© Collection Cahiers du Cinéma, Paris
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Crossing
the line
Released in
1999, Men and Women, directed by Bingjian Liu, was the first Chinese film that depicted
homosexuals as normal people living normal lives. Cui Zi’en wrote the script. “I
wanted to show how we live day by day and to suggest that everyone can have a homosexual
side,” he says.
The film is set in a rapidly changing urban society where different lifestyles coexist.
In this context, the line between male and female sexual roles is blurred. “Encouraging
people to think in these terms could be more effective than waving banners,” he says.
Homosexual characters in earlier Chinese films appear as victims. In Chen Kaige’s
Farewell my Concubine, for example, a young actor with the Beijing Opera is condemned
to be a sexual plaything of a lustful mandarin. Or else they try to understand their
“problem,” as shown in the confrontation between a proclaimed homosexual and a policeman
in Zhang Yuan’s film East Palace, West Palace.
Is the vision of Cui Zi’en premature? So far, the authorities have not allowed his
film to be shown in China.
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Psychiatrists
no longer view homosexuality as a mental illness, while the media is broaching the
topic. But authorities prefer to keep the lid on a subject that could spiral into
a human rights debate
“I think of my homosexuality
as a source of creativity,” says Cui Zi’en, with a cheeky look in his eye. Few militant
homosexuals in China, such as this scriptwriter and teacher, dare to go public. Homosexuality
is not illegal, even though the law against “sordid” offences that bars sexual relations
in public was long used against homosexuals who met in parks.
The law was rescinded several years ago, but the attitude of Chinese doctors is still
ambiguous. Social stability is cited as a reason for not treating sexuality as a
private matter. Homosexuality, with its power to break up families and transmit Aids,
is therefore seen as an illness. A handful of doctors, sociologists and campaigners,
however, are managing to drag the debate onto more scientific territory.
Last April, the Chinese Psychiatrists’ Association removed homosexuality from its
list of mental illnesses. “But it’s still seen as a psychological disorder,” says
Cui Zi’en. “Psychiatrists have reclassified it, which isn’t enough.” Some doctors,
he says, probably still want to “cure” homosexuals, which only prolongs the distress
of those who “consider themselves abnormal.”
Liu Dalin, a well-known sexologist, says homosexuality can be seen as criminal, an
illness or normal. “China is still at the illness stage,” he says. “People still
regard it as a problem.”
Rejecting
the pleasure principle
Public
opinion is an obstacle to any change. Attitudes have been shaped for centuries by
Confucian morality and then communist puritanism. For decades, individual pleasure–dismissed
as “bourgeois”– was beyond the pale. “You just couldn’t talk about sexuality,” says
sociologist Li Yinhe, who specializes in sexual behaviour.
Since the 1980s, however, individual freedom has expanded, especially in the big
cities, and the Chinese are once again learning how to listen to their feelings.
“But sexuality is still regarded as simply procreation,” says Ye Guangwei, a volunteer
at an advice centre for homosexuals in Beijing. “The idea of pleasure is poorly regarded.”
All the less so when it concerns homosexual pleasure, he continues: “A man who isn’t
masculine is disdained. And for him to take on a female role during a sexual act
is unthinkable and a disgrace in people’s eyes.”
In Confucian tradition, a man’s job is to start a family in order to produce male
heirs who will ensure the continued worship of the ancestors. Not surprisingly, a
large number of Chinese homosexuals still marry to save appearances and lead clandestine
sex lives.
In cities, tradition does not hold such weight, partly because of the government
policy of the one-child family, according to Li Yinhe. When a couple has a daughter,
the family lineage is broken, and it becomes impossible to respect tradition. Furthermore,
greater professional mobility also allows young people to escape the pressure of
their parents.
The “comrades,” as Chinese homosexuals call each other, think a change in media attitudes
could alter public opinion. After he appeared in a televised debate broadcast by
a provincial station, Cui Zi’en received calls from mothers who said they had been
amazed he did not seem to be perverted or unbalanced.
In recent years, local media have touched on the subject, but only timidly for fear
of igniting the state’s wrath. “We’re not really a danger in the eyes of the government,”
says Ye Guangwei, “but it prefers to stay in line with the moral convictions of the
majority.” To support a sexual minority would risk extending debate to the slippery
slope of human rights in general.
Respect
begins at home
The
media prefer to ignore homosexuality so as not to offend the authorities. They in
turn avoid disturbing public opinion, keeping prejudices well-entrenched through
lack of information. To break this vicious circle, “we have our part to play too,”
he says. “We have to teach people to like their own bodies and to respect them before
they can be liked and respected by others.”
Many would simply like to be able to live openly as homosexuals. “In the West, it’s
frowned on to criticize homosexuals and even more to make them feel different,” says
Cui Zi’en. “I can understand a heterosexual being startled at seeing a very effeminate
man. Chinese society is changing, but there’ll always be people who’ll feel disgust,
like they might jump if they saw a snake. We’re not going to tell them they have
to start liking snakes, are we?” |
