He's Been Tricked, He's Been Backstabbed and He's Been Quite Possibly, Bamboozled.

He's Been Tricked, He's Been Backstabbed and He's Been Quite Possibly, Bamboozled.

Written by Pierce Brady

SPOILER WARNING

What degree of acting skill is required by a man to utterly convince another man that he is, in fact, a woman? And then further, what level of naivety is necessary to rope this man into a relationship lasting over two decades – all the while maintaining the façade of being a woman? At this point, most people would certainly doubt that acting and naivety are the only two forces at hand given the duration of the relationship and the apparent intimacy of the relationship. They would think, “Surely the secret would have come out at least once,” whether that be a slip of the tongue, another party seeing through this convoluted web of lies or just simply noting the obvious anatomical difference. Like, for the love of God – HOW DO YOU MISS IT WHEN YOU’RE BOTH NAKED? Yet somehow, using whatever kind of black magic he seemingly had access to, Chinese spy, Shi Pei Pu managed to work this fantasy and brought it to life at the expense of French diplomat, Bernard Boursicot’s own (career and social) life.

What Actually Happened?

A more in-depth account of this case was published on May 11, 1986, in Richard Bernstein’s special to the New York Times, reporting on a peculiar case of a “Former French diplomat and Chinese opera singer” who were “sentenced to six years in jail for spying for China”. The diplomat, Bernard Boursicot had been “stationed in Peking two decades ago” while in his early twenties and had met “a popular Chinese opera singer, Shi Peipu” with whom he had fallen in love and mistakenly believed to be female. Their relationship continued for 20 years and throughout the entirety of which, Shi’s true identity remained unbeknownst to Boursicot. When questioned on whether he knew about Shi's identity, he adamantly stated he had always believed his lover to be female. The impressive and undoubtedly complex life story that this report briefly touches on sparked the interest of Chinese American author and librettist, David Henry Hwang who pounced on this idea to weave a story that would undoubtedly go on to be recognised as one of the greater pieces of modern drama: “M Butterfly”.

Official Trailer for 1993 Adaptation of M Butterfly

The Meat

Now, why should you read this play? Why should you watch it? Honestly, this has to be one of the most interesting plays I’ve heard of – especially for those willing to engross themselves in websites, trying to understand why? It can be read as encompassing contemporary themes such as gay relationships, transgenderism, male and female roles and racial stereotyping which often emerges as it is portrayed in – or in counterpoint to – the similarly named Italian opera, “Madama Butterfly”. These thought-provoking themes, Liling Song’s dry wit and quick thinking (especially after Rene Gallimard ever so eloquently asks, “I want to see you… naked.”) in addition to Gallimard’s apparent lack of eyes culminate in a zany and playful, yet intellectually satisfying piece.

What's It About?

Although a work of fiction, M Butterfly closely follows the stories of Boursicot and Shi and plays intelligently with racial tropes – placing particular emphasis on those evident in Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa’s opera “Madama Butterfly”. Very briefly – as I’m sure you don’t particularly want to read about a completely different performance – Madama Butterfly follows the story of the “cruel white man” and the “passive Oriental”. As is the nature with these tragic pieces, the girl, a geisha named Cio-Cio-san or 'Butterfly', kills herself after realising that she was never truly loved by Lieutenant Pinkerton, when he returns to Japan with his “proper” American wife, Kate. The opera must hold a very special place in Gallimard’s heart as it is this exact opera that he bothered to watch the first time he sees his “Perfect Woman” (Liling Song) perform. He also seems to have fixated on this ideal a little too much, considering that it is this memory of Song replaying in his head like a broken record while he sits alone and incarcerated decades after this fateful encounter.

Meet Gallimard

This is also where we first meet 65-year-old, present-day Gallimard: in prison! If anything, this first scene is mostly a self-mockery where he claims to be “the life of every social function in Paris” and, indeed, most of the world. With the unfortunate power of hindsight, he mocks himself for getting caught up in such a bizarre scandal and this show of mockery continues through to the third scene. Here, Gallimard introduces his “ideal audience” (us) to Madama Butterfly; the reason why we should be “begging to learn [his] secrets! For [he], Rene Gallimard,” has “been loved by… the Perfect Woman.” At this point it feels like Gallimard has slipped too far down the slope of self-deprecating humour and has begun to genuinely manifest it and this is kind of hinted at when he takes on the role of Lieutenant Pinkerton, who is “not very good-looking, not too bright, and pretty much a wimp”. And honestly, however unfortunate it may be, this describes Gallimard pretty well – especially the “not too bright” part. 

Anyway, after adopting this fantasy persona of Pinkerton, Gallimard’s later actions begin to make sense: he was willing to believe in Song’s “act” because he was so desperate to play the part of the “cruel white man” to his “Butterfly”, a part he hadn’t played his whole life and yet, ironically, it was he who was betrayed and he who (*spoiler alert*) felt that whipping out the hara-kiri knife was his only option to escape this “shame”, breaking out of his cocoon to realise he was the enamoured and idealistic Butterfly all along. 

The entire time, Song had manipulated Gallimard’s willingness to adopt this Pinkerton persona by playing the role of Butterfly to match. Through his interactions with Song, Gallimard could experience what he had assumed to be natural for other Western men, influenced by media and texts such as his favoured Madama Butterfly. Song plays the meek and submissive Asian girl with flawless improv skills, bringing Gallimard a relationship entirely different to his own passionless marriage to Helga and his brief stint with the “too uninhibited, too willing, so as to seem almost too… masculine” Renée. And despite the “want” that Song reveals to hold for Gallimard and Gallimard’s clear desire for Song (or at least, the ideal female Song plays), the hit Gallimard takes to both his ego and reputation from being publicly outed as either gay (with the stigma that brought during the 1900's) or gullible ends up being tragically fatal.

Word Count: 1098