Hong lou meng: chapters 57-60, Daiyu, actors, servants’ hierarchy

1/ After the magnificent chapter 56, 57 is a bit of a disappointment. However the mad scene of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) explains a scene back in chapter 32, about which I complained in an old blog post (at number 3). 

2/ The focus of Hong lou meng is the girls and women. As the girls are growing up and would soon have to worry about marriage, in chapter 55 Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) and Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience) allude to Giả Thám Xuân’s (Jia Tanchun) bad marriage prospects because of her inferior status; now in chapter 57, Tử Quyên (Zijuan/ Nightingale) worries about Lâm Đại Ngọc’s (Lin Daiyu) future. 

Cao Xueqin writes happy, joyful scenes of the cousins together but there’s always some shadow hanging over them, some hint of a dark future ahead. 

3/ In Hong lou meng, Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu) and Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai) are conceived as foils to each other. In popular culture, Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is the pragmatic, proper, and prudent one but lacks passion and doesn’t have an emotional bond with Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)—she is Sense; Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is the delicate, hypersensitive, melancholic, and poetic one—she is Sensibility. The latter is seen as the one with depth of feeling. 

But now I don’t quite think so. Think about it, does Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) really have depth of feeling as people say? Or her feeling is mostly for herself, Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), and “abstract things” such as poetry, autumn rain, or dead flowers, not other people? 

Contrast her with Bảo Thoa (Baochai). After the beating, Bảo Thoa (Baochai) says nothing but brings medicine; Đai Ngọc (Daiyu) brings nothing but herself, and just cries. Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is the one who is considerate of other people’s feelings, she is the one who tries to do some kindness to Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun), Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma), Hình Tụ Yên (Xing Xiuyan)… Or if we look at Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)—he may be seen as foolish and cannot do much, but he’s sensitive to other people’s suffering and tries to take care of his (female) cousins and servants. 

Placed next to them, does Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) not appear self-centred? Does her sensitivity not appear hollow? 

Of course you may argue that she doesn’t have the freedom and financial independence of Bảo Thoa (Baochai), but I’d say that she doesn’t seem to care much about other feeling’s plight either. She is more sensitive to the melancholy of autumn rain or dead flowers than to the feelings of other people. And speaking of lack of freedom or financial independence, we can look at Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun). 

4/ Note for the troupe of actors and actresses in chapter 58:

Văn Quan (Élégante)=> goes to Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu).

Phương Quan (Parfumée)=> goes to Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu).

Nhụy Quan (Étamine)=> goes to Bảo Thoa (Baochai).

Ngẫu Quan (Nénuphar)=> goes to Đại Ngọc (Daiyu).

Quỳ Quan (Althée)=> goes to Tương Vân (Xiangyun).

Đậu Quan (Cardamome)=> goes to Bảo Cầm (Baoqin).

Ngải Quan (Artémisie)=> goes to Thám Xuân (Tanchun).

Già Quan (Aubergine)=> goes to Vưu Thị (You-shi). 

Chapters 58 and 59 are about the small actors who stay with the Giả (Jia) family after others have gone home. They stay either because they have nowhere else to go, or because they don’t want to be sold again. Cao Xueqin doesn’t seem to leave out any group, any class of people living in these mansions. He sees them all and depicts them all.

5/ Look at these lines from Xuân Yến (Swallow), daughter of a servant named già Hà (mamma He), who is godmother of Phương Quan (Parfumée): 

“‘… it does seem to be as Bao-yu once said. “A girl before she marries is like a priceless pearl, but once she marries the pearl loses its lustre and develops all sorts of disagreeable flaws, and by the time she’s an old woman, she’s no longer like a pearl at all, more like a boiled fish’s eye.” He said, “How can the same person, at different times in her life, seem like three completely different people?” – Of course, I knew at the time he was only talking his usual nonsense; but really there does seem to be some truth in it. I don’t know about other people’s families, but it’s certainly true of my mother and my aunt. The older they get, the more they seem to care about nothing else but money.’” (Ch.59) 

HAHAHAHAHAHA that final line. 

This however confirms my generalisation in an earlier blog post about girls vs women in Hong lou meng. 

6/ There is strict hierarchy in the Giả (Jia) family, there is also hierarchy among the servants. It is a complex, intricate world and there is a clear sense of order that nobody can violate. We already see this throughout the novel but it becomes the focus of chapter 59.  

These chapters have lots of fighting, lots of pettiness, lots of spite. 

Chapter 60 becomes more complex when there’s a conflict between Phương Quan (Parfumée) and Triệu di nương (concubine Zhao). It’s a conflict between a child actor, or former child actor, whose status and rank in the house are unclear compared to the rest, and a concubine, who is above the servants but not equal to the mistresses of the house.     

Again I think the Vietnamese translation is much better to read than the English translation (except for the poems) because there is a stronger, more colourful tone in the dialogue, especially in sarcastic remarks or in fighting scenes such as we see in these chapters. 

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. 

Hong lou meng: chapters 52-53, Cao Xueqin’s humanity, Ning-Rong, textual problems

1/ Let’s again compare Hong lou meng and The Tale of Genji, in terms of characterisation. Both novels have a large scope and have about 400-500 characters, but whereas The Tale of Genji has about 20 characters we know well or truly well and within that group Murasaki Shikibu focuses on a handful of characters, Cao Xueqin treats nearly 40 characters as major. Murasaki Shikibu focuses more on depth, so we know Genji much better than we know Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) for example, but if we look at the entire canvas and compare the 2 novels as a whole, Cao Xueqin’s characters are more well-realised, more colourful and diverse, including people from different classes of society. The characters in Hong lou meng feel real, and there are often pairs of characters who appear similar but who are nevertheless distinct. 

For example, Tình Văn (Qingwen/ Skybright) also gets jealous and often makes snide remarks like Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) but doesn’t have her depth and sensitivity and tends to be more short-tempered; Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) and Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) are both charming, loud, and full of vitality, but Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) is cruel and often flatters the grandmother and gets away with slightly insulting her or pointing out her foibles by disguising it as a joke, whereas Tương Vân (Xiangyun) is forthright, sometimes without tact, but still lovable because she is kind, open-hearted, and intelligent; Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma) and Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience) are both excellent servants and kind girls, but Tập Nhân (Aroma) seems more reserved and patient, and doesn’t mind suffering a bit loss, such as with vú Lý (nannie Li), etc. 

We watch these characters go about their daily lives, watch them enter and exit the scenes… then Cao Xueqin gradually drops more details about them, gives them a backstory or adds some more layers and creates more depth. 

In chapter 19, he gives Tập Nhân (Aroma) a backstory, a family outside the Giả (Jia) family, and again alludes to it in chapter 51. 

In chapter 44, we get to know Bình Nhi (Patience) better. 

Now chapter 52 is devoted to Tình Văn (Skybright), another servant. 

This doesn’t mean that Cao Xueqin only cares about servants—earlier in the novel, we already saw him hint at the suffering of Giả Nguyên Xuân (Jia Yuanchun), the Imperial Consort. But the servants seem to get more sympathy, more understanding and love from him. 

As a novel, Hong lou meng is full of humanity and sympathy. At some point I would write a Cao Xueqin vs Tolstoy comparison, but not yet. 

2/ A very small detail in chapter 53 catches my attention: Giả Dung’s (Jia Rong) new wife Hồ thị (Hu-shi) is in the room with her mother-in-law Vưu thị (You-shi), but she leaves the room to avoid Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) when he enters. 

3/ The 2 men of the 2 branches of the Giả (Jia) family are named “for the first time” in chapter 53. Previously they were only referred to by their titles.  

Ninh quốc công (Duke of Ningguo) is Giả Diễn (Jia Yan). 

Vinh quốc công (Duke of Rongguo) is, well… 

Here, there is a continuity issue: the Vietnamese translation follows the Chinese text and says the name of Vinh quốc công (Duke of Rongguo) is Giả Pháp (Jia Fa), but the English translation goes with Jia Yuan because that’s the name given in chapter 3, when Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) moves into the house and sees the sign. The name in Vietnamese is Giả Nguyên. 

Now, if you look at my family tree, the majority of the characters are part of Vinh quốc (Rongguo) house: Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu), Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu), Giả Nguyên Xuân (Jia Yuanchun), Giả Thám Xuân (Jia Tanchun), Giả Nghênh Xuân (Jia Yingchun), Giả Liễn (Jia Lian)… 

A few others belong to the Ninh (Ningguo) house: Giả Trân (Jia Zhen), Giả Dung (Jia Rong), Giả Tích Xuân (Jia Xichun)…

Looking again at the family tree made me realise that I’d always grouped Tích Xuân (Xichun) together with the young people of the Vinh quốc (Rongguo) house because she’s brought up with other Xuân (Chun) girls and always hangs out with them, and Giả Dung (Jia Rong) is around their age, but Tích Xuân (Xichun) is actually the younger sister of his father Giả Trân (Jia Zhen).

4/ As I read about the Lunar New Year celebrations in chapter 53 (note that I say Lunar New Year, not Chinese New Year—Vietnamese people also celebrate it), I can’t help thinking that Hong lou meng has to be written by a rich person who went poor. 

Not a poor person, who wouldn’t have known such luxuries and wouldn’t have the education and the knowledge of so many fields.

Not a rich person who stayed rich either, who wouldn’t have known decline and in such a society of strict hierarchy probably wouldn’t have understood so well servants and poor people. 

5/ Chapter 53 would be the final chapter in volume 2 of the Penguin edition (David Hawkes and John Minford). Volume 2, as David Hawkes has pointed out in his introduction, focuses on the material world—gone are the Buddhist monk and Taoist priest, gone is Thái hư ảo cảnh (The land of illusion), nor do we see any ghosts. The supernatural and mythological elements were my favourite part of volume 1, but their absence in volume 2 isn’t a problem because the characters are now more developed and there is more poetry. In volume 2, we also see more, much more of Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun), my favourite of the girls.

Volume 2 ends with some bad signs: many characters have delicate health, especially Đại Ngọc (Daiyu), who constantly gets sick; and now we start to hear from the Giả (Jia) people themselves that they struggle financially because of their extravagant lifestyles and wasteful habits, and aren’t as wealthy and secure as they appear. 

6/ After reading David Hawkes’s preface to volume 3, I’m rather concerned about the different solutions of different texts to the continuity errors of the Chinese original. For the Hong lou meng read-along, Knulp Tanner is reading the French version, Vishy is reading the English translation by the Yangs called Dream of the Red Mansions, others are reading the English translation called The Story of the Stone by David Hawkes and John Minford, and I’m reading the Vietnamese one and occasionally check the Hawkes-Minford one. 

I remember the scene with Diệu Ngọc (Miaoyu/ Adamantina) in chapter 41. After her rant about tea and water…

This is the Hawkes text: 

“Dai-yu was too well aware of Adamantina’s eccentricity to attempt a reply; and since it felt awkward to sit there saying nothing, she signalled to Bao-chai that they should go.” 

This is the Vietnamese text:

“Bảo Thoa biết Diệu Ngọc có tính dở hơi, không thích nói nhiều, cũng không thích ngồi lâu; uống nước xong, rủ Đại Ngọc đi ra.” 

My translation of the Vietnamese text: 

“Baochai knows Miaoyu is eccentric so she doesn’t want to talk much, and doesn’t want to stay long; after drinking the tea, signals to Daiyu that they leave.” 

See the difference? So now I don’t know which of them dislikes Diệu Ngọc (Miaoyu/ Adamantina).  

Hong lou meng: chapters 49-51, newcomers, linked verse, girls vs women vs men

1/ Chapter 49 introduces several characters at once, whom I can’t fit in my family tree, so I have to write them down: 

- Hình Tụ Yên (Xing Xiuyan), niece of Hình phu nhân (Lady Xing). 

- Vương Nhân (Wang Ren), brother of Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng). 

- Lý Văn (Li Wen) and Lý Ỷ (Li Qi), cousins of Lý Hoàn (Li Wan). 

- Tiết Khoa (Xue Ke) and Tiết Bảo Cầm (Xue Baoqin), cousins of Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan) and Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai). Tiết Bảo Cầm (Xue Baoqin) is taken as goddaughter to Vương phu nhân (Lady Wang). 

We know Hình phu nhân (Lady Xing) isn’t kind, so she hands her niece over to Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), who doesn’t want responsibility and lets Hình Tụ Yên (Xing Xiuyan) live with Giả Nghênh Xuân (Jia Yingchun), daughter of Giả Xá (Jia She) and a concubine. 

This means that there are now 13 people in the garden—Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu) and 12 girls. They should not be confused with Kim lăng thập nhị thoa (the 12 beauties of Jinling) however: none of the newcomers are part of the 12 beauties. 

  

2/ I’ve been enjoying Hong lou meng a lot more than I did at the beginning, and do think it’s a great novel, but still don’t like the laundry list kind of descriptions. When Cao Xueqin describes what a character is wearing, we get a list of clothing items and material and some accessories but don’t quite see what the character looks like. Cao Xueqin doesn’t convey the whole look and the impression on other characters, and when he describes a character’s physical appearance, he usually uses conventions. To someone mostly raised on 19th century British, Russian, and American novels like me, this is a bit irritating. 

The strengths of the novel are the characterisation, the dialogue, the supernatural elements and philosophical ideas, and Cao Xueqin’s humanity. 

3/ Chapter 50 has a fascinating scene of a linked verse game. At the beginning, after Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) leaves, there are 13 people participating including Hương Lăng (Caltrop), but it quickly turns into a very competitive game between 3 girls, or rather, it’s Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) and Bảo Cầm (Baoqin) against Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun).

Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), the only guy, always comes last.  

My girl Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) is the star in this scene, overshadowing everyone else. In a way, she’s the star of the whole chapter, at least to me, because her strong personality comes out in the way she dresses like a boy and later in the deer-eating scene. 

At the end of the chapter, the girls have a riddle game, and again the ones who stand out are Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) and the new girl Tiết Bảo Cầm (Xue Baoqin), and to some extent, Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu). Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is rather overshadowed, and then in chapter 51, both Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) and Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) tell her off for being stuffy. 

4/ Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) says she doesn’t like Diệu Ngọc (Miaoyu/ Adamantina). Neither does Bảo Thoa (Baochai). So far she hasn’t appeared very much. Wikipedia says she has an obsession with cleanliness but it doesn’t seem correct—in the one scene that she has appeared in earlier, she seems less obsessed with cleanliness and more arrogant and snobbish, and prejudiced against Già Lưu (Grannie Liu) because she’s poor. As a nun even with her hair intact, she doesn’t quite behave like a nun. 

5/ In chapter 51, Tiết Bảo Cầm (Xue Baoqin) creates 10 riddles about something in 10 places she has been to. She has been to northern Vietnam! 

One thing is odd, however: her second riddle is named after Giao Chỉ (Jiaozhi), which wikipedia says “was the Chinese name for various provinces, commanderies, prefectures, and counties in northern Vietnam from the era of the Hùng kings to the middle of the Third Chinese domination of Vietnam (c. 7th–10th centuries) and again during the Fourth Chinese domination (1407–1427)”.

The weird part is that David Hawkes translates the name of the riddle as Hanoi. 

6/ As I’ve now read about 50 chapters, I suppose it’s fair to make some generalisations about Hong lou meng: most of the warmth of the novel is in the scenes of the girls in the family with or without Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), and the scenes of the young female servants—there may be teasing and joking around, there may be some mockery and sarcasm, but it’s all innocent and harmless and these scenes still have fun and warmth and a sense of friendship. In the scenes of the adults, there are more negative stuff like flattery, hypocrisy, feigned humility, jealousy, anger, deceit, malice, cruelty, and so on.

Just look at the way Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) and Tương Vân (Xiangyun) talk to each other, or the way Tập Nhân (Aroma) and Bình Nhi (Patience) and Uyên Ương (Faithful) joke around—it’s all innocent. Now compare it to the way Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) talks to Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) or Vưu Thị (You Shi) around the time of the birthday party—they may laugh but there is no warmth. Now if you look at the scenes where Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) jokes with Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) at family gatherings, on the surface there appears to be warmth because all the family members laugh together, but there is no real warmth—she jokes in order to flatter, to distract or to soothe the grandmother, or to get away with something. The one thing I like is that she can slightly insult the grandmother or point things out that she wouldn’t be able to say without a joking tone and without her charisma. 

With boys, it depends. There is warmth in the scenes of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Tần Chung (Qin Zhong). But the majority of the boys and men in Hong lou meng are not exactly lovely.  

For instance, look at Giả Hoàn (Jia Huan), the black sheep, the one nobody likes. Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) always sees herself as an outsider, but the true outsider is Giả Hoàn (Jia Huan), who is not part of anything, not welcome to anything. He is full of envy and hatred.

Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan) is ignorant, selfish, violent, and used to getting away with anything because he’s rich and part of the Tiết (Xue) family—he beats a man to death over a slave girl and grooms young boys for sex. 

The adult men of the Giả (Jia) family aren’t much better either: Giả Chính (Jia Zheng) is short-tempered, and distant and ineffectual as a father; Giả Xá (Jia She) and his son Giả Liễn (Jia Lian) are the type that can’t keep it in their pants but Giả Xá (Jia She) is also violent; Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) and his son Giả Dung (Jia Rong) seem to be similar in their horniness, and Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) is said to have an affair with his daughter-in-law, etc. 

Cao Xueqin and Murasaki Shikibu are not that different in their view of men. Much of The Tale of Genji is about male entitlement—just look at Genji, To no Chujo, Yugiri, Kashiwagi, Kaoru, Niou, etc. Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) as a kid says girls are made of water, boys are made of dirt, girls are pure and boys are dirty; I don’t know if Cao Xueqin shares the sentiment but he seems to prefer the female sex. 

Another thing I’ve noticed though, is that the girls are all much nicer than the married women. Just look at Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu), Vương phu nhân (Lady Wang), Tiết Di Ma (Xue Yima/ Aunt Xue), Hình phu nhân (Lady Xing), Triệu Di Nương (concubine Zhao), Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng)…They all have negative traits and tend to be unperceptive, cruel, malicious, selfish… in varying degrees. Even Vương phu nhân (Lady Wang), who normally seems like a kind woman, doesn’t seem so in her treatment of Kim Xuyến (Golden).  

The only exception is Lý Hoàn (Li Wan), but she is a widow and I’m under the impression that she wasn’t married very long. 

7/ One thing I’ve learnt about Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) from chapter 51 is that he’s not ignorant about medicine but he doesn’t understand money. Without Tập Nhân (Aroma), he is helpless. 

Hong lou meng: chapters 45-48, horny men, Chinese culture and poetry

1/ I like that the widow Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) is raised to be a traditional woman in Chinese society, to have a very limited education and to know her place, but she’s not depicted as all lovely, passive, and meek. The stuff she says to Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) in chapter 45 are delicious. 

2/ I’ve come across a few articles on the internet, by Chinese people or Westerners, saying that Westerners (should) read Hong lou meng to understand China and the Chinese—what they don’t say is that Hong lou meng depicts and exposes some rather ugly aspects of Chinese culture and society in the 18th century. In the previous blog post, I noted the treatment of the servants at the birthday party. Chapter 45 has a scene where a female servant kowtows to her mistress Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) for giving her husband Chu Thụy (Zhou Rui) 40 strokes by the heavy bamboo instead of firing him. Chapter 48 shows the powerlessness of normal people when facing a corrupted government official like Giả Vũ Thôn (Jia Yucun). 

3/ After showing how shitty it is to be a servant in 18th century China, Cao Xueqin goes on, in these chapters, to depict how much shittier to be a good-looking female servant, because if you are, like Uyên Ương (Yuanyang/ Faithful), some animal of a master like Giả Xá (Jia She) may want you as a concubine or a chamber-wife. Cao Xueqin lets us see that at least there’s still the matriarch of the house and there’s nothing Giả Xá (Jia She) can do while his mother Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) is there, so that’s the good thing about hierarchy and respect for elders, but Cao also hints at the same time that Uyên Ương (Faithful) is only safe while Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) is alive.

I like that we have seen Uyên Ương (Faithful) before, playing a prank on the old countrywoman and making fun of her, and now we see her better—the other servants are not all lovely and perfect and full of goodness like Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma), Tình Văn (Qingwen/ Skybright) for example can be jealous and sarcastic, and Uyên Ương (Faithful) can be razor-sharp when she loses her temper. 

4/ It’s funny how similar Giả Xá (Jia She) and Giả Liễn (Jia Lian) are. Like father, like son. But if Giả Liễn (Jia Lian) is married to a lion named Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), his mother Hình phu nhân (Lady Wing) is rather soft on her husband, or perhaps rather scared of him, and Giả Xá (Jia She) can do whatever he wants. 

Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu) is different from his father Giả Chính (Jia Zheng) however. He is more sensitive and perceptive, and to his father’s disappointment, has no interest in chasing name and reputation. His sensitivity makes me think of Genji. 

5/ Chapter 47 brings schadenfreude to anyone who dislikes Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan). Everyone, I guess. 

Interestingly, the incident with Liễu Tương Liên (Liu Xianglian) is set up in a way that it makes me think of some previous incidents: 

- The competition between Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan) himself with another man at the beginning of the novel over Chân Anh Liên (Zhen Yinglian), who is now Hương Lăng (Xiangling/ Caltrop). Note too that the avenger is Liễu Tương Liên (Liu Xianglian), sharing the same name Liên (莲 Lian) with the girl. 

- The story about Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) and Giả Thụy (Jia Rui). Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) uses brains and manipulation, Liễu Tương Liên (Liu Xianglian) manipulates then uses force.

- Giả Liễn’s (Jia Lian) affair and Giả Xá’s (Jia She) attempt to get a chamber-wife. The first one gets interrupted, the second one doesn’t get what he wants, and the third one, well… 

Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai) is smarter and has more sense than her mother. We can see that she may not be warm or passionate but isn’t a cold, heartless bitch, and she knows her brother is wrong.  

6/ One of the things that rather bug me about Hong lou meng is that generally I don’t know how old the characters are. In these chapters, I believe that Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu) is about 14 according to the East Asian age reckoning, Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu) is about the same, Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai) is about 15, and Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) is not yet 75, but what about everyone else? 

So in an early chapter I saw Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) yell at his son Giả Dung (Jia Rong) and weirdly tell a servant to spit in his face, and now Giả Xá (Jia She) beats the shit out of his son Giả Liễn (Jia Lian), and my thoughts both times are “but how old is the son???”. 

7/ Like The Tale of Genji painting a vivid picture of the Heian court and describing many aspects of Japanese culture in the 10th century, Hong lou meng depicts many aspects of Chinese culture at the time such as festivities, funeral rites, cuisine, drinking games, card games, music, poetry, classic literature, painting, architecture, gardening, fashion, mythology, Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, and so on. 

Chapter 48 is about Chinese poetry—Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) teaches Hương Lăng (Caltrop), Cao Xueqin teaches Chinese readers. 

To learn Chinese poetry, Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) says, one must first read Vương Ma Cật or Vương Duy (Wang Wei), Đỗ Phủ (Du Fu), and Lý Bạch (Li Bai), before reading others. Guess what, nobody says old texts are irrelevant and should be replaced with contemporary works. 

8/ In chapter 48, Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) are again contrasted, in the way they behave towards Hương Lăng (Caltrop) when she wishes to learn to compose poetry—Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is Sense, thinking that the girl doesn’t need poetry; Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is Sensibility, teaching her how to read and how to write poetry because why not. They act according to their essence.  

Hong lou meng: chapters 39-44, Jia Mu, gender, the lower classes, jealousy

 1/ There are some readers out there who love Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), though I’m not sure why. So far she has played a terrible joke on Giả Thụy (Jia Rui), which humiliates him and damages his health and contributes to his death; she has indirectly caused the deaths of 2 other people without feeling any guilt, and had a female servant whipped 20 times merely for arriving late. In chapter 39, it turns out that she delays paying salaries to the servants because she puts them out on loan at high interest—not her own money, but the money to be paid to the servants. In chapter 40, she makes fun of an old and poor woman. In chapter 44, she beats up some servants, including 2 children. 

Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) may be funny and fascinating and a good talker, but she is cruel and ruthless, she is the despicable type who flatters her superiors and steps on her inferiors. 

In terms of characterisation, this is one of Cao Xueqin’s most superb creations—I can see her right before me, she’s a type I absolutely loathe and despise.  

2/ In these chapters, Cao Xueqin brings back the old countrywoman Già Lưu (Grannie Liu), so readers can see the Giả (Jia) family and the mansions through the eyes of an outsider, a poor woman. We can also see the differences between the 2 old women—they are roughly the same age but Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) lives in riches and has no worries, whereas Già Lưu (Grannie Liu) at her age has to travel some distance and flatter a rich family in order to bring some stuff back to her own family. 

On the one hand, Cao Xueqin depicts the rich, privileged life of the Giả (Jia) family, their extravagance and their wasteful habits, their condescension and disdain and their ridicule of the poor woman, who is 75 and actually older than the matriarch of the house. On the other hand, he depicts the old woman as servile and grovelling and dishonest and base. 

3/ It becomes increasingly clear that Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu), the matriarch of the house, is old but isn’t very wise. She falls for Vương Hy Phượng’s (Wang Xifeng) charisma and lets her get away with anything; she spoils Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and interferes with his parents’ discipline (I’m not talking about the beating); she has favourites and tends to be partial, and among the younger girls, her favourite is the proper but cold and occasionally malicious Bảo Thoa (Baochai). Just look at her reaction when Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) and Uyên Ương (Yuanyang/ Faithful) play a prank on Già Lưu (Grannie Liu). As the matriarch, she is seen as loving and kind, but she is emotionally weak, and this is a sign that she would let things go wrong in the family.  

4/ I note that Già Lưu (Grannie Liu) sees a room full of books and assumes it to be a reading room of some boy, but it turns out to be Đại Ngọc’s (Daiyu) room; later she mistakenly thinks a beautiful room belongs to some girl, but it is actually Bảo Ngọc’s (Baoyu) bedroom. 

5/ Look at the advice Bảo Thoa (Baochai) gives Đại Ngọc (Daiyu): 

“‘So, you see, in the case of us girls it would probably be better for us if we never learned to read in the first place. Even boys, if they gain no understanding from their reading, would do better not to read at all; and if that is true of boys, it certainly holds good for girls like you and me. The little poetry-writing and calligraphy we indulge in is not really our proper business. […] As for girls like you and me: spinning and sewing are our proper business. What do we need to be able to read for? But since we can read, let us confine ourselves to good, improving books; let us avoid like the plague those pernicious works of fiction, which so undermine the character that in the end it is past reclaiming.’” (Ch.42) 

“Those pernicious works of fiction” here refer to Mẫu đơn đình (The Peony Pavilion, or translated by Hawkes as The Return of the Soul) and Tây sương ký (Romance of the Western Chamber, or translated by Hawkes as The Western Chamber), which Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) innocently quotes at the drinking game, in front of everybody. 

Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is insufferably conventional.  

6/ Compared to other girls, Giả Tích Xuân (Jia Xichun) isn’t good at writing poetry but she’s a gifted painter. Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) therefore “commissions” her to paint the garden to give the poor woman. 

However, Cao Xueqin writes a scene in chapter 42 and makes it all about Bảo Thoa (Baochai)—a scene that shows her knowledge and understanding of painting. To me, she comes across as condescending at the same time, giving advice to everybody, from Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) to Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) and now Tích Xuân (Xichun).   

7/ In chapter 43, at a whim the old woman, I mean Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu), decides to hold a birthday party for Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) and wants everyone to contribute, including the servants. Something stood out for me. 

“‘The girls’ contribution will be only for form’s sake, any-way,’ said Grandmother Jia in reference to the row of figures sitting silently behind her on the kang. ‘I should think about the equivalent of a month’s allowance would be the right amount.’”

The allowance would be the salary, so she wants the servant to work that month for free to contribute to a mistress’s birthday party! Even though they would also have to work extra to prepare, and serve at the party. I’m sorry but what the fuck? 

And because they are wasteful, Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) wants to hire new singers even though they have a dozen singers living on the property. 

Luckily, the person holding the party is not her but Vưu Thị (You Shi), wife of Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) and mother of Giả Dung (Jia Rong), so she secretly returns the money to the servants. She also sees and points out Vương Hy Phượng’s (Wang Xifeng) tightfistedness and insincerity. 

8/ Chapter 44 has a scene that has a term in Vietnamese but no equivalent in English: the term is “đánh ghen”—“đánh” means “to beat up”, “ghen” means “jealous” or “jealousy”. 

In Vietnam or China, a wife who discovers that her husband is cheating would beat up the mistress, not the husband. That is “đánh ghen”. Somehow a few Vietnamese websites I’ve found translate the term incorrectly as “making a scene of jealousy”, but it’s not just making a scene—it usually involves hitting, slapping, pulling hair, undressing and humiliating in public, and so on and so forth. Google the phrase and you’ll see plenty of images.

Giả Liễn (Jia Lian) is a type I’ve encountered before—a man who normally doesn’t dare to say anything to his wife but has affairs and talks shit about her behind her back. In this scene, I only feel sorry for Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience), who does nothing wrong but gets dragged into it, and the 2 child servants that Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) slaps several times. 

9/ As a writer, Cao Xueqin doesn’t moralise, but we can tell that he has lots of sympathy for unfortunate and defenceless characters: orphans like Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu) and Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun); widows like Lý Hoàn (Li Wan), wife of Giả Châu (Jia Zhou); servants like Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma), Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience), and Kim Xuyến (Jinchuan/ Golden). 

Cao Xueqin tends to show his sympathy through the main character Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)—in chapter 19, we get to know Tập Nhân’s (Aroma) backstory; now in chapter 44, we get to know Bình Nhi (Patience) more deeply. Tập Nhân (Aroma) at least serves Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), who is weird but sensitive, and she is appreciated by his mother Vương phu nhân (Lady Wang). Bình Nhi (Patience) has to “steer an even course between Jia Lian’s boorishness on the one hand and Xi-feng’s vindictiveness on the other” (ch.44). 

In Hong lou meng, some of the most likable characters are servants. 

However, that doesn’t mean that the servants and the other underdogs are full of goodness—Tập Nhân (Aroma) and Bình Nhi (Patience) are multi-faceted like anyone else, and both are excellent “workers” but their personalities and ways of working are different. 

It also doesn’t mean that Cao Xueqin portrays all the people of the lower classes in a positive light. Già Lưu (Grannie Liu) is a counter-example; Bão Nhị (Bao Er), the husband of the woman involved with Giả Liễn (Jia Lian), is another; and there are also plenty of characters of the lower class who are portrayed as servile, dishonest, and despicable. 

Hong lou meng has about 500 characters, and they are all distinct. 

10/ The final bit of chapter 44 says a lot about the character of Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), Giả Liễn (Jia Lian), and Bão Nhị (Bao Er). 

Hong lou meng: chapters 35-38, fate, reflection, poetry club

 1/ In chapter 36, there’s a scene where Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) has to report to Vương phu nhân (Lady Wang) about salaries and allowances, and it becomes obvious that among the servants there are different ranks and levels.  

One of the main strengths of Hong lou meng is that Cao Xueqin can see and depict people of different classes in society. Readers who complain about servants’ invisibility in, say, Jane Austen’s novels would be glad to see lots of servants in this novel, who don’t get any less attention from the author. Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma) has a rather significant role in the Giả (Jia) family and in the story, and on a personal note, is also more likable than most of the mistresses. 

I once came across a Vietnamese article about, if the Giả (Jia) family could be compared to a large company, what lessons could be learnt from the 2 ideal workers Tâp Nhân (Aroma) and Bình Nhi (Ping’er/ Patience). 

2/ This scene reminds me, however, that Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) doesn’t follow the advice from the ghost of Tần Khả Khanh (Qin Keqing) in a dream. 

3/ In chapter 36, before Bảo Thoa (Baochai), Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) suddenly screams while having a dream:  

“‘Why should I believe what those old monks and Taoists say? I don’t believe in the marriage of gold and jade. I believe in the marriage of stone and flower.’” 

The relationship between Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is “kim ngọc lương duyên”—he’s born with a jade in his mouth and she’s had a gold chain since childhood and they’re meant to be together in this life. 

The relationship between Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is “mộc thạch tiền minh”—before this life, he was a sentient stone left over by Nữ Oa (Nu-wa) and she was a fairy flower called cây Giáng Châu (Fairy Crimson Pearl). That is the frame story of chapter 1—in previous life, he watered and gave life to the flower, so in this life she pays it back with tears (which is why she now cries all the time).  

These mythological elements add another layer to the novel and elevate it to another level. 

4/ Look at this line: 

“‘…What you have to remember is that Emperors hold their power from Heaven, and it’s unthinkable that Heaven should lay the huge responsibility of empire on any but the worthiest shoulders…’” (Ch.36) 

I know it’s a cultural thing and we’re talking about 18th century China here, but I still find that line irritating. 

5/ There’s a very interesting moment in this chapter. 

Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) talks to Tập Nhân (Aroma) and says some nonsense about death. Then he says: 

“‘Now my idea of a glorious death would be to die now, while you are all around me; then your tears could combine to make a great river that my corpse could float away on, far, far away to some remote place that no bird has ever flown to, and gently decompose there until the wind had picked my bones clean, and after that never, never to be reborn again as a human being – that would be a really good death.’” (ibid.)  

But then later, he comes to see a performer named Linh Quan (Charmante in David Hawkes’s version) and watches a conversation between her and Giả Tường (Jia Qiang). There isn’t much to that scene, but it’s an important moment for Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)—for a moment, he gets drawn out of himself and sees something beyond himself, as he realises that Linh Quan (Charmante) loves Giả Tường (Jia Qiang). 

“It was a reflective, self-critical Bao-yu who made his way back to Green Delights, so bemused that he scarcely noticed where he was going. When he arrived, Dai-yu and Aroma were sitting in conversation together. He looked at Aroma and sighed heavily.

‘What I told you the other night was wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m not surprised that Father tells me I have a “small capacity but a great self-conceit”. I mean, that stuff about all of you making a river of tears for me when I die: I realize now that it’s not possible. I realize now that we each have our own allotted share of tears and must be content with what we’ve got.’” (ibid.) 

That is interesting. 

6/ In chapter 37, Giả Thám Xuân (Jia Tanchun) creates a poetry club and each member gets a name, so I have to keep a list. 

Lý Hoàn (Li Wan)=> Đạo hương lão nông  

Thám Xuân (Tanchun)=> Tiêu hạ khách  

Đại Ngọc (Daiyu)=> Tiêu tương phi tử

Bảo Thoa (Baochai)=> Hành vu quân 

Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)=> Di hồng công tử 

Nghênh Xuân (Yingchun)=> Lăng Châu 

Tích Xuân (Xichun)=> Ngẫu Tạ 

Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun)=> Chẩm Hà cựu hữu 

7/ There isn’t much I can say about the poems because the Vietnamese translations aren’t always very good, and I think the poems by David Hawkes are a bit loose. My impression is that in the first set about hoa hải đường (crab flower in Hawkes’s translation), the poems by Thám Xuân (Tanchun), Bảo Thoa (Baochai), and Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) are roughly the same, only the one by Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is different and appears original. I’m not sure why Lý Hoàn (Li Wan) thinks the one by Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is better—are we meant to agree? Are we meant to think that Cao Xueqin thinks the same? 

The poems that Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) makes the next day also stand out. 

In the last scene of the chapter, when Tương Vân (Xiangyun) and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) are discussing subjects for the new set of poems, surrounding chrysanthemums, Cao Xueqin clearly makes this scene about Bảo Thoa (Baochai), about her intelligence and poetic talents. She dislikes clichés and the shackle of “an arbitrary rhyme-scheme” and seems to like to have freedom in poetry. But then she adds: 

“‘… But what am I saying all this for? Spinning and sewing is the proper occupation for girls like us. Any time we have left over from that should be spent in reading a few pages of some improving book – not on this sort of thing!’” (Ch.37) 

Freedom in poetry is one thing, in real life she is conventional—a perfect woman according to Confucian ideals. 

8/ Cao Xueqin may not write about characters’ thoughts the way Western novelists do, but he has another tool—Hong lou meng is full of poetry and the poems say something about their authors. This can be seen very clearly in the second set of poems, about chrysanthemums.

There isn’t much to say about the poems by Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), as usual—Cao Xueqin gives the poetic talents to his female characters. The one thing that I find amusing is that one of the titles he picks is “Planting the chrysanthemums” and his poem has the image of watering the flowers, which is reminiscent of the stone-flower story.

The poems by Bảo Thoa (Baochai) are all right but bland, as she is. Here’s an example. 

“PAINTING THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

The brush that praised them, eager for more tasks,

Would paint them now – for painting’s no great cost

When cunning black-ink blots the flowers’ leaves make,

And white the petals, silvered o’er with frost.

Fresh scents of autumn from the paper rise,

And shapes unmoving by the wind are tossed.

No need at Double Ninth live flowers to pluck:

These living seem, upon a fine screen stuck!” (Ch.38) 

Compare that to the sensitive and melancholic poems by Đại Ngọc (Daiyu). 

“QUESTIONING THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

Since none else autumn’s mystery can explain,

I come with murmured questions to your gate:

Who, world-disdainer, shares your hiding-place?

Of all the flowers why do yours bloom so late?

The garden silent lies in frosty dew;

The geese return; the cricket mourns his fate.

Let not speech from your silent world be banned:

Converse with me, since me you understand!” (ibid.) 

Or: 

“THE DREAM OF THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

Light-headed in my autumn bed I lie

And seem to chase the moon across the sky.

Well, if immortal, I’ll go seek old Tao,

Not imitate Zhuang’s flittering butterfly!

Following the wild goose, into sleep I slid;

From which now, startled by the cricket’s cry,

Midst cold and fog and dying leaves I wake,

With no one by to tell of my heart’s ache.” (ibid.)

Contrast that with the last poem by Thám Xuân (Tanchun): 

“THE DEATH OF THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

The feasting over and the first snow fallen,

The flowers frost-stricken lie or sideways lean,

Their perfume lingering, but their gold hue dimmed

And few poor, tattered leaves bereft of green.

Now under moonlit bench the cricket shrills,

And weary goose-files in the cold sky are seen.

Yet of your passing let me not complain:

Next autumn equinox we’ll meet again!” (ibid.) 

I mean, if you imagine a poem by Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) about the death of chrysanthemums, you’ll see the difference—it would obviously be gloomier. Well, we already have a scene of her in chapter 27, crying and reciting a poem about the dead flowers. Thám Xuân (Tanchun) seems to have a more accepting, serene outlook. 

I also like the poems by Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun), so here are all of them: 

“ADMIRING THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

Transplanted treasures, dear to me as gold –

Both the pale clumps and those of darker hue!

Bare-headed by your wintry bed I sit

And, musing, hug my knees and sing to you.

None more than you the villain world disdains;

None understands your proud heart as I do.

The precious hours of autumn I’ll not waste,

But bide with you and savour their full taste.” (ibid.)

“ARRANGING THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

What greater pleasure than the lute to strum

Or sip wine by your delicate display?

To hold the garden’s fragrance in one vase,

And see all autumn in a single spray?

On frosty nights I’ll dream you back again,

Brave in your garden bed at close of day.

Since with your shy disdain I sympathize,

’Tis you, not summer’s gaudy blooms I prize.” (ibid.)

“THE SHADOW OF THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS

The autumn moonlight through the garden steals,

Filtered in patches variously bright.

Flowers by the house as silhouettes appear;

Flowers by the fence are flecked with coins of light.

In the flowers’ wintry scent their souls reside,

Not in those frost-forms, than a dream more slight.

Even the gross vandal, squinting through drunken eyes,

Can, by their scents, the crushed flowers recognize.” (ibid.)

(All of these poems come from the David Hawkes translation). 

Đại Ngọc’s (Daiyu) poems may be better and deeper, but personally I think the ones by Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) have more personality. 

9/ After the bland poems about chrysanthemums, Bảo Thoa (Baochai) writes a poem about crabs: 

“With winecups in hand, as the autumn day ends,

And with watering mouths, we await our small friends.

A straightforward breed you are certainly not,

And the goodness inside you has all gone to pot 

For your cold humours, ginger; to cut out your smell

We’ve got wine and chrysanthemum petals as well.

As you hiss in your pot, crabs, d’ye look back with pain

On that calm moonlit cove and the fields of fat grain?” (ibid.)

(This is David Hawkes’s translation, which for some reason is extremely different from the version in the Vietnamese text). 

Her harshness is coming out here.  

Hong lou meng: chapters 31-34, Xiangyun, Baochai, Daiyu, Skybright

1/ Legend is that if you mention Hong lou meng (Dream of the Red Chamber/ Dream of Red Mansions/ The Story of the Stone), you would probably be asked whether you’re team Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu) or team Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai).

It’s too early to say but it’s possible I’m going to be that kind of annoying person who, when asked that question, would say Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) instead. 

Like Đại Ngọc (Daiyu), she’s an orphan and has to be dependent on her relatives, and in fact, is forced to do embroidery and needlework into the night, but unlike the emo girl, she is cheerful and open-hearted and isn’t self-pitying. I also like that she’s forthright and direct, while Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is always hinting or mocking or crying or giving Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) the silence treatment or threatening to die. 

The question is, are we really meant to like Đại Ngọc (Daiyu)? In chapter 32, we can see that Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) and even Tập Nhân (Xiren/ Aroma) think she is temperamental and difficult, and prefer Bảo Thoa (Baochai). She also has a temper—so far she has cut up a bag she made for Bảo Ngọc (Baochai), cut to pieces the cord that he used to wear his jade, and even destroyed a fan that she thought was made by some random girl but which was actually made by Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun)! 

Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) puts up with that but verbally abuses his servant Tình Văn (Qingwen/ Skybright) for accidentally breaking a fan in chapter 31. 

2/ One Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is bad enough—from about chapter 31, I’m starting to see Tình Văn (Skybright) as mirroring her. 

Đây là bài viết tiếng Việt về Hồng lâu mộng—Đại Ngọc và Tình Văn tuy 2 mà 1: 

http://www.jennyartblog.com/2017/04/ai-ngoc-tinh-van-tuy-hai-ma-mot.html 

Tình Văn (Skybright) also likes making snide remarks in front of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu)—she resents the other servants Tập Nhân (Aroma) and Xạ Nguyệt (Musk) the same way Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is jealous of Bảo Thoa (Baochai) and Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun). 

3/ The scene of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) turning dumb and pouring his heart out to the wrong person in chapter 32 is quite ridiculous, I think. Do people do that?

4/ I’ve concluded that I don’t like Tiết Bảo Thoa (Xue Baochai) either. 

I’ve been told that the 2 main female characters of Hong lou meng represent 2 types of women, and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is an image of common sense and pragmatism, and she is in many ways a perfect woman according to Confucian ideals but also too perfect and rather passionless. Is she Sense, and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) Sensibility? 

My impression before these chapters was that she didn’t have much of a personality—compared to some other female characters, such as Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), she rather pales in comparison and doesn’t really look like she’s part of the main trio of the novel (which I had always known before picking it up). 

In chapter 30, there’s a scene where the thoughtless Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) teasingly compares her to Dương quý phi (Yang Guifei) and she says something sarcastic back. But that’s not enough—she takes it out on a servant who gets on her nerves at that wrong moment. Then this happens: 

“Bao-yu’s rudeness to Bao-chai had given Dai-yu secret satisfaction. When Prettikins came in looking for her fan, she had been on the point of adding some facetiousness of her own at Bao-chai’s expense; but Bao-chai’s brief explosion caused her to drop the prepared witticism and ask instead what play the two acts were from that Bao-chai said she had just been watching.

Bao-chai had observed the smirk on Dai-yu’s face and knew very well that Bao-yu’s rudeness must have pleased her. The smiling answer she gave to Dai-yu’s question was therefore not without a touch of malice.” (Ch.30) 

You have to read the book to know what she says here, but here’s the reaction: 

“Her words touched Bao-yu and Dai-yu on a sensitive spot, and by the time she had finished, they were both blushing hotly with embarrassment.” (ibid.) 

Her personality comes out here—normally she isn’t temperamental and doesn’t hold a grudge, but she can be very sharp and sarcastic when she has to. 

However, the unpleasant side of her character is revealed a few chapters later, when she hears about Kim Xuyến’s (Jinchuan/ Golden) suicide and tries to console Vương phu nhân (lady Wang): 

“‘It’s only natural that a kind person like you should see it in that way,’ said Bao-chai, ‘but in my opinion Golden would never have drowned herself in anger. It’s much more likely that she was playing about beside the well and slipped in accidentally. […] There’s no earthly reason why she should have felt angry enough with you to drown herself. If she did, all I can say is that she was a stupid person and not worth feeling sorry for!’

[..] 

‘I’m sure you have no cause, Aunt,’ said Bao-chai, ‘but if you feel very much distressed, I suggest that you simply give her family a little extra for the funeral. In that way you will more than fulfil any moral obligation you may have towards her as a mistress.’” (Ch.32) 

Of course she is consoling her aunt, without knowing the full circumstances of the servant’s dismissal, but isn’t that such a cold, ruthless way of thinking and talking? That is very cold. 

5/ I wonder what Western readers think about the violent beating in chapter 33. 

(There are violent beatings in Dickens but if I remember correctly, they’re not parents beating up their own children to near death, are they?) 

6/ One can say that Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is kind, like she tells Tập Nhân (Aroma) about Sử Tương Vân’s (Shi Xiangyun) circumstances and offers to help with the embroidery, but to me she isn’t especially kind—rather, she acts in a proper way, proper in the Confucian sense. Everything she does is proper and perfect, which is why to almost everybody she appears more likable than Đại Ngọc (Daiyu). Contrast their behaviours when they visit Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) in chapter 34—Bảo Thoa (Baochai) acts in a proper, ladylike way but shows little feeling, whereas Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is the one with feeling. 

However we also see that Bảo Thoa (Baochai) is the pragmatic one because she brings medicine, whereas the crybaby comes empty-handed, does nothing useful, and only sits there crying her heart out, adding more misery to Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu). 

Whatever I say about Hong lou meng, I cannot deny that the characters feel very real and I discuss them as though they exist. 

Hong lou meng: chapters 28-31, feigned humility, proxy novice, melodrama

1/ Chapter 28 funnily has Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) first lusting after a guy named Tưởng Ngọc Hàm (Jiang Yuhan), and then lusting after Bảo Thoa (Baochai).  

2/ One of the irritating things about Hong lou meng is that there are lots of formalities and lots of flatteries. Almost any scene that involves Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng) and someone outside the family has lots of flatteries. A lot of characters in the novel are insincere, dishonest, two-faced, or affected. 

There is also lots of feigned humility.

Look at this conversation earlier in the novel, between Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) and a doctor named Trương tiên sinh (Dr Zhang), who comes to visit the sick Tần Khả Khanh (Qin Keqing): 

“‘Yesterday Mr Feng was telling me about your great learning,’ said Cousin Zhen. ‘I gather that it includes a profound knowledge of medicine. I assure you I was very much impressed.’

‘I am only a very indifferent scholar,’ replied Dr Zhang, ‘and my knowledge is really extremely superficial. However, Mr Feng was telling me yesterday of the courteous and considerate patronage of scholars which is traditional in your family, so when I received your summons I felt unable to refuse. I must insist, though, that I am entirely lacking in real learning and am acutely embarrassed to think that this will all too soon become apparent.’” (Ch.10) 

That’s quite annoying, no? 

In chapter 29, there’s a scene where the Giả (Jia) family meet Trương đạo sĩ (Abbot Zhang), a Taoist who becomes a Taoist on behalf of someone from the family (more on this later). After some chit-chat, the Taoist borrows the precious stone from Giả Bảo Ngọc (Jia Baoyu) to show some people then comes back with the stone and a tray of jewellery—about 40 pieces. 

“‘What have you been up to, you naughty old man?’ she said. ‘Those men are all poor priests – they can’t afford to give things like this away. You really shouldn’t have done this. We can’t possibly accept them.’

‘It was their own idea, I do assure you,’ said the abbot. ‘There was nothing I could do to stop them. If you refuse to take these things, I am afraid you will destroy my credit with these people. They will say that I cannot really have the connection with your honoured family that I have always claimed to have.’

After this Grandmother Jia could no longer decline.” (Ch.29) 

Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) suggests giving them to the poor, so this is the man’s response. 

“‘I’m sure it does our young friend credit, this charitable impulse. However. Although these things are, as I said, of no especial value, they are – what shall I say – objects of virtù, and if you give them to the poor, in the first place the poor won’t have much use for them, and in the second place the objects themselves will get spoiled…’” (ibid.) 

Again, does that kind of language not get on your nerves? 

3/ This is the line in David Hawkes’s text about Trương đạo sĩ (Abbot Zhang): 

“Cousin Zhen was aware that, though Abbot Zhang had started life a poor boy and entered the Taoist church as ‘proxy novice’ of Grandmother Jia’s late husband…” (Ch.29) 

The Vietnamese text adds an explanation that back then rich people/ people with some title couldn’t become a Taoist priest themselves so they got someone else to do so on behalf of them (their proxy) so they could get blessings/ good fortune.  

I’m sorry but that’s the most moronic thing I’ve ever heard. 

4/ In chapter 29, there’s a scene where Giả Trân (Jia Zhen) is mad at his son Giả Dung (Jia Rong) over a trifle, and then tells a servant to spit in his face!? 

5/ Out of the blue we are told that Giả Dung (Jia Rong) has a new wife, Hồ thị (Hu-shi). Where is she from? When did they get married? How long after Tần Khả Khanh’s (Qin Keqing) death? Nobody says.  

6/ Reading Hong lou meng is like watching a long, very long period drama. There must be moments even the most enthusiastic reader thinks to themselves, why can’t Cao Xueqin just summarise it instead of recording the entire conversation? The fight between Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) at the end of chapter 29 and beginning of chapter 30 is especially long and melodramatic. 

Hong lou meng could be a drinking game: take a drink each time Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) fight. By the end, I’d get a liver disease. 

7/ Chapter 31 has an interesting scene where people keep things unsaid and misunderstand each other. There’s also one in chapter 29, before the fight. Hong lou meng should have more of such scenes—more silence, more thoughts, more things kept unsaid. 

The scene is followed by this passage, however: 

“Dai-yu had a natural aversion to gatherings, which she rationalized by saying that since the inevitable consequence of getting together was parting, and since parting made people feel lonely and feeling lonely made them unhappy, ergo it was better for them not to get together in the first place. In the same way she argued that since the flowers, which give us so much pleasure when they open, only cause us a lot of extra sadness when they die, it would be better if they didn’t come out at all.

Bao-yu was just the opposite. He always wanted the party to go on for ever and flowers to be in perpetual bloom…” (Ch.31) 

Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) should learn about mono no aware. I don’t like her way of thinking—her negation of life. 

She’s still a child in these chapters though, so I’m going to pass that off as her being emo. 

8/ In these chapters, we see a bit more of Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun), the favourite grandniece of Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu). She and Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) are second cousins. 

She seems like a fun character. She is a tomboy and likes wearing people’s clothes, and once she wears Bảo Ngọc’s (Baoyu) clothes and gets mistaken for him by the grandmother. While I don’t see a character’s likability or relatability as a criterion of literary merit, I like that Sử Tương Vân (Shi Xiangyun) seems much more likable and doesn’t seem to have the pettiness of Đại Ngọc (Daiyu), who is always mocking somebody. Are we meant to like Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) as people say? I find her insufferable.  

Hong lou meng: chapters 24-27, servants’ names, demons, Daiyu

1/ In chapter 24, 2 new servants are introduced. 

The first one is Uyên Ương (Yuanyang), a servant of Giả Mẫu (Jia Mu) the grandmother. She becomes Faithful in David Hawkes’s translation, but the name means “mandarin duck”, a symbol of fidelity and lifelong affection in Chinese culture (and also in Vietnamese and Japanese cultures).

What Hawkes does with names in Hong lou meng is that he goes for pinyin for all the characters who are not servants (the Yangs’ translation uses the Wade-Giles system instead), and loosely translates names of servants. 

Tập Nhân (Xiren) becomes Aroma but her name doesn’t mean that literally. Her real name is Hoa Trân Châu (I don’t know the pinyin)—Hoa means “flower” and Trân Châu means “pearl”. Because of her last name, Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) gives her a new name, with Tập Nhân (Xiren) meaning “assails men”, because it comes from a line of poetry. Here’s the line in Sino-Vietnamese: 

“Hoa khí tập nhân.” (Ch.3) 

In English: 

“The flowers’ aroma breathes of hotter days.” (Ch.3) 

That’s why her name becomes Aroma in Hawkes’s version. 

Another maid of Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) is Tình Văn (Qingwen). Her name, according to wikipedia, means “sunny multi-coloured clouds”. In Hawkes’s version, she is Skybright. 

It is quite messy so here’s my list of the main servants: 

Tập Nhân (Xiren)= Aroma 

Tình Văn (Qingwen)= Skybright 

Xạ Nguyệt (Sheyue)= Musk 

Tử Quyên (Zijuan)= Nightingale 

Tuyết Nhạn (Xueyan)= Snowgoose 

Bình Nhi (Ping’er)= Patience 

Hương Lăng (Xiangling)= Caltrop

Uyên Ương (Yuanyang)= Faithful

Thu Văn (Qiuwen)= Ripple

Bích Ngân (Bihen)= Emerald 

Dính Yên (Mingyan)= Tealeaf 

The last one is Bảo Ngọc’s (Baoyu) page boy. 

2/ The second servant introduced in chapter 24 is Tiểu Hồng (Xiaohong). There’s an interesting detail that is missing from David Hawkes’s translation as he removes an entire line about her name—her last name is Lâm (Lin) and her first name is Hồng Ngọc (Hongyu), but because the word Ngọc (Yu) in her name would clash with Ngọc in Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu), so she has to change her name into Tiểu Hồng (Xiaohong), which means “little Hong”—“little Red”.  

Her real name means “red jade”. 

It is interesting to note that her name is very similar to another name: Lâm Hồng Ngọc (Lin Hongyu) and Lâm Đại Ngọc (Lin Daiyu). 

Đại Ngọc means “black jade”, the kind of thing women use to draw their eyebrows. 

3/ A few people have said that in The Tale of Genji, there is no evil. There is callousness, aggressiveness, force, kidnap, rape, jealousy, deceit… but no malice, no cruelty, no evil. There is revenge, but it is done by ghosts and spirits, not humans. 

In Hong lou meng, in contrast, there is lots of cruelty and malice, lots of falseness and hypocrisy, lots of jealousy and hate and pettiness. There is lots of pettiness and resentment in it, perhaps more than any other novel I have read, not only between the Giả (Jia) family and other families or between the members and in-laws of the family, but also among the servants. Vú Lý (nanny Li) resents Tập Nhân (Aroma), for instance. Thu Văn (Ripple) and Bích Ngân (Emerald) bully Tiểu Hồng (Crimson) for pouring tea for Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), which she isn’t fit for (as she’s not one of his maids). 

The worst kind of pettiness is of course not between the servants as there isn’t much for them to gain or lose, “the competition” isn’t strong. The worst is between the family members themselves—a society that allows polygamy and has inequality and strict hierarchy naturally creates envy and resentment. 

I don’t think this means that Cao Xueqin has a harsh and negative vision of life. Rather, I think the novel reflects Chinese society—you see this kind of pettiness and malice a lot in Chinese films. 

4/ Chapter 25 has a rather silly scene with the demons possessing Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and Vương Hy Phượng (Wang Xifeng), but the chapter is terrific with the reappearance of the Buddhist monk and Taoist priest that we have seen at the beginning of the novel. It is a marvellous scene, especially with the things they say about happiness and misery in life, and the briefness of life. 

The Vietnamese translation I think is much better than the English translation, not because of any fault of David Hawkes’s but because of the nature of the language. 

Without the supernatural elements and philosophical aspect, chapter 25 would simply be about a concubine harming others out of jealousy, reminiscent of Raise the Red Lantern, but there’s more. Hong lou meng is, as I said before, at its best, its most exhilarating when it moves to the world of dreams, the world of the supernatural. Cao Xueqin’s novel is much more than a novel of manners, or a family novel. 

5/ Cao Xueqin doesn’t refer to passing time in a clear, consistent way as Murasaki Shikibu does in The Tale of Genji, so sometimes he mentions a new season, a festival, or someone’s birthday, but it’s not quite clear how much time passes. We know in chapter 25, however, that 13 years have passed since the monk and the Taoist priest last met the stone, so according to the Chinese age reckoning, Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) should be 14. 

He drinks way too much for a 13-year-old though (I’m switching back to today’s system of age reckoning). What an alcoholic. 

That raises an important question however: how old was he when he first had sex in chapter 6, with Tập Nhân (Aroma)???    

6/ In these chapters we are introduced to Giả Vân (Jia Yun) and Phùng Tử Anh (Feng Ziying). The former is son of the 5th sister (in-law)—it’s not quite clear who that is—but the guy calls Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) uncle, even though he’s about 4 or 5 years older. The latter is a friend of Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan) and Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu). 

I expect both of them to become more important later on, especially between Giả Vân (Jia Yun) and Tiểu Hồng (Crimson). 

The people in this world don’t have much to do so they just play around and then look for people to bang. 

The mention of Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan) reminds me of something else—it’s strange how this guy has beaten a guy to death and paid nothing for it, and everyone in the family still treats him like nothing happened. 

7/ There’s a passage in chapter 27 that I found a bit confusing, in the conversation between Thám Xuân (Tanchun) and Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu). I had to look at the English version to realise that what looked like a mistake was not a mistake—Thám Xuân (Tanchun) talks like dì Triệu (auntie Zhao) is her auntie because she sees herself as daughter of Vương phu nhân (lady Wang) and doesn’t like the pettiness of her mother and her brother Giả Hoàn (Jia Huan). 

8/ There is a moving scene at the end of chapter 27 and beginning of chapter 28, of Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) sobbing among fallen flowers and reciting a poem about flowers and the fragility of life. Already saddened by the misunderstanding about Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu), she looks at the fallen flowers and thinks of her own orphaned lot, and her own death in the future.

This scene shows that Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is not just over-sensitive and touchy over trifles, but she does have sensibility. The scene also truly establishes for the first time that she and Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) are very similar. Imagine someone else encountering her instead, like Tiết Bàn (Xue Pan)! Or Giả Liễn (Jia Lian). 

I should note though, that there’s some slight difference in tone between the Vietnamese text and the English text by David Hawkes. 

For example, in chapter 27, there is a scene where the girls are celebrating the festival and Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) is nowhere to be seen so Bảo Thoa (Baochai) volunteers to go look for her. However, on the way she comes across Bảo Ngọc (Baoyu) and starts thinking, then she changes her mind and goes back without seeing her. This is what she thinks to herself about Đại Ngọc: 

“‘… And Dai-yu, at the best of times, is always so touchy and suspicious.’” 

This is the same line in the Vietnamese text: 

“‘… vả chăng Đại Ngọc tính nết nhỏ nhen, lại hay ghen ghét…’” 

The phrase “tính nết nhỏ nhen” means “petty, narrow-minded, small-minded”; “hay ghen ghét” means “jealous, envious, hateful”. The words here are much stronger, harsher. I don’t know which rendition of this specific line is closer to the original (though I think the 2 translations are based on different versions of Hong lou meng). 

On the way back, Bảo Thoa (Baochai) happens to overhear Tiểu Hồng (Crimson) and a little servant talking about Giả Vân (Jia Yun). As the 2 servants suddenly decide to open the door and Bảo Thoa (Baochai) doesn’t want to have some annoying trouble with them, she decides to create a false scent by pretending that she just saw Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) nearby. Here is what the girls say to themselves after she’s gone. 

“‘If it were Miss Bao that had heard us, I don’t suppose anything would,’ said Crimson, ‘but Miss Lin is so critical and so intolerant. If she heard it and it gets about—oh dear!’” (ibid.) 

This is the same line in the Vietnamese text: 

“‘Cô Bảo nghe thấy chẳng sao, chứ cô Lâm miệng hay xoi bói, bụng hay khe khắt, nghe thấy mà đi nói tung ra thì làm thế nào?’” 

If you think of using Google Translate for this line, forget it. You have to trust me when I say that the Vietnamese line says the same things but has a much more negative tone. The word “critical” is not a very harsh word—it can be a neutral word, and when it’s negative, it’s not as negative in tone as some other words such as “judgmental”, “scathing”, “censorious”, etc. The word “intolerant” can be a stronger word, but “hay khe khắt” in Vietnamese means “harsh, severe, stern” and has a more negative tone. 

Overall I think the Vietnamese text has more tone and voice in dialogue, especially when a character is being sarcastic. However, when we get to that scene at the end of chapter 27, the Vietnamese text didn’t make me like Đại Ngọc (Daiyu) more. Somehow the scene made me think of Kiều coming across the abandoned grave of Đạm Tiên and starting to cry, in Truyện Kiều—which is meant to depict her as sensitive but which makes her appear silly and sentimental. 

The same scene in David Hawkes’s text is much more moving.  

It’s odd.