Therefore, I chose to add my additional chapter to the ending of the book to give it a more suspenseful and dramatic ending. In my pastiche, I intend to explore the aspects of foreshadowing in the book, through the use of the enormous red beaked raven which meets Luo on the road to the Little Seamstress every time he goes there.
Thirdly, I will also explore the narrative perspective which Ma has, in which he only has a character narrative, as what he knows is only limited to what he sees and hears from his surroundings, for example he only knows the reason why the Little Seamstress left the village from what Luo had told him, and he has no other knowledge at all, showing he isn’t an omniscient narrator. I also intend to focus of the fairytale aspect of the book, in which Dai Sijie describes the setting of the book in a fashion which leads the reader feeling as if he or she is reading a fairytale. I intend to explore these aspects and elements by using these writing styles which Dai Sijie incorporates throughout the entire book into an additional chapter added onto the original ending of the book.
Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress Pastiche
She grabbed her bundle and strode off down the path.”Wait," I shouted, waving the sweet potato "come and have some of these! I made them especially for you!" at my first shout she hastened her step, at my second she broke into a run, and at my third she took off like a bird, growing smaller and smaller until she vanished. Even as I followed Luo back to the village, the horrible image of the Little Seamstress running away cut deeper and deeper into me. My heart wept and bled from a million cuts and I silently cursed Luo for ever having showed the Little Seamstress any of Balzac’s books, and for the intimate relationship which they had shared.
Walking back, the sky had turned a dark, dreary gray, looming over two of us, the majestic sunset blacked out by the gathering thunderhead above. “We need to find shelter before the clouds break.” My words reverberated off the tawny wall of the cliff, which became more ominous and treacherous in the prevailing darkness, shattering the awkward silence between us. “We should rest in the Little Seamstress’s house and wait for the storm to pass over before we return to the village”
“I can’t believe she left us here.” said Luo, sounding weak and out of breath compared to his usual deep, rich voice. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the beaten path and I patiently stood behind him, silently watching a bead of sweat slowly roll down the back of his neck. Luo’s lips moved again just as we set off for the village once more, but the words he said were blocked out in the ferocious howling of the wind building up for the imminent storm.
The Little Seamstress’s house came into sight half an hour later, a sanctuary from the vicious raindrops which pelted down like a barrage of arrows. I broke into a run and whisked past Luo, heading straight for the familiar doorway where we had first met the Little Seamstress and I had been captivated by her.
Staying in the house of the Little Seamstress unnerved me, with the tidal wave of memories it had brought back. The image of the Little Seamstress leaning over the delirious Luo in the dark, giving him a furtive kiss, played over and over again in my mind. I was jealous of how Luo’s overconfidence could have won her heart, yet I was saddened by the fact that the young lovers were now separated by the very thing that had brought them together, Balzac. What could she have possibly meant by “a woman’s beauty is a treasure beyond price”? The steady onslaught of the rain on the roof broke my thoughts and I fought to contain the leaks in the roof with as many pots as I could find. Luo simply sat on the Little Seamstress’s bed, where she had first kissed him, unmoving, eyes locked on the spot where she used to work the treadle of her Made in Shanghai. Throughout the whole night, the howling wind blew open and slammed shut the windows, a storm of destruction thrashing through and tearing apart my hope for life on the mountain.
The next morning, the storm had passed, displaying in the morning light the extent of the destruction it had caused. Passing the boulder on which the red beaked raven had been perched on the previous night, I saw that the rain had eroded the entire side of the cliff, except for a small perch, only a few inches wide which ran precariously along the side wall of the cliff. Those few inches were all that prevented a treacherous fall which would definitely prove fatal to anyone who failed to cross. Standing side by side, Luo and I traded a glance without exchanging a single word, staring at the seemingly bottomless chasm which stood before us. Ready to cross, I let out a few nervous breathes and tentatively tested the strength of the ruined path with a foot. Pebbles tumbled down the side of the cliff as parts of the path crumbled but the perilous pathway held, and step-by-step I crossed, willing myself to keep moving and not to look down. Standing on the other side, beads of sweat streaming down my face, I studied Luo as he stood there, his face a mask devoid of any emotions. Without any prior notice and without any hint of self preservation, Luo ran across, oblivious to the pathway crumbling beneath him and