Letter from the Editor: Control Your Soul

Ho Lin

Art by Jidi Majia

This spring, we’ve witnessed military invasions, economic unease, fears of global war, even musings on nuclear annihilation—which to these fifty-something ears sounds an awful lot like the 1980s. (What goes around truly comes around.) Sprinkle some COVID on top, and you have an impressive amount of existential dread, enough to fuel nightmares (and hopefully some retaliatory idealism and kindness) for quite a while.

Dread has its uses, as George Orwell can attest, for thoughts of the ’80s naturally lead us to Orwell’s 1984. Shanghai is currently receiving its own taste of the Orwellian Now: China, strictly adhering to its “zero COVID” policy, has forced the city’s residents into a lockdown that’s well into its second month. Jackbooted and suited security officials in hazmat gear, movement outside the home monitored and prohibited, entrances to apartment buildings chained up, infected citizens herded into “quarantine camps,” food scarcity and mass distress—the true stuff of dystopian nightmares. But not to worry. Dragon Television, one of Shanghai’s most well-known TV networks, announced an “anti-pandemic” variety show special (“With concerted effort, let’s protect Shanghai together”) that would celebrate the city’s response to the virus, featuring special performances such as a magic act called “Good luck, Shanghai!” and a song titled “Spring Is Coming,” performed by a children’s choir. Videos have circulated of drones dispatched by the local government to fly over apartment complexes, repeating the same pre-recorded phrase over and over: Please control your soul’s desire for freedom. Do not open the window or sing.

What can one do in the face of Big Brother? Within Orwell’s text lies a seed of resistance, in opposition to the words of bureaucrat-cum-torturer O’Brien: “You must love Big Brother. It is not enough to obey him: you must love him.” Fortunately, we’re still a long way from obeyance, let alone love; we still have the power of response. One can indeed open the window and sing (or scream), as thousands of Shanghai residents have done. And a fair number of screams were heard on China’s social media about Dragon TV’s anti-pandemic variety show, resulting in its almost immediate cancellation. As my colleague Christopher noted in a previous letter from the editor, sometimes a little panic and cold sweat is required to rouse us.

In the spirit of allowing voices to shout and scream (and yes, sing), we’re honored to feature a particularly spirited voice in our spring issue: Jidi Majia, one of China’s most well-known and honored contemporary poets. His art in all its forms underscores the urgent need for freedom and engagement, while celebrating our differences and commonalities. (No controlling this soul.) We’re also pleased to welcome Steven Hill, a longtime friend of this journal and a formidable writer in his own right, to our ranks, and look forward to featuring his prose and poetry in this and future issues.

We hope you enjoy hearing from these souls, as well as the others in this issue, even as you strive to preserve your own. We’re leaving our windows open, and we’re ready to sing.

Ho Lin is the co-editor of Caveat Lector. He is a writer and musician who resides in San Francisco. His work has appeared in Foreword ReviewsThe New York Journal of BooksYour Impossible Voice and The Adirondack Review. His books include China Girl and Other Stories and Bond Movies: A Retrospective.

Cover photo: Christopher Bernard
Art on this page: Jidi Majia