Postcard from the Forbidden City

Story by Georgina Montgomery

It’s hot and humid and the rain is falling steadily. But it’s also a Sunday afternoon, the height of the summer holiday season, and no amount of steamy air and leaden sky is enough to keep thousands of Chinese families and a handful of laowai (foreigners) away from one of Beijing’s major attractions: the Palace Museum. Aka the Imperial Palace. Aka the Forbidden City. The provocative name, the renowned magnificence, and a World Heritage Site stamp of approval overpower our small discomforts. Wet-footed commoners the lot of us, we herd willingly for the privilege of gaining access to this fabled complex.

wet day, wet visitors. - Shelagh Montgomery

Passing first beneath Chairman Mao’s billboard-sized portrait at Tianammen Gate, we advance toward the Meridian Gate, the main entrance. What I know of this ancient compound beforehand is minimal but thrilling:

·         This was the centre of power in China for 500 years. It was built as a city within a city, the official residence of the Ming and Qing dynasties which produced 24 Chinese emperors, Sons of Heaven. Now nearly 600 years old, it’s listed by UNESCO as the largest collection of preserved wooden structures in the world.

·         It was “forbidden” – as in, off limits – to everyone but the Royal Family and their staff of thousands. (Nonetheless, knowing the place was once heavily populated with concubines and eunuchs, I’m stuck notionally on “forbidden’ – as in, ‘forbidden fruit.”)

·         The film The Last Emperor was shot here. The emperor in question was Pu Yi, three years old when he was named to the throne and six when forced to abdicate in 1912. After many years living abroad, he returned to China , where he died in 1967. It’s reported he visited his ancestral home in the 1960s, by which time the state had opened it to a curious public made up of people like me.

Entrance ticket in hand, I’m keen to get inside and soak up all this mystery and grandeur, but circumstances are conspiring against me. With so many people and the Damn of a Thousand Raised Umbrellas, it’s difficult to see anything big or small. The scaffolding and tarps of extensive construction zones don’t help. In the day’s dull light, I see dreariness, not the exotic splendour I expected. I steel myself to be underwhelmed.

Mere minutes later, however, we have shuffled north and on through the Gate of Supreme Harmony. Spread before me is a 10,000 square metre courtyard and rising beyond that the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the highest structure in the city. The enclosed vastness of it all is arresting. At almost the same instant, I find myself taking in the wet glistening roof tiles all around, the painted doors and columns near where I stand, the tiled walls, the marble bas-relief carvings, the decorative metalwork. Where before all seemed grey, now all I see is colour: deep golden yellow (preserve of the Chinese emperors), intense greens and blues, and luscious reds with luscious names like vermilion and cinnabar.

green tile, red shutters - Shelagh Montgomery

A distinguishing feature of Chinese painting is shifting perspective – the way an artist pushes a viewer to see things both far and near from a single position. I’m suddenly living it in that moment, with the rain, heat and crowds forgotten.

In scale, the Forbidden City is dazzling, by the numbers and as strolled on foot. Its rectangular footprint covers an area of 720,000 square metres (nearly three times the size of Beacon Hill Park). Enclosing all of this is a wall 10 metres high, and surrounding it is a moat 52 metres across and 6 metres deep. Inside are more than 800 buildings and a reputed 9,999 rooms – 1 room short of Heaven’s 10,000 rooms. The exquisitely symmetrical arrangement of the buildings and open spaces within the complex is in keeping with Chinese architectural tradition. The precision of this layout extends from the Outer Court in the southern section right through to the Inner Court in the northern section. Emperor Yong-lo – he who conceived of the palace while planning his new capital, Beijing, in 1405 – positioned the imperial compound on the intersection of the capital’s north-south and east-west axes. Here, according to his astrologers and other advisors, was the centre of the universe. The north-south meridian bisects the Forbidden City and its regal buildings, and of course runs beneath the imperial throne.

Six main palaces dominate the city, while several smaller ones sit off to the side. The three large ones in the Outer Court were where the emperor conducted the nation’s business; the other three in the Inner Court served as the royal family’s living quarters, with the Imperial Garden lying adjacent. Off the main courtyards and connected by myriad alleyways were hundreds of storehouses, workshops, stables and servants’ quarters. Over the centuries, many of the buildings, including the main palaces and gates, were damaged or destroyed by fire. Most structures are restored to their original form, however, so the city’s layout remains unchanged from Yong-lo’s plan.

At one time the city is thought to have housed as many as 9,000 people. This included the emperor, his wives, concubines and children, other members of the Royal Family, and then all the rest – courtiers, guards, servants, clerks and artisans. Eunuchs made up a large percentage of this labour force. These castrated male servants carried out a wide range of jobs but posed no threat to the purity of the royal lineage.

metal dragon detail - Shelagh Montgomery

The pursuit of Chinese arts and culture was well supported during periods in the Forbidden City’s 500-year history. No less common, but certainly less lofty, were also the usual imperial court pursuits of power struggles, vendettas and corruption. As I stand near a dragon-engraved stone balustrade or pause on a bridge crossing the Inner Golden River, I can’t help but feel that somebody in the royal court might have once stood at this very spot scheming a dastardly vengeance – or maybe composing a poem (poetry being akin to competitive sport in past Chinese courts).

We leave the Forbidden City through the Gate of Spiritual Valour. Postcards in the post-Qing gift shop show the complex under brilliant blue skies, with courtyard vistas immaculately free of people and power tools. When in the city’s history, I wonder, would it ever have been so empty or quiet or maintenance-free? I leave the cards and bow to lessons of shifting perspective.

The Forbidden City ( Palace Museum) is open to visitors year-round. It contains the largest collection of cultural relics in China . Admission in August 2005 was 60 RMB (about $12) for adults. Children “below 120 cm” get in free, and women get in for half price on March 8, International Women’s Day.