The entire information age? Was George Orwell right about 1984?” At that moment a screen
came down from the ceiling and showed a preview of an upcoming sixty-second television ad for
the Macintosh. In a few months it was destined to make advertising history, but in the meantime
it served its purpose of rallying Apple’s demoralized sales force. Jobs had always been able to draw
energy by imagining himself as a rebel pitted against the forces of darkness. Now he was
able to energize his troops with the same vision.
Jobs was at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan, preparing for the press previews, so a Sunday morning
conference call was scheduled. The software manager calmly explained the situation to Jobs, while
Hertzfeld and the others huddled around the speakerphone holding their breath. All they needed
was an extra two weeks. The initial shipments to the dealers could have a version of the software
labeled “demo,” and these could be replaced as soon as the new code was finished at the end of
the month. There was a pause. Jobs did not get angry; instead he spoke in cold, somber tones. He
told them they were really great. So great, in fact, that he knew they could get this done. “There’s
no way we’re slipping!” he declared. There was a collective gasp in the Bandley building work space.
“You guys have been working on this stuff for months now, another couple weeks isn’t going to make
that much of a difference. You may as well get it over with. I’m going to ship the code a week from
Monday, with your names on it.”
“Well, we’ve got to finish it,” Steve Capps said. And so they did. Once again, Jobs’s reality distortion
field pushed them to do what they had thought impossible. On Friday Randy Wigginton brought in a
huge bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans for the final three all-nighters. When Jobs arrived at
work at 8:30 a.m. that Monday, he found Hertzfeld sprawled nearly comatose on the couch. They talked
for a few minutes about a remaining tiny glitch, and Jobs decreed that it wasn’t a problem. Hertzfeld
dragged himself to his blue Volkswagen Rabbit (license plate: MACWIZ) and drove home to bed.
A short while later Apple’s Fremont factory began to roll out boxes emblazoned with the colorful line
The “1984” adReal Artists ShipThe high point of the October 1983 Apple sales conference
in Hawaii was a skit based on a TV show called The Dating Game. Jobs played emcee,
and his three contestants, whom he had convinced to fly to Hawaii, were Bill Gates and
There was one more hurdle: Hertzfeld and the other wizards had to finish writing the code for the
Macintosh. It was due to start shipping on Monday, January 16. One week before that,
the engineers concluded they could not make that deadline.
two other software executives, Mitch Kapor and Fred Gibbons. As the show’s jingly theme
song played, the three took their stools. Gates, looking like a high school sophomore, got
wild applause from the 750 Apple salesmen when he said, “During 1984, Microsoft expects
That put all the more pressure on the Macintosh, due out in January 1984, three months away,
to save the day against IBM. At the sales conference Jobs decided to play the showdown to the hilt.
He took the stage and chronicled all the missteps made by IBM since 1958, and then in ominous tones
described how it was now trying to take over the market for personal computers:
“Will Big Blue dominate the entire computer industry?
to get half of its revenues from software for the Macintosh.” Jobs, clean-shaven and bouncy,
gave a toothy smile and asked if he thought that the Macintosh’s new operating system would
become one of the industry’s new standards. Gates answered, “To create a new standard takes
not just making something that’s a little bit different, it takes something that’s really new and
captures people’s imagination. And the Macintosh, of all the machines I’ve ever seen,
is the only one that meets that standard.”
But even as Gates was speaking, Microsoft was edging away from being primarily a collaborator
with Apple to being more of a competitor. It would continue to make application software, like
Microsoft Word, for Apple, but a rapidly increasing share of its revenue would come from the
operating system it had written for the IBM personal computer. The year before, 279,000 Apple IIs
were sold, compared to 240,000 IBM PCs and its clones. But the figures for 1983 were coming in starkly
different: 420,000 Apple IIs versus 1.3 million
Just when the Apple sales force was arriving in Hawaii, this shift was hammered home on the
cover of Business Week. Its headline: “Personal Computers: And the Winner Is . . . IBM.”
The story inside detailed the rise of the IBM PC. “The battle for market supremacy is already over,”
the magazine declared. “In a stunning blitz, IBM has taken more than 26% of the market in two years,
and is expected to account for half the world market by 1985. An additional 25%
of the market will be turning out IBM-compatible machines.”
He didn’t actually want to leave Reed; he just wanted to quit paying tuition and taking classes that didn’t interest him. Remarkably, Reed tolerated that. “He had a very inquiring mind that was enormously attractive,” said the dean of students, Jack
Dudman. “He refused to accept automatically received truths, and he wanted to examine everything himself.” Dudman allowed Jobs to audit classes and stay with friends in the dorms even after he stopped paying tuition.
“The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting,” he said. Among them was a calligraphy class that appealed to him after he saw posters on campus
that were beautifully drawn. “I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.”
It was yet another example of Jobs consciously positioning himself at the intersection of the arts and technology. In all of his products, technology would be married to great design, elegance, human touches, and even romance. He would be in the fore
of pushing friendly graphical user interfaces. The calligraphy course would become iconic in that regard. “If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the
Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer would have them.”
In the meantime Jobs eked out a bohemian existence on the fringes of Reed. He went barefoot most of the time, wearing sandals when it snowed. Elizabeth Holmes made meals for him, trying to keep up with his obsessive diets. He returned soda
bottles for spare change, continued his treks to the free Sunday dinners at the Hare Krishna temple, and wore a down jacket in the heatless garage apartment he rented
for $20 a month. When he needed money, he found work at the psychology department lab maintaining the electronic equipment that was used for animal
“But who would believe that the world is but full of disappointments! On the succeeding day,
it came about that the kidnapper again sold her to the Hsüeh family! Had he disposed of her to any other party, no harm would anyhow have resulted; but this young gentleman Hsüeh, who is nicknamed by all,
‘the Foolish and overbearing Prince,’ is the most perverse and passionate being in the whole world. What is more, he throws money away as if it were dust. The day on which he gave the thrashing
with blows like falling leaves and flowing water, he dragged (lit. pull alive, drag dead) Ying Lien away more dead than alive, by sheer force, and no one, even up to this date,
is aware whether she be among the dead or the living. This young Feng had a spell of empty happiness; for (not only) was his wish not fulfilled, but on the contrary he spent money and lost his life; and was not this a lamentable case?”
When Yü-ts’un heard this account he also heaved a sigh. “This was indeed,” he observed, “a retribution in store for them! Their encounter was likewise not accidental; for had it been, how was it that this Feng Yüan took a fancy to Ying Lien?
“This Ying Lien had, during all these years, to endure much harsh treatment from the hands of the kidnapper, and had, at length, obtained the means of escape; and being besides full of warm feeling,
had he actually made her his wife, and had they come together, the event would certainly have been happy; but, as luck would have it, there occurred again this contretemps.
“This Hsüeh is, it is true, more laden with riches and honours than Feng was, but when we bear in mind what kind of man he is he certainly,
with his large bevy of handmaids, and his licentious and inordinate habits, cannot ever be held equal to Feng Yüan, who had set his heart upon one person! This may appositely be termed a fantastic sentimental destiny,
which, by a strange coincidence,
Nurse Wang, Tzu Chüan and other girls entered at once upon their attendance on Tai-yü in the green gauze rooms,
while Pao-yü‘s wet-nurse, dame Li, together with an elderly waiting-maid, called Hsi Jen, were on duty in the room with the large bed.
This Hsi Jen had also been, originally, one of dowager lady Chia’s servant-girls. Her name was in days gone by, Chen Chu.
As her venerable ladyship, in her tender love for Pao-yü, had feared that Pao-yü‘s servant girls were not equal to their duties,
she readily handed her to Pao-yü, as she had hitherto had experience of how sincere and considerate she was at heart.
Pao-yü, knowing that her surname was at one time Hua, and having once seen in some verses of an ancient poet,
the line “the fragrance of flowers wafts itself into man,” lost no time in explaining the fact to dowager lady Chia, who at once changed her name into Hsi Jen.
This Hsi Jen had several simple traits. While in attendance upon dowager lady Chia, in her heart and her eyes there was no one but her venerable ladyship,
and her alone;
and now in her attendance upon Pao-yü,
her heart and her eyes were again full of Pao-yü,
and him alone. But as Pao-yü was of a perverse temperament
and did not heed her repeated injunctions, she felt at heart exceedingly grieved.
At night, after nurse Li had fallen asleep, seeing that in the inner chambers, Tai-yü,
Ying Ko and the others had not as yet retired to rest,
she disrobed herself, and with gentle step walked in.
“How is it, miss,” she inquired smiling, “that you have not turned in as yet?”
As she uttered these words, she speedily took the jade over from the hand of the waiting-maid, and she herself fastened it on for him.
When Pao-yü heard this explanation, he indulged in reflection, but could not even then advance any further arguments.
A nurse came at the moment and inquired about Tai-yü‘s quarters,
and dowager lady Chia at once added, “Shift Pao-yü along with me, into the warm room of my
suite of apartments, and put your mistress, Miss Lin, temporarily in the green gauze house; and when the rest of the winter is over,
and repairs are taken in hand in spring in their rooms, an additional wing can be put up for her to take up her quarters in.”
“My dear ancestor,” ventured Pao-yü; “the bed I occupy outside the green gauze house is very comfortable; and what need is there again for me to leave it and come and disturb your old ladyship’s peace and quiet?”
“Well, all right,” observed dowager lady Chia, after some consideration; “but let each one of you have a nurse, as well as a waiting-maid to attend on you;
the other servants can remain in the outside rooms and keep night watch and be ready to answer any call.”
At an early hour, besides, Hsi-feng had sent a servant round with a grey flowered curtain, embroidered coverlets and satin quilts and other such articles.
Tai-yü had brought along with her only two servants; the one was her own nurse, dame Wang, and the other was a young
waiting-maid of sixteen, whose name was called Hsüeh Yen. Dowager lady Chia, perceiving that Hsüeh
Yen was too youthful and quite a child in her manner, while nurse Wang was, on the other hand, too aged, conjectured that Tai-yü would, in all her wants,
not have things as she liked, so she detached two waiting-maids, who were her own personal attendants,
named Tzu Chüan and Ying Ko, and attached them to Tai-yü‘s service.
Just as had Ying Ch’un and the other girls, each one of
whom had besides the wet nurses of their youth, four other nurses to advise and direct them,
“Books, you say!” exclaimed dowager lady Chia; “why all they know are a few characters, that’s all.”
The sentence was barely out of her lips, when a continuous sounding of footsteps was heard outside, and a waiting maid entered and announced that Pao-yü was
coming. Tai-yü was speculating in her mind how it was that this Pao-yü had turned out such a good-for-nothing fellow, when he happened to walk in.
He was, in fact, a young man of tender years, wearing on his head, to hold his hair together, a cap of gold of purplish tinge, inlaid with precious gems. Parallel
with his eyebrows was attached a circlet, embroidered with gold, and representing two dragons snatching a pearl. He wore an archery-sleeved deep red jacket, with
hundreds of butterflies worked in gold of two different shades, interspersed with flowers; and was girded with a sash of variegated silk, with clusters of designs, to which was attached long tassels; a kind of sash worn in the palace. Over all, he
had a slate-blue fringed coat of Japanese brocaded satin, with eight bunches of flowers in relief; and wore a pair of light blue satin white-soled, half-dress court-shoes.
His face was like the full moon at mid-autumn; his complexion, like morning flowers in spring; the hair along his temples, as if chiselled with a knife; his
eyebrows, as if pencilled with ink; his nose like a suspended gallbladder (a well-cut and shapely nose); his eyes like vernal waves; his angry look even resembled a smile; his glance, even when stern, was full of sentiment.
Round his neck he had a gold dragon necklet with a fringe; also a cord of variegated silk, to which was attached a piece of beautiful jade.
As soon as Tai-yü became conscious of his presence, she was quite taken aback. “How very strange!” she was reflecting in her mind; “it would seem as if I had
seen him somewhere or other, for his face appears extremely familiar to my eyes;” when she noticed Pao-yü face dowager lady
“Your uncle,” madame Wang explained, “is gone to observe this day as a fast day, but you’ll see him by and bye. There’s, however, one thing I want to talk to you about. Your three female cousins are all, it is true, everything that is nice; and you will, when later on you come together for study, or to learn how to do needlework, or whenever, at any time, you romp and laugh together, find them all most obliging; but there’s one thing that causes me very much concern. I have here one, who is the very root of retribution, the incarnation of all mischief, one who is a ne’er-do-well, a prince of malignant spirits in this family. He is gone to-day to pay his vows in the temple, and is not back yet, but you will see him in the evening, when you will readily be able to judge for yourself. One thing you must do, and that is, from this time forth, not to pay any notice to him. All these cousins of yours don’t venture to bring any taint upon themselves by provoking him.”
Tai-yü had in days gone by heard her mother explain that she had a nephew, born into the world, holding a piece of jade in his mouth, who was perverse beyond measure, who took no pleasure in his books, and whose sole great delight was to play the giddy dog in the inner apartments; that her maternal grandmother, on the other hand, loved him so fondly that no one ever presumed to call him to account, so that when, in this instance, she heard madame Wang’s advice, she at once felt certain that it must be this very cousin.
“Isn’t it to the cousin born with jade in his mouth, that you are alluding to, aunt?” she inquired as she returned her smile. “When I was at home, I remember my mother telling me more than once of this very cousin, who (she said) was a year older than I, and whose infant name was Pao-yü. She added that his disposition was really wayward, but that he treats all his cousins with the utmost consideration. Besides,
Remembering the occurrence of the previous night,
he meant to write a couple of letters of recommendation for Yü-ts’un to take along with him to the capital,
to enable him, after handing them over at the mansions of certain officials,
to find some place as a temporary home.
He accordingly despatched a servant to ask him to come round, but the man returned and reported that from what the bonze
said, “Mr. Chia had started on his journey to the capital,
at the fifth watch of that very morning, that he had also left a message with the bonze to deliver to you,
Sir, to the effect that men of letters paid no heed to lucky or unlucky days,
that the sole consideration with them was the nature of the matter in hand, and that he could find no time to come round in person and bid good-bye.”
Shih-yin after hearing this message had no alternative but to banish the subject from his thoughts.
In comfortable circumstances, time indeed goes by with easy stride. Soon drew near also the happy festival of the 15th of the 1st
moon, and Shih-yin told a servant Huo Ch’i to take Ying Lien to see the sacrificial fires and flowery lanterns.
About the middle of the night, Huo Ch’i was hard pressed, and he forthwith set Ying Lien down on the doorstep of a certain house. When he felt relieved,
he came back to take her up, but failed to find anywhere any trace of Ying Lien. In a terrible plight, Huo Ch’i prosecuted his search throughout half the night;
but even by the dawn of day, he had not discovered any clue of her whereabouts. Huo Ch’i, lacking,
on the other hand, the courage to go back and face his master, promptly made his escape to his native village.
Shih-yin — in fact, the husband as well as the wife — seeing that their child had not come home during the whole night,
readily concluded that some mishap must have befallen her.
Hastily they despatched several servants to go in search of her, but one and all returned to report that there was neither vestige nor tidings of her.
This couple had only had this child, and this at the meridian of their life,
so that her sudden disappearance
plunged them in such great distress that day and night they mourned her loss to such a point as to well nigh pay no heed to their very lives.
A month in no time went by. Shih-yin was the first to fall ill, and his wife, Dame Feng, likewise, by dint of fretting for her daughter, was also prostrated with sickness.
The doctor was, day after day, sent for, and the oracle consulted by means of divination.
Little did any one think that on this day,
being the 15th of the 3rd moon,
One thing alone marred his happiness.
He had lived over half a century and had, as yet, no male offspring around his knees. He had one only child,
a daughter, whose infant name was Ying Lien. She was just three years of age. On a long summer day, on which the heat had been intense, Shih-yin sat leisurely in his library. Feeling his hand tired,
he dropped the book he held, leant his head on a teapoy, and fell asleep.
Of a sudden, while in this state of unconsciousness, it seemed as if he had betaken himself on foot to some
spot or other whither he could not discriminate. Unexpectedly he espied, in the opposite direction, two priests coming towards him: the one a Buddhist, the other a Taoist. As they advanced they kept up
the conversation in which they were engaged. “Whither do you purpose taking the object you have brought away?”
he heard the Taoist inquire. To this question the Buddhist replied with a smile: “Set your mind at ease,” he said; “there’s now in maturity a plot of a general character involving mundane pleasures,
which will presently come to a denouement. The whole number of the votaries of voluptuousness have, as yet, not been quickened or entered the world, and I mean to avail myself of this occasion to
introduce this object among their number, so as to give it a chance to go through the span of human existence.”
“The votaries of voluptuousness of these days will naturally have again to endure the ills of life during their course through the mortal world,” the Taoist remarked; “but when, I wonder, will they spring into existence? and in what place will they descend?”
“The account of these circumstances,” the bonze ventured to reply, “is enough to make you laugh! They amount to this:
there existed in the west, on the bank of the Ling (spiritual) river, by the side of the San Sheng (thrice-born) stone, a blade of the Chiang Chu (purple pearl) grass. At about the same time it was that the
block of stone was, consequent upon its rejection by the goddess of works, also left to ramble and wander to its own gratification, and to roam about at pleasure to every and any place. One day it came
within the precincts of the Ching Huan (Monitory Vision) Fairy; and this Fairy, cognizant of the fact that this stone had