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Long Tack Sam
Nov. 7th, 2007 09:23 pmThe crowds in San Francisco loved the act, with the flying Chinese acrobats, the elaborate costumes, and most of all, the string of patter from the elegantly dressed man who stood at the circle of the organized tumult. There had been other Chinese acts in the city this year, but none of them held the attention of the audience like he did.
Long Tack Sam was his name.
Later, after the paying customers had filed out, and his act had slowly made their way to the rented rooms for the night, he'd stand on the empty stage and stare out over the seats in silence. His tour manager had once asked him about it, but he couldn't explain himself outside of the Chinese dialect of his birthplace. English simply didn't cover the concepts he groped for, leaving the Irish man to leave with nothing more than the belief his boss was crazy, or that all Chinese were.
In the latter half of the night, he'd finally leave for his own room, speaking to no one, explaining to no one. But early in the afternoon, he'd assemble with the rest of his troupe in preparation for the new show of the next night.
It would start with songs; high lyric Chinese songs mixed with Western instruments and a pretty Austrian singer. Then they would come out, in leaping arrays and balance acts. Carrying banners trailing behind them like scarlet tongues, the sight of them swooping and circling drew appreciative cheers from the crowd. Their acrobatic antics would give way to Long Tack Sam, and a flurry of magical tricks and musical chants to excite the crowd further.
In the climax of the act, Long Tack Sam would produce a goldfish bowl out of thin air, while diving forward in a forward roll, followed by the men of his company. The impossible act drove them into a frenzy of applause. They felt like they were flying; soaring on the excitement of the act.
Long Tack Sam would bow, feeling the energy flow through him. Typical Westerners, believing that magic had to be a trick or an illusion. Their energy flowed through the complex ritual, feeding back to his teachers in China. The Kuomintang had encompassed more than just the peasants in China, and each American cheer was another step in the overthrow of the Xuantong Emperor. He'd smile and bow and stand in the empty stage afterwards to experience his revolution.
Long Tack Sam was his name.
Later, after the paying customers had filed out, and his act had slowly made their way to the rented rooms for the night, he'd stand on the empty stage and stare out over the seats in silence. His tour manager had once asked him about it, but he couldn't explain himself outside of the Chinese dialect of his birthplace. English simply didn't cover the concepts he groped for, leaving the Irish man to leave with nothing more than the belief his boss was crazy, or that all Chinese were.
In the latter half of the night, he'd finally leave for his own room, speaking to no one, explaining to no one. But early in the afternoon, he'd assemble with the rest of his troupe in preparation for the new show of the next night.
It would start with songs; high lyric Chinese songs mixed with Western instruments and a pretty Austrian singer. Then they would come out, in leaping arrays and balance acts. Carrying banners trailing behind them like scarlet tongues, the sight of them swooping and circling drew appreciative cheers from the crowd. Their acrobatic antics would give way to Long Tack Sam, and a flurry of magical tricks and musical chants to excite the crowd further.
In the climax of the act, Long Tack Sam would produce a goldfish bowl out of thin air, while diving forward in a forward roll, followed by the men of his company. The impossible act drove them into a frenzy of applause. They felt like they were flying; soaring on the excitement of the act.
Long Tack Sam would bow, feeling the energy flow through him. Typical Westerners, believing that magic had to be a trick or an illusion. Their energy flowed through the complex ritual, feeding back to his teachers in China. The Kuomintang had encompassed more than just the peasants in China, and each American cheer was another step in the overthrow of the Xuantong Emperor. He'd smile and bow and stand in the empty stage afterwards to experience his revolution.
