Last fall in China, more than 400 million viewers-that’s nearly one-third of the country’s population, the largest television audience in China ‘s history-tuned in to watch the season finale of Super Girl, an American Idol-like singing competition for women. The winner was 21-year-old Li Yuchun from Sichuan province, who wooed the hearts of teenage girls across China with her notably boyish appearance, masculine stage presence and bold personality.
Li has never stated that she is a lesbian, but she has admitted that she identifies as
a “tomboy,” and her appearance and mannerisms clearly mark her-at least to Western eyes-as someone who challenges gender norms. In the context of contemporary China, whether or not she is a lesbian is actually less important than the fact that she
garnered the adoration of millions of girls to win a contest that was conducted in a democratic manner.
Li’s rise to stardom marks an important turning point in the meaning of Chinese womanhood and the development of a queer identity in Mainland China.
Although what we as Westerners would consider lesbianism-same-sex love and desire between women-has historically been tolerated in China just as same-sex love between men was tolerated in many traditional Asian societies, female same-sex relationships have always been subordinated to the demands of an androcentric, Confucian culture.
In other words, it’s all right for two concubines to fall in love with one another as long as their desires don’t prevent them from remaining married to a man and bearing him children. Even today, pressure to carry on the family line by having children-specifically sons-continues to force many gays and lesbians in China into heterosexual marriages.
Homosexuality has never been illegal in China, but Communist laws against “hooliganism” effectively outlawed homosexual activity until 1997, when that law was repealed. In 2001, the Chinese Psychological Association finally removed homosexuality from its list of mental disorders, but despite these clear advances, homosexuality-particularly lesbianism-is not widely tolerated in China today.
In contrast, Taiwan and Hong Kong have become increasingly tolerant of homosexuality, with vibrant queer scenes emerging in the last decade in both places. Taipei hosted its first gay pride march in 2003, and Hong Kong followed in 2004. University of Melbourne professor Fran Martin has noted that Taipei ‘s emerging lesbian culture has begun to intersect with feminist concerns, marking the development of a new public female identity separate from the traditional daughter/mother/wife roles that Chinese women are relegated to.
The Super Girl show reveals evidence of a Mainland effort to grapple with these issues: how feminism, gender and womanhood are becoming increasingly intertwined and challenging traditional Chinese culture and values.
Though all television stations in China are officially state-owned, the Changsha-based Hunan Satellite Television (the equivalent of a Chicago-based regional network),
which produced Super Girl, has undertaken a much more consumer-based and profit-oriented attitude toward programming than its big brother network, China Central Television (CCTV).
Known for producing popular favorites such as the reality show Who’s the Hero? that features people performing bizarre stunts, Hunan TV has approached programming with
a decidedly commercial angle, attempting to compete with international players such as MTV and Nickelodeon.
It is not surprising that a competition such as Super Girl arose from this regional upstart, but it is surprising that not one but two of the finalists (Li and runner-up Zhou Bichang) bucked thousands of years of traditional gender norms with the enthusiastic support of millions of teenage girls, who voted for their favorites by text message.
More than 120,000 women from five provinces in China competed in Super Girl, each vying for a shot at a record deal and pop stardom. Not surprisingly, official state reaction to the program, in which the girls belt out pop hits from around the world
(as well as a few select nationalistic anthems), has been one of condemnation.
The official statement from CCTV noted disparagingly that the show was “vulgar and manipulative,” and one of the most common controversies to emerge from the show
has been the fact that the winner, Li Yuchun, was not the best singer and boasted a particularly un-feminine appearance.
During her audition, Li dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, lacking makeup, and sang the song “In My Heart There’s Only You, Never Her,” a tune originally sung by Taiwan ‘s Liu Wenzhen, a man. During the course of the competition, Li continued to sing songs written for male performers, dressed in male clothing, and exuded a masculine charisma on stage that clearly struck a chord with the show’s audience of teenage girls.
One fan passed out fliers to encourage other viewers to vote for Li complete with a starstruck—and lovestruck—message, describing Li as a “no frills, natural girl who has control of the stage, and is not easily disturbed. She has no long skirts or long hair, and will challenge the traditional female idea. She is the Super Girl in my heart.”
Indeed, Li’s fans are so ardent they have invented a name for themselves—yumi, a word incorporating part of Li Yuchun’s name that in turn forms the word for “corn.”
During the finals, Li won by receiving 3.52 million text message votes, beating out runner-up Zhou Bichang, 20, who received 3.2 million votes. Interestingly, Zhou Bichang also sports a nontraditional feminine appearance, though the press has focused the vast majority of their attention on Li, who went on to grace the cover of Time Asia last October as one of 25 Asia’s Heroes of 2005.
Given the fact that nearly one-third of the country watched the finale of Super Girl, in which not one but two of the finalists obviously challenged traditional gender norms, it seems that China may be on the verge of beginning a long-needed dialogue about womanhood. It remains to be seen, however, whether Li continues to maintain her genderqueer appearance. She has recently been cast opposite Taiwan actor Chang Chen in a very feminine role—complete with long hair and girlish clothes.
Some Chinese scholars believe that the popularity of Super Girl and Li’s victory represent a deep-seated desire on the part of the Chinese people to have a voice in their political future, and to unseat the Communist Party’s control of the media.
But Li Yuchun’s victory may also be a reflection of the growing openness about homosexuality in China and, more significantly, a sign of the changing definition of what constitutes a woman. Her supporters are clearly questioning many of the traditional values and roles assigned to Chinese women—a step that is key to developing not only an open lesbian community but a feminist one.
