by Tam King-fai
and a night. But on such occasions, fatigue always overwhelmed hunger.
Besides, when we awoke from our sleep, cooked millet from the troops
would be delivered to our kang. 4 I remember that the worst food I ever tasted was soup made solely from green onions, and the worst staple was
purple bread made of sorghum, which had a nice color but tasted like
mud. What cause do I have to complain?
V
1 IU I UIV WN UIVa LZMIU[ :WUIQV :WTTIVL WVKM [IQL ¹
such a thirst for happiness in the human spirit that, denied happiness in
ZMITQa Q _QTT PQVS WN [WUM _Ia W KZMIM Qº ?PMV Q Q[ QUXW[[QJTM W
create happiness, human beings will substitute dreams for it. I am not
speaking metaphorically, by the way; I am speaking of the kind of real
dreams that appear in our sleep at night.
,ZMIU[ IZM QV NIK I SQVL WN ZMÆMKQWV WN W]Z TQ^M[ IVL PW]OP[
If I were to categorize all the dreams I have ever had, it would be clear
that there are two kinds of new dreams that I never had before. One is
3
December 9 Movement is a student movement organized in 1935 to protest
Japanese aggression toward China.
4
A bed, usually made of bricks, that is warmed from below.
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He Qifang
259
political, and the other has to do with hunger. My arm was dislocated
once when I fell from a horse at the front. After a doctor put it back in
place and bandaged my arm, I was told to rest. I dreamed of milk on
that occasion. In my dream, I saw a tall, white Swedish porcelain jar,
KWUXTMM _QP PIVLTM IVL [XW] ÅTTML _QP UQTS ?PMV 1 XQKSML Q ]X
by the handle and poured the milk into a cup, it was thick and steaming.
drink the milk, I awoke from my dream. I have that kind of dream every
VW_ IVL PMV 5WZM ZMKMVTa 1 LZMIUML PI 1 XI[[ML Ja I ZWWU ÅTTML
_QP KISM[ IVL XI[ZQM[ IVL KW]TL VW [WX Ua[MTN NZWU []NÅVO Ua
pockets with goodies. Then I dreamed that I was sitting at a feast, eating
many dishes of delicious food. Would someone laugh at me for having
such dreams of food and gluttony? I suppose that when dreams like this
become no longer the sole property of a special minority of Chinese
people, but are that of the majority, or close to the majority—those now
poor and hungry—then there will be nothing to be ashamed of.
Among our ranks, there are perhaps some who may have come
with the white wings of the angels, but I feel much more intimate with
the humble ones, with their less-than-beautiful stigma of suffering, who
have come along this uneven road step by step on their coarse, even
bleeding, feet. They are much more like brothers born from the same
mother. I shared only for a short time the fate of these people who,
while entertaining golden dreams of the future, had to endure the most
ordinary hunger and poverty in the present. But I realize that the hunger
that I felt for a long time in the past was of a different kind altogether,
QV[QOVQÅKIVJaKWUXIZQ[WVIVLKW]TLWVTaJM][MLI[IUMIXPWZ¸Ua
hunger for love in the human world.
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qr
Su Qing
Su Qing (1917–1982) made her literary fame on the Lone Island, as
occupied Shanghai was known during the War of Resistance against
Japan. Like Zhang Ailing, another Lone Island writer to whom she
is often compared, Su’s reputation is attributable to her literary
achievements as much as her well-publicized personal life. As a divorcee,
she was the subject of many rumors, which she fanned with the frank
depiction of her unsatisfying marriage in her writing.
Understandably, gender issues are one of the recurrent subjects to
which she turns. Su is extremely critical of the social hypocrisy that
keeps women under men’s thumbs. The system of marriage often comes
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an otherwise nostalgic essay about Su’s grandmother, is wrought with
gender tension: The father is depicted as an intrusive force that disrupts
the close relationship between grandmother and granddaughter. In
writing if not as much in life, Su shows that it is possible for women
to be independent of men, even if it can only be realized at a high
emotional cost.
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262
A Garden of One’s Own
Sweet Bean Cakes (1943)
For a while, I had four packets of sweet bean cakes on my desk. I
thought I would never eat them, but I still could not bear to throw them
out.
A week ago, Cousin He Guan brought me these sweet bean cakes
specially from Elgin Road. When he saw me, he didn’t waste any time
on pleasantries, but immediately put the sweet bean cakes into my hand
_QP OZMI KIZM [IaQVO ¹AW]Z OZIVLUWPMZ I[SML UM W JZQVO PM[M W
aW] 1 _MV W 6QVOJW TI[ UWVP IVL WVTa OW JIKS aM[MZLIaº ?PMV
PM_I[ÅVQ[PMLPM_IVMLWTMI^MIVLOWPWUMJMKI][MPMZQKS[PI_
that had brought him here was still waiting at the door.
I held onto him tightly and wouldn’t let him go, at the same time
asking the servant to send the rickshaw away. So, he sat down and told
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[IQLÅVITTaZM]ZVQVOWPMWXQK¹IZM;PIVJMQXZWL]K[;WUMWVMOI^M
them to your grandmother, but she thought they were too precious for
her to eat, and insisted that I bring them to you. ‘Ah Qing loves to eat
sweet bean cakes most,’ she said. ‘She used to sleep with me in the same
bed when she was little. When she woke up in the middle of the night,
she’d fuss around and want to get out of bed. Then I’d pick up some
sweet bean cake crumbs and put them in her mouth, and she would
[_ITTW_PMUIVLY]QMLW_V¼º
I was abashed to hear that, and to hide my embarrassment, I
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LIa['º
Cousin He Guan cocked his head and thought for a while. Then
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UMUWZaPI[NIQTML[WUM_PIº
Then he told me a story. It happened that when she had asked him
to bring me the sweet bean cakes, she had also insisted that he stay to
have a snack with her. She had groped around under her pillow for a
long time, and then pulled out a black woven bag used to hold loose
change. She opened the bag carefully, pulled out a few small paper
notes, and looked them over again and again. Finally, she picked out
an old green one, and put it in my younger brother’s hand. She said,
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ten stuffed steamed buns. Be quick about it!... Make sure they’re hot....
Cousin He Guan is going to take these sweet bean cakes to your sister,
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Su Qing
263
and we have nothing good to treat him with.... These are just ordinary
things, just ten steamed stuffed buns.... Here you go, ten cents, hold
WV QOP VW_º ?PMV PM PMIZL PQ[ Ua aW]VOMZ JZWPMZ KW]TL VW
suppress his laughter, and he winked at Cousin He Guan and went out.
After a while, he came skipping back with a bowl of steamed stuffed
buns. My grandmother picked out two for Cousin He Guan, and two
NWZ Ua aW]VOMZ JZWPMZ U]UJTQVO ITT PM _PQTM ¹
just ten steamed stuffed buns, and they’re so small... ten cents for ten
stuffed buns, that’s one whole cent for each bun.... One cent is three
KWXXMZKWQV[IVL_PMVaW]ILLPMU]Xº0MIZQVOPQ[UaaW]VOMZ
brother’s mouth opened all the more widely with laughter and he
choked on his last small bite of bun. Cousin He Guan thought it was
funny, too. Later, he said, my brother told him that the cheapest steamed
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Besides, the paper note my grandmother had given him was an old note
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selling the buns took only reluctantly.
When I heard this, I also felt like laughing, but when I looked
down at the four packets of sweet bean cakes in my hand, my smile
disappeared. Soon afterward, Cousin He Guan took his leave, and I
carefully put the four packets of sweet bean cakes on my desk.
After sitting for a while on my desk—a place ill-suited to storing
such things—the sweet bean cakes had already become rather damp.
Even the paper wrapping was moist with melted sugar. I thought to
Ua[MTN¹;QVKMUaOZIVLUWPMZMVZ][ML[WUMWVMWJZQVOPM[MWUM
NZWU I TWVO _Ia I_Ia 1 ZMITTa [PW]TL MI IVL MVRWa PMUº *] PMV 1
PW]OP¹1¼[VWOWWLWMI\PQVO[PIIZMITZMILaLIUX1¼TTR][SMMX
PMUIZW]VLI[I[W]^MVQZº
That’s why the four packets of sweet bean cakes had remained on
my desk all that time.
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WN PMXMZ[WVº?PMVM^MZ1KI]OP[QOPWN PM[_MMJMIVKISM[1^MZa
naturally thought of my grandmother. My grandmother is of slender
build, and she has a light complexion with well-formed features. Her
only shortcoming is that her teeth are very bad. At six years old, when
I came home from my maternal grandmother’s home, I began to share
a bed with her. At the time, she had only three front teeth left, but she
liked sweet things and used to eat them in bed whenever she awoke in
the middle of the night.
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264
A Garden of One’s Own
We used to sleep in a big bamboo Ningbo bed. There was a net
made of blue linen hanging over it that hadn’t been washed for years.
Even the white top of the net had turned gray. On the inner side of the
bed was a propped-up board, which she used for storing her snacks. I
slept on the inside, and had to burrow my way right under the board.
If I were careless when I sat up in the morning, my head would bump
against it, and the snacks placed on top would jiggle up and down like
a boat being tossed about on rocky seas. Sometimes they would even
fall down from the board. When that happened, they had no chance of
survival: Either I would devour them all by myself, or my grandmother
and I would share them.
By nature, my grandmother liked to move around, and the thing she
liked to move the most was her mouth. After she got up in the morning,
her mouth would start mumbling until nighttime when everybody
went to bed. Only then would she stop. As soon as her mouth stopped
moving, she would fall sleep, snoring very loudly. Sometimes she made
so much noise that I was unable to sleep. Whenever this happened, I
would grope around in the dark and reach up to steal food from the
board. Most of what was up there were sweet bean cakes. I would
grab a packet, quietly lie down again, open the wrapping, and start
eating. The crumbs would fall all over the pillow and the bedding, and
sometimes even into my eyes, but I didn’t care. I would break up the
bean cakes into small bits and eat them in the dark, sometimes even
tearing the wrapping into pieces and eating it as well.
In the middle of the night, if my grandmother stopped snoring, she
too would reach up for something to eat. She had a remarkable ability
W ÅVL PQVO[ QV PM LIZS VM^MZ J]UXQVO QVW IVaPQVO WZ VMMLQVO W
rummage around for what she was looking for. Whatever it might be,
[PM IT_Ia[ UIVIOML W ÅVL Q ;WUMQUM[ [PM _W]TL KW]V PM [_MM
bean cake packets in the dark and discover that one was missing. Then
she would nudge me awake and ask me about it. I would stretch my
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U][ PI^M MIMV Qº *] PMZ PIVL SVM_ JM\MZ ;PM _W]TL NMMT IZW]VL
PM XQTTW_ IVL ÅVL KZ]UJ[ [KI\MZML WV PM JMLLQVO 4I]OPQVO [PM
_W]TLPMVXQVKPUMIVL[Ia¹6WQU][JM this little mouse who stole Qº
Feeling her pinch, I would wake up completely, and the two of us
would eat the sweet bean cakes in the dark. She never lit the lamp in the
middle of the night because she didn’t want to waste any lamp oil and
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Su Qing
265
[PM_I[INZIQLPI_MUQOPIKKQLMVITTa[M\PMVMWVÅZM;PM_W]TL
put a pinch of crumbs in my mouth, telling me to wait till they melted
before swallowing them. Then, with a gulp, I would swallow them, and
she would pick up another pinch and put it in my mouth again. Thus,
slowly and quietly, the two of us would eat sweet bean cakes in the small
PW]Z[WN PMUWZVQVO?PMV_MÅVQ[PMLWVMXIKSM1_W]TLKTIUWZNWZ
more. She would not let me have it, though, and would try to put me to
sleep again by gently patting me. Before long, I would drift off to sleep,
and her snoring would resume again.
We never made our bed, so all over the pillows and underneath
the quilts there were bean cake crumbs and bits and scraps of other
things. As we climbed into bed, we would hear a rustling sound, but we
were used to it and never felt any discomfort. When we woke up in the
morning, we would simply straighten the quilt a little, but never dusted
the bedding. The crumbs were thus allowed to remain where they had
dropped.
Sometimes, crumbs from the bean cakes would stick to my ears
and face, and when my grandmother saw this the next day, she would
carefully pick them off my face and put them in her mouth, saying
it would be a crime not to eat them. I would pester her when I saw
this, asking why, if they were stuck to my face, she didn’t give them to me.
When all efforts to appease me had failed, she would go into our
room, open another packet and give me a small pinch. She would then
carefully wrap up the remainder, and save it for later that night.
To my grandmother, sweet bean cakes were a special delicacy, and
the old bamboo bed, her treasure house. Later, I too was drawn to the
treasure house. When I did not get enough sweet bean cakes by asking,
I would resort to stealing. After that, she started storing them in another
place, and would not put them in the treasure house until nighttime. My
craving for them got stronger and stronger, however, and I could barely
wait for nighttime to come. When night had fallen, I would hurry my
grandmother to bed, hoping that she would wake up a bit earlier to eat
the sweet bean cakes.
One day, my father came back from Shanghai. Everybody talked
and talked until late into the night.
I woke up in the middle of the night and could not find my
grandmother. I groped around for some sweet bean cakes and could not
ÅVL IVa 1 _IVML W KITT W] J] _I[ INZIQL WN PM [ZIVOMZ _PW _I[
my father. I was extremely distressed. After waiting for a long time, I
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266
A Garden of One’s Own
could not bear it any longer. I began to feel around my pillow and under
the blanket, picked up the crumbs that were lying around, and started
eating them. Just when I was about to swallow, I suddenly heard people
coming into the room. I dared not make a sound, and quickly hid my
head under the blanket. I lay there motionless, pretending to be asleep.
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said. He got closer, and was about to pull the quilt off my head.
My heart jumped. Fortunately, my grandmother stopped him, and
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My father did not say anything. I heard the rustling sound of my
grandmother taking off her clothes to get ready for bed.
Some sweet bean cakes were in my mouth; the melted sugar mixed
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hard to bear, but I tried with all the strength I could summon not to
