Beauty and Sorrow: A True Story of Ruan Lingyu

Author: Dai Yan (Compiler)
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-06-08
Features: She, born into a poor family, with a brief life of twenty-five years, performed for us a life drama filled with melancholy and sorrow. She once had a vibrant youth, but in its vibrant moments, she snuffed it out; she once had a full life, but in its fullest moments, she suffocated it; she once had a natural, untraceable performance, but in its natural moments, she stopped. Men only saw her as a "mirage in the mirror and water in the moon," yet she sought to rely on them. Her life's mission seemed to be finding this reliance, with acting becoming merely a "hobby." If she couldn't find it, she would search again; if she still couldn't find it, she would search once more. At the age of twenty-five, she decided to stop searching.
A slender and delicate figure, a graceful demeanor, long and expressive eyes, the charm of "smoky gazes and alluring strides," a floral-edged, high-cut, checkered cheongsam—these were her external beauty. Her all-consuming dedication to the acting career, her portrayal more real than reality, her expressive eyes that spoke volumes, her pure and transparent style, her genuine "acting talent," and her irreplaceable status in the film industry—these were her "beauty as an actress."
Hoping, disillusioned, disillusioned, hoping—despite the despair in her emotional life, her figure remained noble and composed, her posture elegant and measured. This was her inner beauty—she possessed an endless beauty.
Six years old, she lost her father and, together with her mother, worked as a maid in wealthy households, doing laundry, cleaning shoes, and struggling on the brink of life and death. She had no childhood, no joy, and tasted the bitterness of the world from a young age. In men's fantasies, she became a star; on the path to stardom, she stepped into the realm of "mirage in the mirror and water in the moon." Men only saw her as a "mirage in the mirror," but she took it seriously, treating the "mirage" as real flowers and the "water moon" as real moons, mistaking men's opportunistic warmth for something she could rely on. She knew she shouldn't give her heart, but she couldn't force herself to be insincere—she had an endless sorrow.
She was a legend in the history of Chinese cinema. At the age of twenty-five, she left behind the words "The words of others are fearsome" and left this world. The writer Lu Xun wrote an article in her memory. She once shared the same stage with the famous actress Hu Die, "racing neck and neck." Mei Lanfang once regarded her as "China's Mary Pickford." She was praised as a "beautiful and pure film artist." She once soared to fame, beloved by countless fans. Most of the roles she played seemed to end in tragedy. It was as if she had known her fate long ago, as if it was predestined.
Recommended for the following readers: teenagers or adults, poor children or wealthy offspring, those new to the world or those seasoned and cunning, sincere people or insincere ones, those who live for art or those who use art as a tool.