year of the Xuantong reign: This day corresponds to November 4, 1911, the twenty-fifth day after the Wuchang Uprising that began the Xinhai Revolution. According to the third volume of Records of the Chinese Revolution (compiled and printed by the Shanghai Freedom Society in 1911), on the fourteenth day of the ninth month of the Xinhai year, Hangzhou Prefecture was occupied by the revolutionary army, and Shaoxing Prefecture declared its restoration to the revolution that same day.

　　〔42〕 Wearing mourning for Emperor Chongzhen: Chongzheng, as used in the text, is a mispronunciation by the characters of Chongzhen. Chongzhen was the reign title of Emperor Ming Sizong (Zhu Youjian). The Ming dynasty fell to the Qing, and later some peasant rebel armies often used the slogan "overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming" to oppose Qing rule. Thus, even into the late Qing period, some people believed that the revolutionary army's uprising was to avenge Emperor Chongzhen.

　　〔43〕 Ningbo-style bed: A relatively elaborate type of bed made in the Ningbo region of Zhejiang.

　　〔44〕 "All joining in reform": This phrase appears in the Book of Documents, the Yin Zheng chapter. See note 9 on page 278 of this volume.

　　〔45〕 Xuande censer: A relatively precious type of small bronze incense burner made during the Xuande reign of Emperor Xuanzong of the Ming dynasty (1426–1435), with the inscription "Made in the Xuande reign of the Great Ming" on its base.

　　〔46〕 The Captain: The lowest-ranking military officer in the Qing dynasty.

　　〔47〕 A letter in the 'Yellow Umbrella' format: A style of letter writing. On vertical eight-line letter paper, each line contains words of praise or respect, written in an elevated position but not extending to the bottom; the line near the center carries the recipient's name and title, raised even higher with more characters below, so that this line stands tall among the shorter lines on either side, resembling the handle of a yellow umbrella. The yellow umbrella was one of the noble ceremonial insignia of the feudal era, hence this writing style is called the 'Yellow Umbrella' format. Such a letter expresses deference to the recipient.

　　〔48〕 The rank button of the Persimmon-Oil Party: The Persimmon-Oil Party is a homophone for the Freedom Party. The author says in "The Making of The True Story of Ah Q," in Continuation of the Bad Luck Collection: "'Persimmon-Oil Party'... was originally 'Freedom Party'; the villagers could not understand it, so they corrupted it into 'Persimmon-Oil Party,' which they could understand." The rank button was the cap ornament on the top of a Qing official's hat indicating rank. Here the people of Weizhuang compare the badge of the Freedom Party to the official's 'rank button.'

　　[49] Hanlin Academician: The title for literary attendants to the emperor since the Tang Dynasty. In the Ming and Qing Dynasties, those who passed the highest imperial examination and were selected to serve in the Hanlin Academy were generally called Hanlin Academicians, responsible for compiling dynastic histories and drafting documents, a prestigious civil official rank.

　　[50] The Immortal Liu Hai: Refers to Liu Haichan of the Five Dynasties period. Legend has it that he cultivated the Way and became an immortal in the Zhongnan Mountains. His popular portraits typically show him with long flowing hair and short bangs covering his forehead.

　　[51] Brother Hong: Probably refers to Li Yuanhong. He originally served as the commander of the 21st Mixed Brigade of the New Army (equivalent to a later brigade commander). During the Wuchang Uprising in 1911, he was pulled out to serve as the military governor of the revolutionary forces in Hubei. He had not participated in the planning of the Wuchang Uprising.

　　[52] No: English for 'not'.

　　[53] The time of the Emperor Xi: Refers to Fuxi, a legendary ancient ruler of China's prehistoric era. His era was once described as a time of great peace and prosperity.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK The True Story of Ah Q ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg electronic works provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg

Project Gutenberg is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 41 Watchung Plaza #516, Montclair NJ 07042, USA, +1 (862) 621-9288. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.