36 Constructs of Queerness in White Snake Legends

Part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak, written in the nineteenth century, and Geling Yan’s novella White Snake, published in 1981, construct different depictions of the White Snake Legend. In Chinese literature and folklore, the Legend of the White Snake centers itself around a romance between a shape-shifting snake spirit and a man who falls for the spirit’s human, female form. In the original story, the plot concludes once the snake has been trapped by a monk, symbolizing a restoration of the social order. In part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak, however, the snake spirit’s son, Mengjiao, rescues his mother from captivity and ensures her a life of peaceful immortality in the afterlife. White Snake, meanwhile, presents a modern rendition of the legend. The novella, “set mostly in the ‘ten years of chaos’ of China’s Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966-76)”^[1] depicts the queer relationship between Sun Likun, a former opera performer known for playing the White Snake, and one of her former fans, Shan-shan. The story switches between official accounts (how the Chinese government interpreted their relationship), popular accounts (how the public interpreted their relationship), and “The Untold Story” (what actually happened). The story centers itself mainly on the interactions that happen when Sun Likun is locked up under the pretense of being a Soviet spy and Shan-shan comes to visit her, dressed as a man who uses the pseudonym Xu Quenshan. Part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak and White Snake present new definitions of femininity and queerness. In The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak, the acceptance of Lady Bai’s existence as a snake by her family and her eventual rescue corresponds to an acceptance of her ‘otherness.’ In White Snake, the downfall of Sun Likun’s career as an opera performer and her proceeding homoerotic relationship with Shan-shan presents a fall into ‘otherness.’

By focusing on Sun Likun’s fall from grace, Yan offers a new perspective on the role of women in Chinese society. In part one of “The Popular Account,” Yan describes Sun Likun at the peak of her career, saying, “That water snake waist of hers got the men coiled up in her bed in no time. All the men who slept with Sun Likun said she had 120 vertebrae. She could twist any way she felt like twisting. There wasn’t a straight bone in her body. She could wind back and forth at will, so the effect was as if she had no bones at all.”^[2] Here, Yan suggests that Sun Likun’s position as a dancer grants her a type of special power. The idea that her bones are not “straight” parallels the queerness of her sexuality seen later in the story. In an analytical essay by Liang Luo, Luo focuses on dancing as expression in White Snake, and how performance can constitute a type of rebellion. Luo says, “The same female body that is celebrated for expressiveness in performance can be seen as politically suspicious in real life; White Snake can be revered on stage, yet at the same time deplored off it. The fate of the fictional White Snake impersonator in Yan Geling’s White Snake, accused of being a ‘broken shoe’ (poxie 破鞋 [a derogatory reference to a woman who is perceived to be sexually promiscuous]) in real life during the Cultural Revolution, serves as an allegory for the life‐shaping power of performance.”^[3] The men in White Snake demonize Sun Likun once she gains weight and loses her popular status. Men loved “. . . her beauty, loved the seductive but spiteful look in her eyes, loved her dancer’s breast, loved her long neck, sharp chin and shoulders that sloped like flowing waters. Loved her picture with Zhou Enlai. They loved everything about her, except herself.”^[4] Thus, once Sun Likun loses her youthful beauty, she is seen as discardable and disconnected from the center of Chinese society. The men “. . . were no longer the slightest bit in awe of her. After all, she was just like any fat middle-aged woman you could see at the marketplace, the kind who would prattle on mindlessly while buying a penny’s worth of green onion, or who would demand to check the scales when buying two ounces of meat.”^[5] Here Yan illustrates how, once women fail to cater to men’s desires, they are denounced as common and become an invisible, insignificant presence. Interestingly, it is only once Xu Quenshan, a woman, values Sun Likun as she is that the latter begins to prioritize dancing again. Xu Quenshan notes that “Intuition and inference had become incarnate in her dancer’s body, a body that regardless of its pose or contortions still contained that basic precise expression. Xu Quenshan knew that people instinctively loved this body, but their love was too concrete, too purposeful. Her body’s lack of concreteness kept it ever beyond their grasp, so they took revenge by loving it more.”^[6] This quote reveals that, even when Sun Likun is young and beautiful, men still want to exploit her and refuse to get to know her on a deeper level. By reflecting on this, “Xu Quenshan understood clearly the origin of his childhood fascination with her. Xu Quenshan loved that body; he did not seek the underlying meaning of its insinuations, because the most fundamentally precise language was to be found in those insinuations: it could not be pursued further.”^[7] Xu Quenshan’s appreciation of Sun Likun’s body differs from men’s appreciation of it; Xu Quenshan does not attempt to take the body for herself, but rather accepts its innate fluidity. In this way, Xu Quenshan assists Sun Likun in reasserting her abilities as a dancer. In “The Untold Story, Part 5,” Sun Likun practices her performance skills. “She had been doing this for almost a month and saw her body slimming down and her figure becoming more defined. In her thirty-four years of life, this was the first time she felt that the most comforting part about being together with a man was not his body but his heart.”^[8] Here, Xu Quenshan’s acceptance of the fluidity and abstraction of Sun Likun’s movements mirrors Sun Likun’s appreciation of his heart and emotions. However, it must be noted that for most of the novella, Sun Likun assumes Xu Quenshan is a man. Even though their relationship deviates from the absolute and concrete, and posits that a duality based on emotions is more fulfilling, their relationship can only occur because Xu Quenshan presents himself as a man. Thus, while Xu’s gender fluidity transcends the limits of traditional gendered experiences, it is only because he adopts masculine traits that he is able to change Sun Likun’s perception of herself.

Yan’s portrayal of gender fluidity builds upon her ideas of queerness and femininity as ‘other.’ Xu Quenshan says, “I’m nineteen, and this is the first time I have felt that my body is inherently androgynous. Ever since I was little, I have been fond of cutting my hair short and wearing hand-me-down clothes from my elder brothers, which others viewed as, if not abnormal, then at least unusual. That’s just fine with me. A purely feminine girl is both silly and insipid.”^[9] The way Xu Quenshan expresses himself is ‘abnormal,’ or ‘queer,’ which mirrors the non-conformity of Sun Likun’s appearance and movements. Additionally, the alternating pronouns of Xu Quenshan—he/him when referring to his male persona, and she/her when referring to Shan-shan—suggests that existing as a woman is not necessarily tied to one set of norms or ideas. This fluidity engenders a type of equality between Xu Quenshan and Sun Likun. On the final day of Xu Quenshan’s visitations, “Sun Likun turned her face toward him. At that instant, human and animal became equal, old and young, male and female, all absolutely equal. Soundlessly, she used the wordless language shared by human and animal alike to tell him: she was his.”^[10] The refusal of Sun Likun and Shan-shan to adhere to a stringent set of regulations lends itself to a mutual, consensual possession of one other. The lack of power imbalance between the two characters suggests there is a freedom in rebelling from what is considered normal.

White Snake emphasizes the illicit nature of the relationship between Shan-shan and Sun Likun and the negative reactions of Chinese society towards their romance. When Shan-shan first sees Sun Likun, she notes in her journal entry, “She was so beautiful. How is it possible for a person to be so beautiful?! (While writing that line, I blushed – my face is so hot!) Her long, long neck went all the way down, exposing her cleavage. She reminded me of a statue. I’d really like to touch her, to see if it is sculpted or real. I frighten myself when I have thoughts like that.”^[11] The fear with which Shan-shan regards her homoerotic desires implies that others would not look favorably upon same-sex relationships. Shan-shan particularly fears the possibility of isolation, saying “So am I strange? Can anyone tell me if I am normal? Mama tells me I’m not a very normal child. She says it in a way that makes it sound like she’s praising me. I do so hope I’m normal, otherwise I’ll be so isolated! I’m so scared!”^[12] This concept of isolation, though initially frightening to Shan-shan, sparks the romance between the two characters. Shan-shan expresses her interest in Sun Likun once the latter is locked up and hidden away from the rest of society. The two experience a type of blissful happiness only made possible by isolation and removal from other people. The two exist not only outside of modern society, but also outside of the present era entirely. In “The Popular Account, Part 2,” Yan says, Chinese society “turned a blind eye to what had been their actual experience: they were enchanted by that air of civility, thoroughly and unpardonably enchanted. It was only much later that they really thought about Xu Quenshan’s unreasonable elegance. He didn’t belong to their society or their era—“our great and glorious era,” as they called it. Either he belonged to the past or else to the future.”^[13] Because Xu Quenshan’s persona transcended the usual boundaries of what a man should be, society could not rationalize his behavior and wrote him off as a relic of another time. However, Xu Quenshan’s unusual behavior directly contributes to Sun Likun’s love for him; she says, “He had another mission as well. Maybe it was only to get close with her. Yet he had never been like other men she had experienced, no full-bodied, nose-penetrating desire. The young man named Xu Quenshan had never, ever been like them.”^[14] Again, this is because Xu Quenshan’s desire for Sun Likun is not purely physical. He spends time with her just for the sake of spending time with her, and does not expect anything in return. The two’s relation to the original white snake legend is another way in which their relationship exists outside of the modern space-time continuum. When Xu Quenshan watches the white snake opera as a child, he laments over the behavior of Xu Xian and expresses her desire for Blue Snake and White Snake to get together, saying, “After becoming a female, Blue Snake is so loyal and brave, so attentive toward White Snake even in the smallest matters. What if he had not become a female? Wouldn’t White Snake then have avoided anything to do with that idiot Xu Xian? I really can’t stand Xu Xian! If it hadn’t been for him, White Snake would not have suffered such tribulations. If it hadn’t been for that detestable Xu Xian, White Snake and Blue Snake would certainly have been very happy together. Oh, it really gets under my skin!”^[15] Xu Quenshan’s irritation towards Xu Xian reflects a broader anger towards heteronormativity and the negative effects men can have on women. Because heterosexual relationships constitute the “norm,” women often find themselves in relationships that are unfulfilling. The desire to conform to a specific type of relationship prevents these women from finding healthier connections and keeps them trapped in a loop of negativity. Xu Quenshan’s frustration demonstrates his desire for a different type of society that grants women the opportunity to explore themselves. The connection between the modern White Snake opera and the original White Snake Legend reasserts the idea that Xu Quenshan and Sun Likun exist outside of modern time. The magical nature of the legend reflects the idea that queerness does not have a space to exist in reality and only has a basis in folklore. The end of the story emphasizes the inability of the two main characters to stay together in the long run. Both Sun Likun and Xu Quenshan marry other men, and the former presents the latter with a wedding gift that symbolizes their relationship. Shan-shan opens her gift, and, “It was only now, as Shan-shan took it out of the box, that Sun Likun realized the extremely intricate jade carving she had given them depicted the drama of White Snake and Blue Snake. Shan-shan looked at her as if to ask why she had dropped such an obvious hint. Sun Likun looked back at her as if to say she had not done so deliberately, that she would absolutely keep their secret to herself.”^[16] Their relationship can only be represented through memory, and even in this, the two can only hint at the nature of their feelings for one another. White Snake presents its readers with new definitions of queerness and femininity and argues there is a happiness that can be achieved only by rebelling from normality.

Part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak constructs queerness in a separate, but equally important, way. In the original legend, Fa Hai, a monk, traps Lady Bai, the white snake spirit, underneath a mountain. In the sequel, however, her son, Mengjiao, goes on a mission to rescue her. The acceptance by her son and husband reflects an acceptance of her otherness. The romance between Xu Xian and Lady Bai, although heterosexual, also reflects a deviation from the norm. In most White Snake Legends, the snake spirit uses its female form to manipulate men to fulfill their own desires. In another article written by Liang Luo, Luo says, “Feng Menglong’s seventeenth century vernacular tale ‘Lady White Forever Imprisoned under Leifeng Pagoda’ was one of the most popular retellings of the tale, highlighting the ‘lust, caution’ parable embedded in the tale, repudiating the lustful nature of the snake woman and her destructive power, while upholding the monk Fa Hai as a defender of social norms and natural human relations.”^[17] The sequel to this story subverts this trope. In The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak, Xu Xian and Lady Bai hold each other in genuine regard. At a certain point in the story, Xu Xian is banished to the city of Suzhou, and he tells his wife, “My dear wife, please don’t cry, please wipe your tears!” Nonetheless, “the wife did not listen to what her husband said, but cried and wept throughout the day, awash in tears.”^[18] There is a consistent theme of grief, burden, and separation seen in the relationship between Xu Xian and Lady Bai. The emotional turmoil that the two main characters feel occurs in both prose and poetry. This implies the love the two feel for each other transcends the boundaries of literature itself, and cannot be held down by one particular form. Like White Snake, the abnormal nature of Xu Xian and Lady Bai’s relationship links itself causally to the inability of the two to stay together. When Lady Bai visits Xu Xian in Suzhou, she says, “But how could I know that you would be so perverse as to declare, against all reason, that I am a demon! Under these conditions I don’t want to be your wife, I’ll be happy to shave my head and to become a nun. From this very moment you and I will separate—Please take good care of yourself, don’t feel sad. There’s no other reason why I want to become a nun than that you, darling husband, will enjoy a long life. If we cannot be a couple in this present existence, I hope in a coming existence to become your wife.”^[19] Here, Lady Bai expresses the hope that a future era would be more accepting of her abnormality than the present. Similarly to White Snake, this comment illustrates how relationships that deviate from the norm cannot exist in conservative society. The marriage of her son to a woman named Bilian, and the happiness the two experience further emphasizes the difficulty of merely existing as a queer person. When Mengjiao and Bilian are married, the narrator says, “Husband and wife lived in harmony, like fish in water.”^[20] This harmony contrasts with the emotional and fraught relationship of Xu Xian and Lady Bai. Lady Bai’s existence as a white snake spirit can be seen as a metaphor for queer sexuality. At the end of the story, Xu Xian and Lady Bai are reunited in the afterlife, “the husband was now a Buddha, the wife an immortal.”^[21] The success of the two only once they exist outside of Chinese society demonstrates the incapability of queerness to function successfully in reality.

White Snake and part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak present new ways to view womanhood and romance within the context of the White Snake Legend. In White Snake, Sun Likun’s occupation as an opera performer correlates with her sexuality. The fluidity of her bodily movements and the fluidity of Xu Quenshan’s gendered performance illustrate how women can exist outside of the norms placed upon them. The ending of the story, however, reflects the idea that their queerness cannot function successfully in conservative society. In part two of The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak, Lady Bai’s snake spirit represents a different type of queerness. Her affection towards her son and husband deviates from the traditional, manipulative behavior of white snake spirits. Both stories offer different perspectives on queerness and demonstrate the restrictive nature of society.

Bibliography

Anonymous. The Precious Scroll of Thunder Peak. Translated by Wilt L. Idema. Hackett Publishing Company, 2009.

Luo, Liang. “The White Snake as the New Woman of Modern China.” New Modern Chinese Women and Gender Politics. (2014).

Luo, Liang. “Writing Green Snake, Dancing White Snake, and the Cultural Revolution as Memory and Imagination-Centered on Geling Yan’s Baishe.” Frontiers of Literary Studies in China Journal. (2017).

Yan, Geling. White Snake in White Snake and Other Stories. Aunt Lute Publishing, 1999.