Xiao Yao Reading the Dream of the Red Chamber

Author: Zhu Jian / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 1999-04-01
Features: Unseen friends, a gift from afar—a new book: The Revelation of the Red Chamber. Mr. Wang Meng's new work. As always, the title is intriguing, inviting eager reading. Five characters connect the grand "Red Chamber" with the Revelation, supposedly written by a saint, prophet, and John the Baptist, which is quite interesting. Upon closer thought, it becomes even more interesting. Before even reading the wonderful text, one's imagination begins to soar. One is the "sudden collapse of a grand mansion," the last generation of feudal aristocracy, trees falling and monkeys scattering. The other is the "Babylonian great city has fallen, fallen," reduced to ashes, the sea turning blood, the world's end approaching. One is "without talent to mend the sky," left only to "wail day and night in shame and regret," yearning for a "white and boundless land, truly clean." The other firmly believes in the coming of Jesus Christ, "seeing a new heaven and a new earth," "no more death, no more sorrow, no more crying, no more pain." One dreams, wandering in the void, seemingly real yet illusory, faint yet present, its message worth savoring and reflecting upon countless times, with endless interest. The other manifests, with divine and demonic intrigue, acting like a play within a play, powerful and overwhelming, leaving no room for doubt, only reverence and prostration. One is Eastern mysticism, embedding "death without regret" in tender affection, subtle and graceful, meaning beyond words. The other is Westernness, revealing sacred power in a strong and robust form, bold and intimidating. And so on. East and West differ greatly, and there are many such examples. But upon deeper reflection, one might catch a thread connecting them, a synchronized heartbeat. For example, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The life was in him, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." If these opening lines of John's Gospel, the author of the Revelation, are inscribed on the title page of Dream of the Red Chamber, is there really any forced connection? For example, "I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end." John, dwelling in the wilderness, living on locusts and honey, enduring great suffering, died at the hands of a woman, sacrificing himself. After half a lifetime of hardship, living in thatched huts and wicker windows, with a clay stove and a rope bed, ten years of painstaking effort left only words dripping with blood—half of Dream of the Red Chamber weeping until its end. If Cao Xueqin heard these words, what would he say? Let's imagine for the village: Would he not say, "The Great Void is the Great Extreme, beginnings and endings are all within it"? The Word existed in the beginning, and the Word dwells in the heart. And all great human minds are. This is what Wang Meng's new book title reveals to me. Compared to the ancient Jin Ping Mei and the modern Waste Land, it may be a small fry, but indeed it belongs to the "language of courtesans." On the bed, the courtesan and the client trade, they must shout like this to reveal their shamelessness, stripped bare. More than one critic pointed out that this passage describing Jia Lian's shamelessness naturally brings to mind Fengjie, who is equally shameless, calling it "describing Jia Lian is also describing Fengjie." Some even said, "The repeated mention of 'Shenggong' and 'Fengjie' also refers to Fengjie." It's unthinkable, lacking in mercy. However, viewing this passage as a "fill-in-the-blanks" for the section "Giving Flowers to the Palace," filling in what was not written, is indeed implied in the text. There is something even greater: Cao Xueqin disdainfully used "sex" to pander to the masses, and this "language of courtesans" can directly connect to chapter 44, "Unexpected Change Brings Fengjie's Jealousy." The ever-present "jealousy jar" Shenggong becomes Bao'er's wife, entering Fengjie's home and sleeping with her. This leads to a great brawl between Fengjie, Ping'er, Bao'er's wife, and Jia Lian. The most important thing is Jia Mu, the old lady of the Jia family, with her reputation as the "Jia family," giving her conclusion on this sudden "romantic storm." She, with decades of experience in managing a family, faces this sudden upheaval without alarm, smiles lightly, and says, "What's the big deal? Children are young, like greedy cats, how can we stop them from being like this? Since childhood, everyone has gone through this." With a few light words, the old lady categorizes "the world" as "greedy cats," including hundreds of characters in the Rong and Ning houses, and even includes herself in the analogy (some critics have long suspected that when the young lady of the Shi family became Jia Mu, she was widowed early and likely had a secret relationship with Zhang Daoshi, the monk of the Qingxu Temple, who was called the "substitute for the Duke of Rongguo by the former emperor and personally named as the 'True Person of the End'"). This "method" is the Jia family's secret formula for sexual morality. Shenggong, the ever-present "jealousy jar," is the human witness, and the embroidered spring bag picked up by the foolish girl is the material evidence. Therefore, describing Jia Lian and Shenggong with the "language of courtesans" and elevating it to a theoretical height by Jia Mu is not only applicable to Fengjie but is a "language" that blackens the entire Jia family, attacking men and women en masse, and operates on the same principle as Liu Xianglian's "Only the stone lions are clean." So, this short passage of "language of courtesans" is a vivid portrayal and a monument to the great "brothel family." A single phrase, "shamelessness exposed," with eyes wide open in grief, conveys how heavy and passionate the emotions are: Who can understand the meaning behind it? My teacher, why are you so foolish? If it's said that there is no historical era to trace back to, why is it so difficult for me to borrow the era of the Han and Tang dynasties now? But I think that all unofficial histories follow the same pattern. If I don't rely on this path, it would be novel and unique, but I only take the substance and reason, so why be so strict about the era and years? From this perspective, Cao Xueqin's "fuzziness" in time is not an impromptu stroke but a deliberate artistic conception. The "Commentary" says, "Cao Weng often uses this kind of method," and he truly understands the heart of Cao Weng. As for the "brilliance" of the "Commentary" in saying, "Writing the chronology this way is also brilliant," it lies in the fact that "writing it this way" can give birth to an endless "limitlessness," placing the "Great Wilderness Mountain and the Unfathomable Cliff," creating the "Great Void Illusion," and expressing the author's "having experienced a dream and writing Dream of the Red Chamber through the legend of the stone." "Transcending the spirit" and "dreams" are extremely important to the aesthetic character of the entire Red Chamber. Cao Weng feared that people would not understand, so he specially stated, "In this chapter, every use of the words 'dream' and 'illusion' is to remind the readers and is also the original intention of this book." The "Commentary" should be an understanding of the "dream" atmosphere of a great book after careful study and contemplation. Understanding and grasping the meaning is not easy for books or people, it requires "artistic cells." Relying solely on "scholarship" often takes one further away. For example, the ambiguity of characters' ages and the confusion of events' chronology in Dream of the Red Chamber have always troubled some redologists, who could not understand and insisted on solving it, but ultimately could not. According to calculations, there are fifty-three "errors" in time in the first eighty chapters, and none in the last forty. So why didn't Gao E correct the "errors" in the first eighty chapters when he revised the entire book? It's hard to say. If we follow Cao Weng's hint and understand that "dream" is "the original intention of the book," and "why be so strict about the era and years," could the fifty-three "errors" be explained in this way? It's better not to claim expertise, but to let you believe what you will. The "Commentary" says, "Writing the chronology this way is also brilliant," for reference only. Last summer, the most sensational news in the "redology" world was the case of the "Cao Xueqin Tombstone" in Zhangjiakou, Tongxian. Until now, the truth and falsehood are still debated. It will probably continue to be debated. What I want to say is that when a major newspaper in Shanghai published this news, I broke out in a cold sweat. I don't know which software of the "Beijing Special Correspondence" media was infected with the "Michelangelo virus," but in bold black letters on white paper, it read: "The tombstone inscribed with 'Cao Gong, styled Xie, named Xueqin' is the world's." The author emphasized that despite the various debates about Cao Xueqin, his "surname Cao, styled Xie, named Xueqin" is universally recognized. Alas! The earth-shattering words made me break out in a cold sweat. Unfortunately, I've forgotten the pronunciation and original meaning of this great "Xie." Knowledge is endless, so I quickly checked the Dictionary. The answer came easily: "Xie, to open; to start." The citation is from Zhuangzi's Know North. Holding the book in my hands, I was taken on a journey, but it led to an unbearable story. In Zhuangzi's unimaginably diverse pages, I read a "small piece of the Red Chamber": Ehe Gan studied with Shennong under the old dragon Jilong. Shennong rested with his back against a chair, closed the door, and fell asleep during the day. Ehe Gan entered through the open door at noon and said, "The old dragon is dead!" Shennong rested with his back against the chair, holding a staff, and stood up suddenly, threw the staff down, and laughed, saying, "Heaven knows my eccentric and negligent ways, so he abandoned me and died. It's over! You have nothing to say in your madness and died!" The following is a philosophical lecture delivered by borrowing the mouth of a person named Yuan Ling to mourn him. I won't go into it. Shennong didn't go tasting herbs here, what was he doing? Unless he's willing to be a foolish bird, it's best not to examine it. Let's just say this Ehe Gan has a refreshing name, and she must be a clear, elegant, and ethereal figure like a goddess. Her relationship with Shennong seems very close. During the day, the male classmates were closing the door to take a nap, and she broke in, shouting and making a scene. Unexpectedly, when Shennong heard that his teacher was dead, he dropped his staff and laughed. Not sad, not grieving, it's truly strange. A few nonsensical words, roughly translated: "Our teacher who embodies the great virtue of nature knows that we, the foolish Shennong, are eccentric and undisciplined, with no talent, so he abandoned us and left. Now it's settled. He didn't expose my past madness before he left, and he's gone forever." The key is the word "madness." Cheng Xuanying explained: "Madness, like the highest words, is not understood by ordinary people, hence the highest words are called madness." So that's it! My heart suddenly felt a sense of sorrow. It seemed that from this vivid scene and the ups and downs of emotions, I read the four blood-stained words, "A wild and absurd tale." The subtext still has, "Teacher is dead, from now on, who knows me, Shennong, but your close friend, dear relative, Ehe Gan?" Who can understand the meaning behind it? It's not right to compare it to anyone in the Red Chamber, it's forced. But reading Zhuangzi and the Red Chamber, perhaps the same method can be used. Since Zhuangzi dreamed of a butterfly and the butterfly dreamed of Zhuangzi, naturally, Zhuangzi can dream of the Red Chamber, and the Red Chamber can dream of Zhuangzi. Thus, these two masters of dreams, Cao and Zhuang, speak in response to each other. Sometimes with elegant and beautiful words, sometimes with boundless and unrestrained words; through the ages, they all regard the pursuit of spiritual transcendence, the soaring of life, and the freedom of the soul as the highest realm of life—natural beauty and beauty in nature. And they know that this good realm is forever unattainable, yet they pursue it endlessly, like the god Kua Fu. Such pursuit, of course, involves dreams, destruction, nothingness, and despair; but also perseverance, hope, joy, and the vibrant vitality of life. To say something foolish: If Zhuangzi, Cao, and the like are all incurable pessimists and nihilists, why do they talk so much and write so much? Heaven and earth are their hearts, and the people are their nourishment. I think they are all ambitious and energetic in expressing themselves, wanting to use their worldview and life philosophy to transform the world and China, to benefit and save the people. Sometimes like the great bell and the great drum, sometimes like silk and bamboo music, the main melody is the sincere voice and the warm sound. Of course, Zhuangzi lacks some mortal smoke and mirrors, and has more of an immortal and Taoist air, often making people wonder if this tune should only be in the sky. Cao, on the other hand, is from all walks of life, widely connects with good people, shares joys and sorrows, and can better enter the hearts of those with mortal bones.—"Xie, to open." By chance, it fits the reasoning. Let this be recorded, and for now, let's not discuss it. I think that Wu Jun's comments on Dream of the Red Chamber in A Brief History of Chinese Fiction should have been read by Wu Jun. It seems not mentioned in his Diary. Anyway, Lu Xun said that "the mist of sorrow covers the entire Hualin, but only Baoyu breathes and understands it." This should be an unalterable argument. Wu Mi, with his unique life experience, may have felt the "mist of sorrow." But his "breathing and understanding" is very different from Jia Baoyu. Because according to Wu Mi's Chronology, quoted as "The Chinese family is a political organization," Jia Baoyu was indeed the only "dissident" in the Jia family. Such a "avant-garde" figure from two centuries ago is too far away from Wu Mi, too far, almost unattainable. Why? Because Chen Yinque truly "read through" Wu Mi. And he understood this Wu Mi better than Wu Mi himself. On April 22, 1930, Wu Mi recorded in his Diary: "Lunched at Ye Jun's place at noon. Chen Yinque joined me. He said that when he first met Wu Mi in the United States, he knew Wu Mi's nature was romantic, but he was constrained by old customs and morals, and his emotions could not be expressed. After a long time, he was on the verge of breaking. It's like a small pot being heated and boiling, opening the lid to let out steam, which is better than letting the pot explode. He said that Wu Mi's recent change in behavior was because he didn't know Wu Mi." In the fifth volume of his Diary, page 61, Chen Yinque's praise and criticism of people are full of poetry. The tragedy of Wu Mi's "poetic paradox" may be slightly understood here.