One autumn day in 1974, with an air of extreme secrecy, a

friend of mine showed me a copy of Newsweek with pictures

of Mao and Mme. Mao in it. She could not read English, and

was keen to know what the article said. This was the first

genuine foreign magazine I had ever set eyes on. One sentence

in the article struck me like a flash of lightning. It said that

Mme. Mao was Mao’s “eyes, ears, and voice.” Up till that

moment, I had never allowed myself to contemplate the obvious

connection between Mme. Mao’s deeds and her husband. But

now Mao’s name was spelled out for me. My blurred

perceptions surrounding his image came sharply into focus. It

was Mao who had been behind the destruction and suffering.

Without him, Mme. Mao and her second-rate coterie could not

have lasted a single day. I experienced the thrill of challenging

Mao openly in my mind for the first time.