"Making His Muscles Work For Himself": An Interview with David Henry Hwang - Asian-American playwright

Literary Review, Wntr, 1999 by Bonnie Lyons

You've been something of a spokesman for the Asian-American community. Do you find that a burden, an opportunity, or some combination of the two?

Different times it's been both. One part I reject is the idea of being what I call the Official Asian-American, the assumption that I or Amy Tan or Maxine Hong Kingston or any one person can give everyone else a quick primer on what it is that Asians feel. Obviously any person can only speak for himself or herself. But if my visibility can be useful to illuminate or contribute to a social conversation, then I am satisfied with having the opportunity and responsibility.

At one time you said that you felt pressure from both sides of the Asian-American community. From the right for airing dirty laundry in public, and from the left for being too "whited out." Has that changed over the years?

Pressure from the right has eased off because of the success of M. Butterfly--it's something like "If the whites like you, we have to like you too." Some leftist people have accused M. Butterfly of perpetuating negative notions about Asians, male emasculation for instance. Some people are unhappy that I have this Asian guy on stage in a dress for two acts. And certainly I've been criticized for inappropriate use of Chinese mythology. Nobody likes to be criticized, but the debate over my plays seems to be useful for the Asian-American community. It allows Asian-American audiences to define themselves in relation to a particular artist by either rejecting or accepting that person's vision. They can say, "I like The Joy Luck Club but I don't like David's work" or vice versa. My work like Amy Tan's or Maxine's can be used as a way of thinking about Asian-American culture. And those kinds of comparisons are useful to undermine the notion of the Official Asian-American voice.

Your mother's family were born-again Christians and you had a fundamentalist background. When did you leave those beliefs behind? And was it wrenching for you?

It was during my sophomore year of college and, yes, it was very difficult. Being an ex-fundamentalist is like being an ex-Catholic. There's a lot of guilt involved and on some level you fear you're going to hell. On the other hand I have to say that breaking away was one of the things I'm most proud of in my life. It really was something I had to do to get my muscles to work for me. But because my family was monolithically Christian, I thought it would separate me from my family forever.

Was your rejection of Christianity related to the idea of Christianity as a tool of white imperialism?

In retrospect I might be able to justify it on that level, but the real reason for leaving was much more personal. It was the rejection of a kind of fundamentalist mindset. The rejection of the idea that there is immutable truth that needs to be reached and then preserved. For the same reason I am opposed to the idea of an immutable Asian-American identity. My rejection of fundamentalist thought parallels my belief in fluid identity.