October 23, 2002

 

Chrysanthemum to Butterfly:
history of a stereotype

by Lydia Arnold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To find out more about this co-production of M. Butterfly, please visit charlotterep.org and syracusestage.org.

History lesson. John Luther Long wrote a novello called Madame Butterfly. It was 1898, and Long lived in Philadelphia. Japan’s isolation had ended with the Convention of Kanagawa in 1854. Japanese culture had been popular in America ever since. Fascination with japonaiserie thrived, and influences were seen in the decorative as well as fine arts. A sort of fable had sprung up: the story of a "sold bride" and her western lover. Sometimes the man was French, sometimes American. Sometimes she died, and sometimes she prevailed. The story was widely circulated; think of it like urban myth. There was an earlier novel entitled Madame Chrysanthemum, and an opera of the same name. Some versions agreed it took place in Nagasaki, and was the true story of Thomas Glover and his butterfly bride. John Luther Long’s sister, Jennie Correll, was a missionary in Nagasaki then, and his story is based, in part, on an incident she witnessed.

Never one to pass up a hit, Broadway impresario David Belasco produced his stage version of Madame Butterfly in 1900. Giacomo Puccini saw the show in London, while supervising a production of Tosca, and was inspired to set the story to music. Performed at the Teatro Grande in Brescia on May 28, 1904, it was a stupendous success: seven pieces had to be encored and Puccini took ten curtain calls. Madama Butterfly is laced with American references and Japanese melody. It is, ultimately, a westerner’s view of an imaginary Japan, and has continued to enjoy great success in this country. Isn’t Puccini’s music used in Billie Wilder’s 1960 film, The Apartment, as Fran Kubelik contemplates suicide, or am I dreaming that? The final notes of the closing aria are among the most beautiful and woeful ever written. Death is a beautiful thing.

In David Henry Hwang’s hands, the fable turns inside out. His Butterfly’s cocoon is a twentieth century Chinese opera house. In the postscript to the original script, Hwang cites his inspiration:

"It all started in May of 1986, over casual dinner conversation. A friend asked, had I heard about the French diplomat who'd fallen in love with a Chinese actress, who subsequently turned out to be not only a spy, but a man? I later found a two-paragraph story in The New York Times. The diplomat, Bernard Bouriscot, attempting to account for the fact that he had never seen his ‘girlfriend’ naked, was quoted saying, ‘I thought she was very modest. I thought it was a Chinese custom.’"

"Now, I am aware that this is not a Chinese custom, that Asian women are no more shy with their lovers than are women of the West. I am also aware, however, that Bouriscot's assumption was consistent with a certain stereotyped view of Asians as bowing, blushing flowers. I therefore concluded that the diplomat must have fallen in love, not with a person, but with a fantasy stereotype. I also inferred that, to the extent the Chinese spy encouraged these misperceptions, he must have played up to and exploited this image of the Oriental woman as demure and submissive."

And there you have the nascence of the play. Hwang’s diplomat has a passion for Puccini, which serves as leitmotif for his fantasy-induced deception. He sees his lover as he wants her to be. M. Butterfly is a story of what it means to be Asian, and female, and of how we can delude ourselves in the name of love. It is, finally, a deftly described conundrum. The real French diplomat, now in his 60’s, says, "I know, I know, in the newspapers I am this fat, stupid man who made love to a woman for 19 years and did not know. But this is not the way it was. And when I believed it, it was a beautiful story."

M. Butterfly, co-produced by Charlotte Rep and Syracuse Stage, is playing at the Booth Playhouse through November 10.

Lydia Arnold, October 23, 2002

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