by Tam King-fai
advocate of art and music education. Very much a man of the world, he
suddenly converted to Buddhism and became a monk at the age of thirty-nine.
3
Ma Yifu, 1883–1967, a well-known classics scholar.
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122
A Garden of One’s Own
with a beard. I bowed to him when I was introduced, and sat down in
a chair and listened to the two of them talk. I did not really understand
fully what they were saying. All I heard were isolated words such as
lengyan and yuanjue.4
their conversation. I had just learned that word, and found it interesting
to hear them use it. But on the whole, I did not quite follow what they
said, partly because Mr. L. was speaking in the Tianjin dialect, and Mr.
M. used pure Shaoxing dialect when he told the servant to pour tea, but
used the dialect with a northern accent when he spoke to us. I didn’t
understand any of these dialects fully. At the time, I thought to myself,
¹1N aW]_W]TL[QUXTa[XMISWUMI[aW][XWSMWaW]Z[MZ^IV1UQOP
JM IJTM W ]VLMZ[IVL UWZMº 0W_M^MZ Q _W]TL PI^M JMMV I_S_IZL
for me to say that, so I sat there quietly and pretended to follow their
conversation.
In fact, I was silently observing the appearance of this Mr. M.
whom I had just met. His head was large and round, and the top, at
about the place where the brain is, was especially enormous. Were his
body less stout than it was, I thought, it might not be able to support
his head. His eyes were not as delicate-looking as Mr. L.’s, but they were
large, round, and bright. The upper eyelids arched forcefully, and his
dark pupils were set just right underneath. His beard started from his
left ear, grew along his face, and reached all the way to his right ear. Its
color was as dark as his pupils. At that time, I was devoted to the study
of charcoal drawing, and it occurred to me that his portrait would be
best done in charcoal, though I would not be able to capture the forceful
lines of his eyes.
Just as I was scrutinizing him, he suddenly burst into gales of
laughter. I was startled by the resonance and cheerfulness of his laugh,
which was so unlike his speaking voice that it could easily have come
from a different person. As he laughed, he was also staring at me with
his sparkling black eyes. I was making artistic and musical observations
about him, and had no idea what he was laughing about. Since I had
been pretending to be listening to them, I could not possibly just sit
there without responding. At the same time, it would be awkward for me
WI[S¹?PIIZMaW]TI]OPQVOI'ºIVLZMY]M[\PIPMZMXMIPQU[MTN
So I forced myself to laugh, and continued to pretend that I understood
what they were saying, knowing full well that they would not put me
4
Names of Buddhist scriptures.
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Feng Zikai
123
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however, I felt rather ashamed. I was ashamed of my deceitfulness, and
blamed myself for not knowing their dialects. The more they talked, the
more they had to say, the more uproarious Mr. M.’s laughing became,
and the more ashamed I felt. From the moment we arrived at his house
WPMUWUMV_MWWSW]ZTMI^M1_I[ÅTTML_QPZMOZMIVL[PIUMTQSM
a puppet that had been brought to this old house in this mean alleyway
against its wish for a few hours of display.
The second time I came to this mean alleyway was the year before
TI[[Q`MMVaMIZ[INMZPMÅZ[\QUM_PMV1PILJMPI^MLTQSMIX]XXM
In those sixteen or seventeen years, I had been to many places to earn
a living. I had married, a group of children had been borne to me, and
my mother had also died. As for Mr. M., he had remained the same all
those years, living by himself in seclusion in the old house in the mean
alleyway. It was on the Qing Ming Festival5 when I saw him the second
time. I was asked by Mr. L. to bring to him two stones for seal carving.
I saw that the alleyway remained like the Yan Hui residence I had
imagined it to be, and just as before, an ancient aura still pervaded the
house. Mr. M.’s demeanor was no different from more than ten years
JMNWZM" 0M [QTT PIL PQ[ [ZWVO _MTTLMÅVML MaMTQL[ JZQOP X]XQT[ IVL
loud, cheerful laughter. But I, who was there to listen to his laughter,
had changed. His dialect was no longer a problem for me, and I could
understand completely everything he said. The pain of being a puppet
was no more, but in its place was another deeper kind.
That was the period when I had just lost my mother. From the
time I was little, my mother had assumed the role of both parents to
raise me, and I had never repaid her even in the smallest way. In my
M`ZMUM [WZZW_ Ua PMIZ _I[ ÅTTML _QP IVOMZ IVL XMZXTM`Qa W^MZ PM
inconstancy of life. Since I lacked the power to extricate myself from
such anger and perplexity, I sank into a state of depression. I only
wanted to wander6 in the hills and by the rivers with my children, so as
to forget my pain temporarily. Most of all, I recoiled from listening to
any talk that touched upon the fundamental questions of life. And thus,
with my full knowledge, I allowed myself to sink low. I could, however,
still hide my degeneration from people in my own social circle.
5
A Chinese festival that usually falls in early April, during which people visit their ancestral tombs.
6
.MVOBQSIQ][M[PM-VOTQ[P_WZL¹XQKVQKºQVXTIKMWN ¹_IVLMZºQVPMWZQOQVIT
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124
A Garden of One’s Own
To earn a living, I only have to read a few pages of a book and
write for a few hours every day. I have always abstained from wine and
meat, and I neither gamble nor go to the theater. My only hobbies are
smoking half a tin of Meili cigarettes a day, allowing myself a few pieces
of candy, and playing with my children with the toys that I buy for them.
In the eyes of my social associates, someone like me is far from being
a sunken soul; rather, I tend to be upheld as an outstanding individual.
But, in contrast to the solemnity with which Mr. M. approached life, it
was obvious that I had indeed debased myself. He talked to me about
an album of my work, Pictures to Protect Lives, for which he had written a preface. He encouraged me, and, knowing of the sorrow I felt over
the death of my mother, further consoled me by expounding on the
UMIVQVOWN ¹TQNM¼[QVKWV[IVKaº1VNIK1LQLVWVMMLWTQ[MVWPQU#
all that it took was one look at him, and I felt so ashamed of myself
PI1_Q[PML1KW]TLÅVLIXTIKMWPQLM1_I[I[QN PMZM_I[IJITTWN
tangled thread in my mind—impossible to sever but just as impossible to
sort out. And since I could not untangle it, I wrapped the whole th
ing
up like a paper package in my mind. I felt uncomfortable there before
him. After sitting with him for an hour or so, I took my leave.
When he saw me to the door, I felt the same kind of joy that had
descended upon me at this same place some ten years before when,
INMZ XTIaQVO PM X]XXM NWZ I NM_ PW]Z[ 1 _I[ ÅVITTa ITTW_ML W OW
I walked out of the mean alleyway, and saw a rickshaw parked at the
corner of the street. Without asking the price, I got in it. I looked up
IVLNW]VLPI\PM_MIPMZ_I[ÅVM[W1LMKQLMLWOWW+IQbPQBPIQ
the confectionery, to buy some candy, which I then brought to the Liu
He Pagoda and spent my Qing Ming Festival there. When I dragged
my tired body back to my hotel at night, however, I thought of my host
whom I had visited that morning, and felt a strong, respectful fondness
for him. I planned to visit him again the following morning, when I
_W]TL WXMV Ua ¹XIXMZ XIKSIOMº QV NZWV WN PQU *] _PMV UWZVQVO
came, my heart was again totally taken up by the spring scenery of West
Lake.
The third time I went to the mean alleyway was a week ago. This
time, I went there on my own accord. Mr. M. was still living by himself
like a hermit in the old house in the mean alleyway. His eyes were still
forceful and glittering, and his laughter was as cheerful as before. The
only thing that surprised me was that his jet-black beard had turned
[QT^MZa OZIa IVL _I[ ITUW[ _PQM 1 PW]OP WN PM TQVM[ ¹?PQM PIQZ
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Feng Zikai
125
spares no one/ It grows on the head of the idler and prime minister
ITQSMº ) PM [IUM QUM 1 ZMOZM\ML PI 1 PIL VW KWUM [WWVMZ IVL
more often to befriend him. I also blamed myself for having lived such
a degenerate life these three years. My mother has been dead now for
more than three years and on the surface, it appears that I have given in
to life’s inconstancy and am not as grieved and angry as before. At the
same time, having emerged from my depression, I want to settle down
NWZIXZWZIKMLIKWN LMÅIVKMIOIQV[TQNM¼[QVKWV[IVKa
Whenever I come across ancient poetic lines on the subject of life’s
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[Q`LaVI[QM[Q[VW_[PQVQVOWVPM9QVP]IQ:Q^MZQVPMKTMIZVQOPºWZ
¹
@]IVbWVOº¸1IT_Ia[QVMZXZM\PMUQVXQK]ZM[_WWN _PQKP1MIZTQMZ
sent to Mr. M. Recently, I wanted to gather more lines on this topic
for my pictures and was preparing to compile An Album of Inconstancy.
I mentioned this thought to Mr. M., and asked him for advice. He
pointed out to me enthusiastically many Buddhist scriptures and literary
KWTTMKQWV[ NZWU _PQKP 1 KW]TL ÅVL []KP UIMZQIT[ IVL ZMKQML NWZ UM
many wonderful lines. At last, changing the topic all of a sudden, he
[IQL ¹1VKWV[IVKa Q[ KWV[IVKa 1 Q[ MI[a W LZI_ QVKWV[IVKa J] VW
[W _QP KWV[IVKaº 1 PIL VW PMIZL _WZL[ TQSM PM[M NWZ I TWVO QUM
No wonder I had felt so despondent! His very words rescued me from
the burning house of inconstancy, and I felt an inexhaustible sense of
serenity coming over me. At that moment, I thought to myself: After I
ÅVQ[P PM Album of Inconstancy, I will put together an Album of Constancy.
I would not need to ask him for a preface for that album, because in it,
every page, from beginning to end, would be blank.
When I walked out of the mean alleyway that day, it was already
L][S?QP[TMMNITTQVOPM[ZMM_I[ÅTTML_QP[KMVM[WN PMMVLWN PM
year. I walked on the street alone, disoriented. I recalled the time three
aMIZ[JMNWZM_PMV1PILOWQVPMZQKS[PI__QPW]ÅZ[ÅVLQVOW]\PM
price, and an earlier time twenty years before when I had felt liberated
after playing the puppet for several hours. I felt as if I were in a dream.
January 15, 1933 at Shimen Wan
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126
A Garden of One’s Own
Seeking Shelter from the Rain in the Mountains (1935)
Two days ago, with two little girls in tow, I went sightseeing in the
mountains in the area of West Lake. Quite unexpectedly, it began to
rain and we scurried for shelter. Ahead of us, we saw a small temple, at
the entrance of which were several village houses. One was a teahouse,
which sold incense and candles on the side. We dashed toward it as if it
were our own home. Though the teahouse was tiny, it charged one full
jiao 7 for a pot of tea. At that point, though, we would not have found it overpriced even if it had cost double that.
ZIQV OZM_ PMI^QMZ IVL PMI^QMZ _QP MIKP XI[[QVO UQV]M ) ÅZ[ 1 _I[
rather dismayed at having met with rain on our mountain tour, but then
a kind of solitary, somber sensation at having been trapped there in the
mountains by the rain started to awaken my interest, and I began to
think that this was in fact much better than touring the mountains in
ÅVM_MIPMZ)[PM^MZ[MOWM[¹
IVL PM ZIQV _WVLZW][º ) PQ[ ^MZa UWUMV 1 KIUM W IXXZMKQIM
that the scene was actually quite exquisite. The two little girls failed to
understand, however: Trapped in the teahouse by the rain, they were
disgruntled and unceasing in their complaints. I could not explain to
PMUPM[IMWN UQVL1_I[QVVWZLQL1_IV\PMUW¹JMOZW_V]Xº
so that they could appreciate it.
The teahouse owner was playing his huqin 8 at the entrance to the
store, and this was the only sound we heard besides the rain. He was
XTIaQVO¹8T]U*TW[[WU[QV
off, he was able to keep a good beat. He was apparently playing in lieu
of a radio to attract customers as there were only a few of them in the
teahouse. Unfortunately, after playing for a while, he stopped, and we
were left with only the unrelenting, riotous sound of the rain. In order
to appease the two girls, I went over to the owner to borrow his huqin.
¹?W]TL aW] UQVL TMVLQVO UM aW]Z huqin'º 1 I[SML 0M XWTQMTa PIVLML
it over to me.
I returned inside the teahouse with the instrument in my hand. The
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XTIa Q' ,W aW]'º 1 XZWKMMLMLW [PW_ PMU PW_ 1V Ua aW]VOMZ LIa[
7
Jiao, equivalent to one-tenth of one yuan, the standard measure of Chinese currency.
8
A two-stringed musical instrument.
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Feng Zikai
127
1 PIL TMIZVML PM ]VM ¹8T]U *TW[[WU[º NZWU )P 9QVO PM ÅZM_WWL
dealer who lived next door to us, and the basics of huqin from the tailor, a big fellow, living across the street. That is why, although I had grown
rusty with the huqin, I still managed to hit the notes correctly. Ah Qing’s t
eaching method was most unique: He only played the tune but never
showed me any musical scores, and it turned out that although he
played the tune expertly, he did not read music. I could only look upon
him with awe, knowing full well that I would never learn to play as well
as he. Later, I found out that the tailor knew music, so I asked him to
teach me. He wrote down on a piece of paper the scale positions of
the xiao gong mode and the zheng gong mode, and in this way, I began my practice of huqin. That I am still able to play the notes right is partly due to my previous experience with the violin and partly due to what I
learned from the tailor.
There in that teahouse in the mountains, then, I sat down at the
window with rain pouring right outside and slowly and leisurely—I
would have made mistakes otherwise—played a few Western tunes. Like
singing girls on the West Lake, the two little girls sang along, drawing
people from the houses to come and watch. One of the girls wanted to
[QVO ¹
along. As I accompanied her on the huqin, the young people joined in,
all at once bringing warmth to this desolate place in the bitter rain. For
seven years, I had earned my living as a music teacher, accompanying
a quartet of mixed chorus on the piano and playing Beethoven sonatas,
but never in my life had I enjoyed music as much as I did that day.
Two empty rickshaws came by and we decided to take them. I paid
for the tea and returned the huqin, and we said good-bye to the young
people from the village and boarded the rickshaws. The oilcloth was let
down in front of my eyes, blocking the rain from view. I thought back
to our experience a moment ago, and felt that the huqin was indeed
I _WVLMZN]T QV[Z]UMV ) XQIVW Q[ I[ PMI^a I[ I KWNÅV IVL I ^QWTQV
costs twenty, thirty, or even as much as a hundred yuan. Although they are superbly made, how many people on this earth can afford to enjoy
them? A huqin costs but a few jiao. Although its range is not as wide as the violin’s, it is certainly adequate for popular tunes. And although the
quality of its sound is not as beautiful, it is not at all intolerable when
tuned right. This instrument is very widespread among the Chinese
XMWXTM AW] KIV ÅVL Q QV JIZJMZ[PWX[ IVL IQTWZ [PWX[ WV JWI[ QV
northern Jiangsu or in small remote villages. If only we could compose a
