CHAPTER XXXV

_PUBLIC PLEASURES_

THE THEATRES

The theatre in China is always a private institution. We have no

State-supported theatres, but, on the other hand, many rich people

have theatres in their houses. In the north of China the public has

its theatres the same as in Europe, where regular performances of

fashionable pieces are given, and where people may dine in the boxes or

on the balcony. Everywhere else there is nothing to be had in the way of

theatrical representations, except from troupes of strolling actors, who

play in the temples, restaurants, or private houses. A set stage is to

be seen in every temple, and performances are given on it on the feast

day of the patron god of the temple, or for the accomplishment of certain

vows. In both cases a troupe is sent for and a piece is selected. Whilst

the organisers are taking their seats in the side balconies, which are

our equivalent for your stage-boxes, the public is admitted gratuitously,

and may place itself either in front or around the stage. At the end of

each act—as a rule, only one-act pieces are played—an actor, disguised

as a woman, offers the organisers of the fête a certain number of sticks

to choose from. On each stick is written the name of one of the plays in

the repertory of the troupe. A performance always includes five acts, or,

as is usually the case, and generally means the same thing, five pieces,

which have to be played through in the course of the evening. On the

Emperor’s or Empress’s birthday similar performances are given before the

houses of all the public officials, and take place accordingly in the

street. This is a treat for the people, who may attend without paying.

There are stages in our big restaurants, and performances are given there

twice or three times every week. The public seat themselves in parties

of four or of six at tables, which are arranged in parallel rows to the

stage, and in such a way that nobody has his back turned to the stage.

As the customers of these restaurants are all rich people, the actors

often get down off the stage to serve wine round, and to ask what piece

they shall play. Should the piece thus chosen be found a success and

well played, the person who chose it rewards the actors with cash. The

actor takes the notes and places them on a tray, which he shows to the

public in proof of the generosity of the giver. Should the piece be badly

played, or any portion of it be badly sung, the public remains absolutely

silent, without manifesting feeling of any kind. The practice of hissing

is never indulged in in Chinese theatres. The silence of the public

is the rebuke administered to the actors. If, on the other hand, the

piece has been creditably performed, there is only one voice among the

public to applaud. All the spectators rise to their feet as of one common

accord, and shout “Lao, Lao.” This shows that in China we are both polite

in our disapproval and prompt to enthusiasm when we are pleased. This

national trait is the key to the conduct of the majority of the Chinese

under all circumstances. They never criticise directly; they never

noisily disapprove of anything, nor give vent to cries of anger: silence

suffices for them; silence, which in itself alone has the eloquence of

the severest comments, the most indignant exclamations, and is withal

dignified; silence, which condemns without discussion and without

appeal. A peculiarity of our theatres which may be noted here, is that

the orchestra, instead of being placed in front of the stage, is always

behind it, and plays no matter what piece of music, and always without

notes. The conductor wields no baton, but has a kind of tambourine in

one hand and a pair of castanets in the other. The first indicates the

time, the others changes in the tone. The actors always play by heart

without the help of a prompter. We should laugh were we to see a musician

using notes, or a gentleman hidden away in a kind of kennel whispering

words to an actor at the moment perhaps when he is in the finest frenzy

of passion. In front of the stage, on the two pillars which face the

public, there may be generally seen amongst other decorations two bills

inscribed with philosophical reflections.

The following is one of the best known:—

“You may consider this performance as true or as false. It is

always an image of life and of its conclusions.”

Besides our big theatres we have also puppet shows, in which the

puppets are tied to strings and worked by people hidden in the flies.

Punch and Judy, worked by the fingers of an actor concealed behind a

curtain, are very popular in China. These miniature theatres are much in

favour with the people of places which cannot support a real theatre.

The performances are exactly the same as on the large stages, and are

always accompanied with music and songs from behind the stage. The only

difference is that the actors are in cardboard instead of being of flesh

and blood, and are very small instead of being very big, a matter of

little consequence after all. The size, the costumes, and the substance

of the actors may be overlooked, for all that is merely superficial and

a deceit of the eye. The truth—the great and immortal truth—is that our

desires and our passions, our joys and our woes, are always the same,

and never, never change. In every clime and in every age do we see the

eternal human comedy repeat itself.

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Chin-Chin; Or, The Chinaman at Home · 第 35 / 37 章