An elderly man enters the main hall of the Imperial Palace in Beijing and, under the eyes of a curious young Chinese pioneer, takes from beneath the golden throne a small, dusty box with holes punctured in its lid and presses it to his ear. This is one of the closing scenes of the remarkable movie The Last Emperor by Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci. The old man dressed in the Sun Yatsen suit is Pu Yi, last emperor of the Qing Dynasty, who at the age of three was enthroned in accordance with the will of the dying Empress Dowager Ci Xi. The child emperor had hidden his cricket box under the throne -- it was his favorite toy. Now silent, years ago it produced the music that brings joy to the Chinese heart -- cricket-song. Keeping insects in boxes expressly to be able to listen to their utterances is an honored Chinese tradition. Sounds that to Western philistines are nothing more than light chirpings are, to the Chinese ear, joyous melodies.

Cricket culture has a 2,000-year history in China. It was during the Tang Dynasty (618 - 906) that people started keeping crickets in cages in order to enjoy their songs of captivity . The keeping of singing insects was regarded as an “elegant” hobby -- one pursued by famous poets, painters, musicians and Buddhist monks. In summer markets there would be throngs of cricket and cicada sellers in the Tang capital of Chang'an, or Xian as it is known today. The book Affairs of the Period of Tian Bao written in 742-759 contains the following description: “Whenever autumn arrived, the ladies of the palace caught crickets and kept them in small golden cages which they placed near their pillows so as to hear their songs during the night. This custom was also mirrored by common people .” Most of the “ladies of the palace” were concubines to the emperor. As emperors typically had 3,000 or so concubines, on many occasions these ladies had time on their hands, and kept singing crickets in golden cages as a pastime. This tradition is still very much alive. Enthusiasts buy and sell insects and cages in big and small cities as well as villages all around China, just as their ancestors did centuries before. These days, insect cages, in addition to being made from gold, silver and other metals are also weaved out of bamboo and hollowed out of small gourds. It is also believed that such cages -- even if empty -- will bring luck into the house. During the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911), there were palace professionals charged with taking care of the singing insects and presenting them on special occasions when the emperor or other high officers were entertaining particularly honored guests.

Insects have also historically played an important role in Chinese agriculture, as they are indicators of climatic change. Within the 24 solar terms of the Chinese lunar calendar, the third, named jing zhe, which falls in late March of the solar calendar, means, “the waking of insects.” This was when farmers started their spring plowing. Ancient Chinese literature is full of farmer's proverbs and popular songs that relate to insects. One poem in the Shi Jing (1100-600 BC) says: “In May, the shi zhong (a kind of katydid) moves its legs; In June, the sha ji (also a katydid) moves its wings; In July, the katydid is in the field; In August, the katydid is in the yard; In September it is at the door; In October, the crickets enter and crawl under our beds.” There is an old saying: when the cricket is heard singing indoors it must be October and the women should redouble their weaving labors to ensure sufficient cloth for the coming winter.

The Chinese appreciation of singing insects extends beyond the appeal of their beautiful sounds to their immense vitality. The ability of both katydids and crickets to lay hundreds of eggs concurs with the outdated Chinese belief that success comes to those with ample offspring. In former times it was common to wish friends the blessing of children as plentiful as those of katydids. In his book published in 1578, Famous Chinese doctor Li Shizheng went so far as to recommend the katydid, dried, crushed, mixed with water and drunk, as a kind of aphrodisiac.

As most singing insects of the field are heard in the autumn, they are associated with the season and, as such, with loneliness, sadness, and sorrow at the fate of humankind. Singing insects are frequently mentioned in Chinese poetry.

But, in addition to the beautiful melodies crickets and katydids produce, they are also valued for their pugilistic skills. Cricket fighting was a popular form of entertainment in the old days. The earliest publication on how to train fighting crickets came out during the Song Dynasty (960-1279). This kind of “sport” became so popular that China quickly produced the very first Cricket Minister, Jia Shidao who reigned from 1213 to 1275. Thousands of crickets were brought to the capital every year from all around the country to compete. The level of seriousness about insect fighting is illustrated in the hundreds of documented stories about those that committed suicide at losing their cricket champions or seeing them mortally wounded.

The happy owners of bona fide fighting crickets could easily make a fortune out of them. Cricket “coaches” would select the toughest cricket they could find and place it on a special diet of seeds and small insects. The day before a contest, the cricket would be starved to make it more aggressive. Two ravenous crickets would then be placed in a cage with the intent of inciting a fight to the death. Such fights attracted swarms of gamblers playing for huge stakes. These contests are still regarded as a sport in China, as the specially appointed Association for Cricket Fighting in Beijing would indicate. The association sponsors national tournaments that feature high-tech video cameras that zoom in and project the fight action on to television screens, where it is avidly viewed, cheered and booed.

As is the case with most interesting aspects of China, crickets are not just crickets, but an innate aspect of its traditions and culture.