Hong lou meng: chapters 54-56, clichés, servants, Xifeng, 2 Baoyus

1/ Chapter 54 has a funny scene where I think Cao Xueqin takes a jab at Chinese romantic fiction—Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) goes on a rant about the clichés of the genre and its lack of realism. 

This bit is interesting: 

“‘… In other cases the writers have been corrupted by reading this sort of stuff before they begin to write any themselves, and, though totally ignorant of what life in educated, aristocratic families is really like, portray their heroines in this way simply because everyone else does so and they think it will please their readers. I ask you now, never mind very grand families like the ones they pretend to be writing about, even in average well-to-do families like ours when do you ever hear of such carryings-on?...’” 

This relates to my point in the previous blog post that Hong lou meng had to be written by a rich person, who knew about the lifestyles, customs, and habits in such a family. The whole rant also reminds me of the clichés and unrealistic tropes of the English sentimental novel that Jane Austen was reacting to and parodying in her works.  

I think this isn’t just the opinion of the character but also the opinion of the author because earlier the stone (after its life on earth) talks about its own story and derides other books, which David Hawkes translates as “historical romances”, “the erotic novel”, and “boudoir romances”. 

“‘… And the “boudoir romances”, those dreary stereotypes with their volume after volume all pitched on the same note and their different characters undistinguishable except by name (all those ideally beautiful young ladies and ideally eligible young bachelors) – even they seem unable to avoid descending sooner or later into indecency.’” (Ch.1) 

The story says its story is different—Cao Xueqin says his novel does something new. 

It is to my disadvantage that I jumped straight into Hong lou meng without knowing anything about the Chinese works that came before—I do not know how different or innovative it is, and can only hear from others.

2/ Cao Xueqin spends 2 chapters (53 and 54) describing the Lunar New Year celebrations, which are just as grand, extravagant, and excessive as other parties and festivities of the Giả (Jia) family, even more, but now there is no sense of happiness and security like before—there is nothing in the descriptions themselves, but one cannot help thinking about Giả Trân’s (Jia Zhen) words in chapter 53 about their actual financial state. There is a shadow, except that we know it but the teenagers of the house and the matriarch don’t know it. 

3/ Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) is a superb creation. She is brutal and heartless, but also funny, shrewd, and capable. Normally other characters including the grandmother talk about how well she manages the household and has everything under her control, but we don’t really see it until she’s unwell and absent, as in chapter 55, and everything is left to other people. 

By making her sick, Cao Xueqin lets us see the pressure on the person managing the house—just look at the way the servants try to test Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) and Thám Xuân (Tanchun) to see what they do and to act accordingly. He also contrasts the widow and Thám Xuân (Tanchun), who is one of the talented poets but so far has been rather outshone by some of her cousins. Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) is even older than Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), but Thám Xuân (Tanchun) is cleverer and doesn’t let anyone bully her, even her mother, Triệu di nương (concubine Zhao).

The character I like, however, is Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience). She and Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma) are loyal and always have their master’s or mistress’s interests at heart, without kowtowing and cowering, without losing dignity. She is also smart and perceptive, thinks about everyone, and knows how to resolve conflicts, unlike the hot-tempered Tình Văn (Qingwen/ Skybright).

My writings about Hong lou meng so far might have created the wrong impression that Cao Xueqin is on the side of servants, against the masters and mistresses. While I do think that apart from Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun), the most likable characters in the novel happen to be servants, it doesn’t mean that all servants are likable. This is a vast world, and Cao Xueqin depicts all kinds of servants: hot-tempered ones, greedy ones, lazy ones, unreliable ones, those who try to take advantage of the household, those who try to intimidate a soft or inexperienced mistress, those who get special treatment and fear nothing and curse the entire master family, thieves, etc. 

That reminds me of a servant who intrigued me earlier but seems to have been dropped from the narrative: Tiểu Hồng (Xiaohong/ Crimson), who first works in the household of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) though not directly for him and who is taken into Vương Hy Phượng’s (Wang Xifeng) household. She seems to have disappeared since then. 

4/ The character of Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) becomes deepened in chapter 55, and thus more sympathetic. Cao Xueqin has sympathy for even a cold, ruthless bitch. In terms of humanity and sympathy, I can see why someone may compare him to Tolstoy, though Tolstoy is superior stylistically and psychologically. This would need another post however.

A scene where she discusses with Bình Nhi (Patience) the young people is interesting. In this conversation, Cao Xueqin achieves 3 things: Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) has her own concerns and becomes more sympathetic; Bình Nhi (Patience) is seen as one of the very few people who truly understand her; and we get to hear them talk about the unfortunate situation of Thám Xuân (Tanchun), being daughter of a concubine.  

The pity is that Cao Xueqin doesn’t write more about Vương Hy Phượng’s (Wang Xifeng) miscarriage and her feelings about it. This detail is only reported at the beginning of the chapter, as though there’s no significance. This is one of the many cases where I want him to write more, to dig deeper, but he doesn’t. 

5/ The stars in the first half of chapter 56 are Thám Xuân (Tanchun) and Bảo Thoa (Baochai), especially the latter, who is clever, politic, and prudent. Whether or not I personally like her is beside the point, she has here an understanding and maturity that you wouldn’t expect from Đại Ngọc (Daiyu), who seems to live in the world of poetry and emotions more than in the real world of such mundane concerns. 

This scene also contrasts nicely with a scene a few chapters earlier, where Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) has no understanding whatsoever of money and doesn’t care how much is given to the incompetent doctor. 

Hong lou meng shouldn’t be reduced to a self-help book, but you can learn from it how to behave and treat other people, how to be an employee, how to be an employer, etc. (Maybe I say that because Vietnamese culture has a lot in common with Chinese. A Westerner may not feel the same, and might just find the customs and behaviour here alien and exotic). 

6/ Chapter 56 is a magnificent chapter, especially in the later half. The magical elements of Hong lou meng now return—Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu) meets Chân Bảo Ngọc (Zhen Baoyu), his alter ego, his second self. It is a very interesting scene. 

They share the same first name, note the significance of their last names: 賈 (Giả, Jia) is a homophone of 假, meaning “false, fictitious”; and 甄 (Chân, Zhen) is a homophone of 真, meaning “real”. The false Baoyu meets the real Baoyu. 

Look back at the couplet at the beginning of the novel:

“Giả bảo là chân, chân cũng giả, 

Không làm ra có, có rồi không.” (Ch.1) 

In English: 

“Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true;

Real becomes not-real where the unreal's real.” (Ch.1) 

That is the one by David Hawkes. The one by the Yangs is better, I think.

“When false is taken for true, true becomes false;

If non-being turns into being, being becomes non-being.”

I should ponder about this encounter for some time before writing more.