This cover for The Bitter Tea of General Yen, which was came in 1949 from Popular Library, could have been painted by Rudolph Belarski. It’s funny we’re guessing, because we just said his art is instantly recognizable. Oh well. Usually he managed to place his signature where it wasn’t easily covered by publishers, but not always. He was collaborating with Popular Library a lot during this period, and it looks like his work, but without his signature we can’t say it’s him—or really anyone else. But while the cover is officially by an unknown, it does fit into our collection of women being toted hither and yon on mid-century paperbacks. You can see those here.
The novel was first published long before the paperback—way back in 1931. The story is set in China, and follows Megan Davis, who has traveled there during a time of civil war to marry a medical missionary. Turbulent circumstances lead to her being assaulted by a crowd and presumed dead. But she’s actually rescued and placed under the protection of the anti-communist General Yen Tso-Chong of the book’s title. The general plans to take the utmost care of Megan because her safe return will be a propaganda coup. But while in his villa he and Megan discuss their different cultures, religions, politics, and views of current events:
“In capturing the city of Nanking the troops of General Chen Chien got a little out of hand. War, you know, does not bring out the best qualities of tolerance and self-control; that is one reason why we Chinese are so unfitted for it.”
“But what was the incident?”
“A number of people were shot and some were killed, missionaries largely, Doctor Williams of the Nanking College, some ladies, the British Consul too, I believe.”
“Shot by Chinese?”
“By troops, yes.”
“But that is an outrage!” cried Megan, overwhelmed with anger. “We are not at war with you!”
“No? Well, at any rate your gunboats, in retaliation, fired on the unarmed, civilian population of Nanking, killing hundreds. But after all, why should you and I talk about it?”
“I don’t believe they fired on the civilian population, or if they did, they must have been forced into it.”
The General shrugged his shoulders.
That’s a very appropriate exchange for our current times, but Megan and Yen’s verbal jousting is interesting only to a point. In the end Zaring Stone is restrained enough to leave the politics unresolved, and brings the book to perhaps the only conclusion that fits. Now that you know the plot, you may be pondering the cover and asking yourself, “Who’s the studly Anglo carrying the damsel in distress?” He doesn’t exist in the narrative. It’s General Yen who saves Megan. But Popular Library, we suppose, didn’t want a Chinese man to star in that role on newsstands. Welcome to 1949.
In any case, Hollywood liked the 1931 hardback enough to adapt it into a 1933 film directed by Frank Capra, with the always amazing Barbara Stanwyck in the lead. We’d normally be leery of any movie made during that time depicting Chinese people (the title role is played by Danish actor Nils Asther), but you gotta give Stanwyck and Capra a shot, right? Like, it’d be neglectful of any cinephile not to watch it. So we’ll let you know when/if we circle back to it.
