by Tam King-fai
to and we won’t have to be loners sitting uncomfortably among a pack
of strangers, feeling anxious and abandoned. When the few of us are
absorbed into our own conversations, we look up every now and then
at the person across the table from us. He sits there forlornly, alone.
When we raise our cups, he raises his, too. When the food comes, one
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to do but eat. When the food is gone, he can only sit there by himself,
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Q[ [QTT WJTQOML W PIVO IZW]VL ]VQT PM NMI[ Q[ ÅVITTa W^MZ IVL PM KIV
stand up to leave.
If the pleasures of dinner parties were nothing more than this, then
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parties. And if the joy of drinking were merely thus, then we should pull
Du Kang3 and Dionysus down from their exalted positions.
Fortunately, however, some dinner parties are not like these, and
there are other circumstances conducive to the pleasure of drinking. It
has been said that drinking by oneself is most enjoyable. When I was
little, I often saw my grandfather holding a tin decanter and pouring
yellow wine into a small white porcelain cup for himself alone. He would
lift the cup and take a small sip—just a small sip—and put it down. He
would then pick up some food with his chopsticks. In this way, he would
slowly enjoy his wine and food. Even after we had put down our bowls
and chopsticks and left the table, he would still be raising his cup and
taking small sips. His real dinner would not even start until an hour and
3
Du Kang, an emperor of the Xia dynasty (2205–1766 BC), is also known as the
ÅZ[XMZ[WVQV+PQVM[MPQ[WZaWUISM_QVM
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Zheng Zhenduo
137
a half later. As he drank, his face would turn pink, and he would often
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would pick up some morsels of food from the dishes prepared specially
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and we often nodded our heads in reply. Among the grandchildren, he
was especially fond of me, and I was summoned to his side most often.
He would often kiss my cheek, the stubble above his lips scratching and
hurting me. The smell of wine from his mouth and nose was hard to
bear.
Day after day, he would pass the afternoon and the evening in this
way. I have never had the chance to experience this kind of pleasure,
but as I think back now, it seems to me that he was very cheerful then.
He was totally drunk with happiness and lived in the midst of joy, as if
all of his burdens and worries had been lifted from his heart. This was
his whole world, and the whole world was completely his.
There is another kind of pleasure to be found in dinner parties that
I have come to appreciate in recent years, namely getting together with
a few friends with whom one can talk about anything at all. There are
no unfamiliar faces around the table, and we can casually drink and
eat. The topics of conversation range from heaven to earth. Sometimes
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Sometimes, we get deep into conversation about scholarship and the
arts; at other times, we freely tease each other; at yet other times,
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hot. Lofty ideals may come to grace our discussions, and talk of love
encounters, family affairs, and personal matters urge us to go on and
on. We bare our hearts to each other, and reveal the faces that we would
not normally show to the world. We talk and talk, more and more
excitedly, and forget what it feels like to be tired. The wine is all gone,
so is the food, but we keep the conversation going. Even if the place
is noisy or shabby, a place where we normally would not like to spend
even one more second, at this particular moment we are oblivious to its
[PWZKWUQVO[IVLOWWVITSQVO6WJWLaQ[_QTTQVOWJMPMÅZ[WVMW
stand up and take his leave, and if it were not for the curfew or family
injunctions, no one would go. Although idle chats like this might appear
to be extremely trivial or meaningless, we have come to appreciate the
pleasure of dining together. The truth of the matter is that one could
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_MQVÆ]MVKM]VLMZ[IVLIVLTMIZVIVLJMVMÅNZWUMIKPWPMZ
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138
A Garden of One’s Own
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¹6W1KIV¼\ISMIVaUWZMIVLPI¼[PMZ]Pº
People who cannot drink are often forced to drink more than they
can take. Their faces glow under the light, and they look more robust
and radiant than ever.
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like to gulp down a whole cup at a time.
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the end he also gulps down a whole cup, one after another.
Sometimes we even pressure teetotalers like Yuzhi5 and Yanbing6 to
drink a cup with us, whereupon everyone roars with laughter, the kind
of pure laughter that comes from the heart.
Yet another example is on festivals, when the whole family sits
around a table, on top of which are placed some ten pairs of red
lacquered chopsticks. Even those who are away from home have a
pair, and seats are placed at the table on their behalf. Little children
laugh and play rowdily, and gentle smiles can be seen on the faces of
the mother and the grandmother. The wife is busy supervising the
servants cooking in the kitchen and bringing food out to the living room.
Although this is not the same as partying with one’s friends, there is a
special kind of harmonious feeling to it, envied to no end by people who
live alone.
Then there is the pleasure of eating dinner with one’s love in a
quiet room in a hotel. Or, coming out of the theater with one’s wife,
one might want to go to a restaurant to have a cup or two. Or, by the
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the leisure of staying up late with a few small dishes of food. All are
extremely joyful occasions that can transport the soul of anyone who
takes part in them.
The pleasures of food and wine can be so diverse!
4
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_IKPQVOºIVL¹:IVLWU:MUQVQ[KMVKM[ºIZMQVKT]LMLQVPQ[IVPWTWOa
5
Hu Yuzhi (1896–1986), a famous journalist.
6
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PM;
WZUº_PQKPQ[QVKT]LMLQVPQ[IVPWTWOa
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qr
Zhu Ziqing
Zhu Ziqing (1898–1948) was an accomplished essayist and poet and
a noted scholar of classical Chinese literature. He taught Chinese in
Qinghua University and many high schools, and in such a capacity, co-
edited with other writers and teachers many language textbooks that
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of his essays are considered to be models of modern prose, and as
such, have been included in many textbooks and anthologies. He also
left behind scholarly treatises on various genres of Chinese literature,
especially shih poetry.
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unpretentious air and a natural style. Sun Fuyuan notices accordingly
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most polemical pieces. More often, his essays deal with the pedestrian
goings-on around him—memories of his father or his wife, a walk by
the lotus pond, or a trip on the train. All these observations, however,
are imbued with the author’s profound emotions and his insights into
the workings of the human world.
The two essays collected here represent two of the major themes
that Zhu Ziqing explores in his works: family relationship and social
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IOMWTL XZIKQKM WN IZZIVOML UIZZQIOM _PQTM ¹:IVLWU 6WM[ WV ;MI
monopolized the attendant profession on passenger boats. Both arranged
marriage and the Ningbo gang are something of the past, and for that
very reason, Zhu’s essays have now become important social documents.
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140
A Garden of One’s Own
Looking for a Mate (1934)
I am the oldest son in our family, as well as the oldest grandson. This is
why, when I was not quite eleven years old, there was discussion about
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before I knew it, a mate had been found for me. The bride was from
my great grandmother’s maiden family, and she lived in a village in
a small county in the northern part of Jiangsu. Our family, probably
including me, had also lived there for a long time, but I am too stupid
to remember a single thing about the place. My grandmother had often
talked about it from her opium couch, and she would mention the name
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be enveloped in a haze of white mist, but as time went by, they became
familiar, even intimate. I felt at that time that, apart from the place
where we were then living, the most interesting place in the world must
JM PI ^QTTIOM SVW_V I[ ¹
heard that my future wife lived there, I found that to be the way things
should be, and did not have any objections.
Every year, someone would come from the village to visit. They
would be dressed in short blue coats with long-stemmed pipes in their
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dried sweet potatoes. Sometimes they would also talk to us about the
young girl. She was probably four years older than I, rather tall, with
small feet. At that time, though, I was actually more excited about the
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I remember that when I was twelve, they sent news from the place
that the young mistress had died of consumption. Nobody at home
expressed any sorrow, probably because when they had last seen her,
she had still been very little, and now that many years had passed, they
could not remember what she was like. My father was working as a
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anxious about my marriage, asked the tailor who often came to our
home to sew to serve as matchmaker, for tailors frequented many homes
and had the chance to see their womenfolk.
The idea seemed to work. The tailor came back one day and told
us about the prospects of a particular family: They were wealthy, with
two daughters. One had been born to the concubine, while the one
with whom he was trying to match me was the older daughter born
W PM ÅZ[ _QNM 0M [IQL PI PM WPMZ [QLM PIL []OOM[ML PI PM _W
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Zhu Ziqing
141
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mother agreed and an appointment was set for the tailor to bring me
to a teahouse. I remember it being winter, and on that day, my mother
made me put on my date-colored robe made of Nanjing silk, a black
mandarin jacket of the same material, and my black satin skullcap with
the red knot. She also instructed to me conduct myself with care.
In the teahouse, we met with a man sent to observe me. He had a
square face and big ears, and was almost the same age as I am now. He
was wearing a cloth robe and a cloth mandarin jacket, and looked as if
he were in mourning. He was rather kind, and, as he looked me over,
asked me what book I was then studying and other such questions. After
we got home, the tailor said that the man had examined me very closely,
that he thought that the area between my nose and lips was long, and
therefore that I would live to a ripe old age. He also observed the way
I walked for fear there might be something wrong with my feet. In any
event, now that they had observed me, it was our turn to observe her.
My mother sent along her trusted old nanny, who came back with the
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up a round-backed armchair when she sat down. The second daughter, on
the other hand, was rather slender. My mother said that women who were
too fat could have trouble conceiving, like so-and-so among our relatives.
She then suggested to the tailor that he match me up with the second
daughter. The other family was apparently offended by this proposal and
would not agree to it. And so the matter came to an end.
Somewhat later, my mother got to know a woman at the mah-jongg
table. The woman had a daughter who seemed clever and alert, and my
mother’s interest was aroused. When she came home, she told us that
the young girl was the same age as I, and that, from the way she hopped
about, it was obvious that she was still a child. Some time passed, and
my mother sent someone to sound out the family. Apparently, the head
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father’s—it was the year before the restoration1 and people were still
concerned about such things—and that is why they were happy with
the match. The whole affair had almost come to fruition when, all of
a sud
den, something went wrong. My mother had somehow found out
that a widow employed by a grandmother in our clan knew the family
1
That is, the restoration of rule by Han Chinese in 1911, when Manchu rule
was overthrown.
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142
A Garden of One’s Own
very well. My mother had summoned her for information, and she was
evasive in her answers. Finally, however, the truth came out. It turned
out that the young girl had been adopted, though the family doted on
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years later, we heard that the girl had contracted tuberculosis and had
become addicted to opium. My mother said thank goodness we had not
gone ahead with the match! I was beginning to understand things like
this, and had similar thoughts.
In the year of the restoration, my father came down with typhoid
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to become my future father-in-law. One day, the manservant who was
often sent to call for the doctor came back to say that the doctor had a
daughter at home. Since my father was lying sick, my mother naturally
was all the more worried about my marriage prospects. As soon as she
heard the news, she bombarded the servant with questions. Now, the
servant was just making offhand remarks and of course could not give
satisfactory answers to all my mother’s questions. When the doctor came
the next time, my mother sent someone to ask one of his sedan carriers
whether the young lady had been born to the family. The carrier said
yes. My mother then brought the matter up with my father, and asked
my uncle to speak to the doctor. I was sitting by my father’s sick bed that
day and heard every word. After ascertaining that the young lady had
not been promised to anybody in marriage, my uncle asked the doctor,
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What followed was for the two families to observe the two of us. Once
again, my mother sent her trusted old nanny. This time the report was
favorable, even though she felt that the feet of the young lady were a bit
big. So it was decided. My mother conveyed through the sedan carrier
