by Xu Xu
Published by
Stone Bridge Press
P. O. Box 8208, Berkeley, CA 94707
tel 510-524-8732 • [email protected] • www.stonebridge.com
Chinese text © Hsu Yin Chiu and Fiammetta Yin Peh Hsu.
English text and translation © 2020 Frederik H. Green.
Illustration “カナリヤ Canary” on front cover by Kaoru Kawano; used with permission of the Kaoru Kawano Estate and Etsu Kobayashi.
Shanghai map on pages 120–21 courtesy of the Earth Sciences and Map Library, University of California, Berkeley. Photograph of SS Conte Verde on page 127 courtesy of the Leo Baeck Institute, New York. Signature on cover and frontispece and photographs of author on pages 122–23 and 126–27 courtesy of Fiammetta Hsu.
Cover and book design by Peter Goodman.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 2023 2022 2021 2020
p-isbn 978-1-61172-055-6 (paperback)
p-isbn 978-1-61172-059-4 (hardcover)
e-isbn 978-1-61172-939-9 (ebook)
Contents
Acknowledgments
Introduction: Xu Xu’s Literary Journey through Twentieth-Century China
Note on the Translation
鬼戀
Ghost Love
猶太的彗星
The Jewish Comet
鳥語
Bird Talk
百靈樹
The All-Souls Tree
來高升路的一個女人
When Ah Heung Came to Gousing Road
Afterword: A Chinese Romantic’s Journey through Time and Space: Xu Xu and Transnational Chinese Romanticism
References
Acknowledgments
This book has been many years in the making. Consequently, it has accrued many a debt of gratitude. I chanced upon Xu Xu and his short story “Ghost Love” while combing through Republican-period journals at Yale’s Sterling Memorial Library for a graduate seminar with Charles Laughlin, my first doctoral advisor. My chance encounter with Xu Xu turned into a dissertation whose completion was supervised by Jing Tsu, my second advisor. Both have been equally inspiring and caring mentors. Chris Hill was most generous with time, advice, and criticism, and Kang-I Sun Chang always shared my enthusiasm for Xu Xu. Many years ago, Susan Daruvala watered my budding interest in modern Chinese literature while Joe McDermott was the one who sent me on the road to romanticism. The late P. K. Leung welcomed me to Lingnan University in Hong Kong and provided encouragement and guidance. Lo Wai-luen shared anecdotes about her former teacher Xu Xu as well as some treasured first editions. Y. M. Bow and his sister Bow Sui May Hidemi were the most wonderful and generous hosts. In Shanghai, my thanks go to Chen Zishan and to Gao Bo and Xiong Di.
Work on the book got started in earnest with the help of a Junior Scholar Grant from the Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation. Most of the early drafts of the translations in this book were completed in a carrel at the Center for Chinese Studies (CCS) during a three-month residency at the National Central Library (NCL) in Taipei in 2015, made possible through a Taiwan Fellowship from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of China. I polished up my translations and wrote the Introduction and Afterword during a subsequent stay at the CCS in 2018. I will forever be grateful to the wonderful staff of the CCS and NCL who made me feel so welcome in their library. In Taiwan, Liu T’ie-hu and Chung Shao-Chih helped me see clearly whenever I got stuck with a difficult text passage, and Shie Shr-tzung and Nikky Lin provided mental (and culinary) support. Lin Ying-chih patiently listened when I told him why Xu Xu needed to be translated, and Jimmy Liao knew it all along. Ch’en Pao-ling and her family took me to Mount Ali so that we could look for the all-souls tree. We did not find it, but instead we saw the morning sunrise.
My colleague Chris Wen-chao Li at SFSU helped me with the trickiest of translation problems. Ilana Wistinetzki was the first to read the entire manuscript, with a red pen in hand. Jennifer Feeley offered invaluable feedback after reading drafts of all the stories and the Introduction. Jianye He of the Berkeley Starr Library went out of her way to help me find the most obscure of materials. My colleagues Charles Egan, Yang Xiao-Desai, Josephine Tsao, April Phung, Hsin-Yun Liu, and Mia Segura in the Chinese Program at SFSU provided cheers and feedback along the way, as did Wei Yang Menkus and Stephen Roddy across town at USF. Chuen-fung Wong always believed in this book and kept encouraging me. Constantine Rusanov has made me a better writer, and was always there when I needed him most. Mark Levine was never more than a phone call away, and Peter Hegedus never more than an email.
Joe Allen, Mark and Jean Barnekow, Xiaomei Chen, Clare Cheng, William Coker, Maghiel van Crevel, Melissa Dale, Paul van Els, Victor Fan, Howard Goldblatt, Kendall Heitzman, Amanda Hsu, Roland Hsu, Junliang Huang, Andrew Jones, Milton Katz, Lucas Klein, Jon von Kowallis, Karl Kwan, Jim Laine, Haiyan Lee, Hua Li, Luo Liang, Sylvia Li-chun Lin, Andrea Lingenfelter, Chris Lupke, Lois Lyles, David Martyn, Jason McGrath, Kitty Millet, Thomas Moran, Kenny Ng, Li Li Peters, Steve Riep, Rosemary Roberts, Haun Saussy, Chris Scott, Chris Song, Brian Steininger, Satoko Suzuki, Andy Tsai, Doris Tseng, Sebastian Veg, Ban Wang, Ya Wang, Brett Wilson, Shengqing Wu, Edith Yang, Xin Yang, Zhiyi Yang, Christina Yee, and Yanhong Zhu have all at some point read or listened to parts of this project and generously shared comments and criticism.
Peter Goodman has been the most wonderful of editors who first patiently waited for the manuscript and then speedily put it to print. Special thanks go to Fiametta Yin Peh Hsu and Yin-chiu Hsu, for trusting me with the task of translating parts of their late father’s literary legacy, and to my “brother” Frederik Schodt for his good humor and encouragement over the years. Finally, I want to thank my wife Miwa for (almost never) minding the long hours I spent with Xu Xu instead of with her and for being just as enthusiastic about this project as I have been. All of you, I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart.
—FHG
INTRODUCTION
Xu Xu’s Literary Journey through Twentieth-Century China
The five short stories collected in this anthology along with the critical essay at the end of this volume offer a glance at the literary legacy of Xu Xu 徐訏 (1908–80), a Chinese writer who enjoyed tremendous popularity throughout the late 1930s and 1940s, prior to leaving China for Hong Kong in 1950. In Hong Kong, Xu Xu continued to write copious amounts of fiction, as well as poetry, drama, essays, and literary criticism. His collected works that were published in Taiwan between 1966 and 1970 consist of fifteen volumes.1 Xu Xu also edited several literary journals and taught Chinese literature at a number of colleges and universities, eventually chairing the Chinese Department at Hong Kong Baptist University until his death in 1980. Through his work as a writer, critic, and scholar, Xu Xu had a considerable impact on a new generation of writers and scholars that emerged in postwar Hong Kong and Taiwan.
Spanning a period of some thirty years, from 1937 until 1965, the five short stories also offer the reader an unusual glimpse into China’s turbulent twentieth century. The ways in which Xu Xu responded through his fiction to China’s ideological upheavals of the 1920s and 1930s, the War of Resistance against Japan, the ensuing bitter civil war that led to the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 and the Nationalists’ retreat to Taiwan, and finally his own exile in Hong Kong are, in many respects, unique and at times put him at odds with his contemporaries. In the 1930s, when many progressive intellectuals supported the leftist cause, Xu Xu embraced a distinctly cosmopolitan liberalism. During the war years, when both
the political left and right espoused patriotic and nationalist narratives that celebrated collective action, Xu Xu’s fiction and drama explored quasi-existentialist themes and pursued individualism. Finally, in 1950, Xu Xu left the newly founded People’s Republic, not for Nationalist Taiwan but for Hong Kong. Unwilling to align himself with either of the two authoritarian postwar regimes, Xu Xu decided to remain in colonial Hong Kong, a city he never entirely embraced as his home. Yet it was also in Hong Kong where, unhindered by ideological constraints, he produced some of his most significant literary works. As I will discuss in more detail in the essay at the back of this volume, it was also during his exile in Hong Kong that his distinct literary aesthetics matured, placing him in the proximity of Western twentieth-century neo-romantic artists, such as Hermann Hesse, and connecting his work to a global literary modernity. These neo-romantic tendencies are nowhere more discernible than in his short story “Bird Talk” 鳥語, the title story of this collection.
***
Xu Xu was born into a gentry family in Cixi near Ningbo in the coastal province of Zhejiang during the last years of the Qing dynasty (1644–1912). His given name was Xu Boyu 徐伯訏, and he later adopted the first and last characters of his given name as his pen name. The character 訏 can be pronounced both as “Xu” or “Yu,” and while Xu Xu himself preferred the latter pronunciation, the former eventually prevailed, especially in America, where he entered the catalog of the Library of Congress as “Xu Xu.” Like many of his peers, Xu Xu received an early education that was steeped in classical Chinese learning, but he was also exposed to modern schooling and Western ideas that became more widely accepted during the last years of the Qing dynasty and the early Republican period (1912–49).
In 1927, Xu Xu was admitted to Peking University, which was then the country’s leading center for progressive social and political ideas. Xu Xu majored in philosophy and developed a lasting interest in the ideas of Henri Bergson, the French philosopher who had won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1927 and whose writings on intuition and creativity not only had a profound impact on the literary works of European modernists such as Marcel Proust and Virginia Woolf but also on Xu Xu’s fictional oeuvre. Following his graduation in 1931, Xu Xu went on to study psychology for two additional years before moving to Shanghai in 1933 to begin his literary career under the auspices of Lin Yutang 林語堂 (1895–1976), the well-known polyglot writer and critic who ran a number of successful publishing ventures.
Xu Xu became a member of Lin Yutang’s Analects Group 論語派, a loose circle of like-minded liberal and cosmopolitan intellectuals, and worked as editor for two of the group’s journals, namely the bimonthlies The Analects 論語 and This Human World 人間世. Both journals published predominantly prose essays, or xiaopinwen 小品文, a genre that Lin Yutang was actively promoting and that many of the group’s writers excelled at. Often humorous in nature, these essays presented social commentaries that were an alternative to the increasingly politicized and polemical writings of leftist intellectuals. Xu Xu, in those early years, wrote mostly free-verse poetry but also contributed his own essays that typically commented on cultural differences between China and the West, a topic that was of great interest to readers in Shanghai and Republican-period China.
Shanghai in the 1930s had grown into China’s foremost metropolis. The country’s industrial and commercial center and also its publishing hub, it was a city known for its cosmopolitan culture. In the wake of the first Opium War (1839–42), a foreign settlement had sprung up on the lands north of the walled Chinese city, and it gradually developed into the Anglo-American International Settlement and the French Concession, semi-colonial and largely self-governed territories at the heart of the rapidly expanding city (see map on pages 120–21).
While the foreign concessions were a constant reminder of Western imperialism in China, they also provided the city with many modern amenities, such as movie theaters, department stores, dance halls, and nightclubs. There were also horse- and dog-racing tracks as well as Western-style cafés and bookstores selling Western-language books. In addition, there were two prestigious universities, the Anglican St. John’s University that had been founded by American missionaries (Lin Yutang was one of its graduates) and the Jesuit Université l’Aurore located in the French Concession. While political repression and strict censorship were a daily reality in China during the Republican period, Shanghai’s foreign concessions, because of their extraterritorial status, offered a considerable degree of freedom to Chinese writers and intellectuals, who moved there in increasing numbers.
By the time Xu Xu arrived in Shanghai, Chiang Kai-shek and his Nationalist KMT party had united China after years of warlordism and had moved the capital from Beijing to Nanjing. Informally referred to as the Nanjing Decade, the period that lasted from 1927 to 1937 was characterized by relative stability and economic growth. However, it was also bracketed by two traumatic events of lasting historic significance. On April 12, 1927, Chiang Kai-shek betrayed his former Communist allies and ordered the violent purge of Chinese Communist Party (CCP) organizations in Shanghai and later all over KMT-controlled China. The Shanghai Massacre or April 12 Incident, as it is also known, ushered in the first phase of the civil war between the CCP and the KMT and ultimately shifted the CCP’s base of support from the urban proletariat to the countryside. Chiang Kai-shek might well have succeeded with his campaign to eradicate Chinese Communism had it not been for Japan’s aggressive expansionism that, on July 7, 1937, eventually led to full-fledged warfare between China and Japan.
Like many intellectuals of his generation, especially those studying at Peking University, Xu Xu had briefly become interested in Communism, but his interests soon shifted to aesthetics, and his political views were more aligned with those of the liberal Lin Yutang and other less radical members of the Analects Group. This is not to say that Xu Xu or the members of the Analects Group remained indifferent to the political situation around them. Especially Lin Yutang often criticized the KMT’s proto-fascism and mocked their censorship laws. In September 1935, Lin Yutang established the bimonthly Celestial Winds 宇宙風, a broad-ranging and well-received literary magazine that also covered current affairs and provided social commentaries. One year later, in September 1936, Lin Yutang, together with Tao Kangde 陶亢德 and the brothers Huang Jiade 黃嘉德 and Huang Jiayin 黃嘉音, established West Wind 西風, a journal equally broad in scope but that in addition focused on international affairs, such as Japanese imperialism and fascism in Europe.
Xu Xu’s interests during those years were not limited to literature but included the arts in general as well as social sciences and psychology. To give voice to his many interests, Xu Xu, together with Sun Chenghe 孫成和, had in early 1936 co-launched the short-lived semimonthly Heaven, Earth, and Man 天地人 that published articles on a wide variety of topics such as Western dance, architecture, behaviorism, folk songs, Abyssinian literature, and painting. Probably its most important contribution to Chinese literature was the first serialization of a Chinese translation of D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Xu Xu had also been invited to co-edit Celestial Winds and West Wind, but by then he had already decided to embark on study abroad in Paris. He did, however, agree to contribute essays about his experiences abroad to the newly established journals.
And so, in the fall of 1936, Xu Xu embarked on the Italian steamer Conte Verde of the Lloyd Triestino line for his journey to Europe. During his month-long crossing, Xu Xu composed numerous essays in which he wittily or caustically commented on cultural differences between the Chinese and the other ethnic groups he encountered, such as overseas Chinese, Indians, and Europeans. Many of these essays subsequently appeared in the pages of Celestial Winds and West Wind. His ensuing sojourn in Louvain, Belgium, for language study and later in Paris, where he enrolled in classes in philosophy at the Sorbonne, further inspired him to write a number of short stories and novellas that likewise appeared in the journals of the A
nalects Group. Works like “The Studio at Montparnasse” 蒙擺拿斯的畫室 and The Gypsy Enticement 吉布賽的誘惑 mostly explored romantic encounters between a confident Chinese first-person narrator (who typically resembled the young Xu Xu himself) and various European women. These short stories generally displayed a lyrical exoticism that, along with the worldly first-person narrator, became the hallmark of Xu Xu’s early fiction.
It was also in the pages of the Analects Group’s journal Celestial Winds that Xu Xu’s short story “Ghost Love” 鬼戀, the opening story of this anthology, first appeared. Written just before his departure for Europe, “Ghost Love” was published in two installments in the January issues of 1937 and became an instant success. Xu Xu later revised the original and published it in the form of a book, which by 1949 had gone through nineteen print runs and had gained Xu Xu the moniker 鬼才 or “ghostly genius” (my translation is based on the original 1937 version). It was also adapted for the screen in 1941 and then again in 1956 and 1995.
“Ghost Love” is a modern gothic tale set in 1930s Shanghai in which a first-person narrator relates his encounter with a mysterious woman who claims to be a ghost. Meeting one night at a tobacco store on Nanjing Road, Shanghai’s main shopping street, the two start a liaison that lasts for over a year. The reader accompanies the two on their nightly strolls through Shanghai, whose geography often played an important role in urban fiction of the Republican period. While the narrator in “Ghost Love” frequently references traditional Chinese ghost stories, the story is intrinsically modern and a testimony to urban cosmopolitanism in prewar Shanghai. The mysterious ghost-woman wears a qipao, the tight-fitting dress that was popularized by Chinese socialites in Shanghai during the 1920s and 1930s, smokes a popular British cigarette brand, and is extremely knowledgeable about both Western and Chinese cultures. She also speaks several languages and later reveals that she is the daughter of a Jewish mother and an overseas Chinese father. While “Ghost Love” also touches upon the revolutionary struggles of the 1920s and the violence that had ensued after Chiang Kai-shek’s betrayal of his Communist allies in Shanghai, the story is largely skeptical of collective action and ideological narratives and essentially individualistic in nature.
