切 - Cut
the legend of fa mulan
With a sword there is a cut across my hair and the shreds of femininity are cast aside. To do what must be done, I have to unsex myself. Oh, ancestors, protect my Father from recrimination, from defamation and disaster. Ancestors, help me in this quest. for years I have been forced to adhere to what a woman must be: small and delicate like a blossom on a tree. Now it is time to become like the tree itself. Strength, crassness and wisdom.
My Father was due to be conscripted to fight. But he's old...he wouldn't last the training course. I know it may be selfish but I can't understand it. He's a decorated war hero and yet due to some little despot general from the Imperial City, he must. Well, that's not strictly accurate. If I were born a man, then I could be riding out there already. I could take this all in my stride and nobody would bat an eyelid. And because I'm apparently not good enough, I cannot. It doesn't make sense to me. I'm logical, I'm intelligent. I might not be super-strong or whatever you want to throw at me in some masculine test but in the name of honour, I must be better than someone who is frail, who needs rest and tea, who needs to spend his last years sitting in tranquility and zen than gearing up for what is a young man's game.
Oh, damn it all. I've often wondered how better would life be to be a man. to be able to do as I wished and be as thirsty for knowledge and honour instead of being reduced to a silent porcelain doll. I was given lips that could part and fully functioning vocal chords. Whatever created us made us able to speak and therefore, I should be able to speak. I shouldn't have to pretend to be brutish and course as some barbarian boy. If only that law didn't exist...
But it is easily enough to curse everything and lament but that will not get me anywhere. I've cut my hair.
And it's not enough. I can -plainly see that in the polished stones of my ancestors. I just look like a child. No more a man than that cricket!
I sneak back into the house and take some rice spirit from the storage. It is important for what happens next. As is the garlic bulbs, the small dagger and the old sheet. The light isn't very good in the temple but work I must. It's still dark but darkness will not last forever and I have to ride. The Mu Shung camp is a good three hours away, more by foot, and time is running out. Crushing the garlic and mixing with the spirit, I clean the sword with it.
And there is that pale face again. Boyish but still with the smear of womanhood. I just have to remember that small pain now means escaping immediate execution. Oh, no. Death. What if I died? If I am executed by the army, it is disgrace eternal. But killed by the Huns in battle...it is a preferable fate. Automatic honour and my family would not have to deal with a daughter who cannot even be good enough to get a husband.
A cut, just from my chin to further up my cheek. And it hurts. But pain...I know to expect pain. I was told the story by mother. The cut on my cheek, this is my wedding night. I am losing my virginity to something greater than any mortal man could provide. Dabbing the solution on my cheek with a corner of the sheet stings but it will stop it from going rancid which is a bonus.
And now, for the children.
I take off the silken cloth and stare at my bare chest. Small enough for a bride but still too large for a man. Breathing stops, the cricket stops chirruping and time slows to a sticky haze. And the children fall to the floor. It is all I can do to stop screaming. I don't know how to feel...there's pain...yes, of course there's pain but there's other things and I just want to get my armour on and run. But every good deed needs a sacrifice. And I burn those things, those lumps of womanhood and I watch it burn as I bind my chest with the rags and apply the remaining potion. And the course material of the uniform and the clunk of metal courage and I look at myself. Not Mulan anymore. Not a porcelain doll but maybe, just maybe with the buckling pain in my chest and the gritty expression, maybe the Fa family son can do a better job.
And on my horse and I ride. I feel dizzy, sick and guilty for leaving them without saying anything. But I am riding into training feeling stronger and more of a man than any of those boys that I am going to meet when I get to my destination: my destiny and no Fate is going to stop me from grabbing it.
My Father was due to be conscripted to fight. But he's old...he wouldn't last the training course. I know it may be selfish but I can't understand it. He's a decorated war hero and yet due to some little despot general from the Imperial City, he must. Well, that's not strictly accurate. If I were born a man, then I could be riding out there already. I could take this all in my stride and nobody would bat an eyelid. And because I'm apparently not good enough, I cannot. It doesn't make sense to me. I'm logical, I'm intelligent. I might not be super-strong or whatever you want to throw at me in some masculine test but in the name of honour, I must be better than someone who is frail, who needs rest and tea, who needs to spend his last years sitting in tranquility and zen than gearing up for what is a young man's game.
Oh, damn it all. I've often wondered how better would life be to be a man. to be able to do as I wished and be as thirsty for knowledge and honour instead of being reduced to a silent porcelain doll. I was given lips that could part and fully functioning vocal chords. Whatever created us made us able to speak and therefore, I should be able to speak. I shouldn't have to pretend to be brutish and course as some barbarian boy. If only that law didn't exist...
But it is easily enough to curse everything and lament but that will not get me anywhere. I've cut my hair.
And it's not enough. I can -plainly see that in the polished stones of my ancestors. I just look like a child. No more a man than that cricket!
I sneak back into the house and take some rice spirit from the storage. It is important for what happens next. As is the garlic bulbs, the small dagger and the old sheet. The light isn't very good in the temple but work I must. It's still dark but darkness will not last forever and I have to ride. The Mu Shung camp is a good three hours away, more by foot, and time is running out. Crushing the garlic and mixing with the spirit, I clean the sword with it.
And there is that pale face again. Boyish but still with the smear of womanhood. I just have to remember that small pain now means escaping immediate execution. Oh, no. Death. What if I died? If I am executed by the army, it is disgrace eternal. But killed by the Huns in battle...it is a preferable fate. Automatic honour and my family would not have to deal with a daughter who cannot even be good enough to get a husband.
A cut, just from my chin to further up my cheek. And it hurts. But pain...I know to expect pain. I was told the story by mother. The cut on my cheek, this is my wedding night. I am losing my virginity to something greater than any mortal man could provide. Dabbing the solution on my cheek with a corner of the sheet stings but it will stop it from going rancid which is a bonus.
And now, for the children.
I take off the silken cloth and stare at my bare chest. Small enough for a bride but still too large for a man. Breathing stops, the cricket stops chirruping and time slows to a sticky haze. And the children fall to the floor. It is all I can do to stop screaming. I don't know how to feel...there's pain...yes, of course there's pain but there's other things and I just want to get my armour on and run. But every good deed needs a sacrifice. And I burn those things, those lumps of womanhood and I watch it burn as I bind my chest with the rags and apply the remaining potion. And the course material of the uniform and the clunk of metal courage and I look at myself. Not Mulan anymore. Not a porcelain doll but maybe, just maybe with the buckling pain in my chest and the gritty expression, maybe the Fa family son can do a better job.
And on my horse and I ride. I feel dizzy, sick and guilty for leaving them without saying anything. But I am riding into training feeling stronger and more of a man than any of those boys that I am going to meet when I get to my destination: my destiny and no Fate is going to stop me from grabbing it.