A Madman's Diary

A Madman's Diary

Two men, brothers. Today I conceal their names, for they were both good friends of mine in my middle-school days. After many years apart, news of them had grown scarce. Recently I happened to learn that one of them was gravely ill. Having occasion to return to my old hometown, I made a detour to visit them, but met only one—the other's brother, who told me the patient was the younger. He thanked me for coming so far to see him, but said he had long since recovered and had gone to a certain place to await an appointment. Then he laughed heartily and showed me two volumes of a diary, saying they would reveal the symptoms of his illness at the time and might as well be offered to old friends. I took them home and read them through. I gathered that his illness had been something of the "persecution mania" type. The language was quite confused and incoherent, with much nonsense besides; there were no dates either, and since the ink and handwriting varied, I knew the entries had not been written at one time. Here and there were passages with some slight connection, from which I have selected one to provide material for medical research. Where the diary is mistaken, I have not changed a single word; but although the people mentioned were all villagers unknown to the world and therefore of no great consequence, I have changed all their names. As for the title, it was given by the man himself after his recovery, so I have not altered it.

April 2nd, the fourth year.

Tonight the moon is very bright.

I had not seen it for over thirty years, so tonight when I saw it my spirits felt unusually clear. Only then did I realize that the previous thirty years had all been spent in a daze; but I must be very careful. Otherwise, why should the Zhao family's dog have looked at me twice?

I have good reason to be afraid.

Today there was no moonlight at all, and I knew this was no good sign. That morning, when I ventured out carefully, Old Mr. Zhao's eyes looked strange: as if he were afraid of me, as if he wanted to do me harm. There were also seven or eight people whispering to each other about me. Afraid I might see them. Everyone along the way was like this. The fiercest among them opened his mouth and smiled at me; I felt a chill run from the top of my head straight down to my heels, and I understood their preparations were all complete.

I was not afraid, and went on my way as before. Ahead, a group of children were also discussing me there; their eyes were just like Old Mr. Zhao's, and their faces were all livid. I thought, what enmity do I have with children, that they should behave like this? Unable to restrain myself, I called out, "Tell me!" And they ran away.

I thought: what enmity do I have with Old Mr. Zhao, or with the people on the road? Only twenty years ago I gave Mr. Gu-jiu's old account book a kick, and Mr. Gu-jiu was very displeased. Old Mr. Zhao, though he did not know him, must have heard the rumors and taken up the cause of justice on his behalf; he must have made an agreement with the people on the road to make me their enemy. But the children? At that time they had not yet been born, so why today do they too stare with those strange eyes, as if afraid of me, as if wanting to do me harm? This truly frightens me, bewilders and saddens me.

I understand. Their mothers and fathers taught them!

At night I could not sleep. Everything must be studied before one can understand.

They—some had been put in a cangue by the county magistrate, some had been slapped in the face by a gentleman, some had had their wives taken by yamen runners, some had had their parents driven to death by creditors—their faces at those times were never as frightened, never as fierce, as they were yesterday.

The strangest thing was that woman on the street yesterday, beating her son, saying, "Damn it! I'll bite off a few mouthfuls to get my spite out!" But her eyes were fixed on me. I gave a start I couldn't hide; that crowd of green-faced, long-fanged people all burst out laughing. Chen Lao-wu came up and dragged me home by force.

Once dragged home, my family all pretended not to know me; their eyes too were just like everyone else's. When I entered the study, they bolted the door from outside, exactly as if shutting in a chicken or a duck. This affair made it all the more impossible for me to fathom what lay beneath.

A few days ago, the tenant from Langzi Village came to report the famine to my elder brother. He said that a great villain in their village had been beaten to death by the villagers; several of them had then dug out his heart and liver, fried them in oil, and eaten them, which would strengthen their courage. I put in a word, and both the tenant and my elder brother looked at me. Only today did I realize that their gaze was exactly the same as that crowd outside.

Thinking of this, I felt a chill from the top of my head down to my heels.

If they can eat people, they might well eat me too.

Look at that woman's words, "I'll bite off a few mouthfuls," and the laughter of that crowd of green-faced, long-fanged people, and the words of the tenant the other day—they were obviously code. I could see that his words were all poison, his laughter all knives, their teeth all lined up in rows of white gleaming fangs—these were the implements for eating people.

Thinking about it, although I am not a villain myself, ever since I kicked the Gu family's account book, it is hard to say. They seem to have their own designs, which I cannot fathom at all. Moreover, if they turn their faces, they call a man a villain. I still remember my elder brother teaching me to write essays: no matter how good a man is, if you turn a few phrases against him, he will circle them with red ink; but if you pardon a few words from a bad man, he will say, "A marvelous stroke of genius, quite out of the ordinary." How could I guess what was really in their minds, especially at a time when they wanted to eat?

Everything must be studied before one can understand. People have often eaten people since ancient times—I still remember that—but not very clearly. I opened the history book to look, but this history had no dates, and every page was covered with scrawling characters writing "benevolence and morality." I lay awake at night, and after studying it carefully for half the night, I saw words between the lines: the whole book was filled with two words—"eat people"!

The books are full of these many words, the tenant said these many things, yet they all stared at me with those strange eyes, smiling cheerfully.

I too am a man. They want to eat me!

That morning I sat quietly for a while. Old Wu Chen brought in a bowl of vegetables and a bowl of steamed fish. The fish had hard, white eyes and its mouth was open—just like that crowd of people who wanted to eat human flesh. After a few mouthfuls, I couldn't tell whether it was fish or human flesh, slippery as it was, and I vomited it all up, stomach and intestines and everything.

I said, "Old Wu, tell my elder brother that I'm terribly bored and want to take a walk in the garden." Old Wu didn't answer and left, but after a while he came back and opened the door.

I didn't move, studying how they were plotting against me. I knew they would certainly not let up. And sure enough! My elder brother came slowly, leading an old man. The old man's eyes were full of murderous light, but he was afraid I would see it, so he kept his head lowered toward the ground, watching me furtively from the sides of his spectacles. My elder brother said, "You seem rather well today." I said, "Yes." He said, "I've invited Dr. He today to give you a check-up." I said, "Fine!" But of course I knew this old man was a butcher in disguise! He was simply taking the name of feeling my pulse to gauge how fat or thin I was—and for this meritorious service, he'd get a share of flesh to eat too. I wasn't afraid; although I didn't eat people, my courage was greater than theirs. I held out two fists and watched how he would proceed. The old man sat down, closed his eyes, and felt for quite a while, then sat dazed for quite a while before opening his ghostly eyes and saying, "Don't let your thoughts wander. Rest quietly for a few days and you'll be fine."

Don't let your thoughts wander, rest quietly! Fatten me up, and of course they can eat more; what benefit would I get from being "fine"? This crowd wanted to eat people, yet they were sneaking and skulking, trying to cover it up, too afraid to act directly—it really made me want to die laughing. I couldn't hold back and burst out laughing, thoroughly delighted. I myself knew that within this laughter there was valor and righteousness; both the old man and my elder brother turned pale, overwhelmed by my courageous righteousness.

But because I had courage, they wanted to eat me all the more, to bask a little in that courage. The old man stepped out the door, and before he had gone far, said in a low voice to my elder brother, "Hurry up and eat him!" My elder brother nodded. So you too were one of them! This great discovery, though seemingly unexpected, was also within reason: the one who had joined in eating me was my own brother!

My brother is the one who eats people!

I am the brother of someone who eats people!

I myself am being eaten, yet I am still the brother of someone who eats people!

---

These past few days I have tried to reason the other way: even if the old man were not a butcher in disguise but genuinely a doctor, he would still be someone who eats people. Their ancestor Li Shizhen, in his *Compendium of Materia Medica* or whatever it was called, clearly wrote that human flesh could to be fried and eaten; how could he say he didn't eat people?

As for my elder brother, he is not wronged either. When he was explaining a book to me, he personally said that children could be "exchanged to be eaten"; another time, when we happened to discuss a bad person, he said that not only should the man be killed, but his flesh should be eaten and his skin used to make a mattress. I was still young then, and my heart pounded for half a day. The other day when the tenant from Wolf Village came to talk about eating people's hearts and livers, he was not in the least surprised and kept nodding. Clearly his heart was as cruel as before. Since children could be "exchanged to be eaten," anything could be exchanged, and anyone could be eaten. In the past I only listened to his reasoning and muddled through; now I understand that when he reasoned, not only were the corners of his lips still smeared with human grease, but his heart was fully stocked with the desire to eat people.

---

Pitch black—I couldn't tell whether it was day or night. The Zhao family's dog was barking again.

A lion's ferocity, a rabbit's cowardice, a fox's cunning…

---

I understood their methods. They wouldn't kill me outright, and they didn't dare to either, for fear of bringing misfortune upon themselves. So they all linked their nets and forced me to take my own life. Just look at how the men and women in the street behaved a few days ago, and what my elder brother has done these past few days, and you can figure out eight or nine parts of it. The best thing would be for me to untie my belt, hang it from the beam, and strangle myself tightly. They would have no charge of murder against them and their wish would be fulfilled; naturally they would all be overjoyed, letting out a sobbing, choking laugh. If instead I died of fright and sorrow, although I would be a bit thinner, they could still nod their approval a few times.

They can only eat dead meat!—I remember reading in some book about a creature called the *hyaena*, whose eyes and appearance were most unpleasant; it often ate dead flesh, even chewing up and swallowing the largest bones. Just thinking about it was frightening. The hyaena was related to the wolf, and the wolf was of the same family as the dog. The other day the Zhao family's dog looked at me a few times—clearly he was in on the plot and had already made contact. The old man kept his eyes fixed on the ground. How could he fool me?

The most pitiable was my elder brother. He was also a man; why was he not in the least afraid, and why did he join in eating me? Was he simply accustomed to it and didn't think it wrong? Or had he lost his conscience and was doing it knowingly?

I curse those who eat people, beginning with him; I want to persuade those who eat people to change, and I will start with him.

---

Actually, these principles should have been understood by them long ago by now…

A person suddenly appeared: about twenty years of age, his features not clearly visible, his face covered with smiles. He nodded at me; his smile did not seem genuine either. I asked him: "Is it right to eat human flesh?" He still smiling said: "If it were not a famine year, how could people eat human flesh?" I immediately understood that he too was one of them and was fond of eating human flesh. My courage increased a hundredfold, and I pressed him with my question.

"Is it right?"

"Why ask such a thing? You really... are joking... The weather is fine today."

The weather was fine, and the moonlight was very bright. But I wanted to ask you: "Is it right?"

He was evasive, answering vaguely: "No..."

"No? Then why do they eat people?"

"There's no such thing..."

"No such thing? The people of Wolf Village are eating people right now; besides, it's recorded in books, in letters red as blood!"

His face changed then, turning ashen green. Opening his eyes wide, he said: "Perhaps there is such a thing; it has always been so..."

"If it has always been so, does that make it right?"

"I won't discuss such principles with you; in short, you shouldn't speak of it. If you speak, you are wrong!"

I leapt up, opened my eyes wide, and this man had disappeared. A great sweat broke out all over my body. His age was much younger than my eldest brother's, yet he too was one of them; this must have been taught to him first by his parents. And probably they had already taught his son; so even the children glared at me ferociously.

Nine

They all want to eat men, and at the same time they are afraid of being eaten themselves. They all look at each other with the deepest suspicion....

If they rid themselves of such thoughts, it would be easy and comfortable to work, walk, eat, sleep. All that is needed is one step, one turning point. But fathers and sons, brothers, husbands and wives, friends, teachers and students, enemies, and even strangers, have all joined together and pledged each other to hold fast and never take this step.

Ten

Early in the morning I went to look for my eldest brother. He was standing in the courtyard door watching the sky. I walked up behind him, barred the door, and said to him with great calm and great gentleness:

"Elder brother, I have something to tell you."

"Go ahead and say it." He turned his face quickly and nodded.

"I have only a few words, but cannot say them easily. Elder brother, probably the primitive men ate a little human flesh. Later, because their minds changed, some stopped eating human flesh and tried to be good; these changed into real men. But some still eat it—just like insects. Some have changed into fish, birds, monkeys, and finally men; some who did not try to be good are still insects. Those who eat human flesh are vastly inferior to those who do not. They are probably far more inferior than insects to monkeys.

"Yi Ya steamed his own son and offered him to Jie and Zhou to eat, but that was a long time ago. Who knows, from the time Pangu created heaven and earth, people have been eating each other right up to Yi Ya's son; from Yi Ya's son right up to Xu Xilin; from Xu Xilin right up to the man caught in Wolf Village. Last year when a criminal was executed in the city, a man with consumption dipped a steamed roll in the blood and licked it.

"They want to eat me. You alone naturally can do nothing about it. But why must you join them? Those who eat human flesh are capable of anything. They will eat me, and they will eat you; even in their own ranks they will eat each other. But if you turn back, if you change your ways immediately, all will be peaceful. Although it has always been so, today we can be exceptionally good and say it cannot be done! Elder brother, I am sure you can say it. When the tenants asked for a reduction in rent the other day, you said it could not be done."

At first he only smiled coldly, then his eyes turned fierce. When their secret was exposed, his face turned completely ashen green. A group of people had gathered outside the gate. Zhao Gui-weng and his dog were among them, all craning their necks and pressing forward. Some were unrecognizable, as if their faces were covered with cloth; others still had ashen faces and grinning teeth, smiling with compressed lips. I knew they were all men-eaters. But I also knew their minds were not the same: some thought it had always been so and therefore it was right to eat men; some knew it was wrong but still wanted to eat men, and were afraid others would expose them; so when they heard my words, they became even more indignant, but smiled with compressed lips.

At this moment my elder brother suddenly showed his fierce aspect and shouted loudly:

"Get out! What is there to look at in a lunatic?"

At this moment I understood another of their cunning tricks. Not only would they not change, but they had long ago arranged everything; they had prepared the label of lunatic to cover me up. In future when they ate me, not only would no trouble arise, but perhaps there would be gratitude as well. When the tenants said they had eaten a wicked man, this was the method. This was their old trick!

Chen Lao-wu also came in indignantly. But how could they stop my mouth? I was determined to speak out to this crowd:

"You can change! You must change from the heart! You must realize that in the future men who eat human flesh will not be tolerated in the world.

"If you do not change, you will be eaten up yourselves. Even if you have many children, they will be wiped out by real men, just as when a hunter has finished killing the young wolves!—just like insects!"

That crowd was all driven away by Chen Lao-wu. My elder brother also disappeared, no one knew where. Chen Lao-wu urged me to go back inside the house. Inside it was pitch dark. The crossbeams and rafters trembled above my head; they trembled for a while, then grew enormous, piling themselves on top of me.

Unbearably heavy, I could not move; his intention was to kill me. I knew his weight was false, and I struggled my way out, drenched in sweat. But I insisted on saying,

"Change at once, change from the heart! You must understand that the future will have no place for those who eat people…"

Eleven

The sun did not rise, the door did not open, and every day there were just two meals.

When I picked up my chopsticks, I thought of my elder brother; I understood that my sister's death was also entirely his doing. At that time my sister was only five years old, and her dear, pitiful face was still before my eyes. Mother wept without stopping, yet he urged Mother not to cry; perhaps because he himself had eaten her, he felt somewhat guilty about it. If he could still feel guilty…

My sister was eaten by my elder brother. Whether Mother knew or not, I could not tell.

Mother must have known; but when she wept, she did not say so outright, perhaps thinking it was only right. I remember when I was four or five, sitting in the front of the hall to cool off, my elder brother said that when father and mother were ill, a son must cut a piece of flesh from his own thigh, cook it, and offer it to them to eat—only then could he be called a good man; Mother did not say it was wrong. If one piece could be eaten, naturally the whole could be eaten too. But the way she wept that day, thinking of it now, truly still breaks one's heart—this is indeed a most extraordinary thing!

Twelve

I cannot think.

For four thousand years, people have been eaten, and only today did I understand that I too have been among them for many years; my elder brother was managing the household, and when my sister happened to die, he most likely mixed her into the food and secretly gave her to us to eat.

Perhaps, without realizing it, I too ate a few pieces of my sister's flesh, and now it is my turn…

I, who have a forty-year history of eating people—though I did not know it then, I understand now—it is hard to see a true person!

Thirteen

Children who have not yet eaten people—are there any left?

Save the children…

(April 1918.)