Social stratification survey and literary remediation strategies in the "General's Chant" trilogy plan

As a literary researcher and sociological analyst of General's Chant, I have delved into the textual archaeology of Mo Yingfeng's creative notes. By cross-referencing these notes with the socio-historical background, I discovered that the author intended to depict a painful transformation. This transformation shifts from a narrative of military power to a panoramic social epic in his "trilogy plan." This article aims to analyze the author's unfinished General's Chant trilogy plan, exploring the missing and reconstructed aspects of its social class dynamics. In doing so, I hope to provide a deeper understanding of the typical environment of the Cultural Revolution.

A Paradoxical Analysis of the Living Realities of Rural Classes and Their Original Revolutionary Aspirations

In his notes, Mo Yingfeng reflects deeply on the "insufficient depiction of rural areas in the first part." This was not merely a lack of geographical detail; it represented a strategic blind spot in constructing the epic's typicality. Introducing a rural perspective into the third part is essential for building the epic quality of the work.

When reconstructing the psychological landscape of Generals Peng Qi and Chen Jingquan's return to their hometowns of Yiyang and Liuyang, we must confront the starkly divisive truths of class division. The generals' initial revolutionary aspirations were forged in the raw energy of "promoting communism in Liuyang, writing slogans on the soot." This simple, earthy ideal envisioned a utopian society. However, when they witnessed the reality of rural Hunan in the 1970s—the alienated labor under the work-point system, the factionalism within production teams caused by material scarcity, and the abject poverty recorded in their "Yiyang Observations"—they encountered a violent clash between the "fruits of revolution" and their "original revolutionary aspirations."

This sense of reality is not an abstract deduction. It stems from the accumulation of Mo Yingfeng's own experiences. In early 1969, he returned to his hometown of Yiyang and Taojiang from Guangzhou to visit relatives. In his diary, he recorded a rural world completely covered by political symbols: "Every household displayed 'Three Loyalties'," and private spaces were occupied by ideology. The physical experiences of being blocked by the bitter cold, carrying heavy loads on foot, and feeling afraid at night made "the countryside" no longer a mere narrative background. Instead, it became a tangible reality of survival. His visits and contacts with poor and lower-middle peasants further revealed the irreconcilable gap between real life and the promises of revolution.

In this interweaving of experience and reflection, Mo Yingfeng elevates rural writing to a more somber level in his trilogy conception. He explicitly states that he wants to depict the peasants "suffering from all sorts of disasters." The root of these disasters is not external shocks but rather the alienation and imbalance within the system. The distortion of power at the grassroots level causes revolutionary ideals to be reversed in reality, even leading to extreme behaviors like "tying up the Party Secretary," which possess a tragic rationale.

This narrative of "disaster" in the rural strata should not be limited to cheap sympathy for poverty. Instead, it should be seen as a catalyst for the old generals' reflection on the hardening of the entire bureaucratic system and the alienation of bureaucracy. By completing this stratum's reality, the work's realistic depth expands from a simple "power struggle within the army" to a profound interrogation of the dysfunction of society. This establishes an epic bridge connecting "revolutionary ideals" and "disillusioned reality."

The Vanishing "Conservatives": A Sociological Completion of the Factional Structure of the Cultural Revolution

In the narrative of the Cultural Revolution, the absence of a "conservative" perspective easily reduces the so-called "factional struggle" to a black-and-white power struggle. Mo Yingfeng emphasizes the importance of the "two factions problem" in his notes. He realizes that the lack of a "conservative" social dimension in the first part undermines the authenticity of the typical environment.

We must dissect the sociological composition of the "conservatives" (royalists). They mainly consist of model workers, veteran Party members, and government officials—beneficiaries or maintainers of the existing order. Their motivation is not inherently reactionary but is based on a stable logic rooted in a "political contract." Take veteran Red Army soldier Hu Liansheng as an example. The inherent logic of his conservative stance is powerful. He resolutely refused to allocate 20,000 yuan for painting the "Red Ocean" mural because his memory was etched with the material scarcity of the early revolutionary period. This stance of using "revolutionary frugality" to counter "political fetishism" reflects not only Hu Liansheng's personal conscience but also a last line of defense within the conservative class based on traditional revolutionary morality.

The remedial strategy should involve constructing a multi-dimensional power struggle arena in subsequent works through the class-based perspectives of Zou Yan (an active member of the work group) or Hu Liansheng. This would restore the "conservatives" from being labeled "villains" to class entities with survival logic and social motivations. This return to perspective can transform the Cultural Revolution narrative from a "monologue of radicals" to a "confrontation between different class perceptions." Such a shift would greatly enhance the sociological depth of the work.

Generals' Compounds and Cultural Troupes: The Class Rift of the Power Elite's Children

Around 1967, Nanyu City served as a microcosm of identity anxiety and political disillusionment among the children of the power elite. In his source code, Mo Yingfeng precisely depicted this special class of "children of high-ranking officials" through symbols such as "piano keys" and "Beijing candied fruit."

The social class portraits of elite offspring like Peng Xiangxiang, Xiao Pao, and Xiao Ya are filled with tension. They experience a sense of superiority alongside a crisis of reality. They once lived in a material vacuum supported by power, enjoying luxuries like pianos, expensive Western medicine, and specially supplied food. However, with their fathers being denounced and their mothers committing suicide (as in the tragedy of Xiao Pao's mother), this process of reproducing their "revolutionary aristocratic" status came to an abrupt end. They faced collective disillusionment, moving from "the fantasy of independent living" to "the fall of their social class." This disillusionment inevitably transforms into deeper cynicism or political awakening in the third part.

At the same time, we must pay attention to the "selfish middle class" represented by Wu Zhong (secretary) and Liu Xuyun (nurse/wife). Liu Xuyun uses medicine as a "political tool" to climb the social ladder, while Wu Zhong calculates the costs of escaping and defecting when the "big tree" is about to fall. They serve as the "opportunistic lubricant" of the bureaucratic machine, connecting the general's compound with the outside world.

In contrast, Zhao Daming's sobering awareness as the "son of a worker" is described as "atypical" by the author in his notes. To increase his typicality, Zhao Daming's sense of class identity should be strengthened. His "elite love" for Xiangxiang should be transformed into a cross-class perspective. The internal rupture within the elite class and the indifferent observation of lower-class migrants together constitute typical manifestations of the instability of the social structure during the Cultural Revolution.

Conclusion: The Reconstruction of the Typicality of "General's Chant" Based on the Depth of Social Class

For the "Trilogy Project," an in-depth exploration of the social class dimension is key to its transformation into a "panoramic social epic."

By introducing a narrative of rural survival disasters, the work rediscovers its lost revolutionary foundations. By restoring the social logic of conservatives, it escapes the shackles of political caricature. When we intertwine the class fall of the "compound children," the shattering of the old general's original aspirations, and the survival struggles of grassroots farmers, General's Chant transcends a simple "power reshuffling within the army." Instead, it becomes a history of violent upheaval affecting every nerve ending of Chinese society. This broad class perspective ultimately reconstructs the work's typicality, giving it a true epic quality that connects "revolutionary memory" with "real-world suffering."