Because it is only in fiction that certain facts can be held up to the light.The novel it is, then, for this particular truth.The story I'm about to tell, you see, bears some resemblance to real characters and events.Or-if I may put it this way: life has imitated art, re-rehearsing the plot of Serve the People!Wu Dawang, Sergeant of the Catering Squad, now General Orderly for the Division Commander and his wife, stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a bunch of pak choi in hand, acknowledging a devastating new presence in the room. The wooden sign ordering its beholder, in bright red letters, to `Serve the People!' had moved from its usual place on the dining table and on to the kitchen work top. To the left of the exhortation, five stars gleamed; to the right, a water canteen dangled from a rifle while a luxuriant row of wheat bristled beneath.The pride of the entire division, an exemplar, a model of political correctness, the Sergeant enjoyed an extraordinarily well-developed understanding of the sign's symbolic language.
