M. Butterfly

Lines from M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang.


I really enjoyed this play. Before, for a while I confused M. Butterfly with Giacomo Puccini's opera of a similar name, Madame Butterfly. Hwang uses the opera as a frame of sorts, an arc, throughout his play. Hwang's title is also devilishly clever, or so I think. The M is for Monsieur, in this case. Don't worry, there's reason for the ambiguous title-play on the opera.

In M. Butterfly, Gallimard works for the French embassy in China during the 1960s. He attends a performance of Madame Butterfly and falls in love with Song, the actor who plays the title character. However, Song is actually a male, and a spy, and uses Gallimard to gain intelligence on French and American going-ons in Vietnam.

Essentially, Hwang seeks to challenge the Western ideal of the mysterious Orient, so to speak, and the notion of Oriental women being submissive to men.

I find Hwang's plays really interesting. Maybe it's because I try to relate to them on some aspect, what with how he heavily writes about Asian-American themes.

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GALLIMARD: Marc, I can't . . . I'm afraid they'll say no - the girls. So I never ask.
(1.4)

GALLIMARD: The sad truth is that all men want a beautiful woman, and the uglier the man, the greater the want.
(1.5)

SONG: It's one of your favorite fantasies, isn't it? The submissive Oriental woman and the cruel white man. Consider it this way: what would you say if a blonde homecoming queen fellin love with a short Japanese businessman? He treats her cruelly, then goes home for three years, during which time she prays to his picture and turns down marriage from a young Kennedy. Then, when she learns he has remarried, she kills herself. Now, I believe you would consider this girl to be a deranged idiot, correct? But because it's an Oriental who kills herself for a Westerner - ah! - you find it beautiful.
(1.6)

MARC: All your life you've waited for a beautiful girl who would lay down for you. All your life you've smiled like a saint when it's happened to every other man you know. And you see them in magazines and you see them in movies. And you wonder, what's wrong with me? Will anyone beautiful ever want me? As the years pass, your hair thins and you struggle to hold onto even your hopes. Stop struggling, Rene (<-Gallimard). The wait is over.
(1.9)

CHIN: Actors, I think they're all weirdos. My mother tells me that actors are like gamblers or prostitutes.
(2.4)

RENEE: I -- I think maybe it's because I really don't know what to do with them -- that's why I call them "weenies."
GALLIMARD: Well, you did quite well with . . . mine.
RENEE: Thanks, but I mean, really do with them. LIke, okay, have you ever looked at one? I mean, really?
GALLIMARD: No, but I suppose when it's part of you, you sort of take it for granted.
RENEE: I guess. But, like, it just hangs there. This little . . . flap of flesh. And there's so much fuss that we make about it. Like, I think the reason we fight wars is because we wear clothes. Because no on knows -- between the men, I mean -- who has the bigger . . . weenie. So, if I'm a guy with a small one, I'm going to build a really big building or take over a really big piece of land or write a really long book so the other men don't know, right? But, see, I never really works, that's the problem. I mean, you conquer the country, or whatever, but you're still wearing clothes, so there's no way to prove absolutely whose is bigger or smaller. And that's what we call civilized society. The whole world run by a bunch of men with pricks the size of pins. (<---If I had to summarize why I like this bit, this would be the quote I pull from this monologue, hah.)
(2.6)

SONG: Miss Chin? Why, in the Peking Opera, are women's roles played by men?
CHIN: I don't know. Maybe, a reactionary remnant of male --
SONG: No. Because only a man knows how a woman is supposed to act.
(2.7)

CHIN: Actor-oppressor, for years you have lived above the common people and looked down on their labor. While the farmer ate millet --
SONG: I ate pastries from France and sweetmeats from silver trays.
CHIN: And how did you come to live in such an exalted position?
SONG: I was a plaything for the imperialists!
CHIN: What did you do?
SONG: I shamed China by allowing myself to be corrupted by a foreigner . . .
CHIN: What does this mean? The People demand a full confession!
SONG: I engaged in the lowest perversions with China's enemies!
CHIN: What perversions? Be more clear!
SONG: I let him put it up my ass!
CHIN: Aaaa-ya! How can you use such sickening language?!
SONG: My language . . . is only as foul as the crimes I committed . . .
CHIN: Yeah. That's better. So -- what do you want to do now?
SONG: I want to serve the people.
CHIN: What?
SONG: I want to serve the people!
CHIN: What?!
SONG: I want to serve the people!!
(2.9)

SONG: Okay, Rule One is: Men always believe what they want to hear. So a girl can tell the most obnoxious lies and the guys will believe them every time -- "This is my first time" -- "That's the biggest I've ever seen" -- or both, which, if you really think about it, is not possible in a single lifetime.
Rule Two: As soon as a Western man comes into contact with the East -- he's already confused. The West has sort of an international rape mentality towards the East. Do you know rape mentality? Basically, "Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes." The West thinks of itself as masculine -- big guns, big industry, big money -- so the East is feminine -- weak, delicate, poor . . . but good at art, and full of inscrutable wisdom -- the feminine mystique. Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes. The West believes the East, deep down, wants to be dominated -- because a woman can't think for herself.
JUDGE: What does this have to do with my question?
SONG: You expect Oriental countries to submit to your guns, and you expect Oriental women to be submissive to your men. That's why you say they make the best wives.
(3.1)