by Tam King-fai
poor. Since I did not witness it, it would be pointless for me to exercise
my imagination and make a pretense of lamenting their plight. If
someone were to say that what I have written down here is just my
personal business and doesn’t contribute to human life in general, I’d
willingly admit it. Talking about my personal affairs is exactly what I set
out to do, and I do not aspire to any other goal than that. The sun has
come out today, and in the evening, we can go out to play. I will stop
here.
I have been wanting to read about your travels in Qin,5 but instead I
have written something for you to read. This is something of a surprise,
wouldn’t you say?
5
Qin, an early name for the Shaanxi region.
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Xu Dishan
Xu Dishan (1894–1941) was a native of Tainan, Taiwan, but his family
moved to Fujian when he was a child. He received his education from
Yenching University, Columbia University, and Oxford University.
Trained in literature and religious studies, he later became a writer, an
educator, and a folklorist. In 1936, he went to Hong Kong and headed
the School of Chinese at The University of Hong Kong, and died six
years later of a heart attack.
Xu’s literary interest is somewhat different from the other writers
anthologized here. His sensibilities are distinctly southern, giving his
writings an exotic air even to Chinese readers. His teaching experience
at Myanmar and his study and translation of Indian literature also
[M PQU IXIZ ¹=VLMTQ^MZML 4M\MZ[º KWV[Q[[ WN I OZW]X WN [PWZ
essays written in the form of letters, three of which are translated in
the following pages. In these letters, the reader encounters characters
_PW ÅVL PMU[MT^M[ QV MUWQWVIT ]ZUWQT
to give advice to the intended addressee, but the letters are in the end
undeliverable, making their messages all the more poignant.
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62
A Garden of One’s Own
Undelivered Letters (Three Selections) (1923)
To Zhen Rui
Reason for non-delivery: The addressee has left Guangzhou.
Ever since we parted at the Zou Ma Camp, I had not heard any news
of you. Knowing that the life you’re leading is like that of an itinerant
monk, I didn’t think I’d have any news for you to read that would relieve
you of the sorrow of your travels. Yesterday, I heard from Geng Xiang
about your latest comings and goings. I also learned that you are staying
at this address, and I couldn’t resist writing a few lines to you.
5a NZQMVL LW aW] PQVS PI [_MM ÆIO ÆW_MZ[ KIV OZW_ QV PM
QKa WKMIV[ WN PM 6WZP 8WTM WZ PI ÆW_MZ[ TQSM ZWaIT _IMZ TQTQM[ KIV
come into bloom by the Nile? Go home, I say! You left behind a restful,
ZIVY]QT TQNM W ZWIU IJW] [MIZKPQVO NWZ PI PMIZTM[[ ¹PMIZ¼[ LM[QZMº
of yours. Why bring this punishment upon yourself ? You may say that
you offended him at one time and have to look him up to apologize to
him, but you have already admitted that you were at fault. How can you
M`XMK\PI\PMWTLINNMKQWVOMVTMaMÅZUTQSMRILMKW]TLJMZM[WZML
to its blemish-free state?
My friend, I often think of a writing brush that I once used. One
day, I accidentally burned the tip of the brush—I was learning seal
script at the time, and had heard that a singed brush tip would be easier
to write with—and it could not be used anymore. I loved that brush,
and tried different ways to mend it but wasn’t able to salvage it. Even
when I took it to a brush-maker, he couldn’t come up with any ideas,
except to suggest I use another one. Although I couldn’t bear to throw
away that precious little object that had been with me day after day,
there was nothing I could do but put it away in my brush bag. Human
emotions cannot be put away like that, but if, having this knowledge, you
nevertheless pretend that they can, you’ll end up feeling much better.
AW]IZMZMILaW[IKZQÅKMaW]ZN]]ZMJ]PMLWM[VWQVMVLWTM
you have your wish. Why do you want to do it, then? Go on home! Your
NZM[PaW]VONIKMPI[TMNQ[ZMÆMKQWVQVPMUQZZWZIVLPMLIZS[PILW_
lurking behind you is threatening to get inside you, chasing away all
your youthful vigor and snatching from you your glamorous outer shell.
4MUMWVKMIOIQVMVZMIaW]-^MVQN aW]ÅVLaW]ZPMIZTM[[¹PMIZ¼[
LM[QZMºPM_QTTWVTaILLWaW]ZLQ[ZM[[1¼[VW][MIITT
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Xu Dishan
63
Reply to Lao Yun
Reason for non-delivery: Lao Yun has entered Jin Guang Ming Temple in the
mountains. Letter cannot be delivered.
I awoke in the middle of the night when the moon was still in the sky.
A thirsty mouse had stolen onto the table to drink the ink in the bowl
I used for washing brushes. I got up, and he ran away in fright. He
had awakened me, and I had scared him—that made us even. I walked
up to the window and sat down there without lighting the lamp. I
remembered that on the same night last year, we had a chat in Liaoyin’s
garden. You said that we were like chirping insects in the grass beneath
thousands and thousands of plantain trees. Tonight, the insects must still
be chirping in the grass in that garden, but what about us? I thought of
going out for a walk by myself, but the yard was full of ghostly shadows.
Besides, I had no companion, so I gave up the idea. Since I couldn’t
sleep, I yearned for some tea. Walking to the back room, I found the
young maid sound asleep. I would have hated to liberate her from her
slumber, so I gave up the idea of drinking tea as well. I came back to the
window and sat down. Feeling aimlessly around the window lattice, my
ÅVOMZ[Y]QMIKKQLMVITTaW]KPMLPMTM\MZaW][MVUMIUWVPIOW1
read the letter again in the moonlight. Fortunately, your handwriting is
TIZOMZPIVUQVMIVLQ_I[VW\WWLQNÅK]T\WZMILQQVPMLQUTQOP
Now is the time to reply to your letter.
Lao Yun, I once said to Liaoyin: May all the desolate mountains in
the world line up circle upon circle to form one big prison. The beasts
will be the guards, the ancient trees will be the fence, the mist and
clouds will be handcuffs and fetters, and the vines and ivy will be the
chains. There, with a light hand, we will sequester you, the poet criminal
who stirs up sorrow in other people! It never occurred to us that you
would turn yourself in! You might as well have, but I’m afraid that once
you get there, it will no longer be a prison of poetry, but will become a
kingdom of poetry instead.
You might want to know why I call you the poet criminal. I do not
know why myself. I think that although your poetry is very good, what
comes from your pen does not match what is in your heart. How much
more
wonderful it would be if you were to throw out your pen and go
to the poetry prison where only poetry comprehensible to the heart is
allowed!
Scenes that inspire poetry can be found all over this world, which is
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64
A Garden of One’s Own
why it’s easy to be a poet. Whatever they encounter in their lives, poets
KIV VM^MZ PWTL PMQZ XMIKM IVL IZM VW [IQ[ÅML ]VQT PMa KWUM W]
with a few sorrowful lines. The whole thing is incomprehensible! Take
tonight, for example. If you were around, you would tease and needle
everything here in the yard, not resting until they wept. That is your
crime, and that’s why I call you a poet criminal—and hope you are one,
too!
1 Q[ WW QZQVO W PWTL I ÆI[PTQOP QV WVM PIVL IVL _ZQM _QP PM
other, so I won’t write anymore. I didn’t wake up tonight because I
wanted to reply to your letter, yet this has already taken half an hour of
my time without my even noticing it. It is again due to your crimes that
I cannot silently talk to the moon.
The sound of the insects in the yard is like the howling of ghosts,
causing my hair to stand on end. I’d better put my head under the
pillow and let the little mouse drink to his heart’s content.
To Jing Ran, the Third Cousin
Reason for non-delivery: No one known as the Third Cousin lives at this
address.
I came to look for you, but not because I didn’t know you were married.
Why didn’t you come out and talk with me about old times? Do I
VMML W SVW_ aW]Z ¹UI[MZº1 before you’ll see me? We are separated
by twelve years and three thousand li of oceans and mountains. Every hour, month, and year I was here, I prayed to see you again. As soon
as I stepped inside your door, my heart started to oscillate like a swing,
so much so that one of my arteries was almost torn apart. Who would
have expected that I would sit there waiting for a long time and still
aW]_W]TLVWKWUM'?PMVÅVITTaaW]IXXMIZMLaW][ILW_VJMPQVL
me as soon as you were done making pleasantries. Quite a number of
people wanted to speak to me just then, so how could I turn around and
look at you?
To women, nuptial wine is the tea of forgetfulness: One sip and
they lose all memory of their youthful entanglements. This is why when
1
The original uses the word tian (sky), which may be interpreted in two ways: i) the woman’s husband is compared to the sky, thereby emphasizing the supreme
position he holds, and ii) the word tian (sky), written is a visual pun on the word fu (husband), written .
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Xu Dishan
65
aW][I_UMaW]IKMLÅZ[I[QN _MSVM_MIKPWPMZPMVI[QN _MLQL
VW IVL aW] _MZM INZIQL WPMZ XMWXTM UQOP ÅVL W] PI _M LQL AW]
wavered, thus putting aside all the kind things you had once said to me.
At the height of autumn that year, we went to Chang Hua Pavilion
to look at the withering lotus. Inadvertently, my hand touched the cactus
plant by the bamboo fence and would not stop bleeding. You took out
some tissue from your compact, and pulled out two strands of your soft,
fragrant black hair to dress my wound. Do you remember what you said
PMV' AW] [IQL ¹)TPW]OP Ua PIQZ Q[ VW I[ []ZLa I[ I JW_[ZQVO Q Q[
quite adequate to dress a wound. It might even do to bind the heart of
UaTW^MºAW]ZJI[PN]T_WZL[QVLMMLJW]VLUaPMIZ\PILIaJ]aW]Z
memory of it, like my wound, has long since faded away.
1V PM I]]UV WN IVWPMZ aMIZ _M _MZM ÆaQVO I PMIZ[PIXML SQM
on the roof. You put your hand on my shoulder and watched me let
PM [ZQVO W] ITT PM _Ia
the wind was strong, the string was in danger of breaking. Do you
ZMUMUJMZ _PI aW] [IQL PMV' AW] [IQL ¹
TMQOWIPMILIVLJZMISº1[IQL¹,WaW]_IVUMWTMOWWN PQ[»PMIZ¼
I made in my spare time? Red string or no red string, I won’t let it drift
I_Iaº AW] [IQL ¹4M PM NIT[M PMIZ OW ?M [QTT PI^M W]Z Z]M PMIZ[º
You snatched the white string from my hand and let it go. The kite
QUUMLQIMTa]ZVMLI[MZQM[WN [WUMZ[I]T[QVPMIQZ1ÆM_I_Ia_QP
its broken string and was caught at the top of the pagoda at Huang Jia
Temple. That broken heart-shaped frame might still be on the pagoda
even now, but your memory of it, like the wind that day, is long gone
without a trace.
On one occasion, we were listening to partridges on the Liu Hua
Bridge, and the sap of jimsonweed growing on the roadside stained
your white socks. I asked you to take them off so I could wash them for
aW],WaW]ZMUMUJMZ_PIaW][IQLPMV'AW][IQL¹)ZMV¼aW]INZIQL
people might laugh at you—a man washing socks for a woman? Have
you forgotten that I once wrote my name on your palm with gardenia
stamens? If you were to put your hand in the water to wash my sock,
wouldn’t it wash away my name from your hand? Could you bear to let
PI PIXXMV'º )TI[ VW_ aW]Z UMUWZa WN ITT PQ[ PI[ LQ[IXXMIZML TQSM
the name you wrote on my palm!
2
A couple destined to be husband and wife are believed to be tied to one
another by an invisible red string.
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66
A Garden of One’s Own
Nuptial wine truly is the tea of forgetfulness for women: One
sip and they lose all memory of their youthful entanglements. But
everything remains in my heart like the strands of thread on an
abandoned loom. They are woven together, and cannot be broken for
a long while. I know that you are very happy now, surrounded by your
children. Whenever I think of you, I am as happy as you are when you
are with them.
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qr
Ye Shengtao
Like Xia Mianzun featured earlier in this anthology, Ye Shengtao (also
Ye Shaojun, 1894–1988) is a dedicated teacher, editor, and writer.
In addition to many professional and family ties (Xia’s daughter was
married to Ye’s son), these two distinguished writers also collaborated in
the writing of Wenxin and Wenzhang jianghua.
Ye was a founding member of the Literary Study Society (Wenxue
yanjiu hui), which promoted the credo that literature exists for the sake
of life. Accordingly, Ye emphasizes that it is important for a writer to
have direct experiences with what he chooses to write about. In like
NI[PQWVPMY]M[QWV[PM][MN]TVM[[WN ¹IZQ[QKºTIVO]IOMI\PMM`XMV[M
WN XZIKQKIJQTQa IVL ZMILIJQTQa ¹?WZPa KWVMVº PM IZO]M[ KIV WVTa
JMM`XZM[[MLJa¹_WZPaTIVO]IOMº
and yet urbane. He has little tolerance for the kind of backbiting that
occurs even in educ
ational circles, or the sentimentality of young people
in love who show no regard for the world of hardship around them.
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68
A Garden of One’s Own
Random Reminiscences (Two Selections)
(1930, published in 1931)
I
I graduated from high school in 1911, and did not have plans to pursue
my studies any further. The reason was simple: There was no money
at home to support my education. Of course, high school graduates
IT[W NIKML IV ¹MUXTWaUMV XZWJTMUº1 then, but since there were not
many social critics or journal editors in those days, the problem never
generated the kind of clamorous discussion found today. Fortuitously, I
became a primary school teacher, and began to keep company with a
OZW]XWN [MKWVLOZILMX]XQT[
out what it is like to pull out all the stops in search of work.
This is fortunate, by all accounts. Later in life, I had a friend who,
upon graduating from high school, found himself face to face with so-
KITTML ¹[WKQMaº 0M _I[ LMMXTa XMZXTM`ML Ja PM UIVa ZWIL[ WXMV W
him and did not know which to choose. One day, when he was visiting
a park, he happened to notice a pond with water as clear as a mirror.
All of a sudden, a feeling of despair overcame him, and a strong desire
grew inside him to simply throw himself into the water and end his
TQNM ZQOP PMZM 1 _I[ VM^MZ I[ ¹[MVQUMVITº2 as this young man. It is a worthy profession to be a primary school teacher, so why shouldn’t
I have given it a try? From a pragmatic point of view, this is another
reason that I should be considered fortuitous.
I worked as a primary school teacher for ten years, changing schools
twice during this time. At the last two schools where I taught, I was class
master of the higher grades, but also taught kindergarten part-time. The
children at this level were not old enough for Grade 1, but they had
not been as systematically trained as the younger kindergarten children.
It was an ill-conceived level. The teaching profession, however, was
growing more and more interesting for me, because in those few years, I
had begun to hear about foreign educational theories and methods, and
1
Here and in other places of the essay, Ye Shengtao put certain phrases and
