Last week I
discussed the late imperial Chinese family in The Story of the Stone, a family that was wealthy and prominent. Many
of the patterns described in the novel are similar to average Chinese families.
One of my former professors has done historical research on the families of the
coastal areas in Fujian Province. She found that the men would go out to work
on long sea voyages, trading and doing business in Southeast Asia. While the
men were working “outside,” the women would manage the family’s holdings and
businesses “inside” China proper. Anthropologists studying the Hakka subculture
historically and across Southeast Asia found that Hakka men would frequently
travel long distances to find work, leaving their women in the family’s home
town to raise the children, care for the elderly, and run the family’s farm and
businesses there. The Hakka also have a dense concentration along the
southeastern coastal regions in northern Guangdong Province and the mountainous
regions of Fujian Province. I find it interesting that these two linguistic
subcultures seem to give their women more equality in earning money because the
Fujian and Hakka dialects are thought to be the oldest Chinese dialects.
Perhaps their practices reflect the earlier more balanced view of women in
Chinese culture.
As large clans
break up and move off the family farms, these patterns are changing. When Ma
and Pa were married, Pa’s eleven male cousins and their living parents, wives
and children all lived in the three-sided family farm house up in the hills
near Hsinchu. They shared much of the hill left to them by their ancestors with
their distant cousins in the Upper House. The family had rice paddies, fruit
trees, vegetable plots, and pig pens. The men and women worked in the rice
paddies, and after the crops were planted, some of the men like Pa would go to
the cities to work as laborers. While Pa was gone, Ma remained at the family
farm caring for her elderly in-laws, raising her pigs for market (this was her
own business), and raising her young children. Although the pigs were Ma’s, she
was subject to the economic predations of her father-in-law, Grandpa Liu, who
would frequently go into town and buy things for himself against the credit for
that year’s pig. It drove Ma crazy because she never knew if there would be
money to buy things for her children when she finally slaughtered the pig.
After Pa moved his
family off the farm, he managed everything, and because Ma is illiterate, she
worked for Pa at his construction sites when she had finished her household
chores, which included washing in the creek behind the house all the laundry
for her kids, her mother-in-law, her husband, herself, AND all of Pa’s
apprentices, as well as cooking meals for 16 or 20 people three times a day
over a wood fire. When I married into the family, several of Pa’s daughters
were working at factories because Pa’s business could not support the family and
pay his debts. Pa encouraged me to work part-time teaching English because it
gave the family face to have a teacher among them and because it was reliable,
well-paid work. Everyone contributed a certain amount to the communal pot, the
amount of which was negotiated between each family member and Pa and Ma. The
rest of the money that each person earned was theirs to spend or save as they
pleased. Yuni was the only one who kept what he earned to himself. He would
occasionally buy gifts or pay a bill, but as the heir-apparent, he would be
supporting his parents in their dotage, and no one begrudged him his freedom
early in life. (I think I was supposed to force him to pay into the communal
pot, but when we were first married, I did not speak enough Hakka to understand
that he didn’t have a separate arrangement with Pa to contribute to the
household.)
Third Maternal
Uncle ran his household much differently. He had 21 people under his roof.
Three of his five sons were married, and their wives and children all lived
with him. He controlled absolutely all of the money. His eldest daughter-in-law
had been a nurse before she got married, but he forced her to quit her job and
work together with her husband in the family business making banisters. Pa
frequently berated Third Maternal Uncle for not sufficiently diversifying the
family business interests. When I was first married, Pa was just recovering
from bankruptcy, and Third Maternal Uncle was at the height of his power. Uncle
did not even allow his children to handle money. He would give them small
amounts of spending money before any function. In the end, this strategy did
not work because when Third Maternal Uncle wanted to retire, his sons and
daughters-in-law did not know how to handle money. I do not know all the
details, but I know that Ma was quite sad about the situation in her brother’s
family after they split into small households, and Pa felt fully vindicated in
his criticisms of Third Maternal Uncle’s method of running a household.
I think that Pa
and Third Maternal Uncle show two mindsets among traditional men facing the
modern reality that women can get real jobs outside the home. Pa is more
forward-thinking and pragmatic. He does not feel threatened in his masculinity
to have his daughters and daughters-in-law working outside the family business.
He personally ran his business for the benefit of his clan. After his debts
were paid off and he had enough work, if any of his nephews needed work or when
his sister’s husband lost his job, Pa gave them work at his construction sites.
He was always grateful that Eldest Paternal Uncle had given his family rice
from the family farm to keep them from starving during the worst of his
bankruptcy problems. Ma says that the bankruptcy changed Pa a lot. I never knew
him prior to the bankruptcy, but from the beginning of my marriage, Pa was
accepting of working women and appreciated their contributions to the family.
He would even call me and Elder Sister in to the men’s discussions to ask us
our opinions about business or the world situation.
Third Maternal
Uncle, on the other hand, did not want his wife to work after she had daughters-in-law.
He had her dress up in fancy clothes with make-up and jewelry. He was an
absolute authoritarian. He kept total control of all the money and did not even
trust his sons. In the long-run, his daughters-in-law resented him and his “indolent”
wife, and his sons racked up gambling debts instead of running the business
properly after Third Maternal Uncle had retired. If the cousins’ wives had been
allowed to keep their outside jobs, and if the sons had been given their own
money to manage, I don’t think Third Maternal Uncle’s family would have gotten
into quite the troubles as it has.
I mentioned in an
earlier post that my time in the hospital caring for Elder Sister seemed to
change the dynamics of the family. In one respect, it pushed the boundaries
open to women because Elder Sister and I handled everything without much input
from the men. Because I am well-educated, I could read the hospital chart on
Elder Sister’s bed, which was written in English to preserve confidentiality. I
could also converse intelligently with the doctors. My friend, the lawyer, is a
woman, and so when I asked Wenzhu to consult with us, I did not need to bring
in a male because women and their friends are all part of the realm of
“inside.” Pa and Yuni had given Elder Sister carte blanche to speak for
herself. With Pa’s blessing, I worked with her to find a way for her to keep
her children and support them. Pa and Ma would come down at least once a week
to visit, and we would report to them and discuss things with them. We did not,
however, consult with the Liu family’s heir-apparent, Yuni. In the past, he was
the most highly educated in the family, and as heir-apparent, he handled many
of the family’s business matters, even when he was in elementary school. I
believe that Pa and Ma saw my efforts as Yuni’s contribution through his wife,
and because these things related to Elder Sister’s health and children and were
handled among Eldest Brother-in-law’s business associates and my female
friends, these things never left the realm of “inside.” And I believe that on a
certain level, Yuni felt the realm of “inside” had expanded to a threatening
extent.
Since China’s
defeat in the Opium Wars in the mid-19th Century, there has been
talk about the “yinification” of
Chinese men. This means that Chinese men are seen as weak and unable to handle
the challenges of the modern world. This kind of discourse continues in both
Taiwan and China, as spoiled only sons have a hard time competing in the modern
world. A friend of mine, who has worked long and hard in Japan raising money
and founding shelters for victims of domestic abuse there, said that her
perception of the situation in Japan is that the men went from a situation of
complete privilege with respect to women to one in which women can own
property, attend schools, and compete in the workforce. She asked me if I
thought that Chinese men might not be facing the same crisis of identity. I
believe that she is right. The realm of “inside” has broadened to include the
“outside,” and educated, modern women are succeeding without any help from the
men in their lives. To men who have been spoiled and pampered by mothers and
grandmothers just because they could pee standing up, it must come as a rude
awakening that the world does not revolve around them. Like Baoyu, many of them
are adept at the use of the temper tantrum to get their way, and when as grown
men they throw tantrums, domestic violence can result.
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