The themes of isolation, distrust and dehumanization are woven throughout the eighth chapter of Ji Xianlin’s The Cowshed: Memories of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Totalitarianism inspires and demands the existence and constant performance of these three things because it is how consolidated power remains consolidated.
The chapter begins with a reference to Lu Xun “who pointed out that at least animals do not lecture their victims on why it is right that they be eaten” (Xianlin 55). In making this reference, Xianlin constructs an incredibly clear power dynamic. Held in a cowshed, Xianlin is literally and metaphorically treated like livestock, with his captors being his cruel caretakers. This image is augmented by words that would indicate a sort of performance. In detailing one of the struggle sessions that he endured, Xianlin writes that “the show began” (55). Xianlin’s body is objectified not only for purposes of punishment, but as a sort of warning to all those who would oppose Maoist thought. As he describes the painful ordeal, Xianlin writes that he remembers slogans ringing out. Slogans, much like a refrain in church, do not require much thought or critical judgement. Slogans are, in this way, incredibly impersonal. It is at this moment that the narrative shifts to the themes of isolation and dehumanization.
Xianlin writes that “[he] was dimly aware that [he] was only a minor character” (56). He then writes that “it felt as though the entire cafeteria had gone silent, and [he] was the only person in it, the only person in the university, in Beijing, in all China” (Xianlin 56). The cruelty directed at his physical body compelled Xianlin into a sort of protective isolation. Unable to imagine that the men carrying out his punishment had retained their humanity, Xianlin launches himself into a place entirely apart. He writes that he “felt like a sailboat lost at sea or a fox surrounded by hounds. The slogans were making [him] dizzy, and [he] gave [himself] up for lost” (Xianlin 57). This conscious effort to isolate himself from the struggle session is augmented by the lack of specificity the crowd in the cafeteria seems to attach to him. Xianlin writes that he “seemed to have earned just about every counterrevolutionary title in existence” (59). At this point, the confrontation is not between Xianlin and the guards who are abusing him. It is more akin to an ideological battle, with physical bodies standing in as the ideologies.