Old Version
Culture

Rhythm and Rhyme

From a disabled rural farmer to China’s most celebrated contemporary poet, Yu Xiuhua’s journey highlights how authenticity can inspire hope and provoke controversy. She is now bringing her bold self-expression to the dance stage

By Ni Wei Updated Oct.1

Poet Yu Xiuhua

I want to roll with you on a bed of wildflowers across 8,000 miles / Let the earth ache for a while / for this shallow love of ours.” 

These lines are from Yu Xiuhua’s poem “Beyond Half of China” in her latest collection, Blossoms on the Back Mountain. 

Born with cerebral palsy in 1976 in a small village in Central China’s Hubei Province, Yu was a farmer who endured an unhappy marriage for 20 years. Poetry has been her way to transcend the hardships of life. 

In 2014, Yu’s love poem “Crossing Half of China to Sleep with You” came as a surprise to the Chinese public. Her fame challenged prevailing stereotypes of rural women and those living with disabilities, her work openly voicing her desires for love and pleasure and her determination to end a loveless marriage. 

Since 2015, her debut poetry collection Moonlight Rests on My Left Palm has sold over 800,000 copies. She has sold nearly two million books, making her the best-selling contemporary poet in China in the last three decades. 

This May, Yu ended an eight-year hiatus with her latest collection, Blossoms on the Back Mountain. 

“It’s about pure love, great love and undying love, about my village, about the scenes I saw on the road, and the people I met. Everything I wrote about are things in my life,” Yu told NewsChina. 

Now, the poet has found a new love: dance.

Under the Spotlight 
One late evening this April at a lively pub in London, Yu Xiuhua sat in a corner and cried silently. She had just finished a dance rehearsal and felt disappointed in her performance. 

Since last year, Yu has participated in the dance theater production Ten Thousand Tons of Moonlight, staged and directed by the renowned dance producer Farooq Chaudhry. 

Heartbroken at seeing her so upset, Chaudhry tried to comfort her. She cried alone for two hours that night. 

That scene left a deep impression on Chaudhry. He was saddened by her tears, but was also proud of her. 

“It’s not like she was trying to please me or please anyone else. She was trying to please herself,” Chaudhry told NewsChina. “She really cared that she wants her dance to look good and feel good and for her to feel proud about how she expresses herself. To me, that’s the soul of an artist.” 

Ever since reading a New York Times feature about Yu in 2017, Chaudhry has followed her poems and life story. Born in Pakistan and raised in London, Chaudhry found Yu’s sense of being an “outsider” particularly resonant. 

“As a disabled woman, she’s an outsider. As a rural woman, she’s an outsider. She finds a really beautiful way not to be a victim, but to talk about what it means to be an outsider and see the world from a very unique perspective,” Chaudhry said. 

The title for Ten Thousand Tons of Moonlight is inspired by a line in Yu’s love poem “Determination”: “The grooves on my forehead run deep like so / Yet, they’re not enough. / Ten thousand tons of moonlight of mine have sunk into the sea / Yet, they’re not enough. / Even before I met you, I’d written a thousand love letters / but how can these be enough?” 

The dance production will debut in Shanghai later this year. 

“I love dancing very much. All art forms are similar at their core. Poetry is the rhythm of the heart while dancing is the rhythm of the body,” Yu told NewsChina.

Yu Xiuhua (left) rehearses with dancers from other countries

A scene from the theater production Ten Thousand Tons of Moonlight directed and produced by Farooq Chaudhry

Plot Twists 
Documentary filmmaker Fan Jian recorded Yu’s life in the award-winning film Still Tomorrow (2016). The film revolves around Yu’s poetry, her sudden fame, her struggles in marriage and her long-awaited divorce. 

Fan is continuing to document Yu. He hopes to record the poet’s life until the day she retires from the public eye. 

But that may be a while. Since gaining fame, Yu’s life has been scrutinized beyond her poetry. Over the past 10 years, her divorce, relationships and outspoken views on love, desire and women’s rights have captured public attention. 

In 2022, her relationship with Yang Chuce, a 32-year-old beekeeper, drew intense interest. Fourteen years her junior, Yang has a young daughter from a previous marriage. 

Their story unfolded like a drama: They went public with their relationship on New Year’s Day, often displayed affection during livestreams, shared sweet moments on social media and took wedding photos despite not being married. Yu also wrote poems about him. 

However, on July 6, 2022, they had a fierce quarrel during a livestream. Soon after, Yu posted on Sina Weibo that Yang had cheated on her, violently choked her and slapped her “over 100 times.” They broke up the next day. 

This failed romance has dramatically changed her views on love. “It’s not as necessary as I thought. Love is the icing on the cake, never a must in life. It’s not indispensable at all,” Yu told our reporter. 

“Sadly enough, now I fear that the thing I wanted to prove and my past journey to find love were all wrong,” the poet said. 

Despite her skepticism, love is still Yu’s muse. In the foreword of Blossoms on the Back Mountain, she writes, “This book is still about romantic love. Love still fills my heart. At times I feel a little ashamed of the overflowing love in me. Every tiny spark of love is like gold when one’s capacity to love is near bankrupt. Now when I ponder on the subject of love, reason threatens my passion more and more. I feel horrible about such a change in me but can do nothing about it.” 

“The most terrible thing is that many people in the world treat such placidity as a kind of virtue – it’s the saddest thing for sure,” Yu continues.

Yu Xiuhua signs copies for fans at an event for her latest poetry collection Blossoms on the Back Mountain, Wuhan, Hubei Province, July 20, 2024 (Photo by VCG)

Yu Xiuhua (center) takes a photo with her readers at an event for her latest collection Blossoms on the Back Mountain, Wuhan, Hubei Province, July 20, 2024 (Photo by VCG)

Cover design for Blossoms on the Back Mountain

Knives Out 
During a Q&A session at an event promoting Yu Xiuhua’s new book in Beijing, university student He Si stood on her tiptoes and raised her hand high. A fan of Yu’s work for years, this was her first time meeting the poet in person. 

The student shared her story of cyberviolence, which nearly ended in suicide. 

Attractive, easygoing, and high-achieving, He said she had been popular on campus. However, her excellence drew envy and malice from those around her. For three months, she was relentlessly attacked, slandered and slut-shamed on the school’s online message boards. By checking the IP addresses, He discovered that one of the cyberbullies was a close friend. 

In her darkest moment, He stood on the roof of a campus building with one foot outstretched. It was a line from Yu’s work that pulled her back from the edge: “One who really wants to live will not die.” 

Moved by He’s story, Yu shared her own experiences of verbal abuse, slander, slut-shaming and cyberbullying. “I could have died hundreds of times. But do not leave this beautiful world to bad people,” Yu said. Then she switched to an amusing tone, adding, “Let me teach you a way. Stab those who hurt you with a kitchen knife,” which got a laugh from the audience. 

When asked if she considered how her works affects readers, Yu told NewsChina that she views poetry as an extremely personal endeavor. She tends to avoid thinking about public impact when she writes or talks about her work. 

But Yu has endured years of abuse on social media. Her work, remarks and strong personality have provoked criticism, with some targeting her disability. Although Yu never shies away from online debates, she has admitted to crying all night on multiple occasions due to cyber violence.
 
Chaudhry provided his take on why Yu draws both compliments and attacks: “If you say something that is powerful and from the heart, it’s naturally going to divide people.” 

“China needs this kind of icon, this person who gives them courage, power and inspiration, to accept their own desire and sexuality, and to accept who they are and to live in the world,” Chaudhry added.

‘No Big Words’ 
Unlike most writers who undergo a lengthy learning process in managing the media and public, Yu showed exceptional skill from the start. 

“She is a natural-born genius not only in writing but also in thinking and talking,” Yang Xiaoyan, who helped Yu publish four collections, told NewsChina. 

During interactions with media and the public, Yu often speaks in a witty, paradoxical and half-joking manner, both amusing and challenging her audience. She remains vigilant when media attempts to label her with “big words,” deconstructing them with humor, wit and ambiguity. 

In her essay “To Live, Say No to Big Words,” compiled in her 2018 essay collection Rejoice for No Reason, Yu listed four labels that media, critics and netizens particularly like: suffering, tenacity, role model and purpose. 

“By what standard do you judge my life as ‘suffering?’ Of course, disability may first come to mind. […] It’s undeniable that a disabled body causes lots of trouble and denies me of many possibilities. But one thing is equal: The soul in this body feels the world no less than anyone else’s. That’s crucial. True happiness comes from deep within the soul, not without,” Yu wrote. 

When asked about what poetry means to her in our interview, Yu once again answered with her typical wit and sarcasm, “Do I really need to be rescued by poetry? I need to be rescued by a man.” 

Yu manages to preserve the truest and sincerest part of herself in poetry. In 2019, she published the semi-autobiographical novel Lingering in the World and finished a 50,000-word novella this spring. “You can kill off your characters in fiction, but you can’t do that in poetry. Poetry is true and sincere. A poet should never lie in poetry,” Yu told NewsChina. 

She delves further in her foreword for the collection Blossoms on the Back Mountain. “In my daily life, I am always a bit lax and idle. […] Poetry often pulls my wandering heart back to my body after a day of aimless drifting. It’s like a tunnel: when I enter, the entrance closes behind me, allowing me to carefully reflect on my gains and losses and find my place in the world.” 

“I am so fortunate to have found the way that suits me best, using the truest words to place myself in the world, with all hardships becoming mere garnishes,” Yu writes.

Print