Unveiling Oriental Identities - Oriental Women in Theatre, Literature and Film.

From film “The Toll of the Sea” [1922] where an American man marries and deserts an Asian woman, to Julie the hated ex-girlfriend and naïve character from sitcom “FRIENDS”, the longevity of Orientalism has seen to push down the Orient time and time again, to submit as the inferior, feminine opposition.

At the root of this, it is clear to say that the Orients identity is malleable, subservient and exploited.

Yet as harrowing as this sounds, I must admit, these identities form the backbone for many riveting works of art, fashion and theatre, and as a literature blogger, I would be insane not to talk about it. 

Arguably, the perfect medium to do so, is post-modernist play M Butterfly [1988] by David Henry Hwang which maximises this Oriental narrative - a pastiche of Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly” Opera in 1904. After all, it is not every day that we see a French diplomat have a romantic relationship with a male spy (Song Lilling) disguised as a woman for 20 years! 

Underpinning this narrative…Orientalism.

So, what is Orientalism?

Orientalism can be accounted for by Edward Said, given that he coined this theory in his seminal work “Orientalism,” saying that the world itself were a binary division of “two geographic entities,” the Occident (West) and Orient (East) that “support and to an extent reflect each other.” His theory went to further stipulate that between the Occident and Orient lies “a relationship of power… and varying degrees of a complex hegemony.” (The West being that hegemon, of course) where the Occident is a masculine, ‘big guns’ power, and the Orient an obedient, exotic and feminine mystique. In simple terms, the power ladder of the world placed our strong West at the top echelon and mystical East at the bottom. 

So where does M Butterfly fit in?

To be true to the play, it revolves entirely around Orientalism (subverting it, endorsing it, mocking it). However, focusing on the Western configurations of Oriental women breeds very powerful, paradoxical aesthetics. For M Butterfly, Song Lilling’s 15 fragmented and elaborate costume changes become emblematic of her ability to oscillate between these identities.

(Whilst the dramatic irony of Song being a male, and communist spy is pivotal to the narrative, for arguments sake, we will only declutter the period where Song is subject to the Oriental women’s representation.)

The Lotus Blossom [China] or Geisha Doll [Japan]

The most fetishized of all is the Lotus Blossom identity, and the docility and obedience enclosed within it. Bestowed with a fragile, hyper-feminine exterior with “little or no voice," the Lotus Blossom is said to be “based on western male sexual fantasy… interwoven with sexual domination” (Shrake, 2006, p. 188) as the Occident praises the ultimate control they wield at the hands of the Lotus Blossom woman – “the perfect woman.” M Butterfly’s Song Lilling, despite weaponising this aesthetic to exploit the Occident, harnesses the Lotus blossom as a potent tool. The Pecking Opera performer is able to glide effortlessly through the stage entering “dressed in a Chong Sam," curling “up at [Gallimard’s] foot,” and later “changing into wedding kimono.”

Costuming

The sartorial element of a Chong Sam unveils the first layer of this identity, utilising root meanings in Chinese culture as the garment is a supreme symbol of beauty to be worn at formal events, such as weddings. The wedding Kimono, evident in its name, holds the exact same connotations of marriage (however more in relation to Japan’s “Geisha Doll”), and, it is for this reason that Hwang decided to costume Song in this way - promoting the illusion that she is delicate and willing to be wedded by Gallimard by ascribing her to fit perfectly as the "demure, but most of all an obedient" (Chen, 2021) lotus blossom, or “doting wife dedicated to her marriage.” (Evans, 2022)

Discourse

Likewise, the passivity of the Oriental woman is just as important to this identity - her almost self-depreciating consciousness of her own inferiority. Once again Song Lilling projects this aspect of the Lotus blossom through borrowing the Orientalist discourse littered throughout Puccini’s opera by referring to herself as “delicate Oriental woman” with “a small, frightened heart.” Being merely “a Chinese Girl,” Song’s submissive lexical choices of “frightened” “small” and “delicate” intentionally diminishes herself to adhere neatly to the Lotus Blossoms “little to no voice” which Gallimard praises.

The ultimate, fetishized, Lotus Blossom.

Toxic. Isn’t it?

The Dragon Lady 

Moving on, we can perhaps compare France's “femme fatale,” to the next identity, the Dragon Lady, which under Orientalism, was underlined as a “sex object to be exploited.” Fashion, intertwined with film becomes apparent in Hwang’s work as Song appears in a "doorway, looking like Anna May Wong," wearing a "black gown from the twenties." This change into sexually charged costuming indicates a shift in Song’s identity here. 

Film & Fashion

Prolific Anna Mae Wong is the secret to verifying this “Dragon Lady” caricature here. Not only was she repeatedly represented in American film as the "fierce dragon lady,” but her sleek, black gown ‘look’ was a staple to the seductive and cunning connotations the identity is said to be – take “Daughter of Shanghai” [1937] as an example.

This darker palette of clothing and teasing use of Song’s gown practically spells out “Dragon Lady” for audiences who know that the Chinese spy is willing to use her “sexuality as a dangerous weapon." (Tran, 2021)

However, like Anna Mae Wong, who was either “shot by a jealous lover” or “accidentally impaled on a sword” (Hsu, 2004), Song’s time perpetuating the Dragon Lady identity also ends messily. Within minutes of being in the “black gown”, she asks Gallimard to leave her apartment as her contortion to the aesthetic presses her to be “strapped inside this westerners dress” and the “forwardness of [her] actions, make [her] skin burn.” 

The ultimate, cunning, yet victimised Dragon Lady

Toxic. Isn’t it?

Western Essentialism 

Undoubtedly, from what has been discussed so far, Oriental women have two very constrictive, paradoxical identities to conform to. However, what about the whole of Asia? Does there exist the same dichotomy?

Well, it takes less than one Act in M Butterfly to realise that Asia is somewhat vague in the Occident eyes - Song Lilling is in fact Chinese and the fantasy Gallimard projects upon her is that of a Japanese woman. Beyond that, a careful eye would notice that Song regularly “wears a Japanese kimono whilst wearing Chinese stage makeup.”

Modern Media

Historically, this type of appropriation and blending of elements of Asian cultures is not too rare. Just recently Trump labelled Covid 19 as “Kung Flu” from Asia – not nicknaming Covid from where it originated from, but blaming the entire of Asia instead? Odd. 

Similarly, Japanese kabuki theatre and Beijing opera is fused in Song’s disorderly Chinese makeup and Japanese clothes, creating this hybrid culture that Western audiences perceive to be “Asia” – a monolithic race. It is this exact perspective that fuels Gallimard’s own hubris as he projects a Japanese narrative on a Chinese ‘woman,’ and sells himself as the perfect delusional victim to a Mao Communist MALE spy. 

Ironic. 

At the end of the day, these identities exist. More than that, they pervade our literary cannon on multiple occasions (M Butterfly only one of them) and attribute sparse, destructive stereotypes upon Asian communities. I would love to say that these identities are figments of a colonial past, but the issues do still subsist – Trump’s “Kung Flu” is just one example. 

As demoralising as that is, we can still put our hats down to David Henry Hwang for amalgamating a text hidden with these gems of identity, but more so, unfolding them out in a play that mocks how inaccurate and performative they are. 

Xoxo. We love David.