The eyes of SuYen
Act I of an erotic tale taking place in Hong Kong
fille de Chine

"........the death of some ones, weights more
than mount Taichan, that of others,
weights less than a feather..................."

Sema Tsien.
(Those pages are to be viewed only by those persons who promiss to prevent access to minors or other ill-advised persons in compliance with the laws of their countries.
Click to go back to the Home page.)
(The full enjoyment of this moment of sexual ecstasy is conditional to the complete loading of image and sound files.)


The train crosses rapidly, the Chinese countryside between Kuangchou and Hong Kong. Multiple building sites come merging with the landscape like so many wounds: road infrastructures, cities in gestation, signs of a too fast expansion and a cohabitation with Hong Kong, the beautiful and proud prostitute who must reinstate the family circle on July of this year.

The beautiful passenger, sitting on the bench in front of me, must also re-integrate Hong Kong. Or, how will they let a Chinese citizen escape, through such an official way, without risking not seeing her reinstating the vast Chinese prison invented by those wretched thinkers of Maoism? This beautiful passenger, with her bridle eyes, recalls me, thirty years after the event, my meeting with SuYen.

Shenzhen
The train crosses slowly the new, immense and insipid town of Shenzhen, dedicated to the manufacturing-production, born from a modest village that did not appear on the maps in those times; the train will not stop at the border, it will cross, imperturbable, this formerly escapeproof border.

Concession de Hong Kong
I have a squeezing in my heart with the idea of seing Hong Kong again, and the places that marked my meeting with SuYen. The eyes of the beautiful Chinese passenger, sometimes, fixed my eyes as if she was reading through my mind. Would she be the reincarnation of the strange SuYen whose memory haunts me? I could sense my distress at the idea of seeing again the places of our meeting, as the train goes deeper and deeper into the new territories.

Nouveaux territoires
I just travelled through this country that haunted my dreams since 1968. I travel around China at that time, along its Southern border, trying, without any success, to get in, from Pakistan, from Nepal, from India, or from Hong Kong; China was then, unrelentingly closed. It took thirty years of my life before I could go through this closed and mysterious frontier.


Garde-rouge At that time, China was impenetrable. The Maoists had not yet conquered Hong Kong and they hardly started to install their professional agitators at the Bank of China, at the Chinese Emporium, at the Red Flag daily newspaper or at some other official institutions. The Maoist paranoia haunted the university campuses of Occident. Spoiled children raised the pavements of Paris. Beyond the new territories, the Cultural revolution was making cultural and social devastations that time would never manage to repair. And the actors of this planned inquisition, the former red guards I met during my tour of China, do not dare today, acknowledge they were active witnesses of these events.

The train speeds up towards Hong Kong and I only grab a small portion of all the mystery of this immense country, like that of the beautiful passenger sitting on the bench in front of me, she constantly fix me of her large eyes shaped like almonds, similar to the eyes of SuYen, the beautiful and mysterious SuYen; and I cry still, while I imagine the eyes of SuYen.


les yeux de SuYen




Marco Polo or the imaginary journey (Contes et légendes asiatiques, translated from french, mars 1997) © 1997 Jean-Pierre Lapointe
Photos by the author taken in 1968 and 1996

ACT II