Old Black Joe and Other Songs

In May 1985, I went to Wuhan to attend the Huanghelou Writers' Forum. The Hubei Federation of Literary and Art Circles, acting as host for the event, invited us, writers from all over the country, to go on a delightful trip to the Three Gorges of the Yangtze River by luxury liner. Having previously visited the autumn scene of the Three Gorges, I now found it even more picturesque and enchanting in spring. On the same ship was an American tourist group headed by Nancy, daughter of famous US general Joseph Warren Stilwell, who served in China during World War II, fighting side by side with Chinese soldiers against Japan on the Yunnan-Burma front. When the ship arrived at the foot of Mount Goddess, we were in the midst of a get-together on deck. The American friends, clapping their hands, persistently called on us for a performance. So, to be friendly, we, including Zong Pu, Ai Wu, Zou Difan, Lu Yuan and Huang Chang, if I remember correctly, grouped together to sing in English the American folk song Old Black Joe. Our vocal performance, as expected, turned out lousy. We sang in a low and unclear voice, and evidently out of tune again and again. It was a very sad and plaintive song. The said Black Joe, being sick and tired of the mortal world, longs to go to a better world on hearing the gentle voice of his departed folks calling, "Old Black Joe!" Hence the refrain, "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
The song, full of pathos, was completely out of harmony with the joyous atmosphere of the moment on deck. Nevertheless, we won the warm applause of our American fellow travelers. Writers by profession, we felt quite self-satisfied after acting a role other than our own. But we felt pleased with ourselves not because of the warm applause, but because we were surprised to find ourselves still remembering the words of the song after so many years.
Both the lyrics and tune of the song were written by Stephen C. Foster, famous American composer of the mid-19th century. Born in 1826, he died in 1864, two years after the outbreak of the American Civil War, ending a life as short as 38 years old. Much to my regret, I haven't read any of his biographies yet. He must have had every sympathy with Black Americans and championed justice to them. I'm familiar with quite a few songs of his composition describing the sad plight of Blacks, such as Old Folks at Home(1851). I was happy to listen to famous Black singer Paul Robeson sing Old Man River at a concert in London. He then also sang our Song of Guerillas.
Strangely, Black people often sing of rivers in their songs, as witness "Way down upon the Swanee River, far, far away" in Old Folks at Home. It is perhaps because they were dying for water while toiling under White tyranny on the boundless stretch of arid land in the southern states.
Likewise, heaven often appears in their songs. It is because people in a hopeless situation often indulge in fantasies to free themselves from innermost sufferings.
Some of Foster's songs are nevertheless very lively. Take Oh! Susanna (1848) for example. It describes how a care-free cowboy, tilting his broad-brimmed straw hat sideway, is paying court to a girl he loves. It depicts not only the misery of the enslaved Blacks, but also their way of life. My Old Kentucky Home, for example, is a song full of local color. See the following genuine and vivid picture it gives of the life of the Blacks in the southern states: "The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom. While the birds make music all the day, the young folks roll on the little cabin floor." But the song still ends up with grief:
Weep no more, my lady, oh! Weep no more today!
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home,
For the old Kentucky home, far away.
Of course, not all American songs prevalent in China are about the life of Black people. One of them, I remember, is about American railway workers, showing the great hardship they suffered during the 19th-century westward development of the country.
Another foreign song popular in China during the thirties was The Song of the Volga Boatmen. Like the Sichuan labor chant, it describes the misery of Russian boat-trackers along the Volga River. They bend their shoulders to the tow-line, chanting in a loud voice, "Yo heave oh! Yo heave oh!" They inch forward laboriously, pulling the line hand over hand.
The erstwhile of these songs in China was no doubt due to their simple lyrics and catchy tune. But, I think, that is not the main cause. In fact, it had much to do with the deep sympathy of the Chinese people for Black Americans and Volga boat-trackers. Meanwhile, it also reflected our own feeling of resentment against foreign aggressors. In those days, dark portholes trained on Chinese residents were still lurking on top of the walls surrounding the Legation Quarter in Beijing. And turbaned Indian policemen were patrolling the streets of Shanghai. That also accounts for why Uncle Tom's Cabin was the first foreign play ever staged in China.
Songs often owe their popularity to the sympathetic response of the public.