One Man’s Bible

You ask whether she would want to make love with a Nazi who might expose her Jewish background.

“Don’t mention the Nazis!”

“Sorry, but there is a similarity. They made use of the same psychology,” you explain. “Lin, of course, wasn’t like that, but she enjoyed many privileges because of her family. She didn’t try to get into the Party; her parents, her family, were the Party. She didn’t need to put on an act or go to report on her thinking to the Party secretary.”

You say the first time she invited you to a meal was in an elegant dining room that was not open to the public. To get through the door, a pass was needed. Naturally, she paid, you didn’t have a pass and didn’t have the money to pay, and felt bad about it.

“I understand,” she says softly.

You say Lin wanted you to take her husband’s military pass so the two of you could take a room in the holiday guesthouse for high-ranking cadres and their families in the Summer Palace. She said you could pose as her husband. You said what if you were found out? She said you wouldn’t be, and, if you wanted to, you could wear her husband’s uniform.

“She was brave,” she murmurs.

You say that you, however, were not, and this recklessness made you very anxious. Anyway, you made love with her. The first time was in her home. Her home was a huge courtyard complex occupied by her parents and the old doorkeeper who swept the yard and lit the stove. At night, they all went to bed early, and it was very quiet in the courtyard. It was she who initiated you into manhood, and, no matter what, you’re grateful to her.

“That means you still love her.” She props herself up on her elbows and looks at you in the dark.

“She taught me.”

You reflect about it; rather than love, it was desire for her lovely body.

“What did she teach you?”

Her hair brushes against your face, and you see the faint gleam of the whites of her large eyes looking down at you.

“She took the initiative. She had just become a married woman,” you say. “Anyway, at the time, I was over twenty and still a virgin. Don’t you think it’s hilarious?”

“Don’t say that, at that time, in China, everyone was puritanical, I understand. …”

Her fingers play little games on your body. You say that you were not puritanical and that you also wanted her.

“Was it because you were repressed that you wanted to indulge yourself?”

“I wanted to indulge myself with a woman’s body!” you say.

“And you also wanted a woman to indulge herself, right?” Her velvety voice is right by your ear. “Then fuck me, like you did those women of yours in China.”

“Who?”

“Lin, or that girl whose name you’ve forgotten.”

You turn and embrace her, lift her negligee, and slip into her. … “If you want to ejaculate, go ahead. …”—“Ejaculate in whose body?”—“A woman you want. …”—“A wanton woman?”—“Isn’t that what you want?”—“You’re a prostitute?”—“Yes.”—“Have you ever sold yourself?”—“Yes, and not just once. …”—“Where?”—“In Italy. …”—“Who did you sell yourself to?”—“Anyone who wanted. …”—“You’re cheap!”—“Not at all, you can’t afford me, what I want is for you to suffer. …”—“That’s all in the past.”—

“No, it’s right by you. …”—“That deep place?”—“Yes.”—“It’s very deep, right inside to the end … maybe too deep. … Is that why you’re squeezing hard, sucking?”—“You’ve ejaculated! Don’t worry. …”—“Aren’t you afraid?”—“Afraid of what?”—“What if you became pregnant?”—“I’d have an abortion.”—“Are you crazy?”—“You’re the one who’s afraid, you want to indulge but you don’t dare. Don’t worry, I’ve taken something.”—“When?”—“In the bathroom.”—“Before coming to bed?”—“Yes, I knew you would fuck me.”—“Then why did you torment me for so long?”—“Don’t ask, if you want to, just use it … this body. …”—“The body of a prostitute?”—“I’m not a prostitute.”—“I don’t understand.”—“Don’t understand what?”—“What you said just now.”—“What did I say?”—“You said you had sold yourself.”—“It would be impossible for you to comprehend, impossible for you to understand, impossible for you to know!”—“I want to know everything about you!”—“If you want to use me, go ahead, but don’t hurt me.”—“But aren’t you a prostitute?”—“No, I’m just a woman, one who became a woman too early.”—“When?”—“When I was thirteen. …”—“Nonsense! Are you making it up?”

She shakes her head. You want her to tell you about it! She mutters that she doesn’t know anything and doesn’t want to know. … She needs to suffer and to experience ecstasy through suffering. You need women, need to ejaculate your lust and loneliness into the bodies of women. She says she pays because she, too, is lonely and longs for understanding. Pays for love and enjoyment? Yes, she just wants and so she gives and also pays. And sells herself? Yes. And is wanton? And cheap! She rolls on top of you and you see her eyes glinting in the dark before you close your eyes and start calling out. …

11