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Today Jia Baoyu decides to visit Xiren’s house on the spur of the moment. The interaction between Hua Xiren and Jia Baoyu here is very interesting.

My Translation

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Chances are that you’re pretty surprised by the blatant sexuality in Dream of the Red Chamber.

We saw a bit of it in yesterday’s translation post, where Jia Baoyu’s servant Mingyan was caught with a somewhat anonymous girl named Wang’er:

剛到窗前，聽見屋裡一片喘息之聲。寶玉倒唬了一跳，心想：「美人活了不成？」乃大著膽子，舔破窗紙，向內一看。那軸美人卻不曾活，卻是茗煙按著個女孩子，也幹那警幻所訓之事，正在得趣，故此呻吟。

He had just reached the window when he heard heavy breathing coming from the room. “Has the beautiful woman truly come to life?” thought Baoyu in amazement. Baoyu eventually worked up his courage, licked a hole in the paper of the window, and peeked inside.

It turns out that the beauty in the scroll hadn’t come to life. Instead, Baoyu saw Mingyan on top of a girl, doing the thing that the Goddess had taught Baoyu earlier. The two of them were in a deep passionate moment, and they were moaning loudly.

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This isn’t the first example of hanky-panky we’ve seen so far in Dream of the Red Chamber. You might remember this example from the beginning of chapter 6:

襲人本是個聰明女子，年紀又比寶玉大兩歲，近來也漸省人事，今見寶玉如此光景，心中便覺察了一半，不覺把個粉臉羞的飛紅。遂不好再問，仍舊理好衣裳，隨至賈母處來。胡亂吃過晚飯，過這邊來，趁眾奶孃丫鬟不在旁時，另取出一件中衣，與寶玉換上。

寶玉含羞央告道：「好姐姐，千萬別告訴人。」襲人也含著羞悄悄的笑問道：「你為什麼」說到這裡，把眼又往四下裡瞧了瞧，才又問道：「那是那裡流出來的？」寶玉只管紅著臉，不言語，襲人卻只瞅著他笑。遲了一會，寶玉才把夢中之事細說與襲人聽。說到雲雨私情，羞的襲人掩面伏身而笑。寶玉亦素喜襲人柔媚姣俏，遂強拉襲人同領警幻所祕授之事。

Now, Xiren was an intelligent girl to begin with, and was also about two years older than Baoyu. She had recently begun to learn about sexual matters. And so, seeing Baoyu in this state, she guessed what had happened. Instinctively, her cheeks quickly turned red with embarrassment.

And so she thought it would be best not to ask more. Having straightened his clothes properly, she accompanied him to see Grandmother Jia. After he had hurried through his dinner and returned to his room, she waited for a moment when the other maids were not nearby. Then, taking out a fresh pair of underwear, she helped Baoyu change into it.

“Dear sister,” Baoyu said, blushing with shame, “whatever you do, please don’t tell anyone.”

Xiren, also blushing, asked him quietly with a suppressed smile: “Why did you…” At this point, she glanced around cautiously again, and then continued: “Where did that come from?”

Baoyu simply blushed deep red and said nothing. Xiren, however, gazed at him with a smile. After a long pause, Baoyu finally told her the events of his dream in detail.

When Baoyu spoke of the sexual encounter in his dream, Xiren was so overcome with shyness that she covered her face, doubled over, and laughed.

Since Baoyu had always been fond of Xiren for her gentle, charming, and lovely nature, he then insistently shared with Xiren the secret techniques the Goddess taught him.

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And, of course, there are all sorts of direct and frank references to homosexuality in chapter 9:

金榮越發得了意，搖頭咂嘴的，口內還說許多閒話。玉愛偏又聽見，兩個人隔座咕咕唧唧的角起口來。金榮只一口咬定，說：「方才明明的撞見他兩個在後院裡親嘴摸屁股，兩個商議定了，一對一肏，撅草根兒抽長短，誰長誰先幹！」

Jin Rong became more and more pleased with himself. He shook his head, clicked his tongue, and began muttering all sorts of things. Yu’ai, who happened to overhear him, started to argue with him through a series of whispers across the seats.

Jin Rong spoke loudly and confidently. “I just caught them in the courtyard,” he said. “They were kissing and grabbing each other’s bottoms. In fact, they had already agreed, and were getting ready to fuck each other. They were pulling up blades of grass to see whose stalk was longer. The one who got the longer one would go first!”

And I could go on.

The truth is that Dream of the Red Chamber follows the pattern set by 金瓶梅, or The Plum in the Golden Vase, which is clearly the most controversial of the classical Chinese novels. The Plum in the Golden Vase is extremely sexually explicit, so much so that I’m not going to quote any passages here. The Plum in the Golden Vase is also notorious for being likely the most banned book in the history of Chinese literature, despite the obvious fact that there is a lot of literary merit and significance to the book.

The Plum in the Golden Vase is somewhat similar to Fanny Hill, the 18th century British erotic novel that wound up striking down obscenity laws throughout the United States and Europe in the 1960s. See, for example, Memoirs v Massachusetts; my understanding is that Fanny Hill played a similar role in numerous European court cases around the same time.

The problem, of course, is that you can’t discount Fanny Hill or The Plum in the Golden Vase as trash or lacking literary merit merely because of the sexual content. And this is even more true of Dream of the Red Chamber, where the naked sexuality is thankfully an occasional sideshow and not the entire plot of the book.

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Today Jia Baoyu discovers his servant Mingyan in the middle of sexual activity with a girl we haven’t met yet.

My Translation

Baoyu looked around and realized that there was nobody else there. “I remember there being a small study here,” he thought to himself. “I’m pretty sure that there’s a scroll painting of a beautiful woman hanging in that room, one that looks absolutely lifelike. With all the commotion today, I’m sure that the room is empty. The beautiful woman in that painting must be feeling lonely. I ought to pay her a visit to cheer her up.” And so he went over to the room.

He had just reached the window when he heard heavy breathing coming from the room. “Has the beautiful woman truly come to life?” thought Baoyu in amazement. Baoyu eventually worked up his courage, licked a hole in the paper of the window, and peeked inside.

It turns out that the beauty in the scroll hadn’t come to life. Instead, Baoyu saw Mingyan on top of a girl, doing the thing that the Goddess had taught Baoyu earlier. The two of them were in a deep passionate moment, and they were moaning loudly.

Baoyu couldn’t stop himself from yelling. “My God!” he cried out. He kicked the door open, and the two were scared so badly that they were shaking.

When Mingyan saw Baoyu he quickly knelt down and started to beg for mercy.

“it’s the middle of the day!” exclaimed Baoyu. “What are you doing? If Jia Zhen finds out, you’re as good as dead!”

Meanwhile, Baoyu looked at the girl. She was fair and clean, and had something appealing about her. She stood there with her head down, blushing red to her ears, saying nothing.

“Get out of here!” shouted Baoyu, stamping his foot. That snapped her out of her trance, and she ran off as quickly as she could. Baoyu chased after her, calling out, “Don’t be scared! I won’t tell anyone!”

“Geez!” came Mingyan’s frantic voice from behind him. “Now you’ve basically told everybody!”

“How old is she?” asked Baoyu as he turned to Mingyan.

“She’s about sixteen or seventeen” came Mingyan’s reply.

“You didn’t even ask her age before doing this?” asked Baoyu incredulously. “You just went straight into the act! She sure wasted her time getting to know you! Poor thing, poor thing!” He turned and asked Mingyan another question. “What’s her name?”

“There’s a long story behind this,” said Mingyan with a grin, “and it’s a strange story at that. She said that when her mom was giving birth to her, she had a dream in which she received a bolt of brocade with a five-color endless ‘good fortune’ pattern. And so her name is ‘Wan’er.’”

“Well, she must have good fortune coming her way!” Baoyu replied with a laugh. “I’ll put in a good word for you tomorrow and will get her for you as a wife; how does that sound?”

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Translation Critique

Hawkes

Hawkes has Mingyan state that the girl was “not more than fifteen or so.” The Chinese states 不過十六七了, which translates to 16 or 17.

Hawkes has Wan’er’s mother give her the name “Swastika” because of the pattern. “Swastika,” of course, is kind of a strange name to give a girl, whereas 萬兒 (Wan’er) is at least plausible.

Yang

The Yangs stick with “sixteen or seventeen” as stated in the Chinese original. However, they also give the poor girl the odd “Swastika” name.

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Chinese Text

寶玉見一個人沒有，因想：「素日這裡有個小書房，內曾掛著一軸美人，畫的很得神。今日這般熱鬧，想那裡自然無人，那美人也自然是寂寞的，須得我去望慰他一回。」想著，便往那裡來。剛到窗前，聽見屋裡一片喘息之聲。寶玉倒唬了一跳，心想：「美人活了不成？」乃大著膽子，舔破窗紙，向內一看。那軸美人卻不曾活，卻是茗煙按著個女孩子，也幹那警幻所訓之事，正在得趣，故此呻吟。寶玉禁不住大叫：「了不得！」一腳踹進門去，將那兩個唬的抖衣而顫。

茗煙見是寶玉，忙跪下哀求。寶玉道：「青天白日，這是怎麼說！珍大爺要知道了，你是死是活？」一面看那丫頭，倒也白白淨淨兒的，有些動人心處，在那裡羞的臉紅耳赤，低首無言。寶玉跺腳道：「還不快跑！」一語提醒那丫頭，飛跑去了。寶玉又趕出去，叫道：「你別怕，我不告訴人。」急的茗煙在後叫：「祖宗，這是分明告訴人了！」

寶玉因問：「那丫頭十幾歲了？」茗煙道：「不過十六七了。」寶玉道：「連他的歲數也不問問，就作這個事，可見他白認得你了！可憐，可憐！」又問：「名字叫什麼？」茗煙笑道：「若說出名字來，話長，真正新鮮奇文！他說，他母親養他的時節，做了一個夢，夢得了一疋錦，上面是五色富貴不斷頭的『卍』字花樣；所以他的名字就叫作萬兒。」寶玉聽了，笑道：「想必他將來有些造化。等我明兒說了給你作媳婦，好不好？」

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Translation Notes

畫的很得神 is a bit confusing. 得神 is an old term in Chinese art criticism that means something like “transmitting the spirit.”

It’s been a while since we’ve seen Mingyan (茗煙). We first encountered him near the end of chapter 9:

Mingyan is Jia Baoyu’s favorite young servant.

那警幻所訓之事 refers to the sexual instruction that the Goddess Who Unveils Illusion taught to Jia Baoyu back at the end of chapter 5:

As you might recall, Jia Baoyu then used these techniques in his first sexual encounter at the beginning of chapter 6. His target was his maid, Hua Xiren:

Jia Baoyu exclaims “了不得!” which probably translates best as something like “This is too much!” or “What a disaster!” It’s an exclamation filled with somewhat mild panic.

唬的抖衣而顫 literally means that the two were so scared that they shook all over, so much that even their clothes were trembling.

卍 (wàn) is a Buddhist symbol that was originally intended to convey good fortune or well-being. It was eventually taken over by the Nazi party in Germany.

The name 萬兒 (Wan’er) is a play on words. 萬 means ten thousand and conveys the idea of ten thousand blessings or endless wealth or something like that. Plus, it is pronounced the same as the character 卍.

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It’s kind of hard to believe these days, but there was once a time when using Pinyin to write romanized Chinese was almost like a political statement.

In fact, Pinyin was so fraught with controversy that even Gladys Yang’s A Dream of Red Mansions used the old Wade-Giles convention.

Wade-Giles, of course, is pretty confusing, especially if the person writing the article or translation or book or whatever it is neglects to use the apostrophes. And, well, it turns out that the Yangs didn’t bother to worry too much about apostrophes in their translation of Dream of the Red Chamber:

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Though his translation avoided a lot of the Marxist overtones that the Yangs were forced to use in theirs, David Hawkes decided to use Pinyin instead of the Wade-Giles tradition. And, of course, back in the 1970s Pinyin wasn’t really understood all that well, prompting Hawkes to include notes like this in the beginning of many of the volumes of The Story of the Stone:

Now, if you spend a lot of time digging through older books on Chinese history, you’ll realize just how pervasive (and confusing) Wade-Giles really was. My favorite example of this is The Cambridge History of China. The history is fantastic, but the romanization leaves a lot to be desired:

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I mean, Wade-Giles isn’t necessarily awful, and it’s not as hard to switch between it and Pinyin as you might think at first. But still, you get the feeling with Wade-Giles that every single word starts with a t or ch or tz or ts, and the apostrophes are just annoying after a while.

Anyway, all this and more is the topic of my latest video:

All I can say is that I’m happy to have Pinyin. The alternative is anything but pretty.

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We’re back to more literary references. Fortunately, these are a little bit easier than the ones we previously saw.

My Translation

The visit had complete exhausted the staff of both the Ning and Rong mansions. Every single person was completely worn out, both physically and mentally. It then took another two or three days just to pack away all the display items and other things that they had set up in the garden.

Wang Xifeng was clearly the busiest out of all. She had many important duties that overwhelmed her. The others could slip away to someplace quiet for a moment or two, but Wang Xifeng simply could not get away. Besides, she was driven by her naturally competitive spirit. She couldn’t bear to give anybody a chance to criticize her, and so she forced herself to keep going, doing her best to look like nothing was wrong.

Jia Baoyu, on the other hand, was clearly the most idle and carefree out of everybody. And it just so happened that on this particular morning Hua Xiren’s mother came in person to see Grandmother Jia. Xiren’s mother told Grandmother Jia that she was taking her daughter home for New Year’s tea, and that she wouldn’t bring her back until that evening.

And so Baoyu was left to amuse himself with the maids by playing a board game. Just as he was starting to lose interest in this game, a maid came into his room to report: “Jia Zhen has sent somebody to invite you over to watch the opera and see the lanterns set out.”

Baoyu ordered the maids to help him change clothes. He was just about to leave when a gift suddenly arrived from Jia Yuanchun. This was sugar-steamed sweet milk curd. Baoyu remembered that Xiren had enjoyed this treat the last time they had it, so he ordered that it be set aside for her. Then he reported to Grandmother Jia and went to watch the opera.

Who would have thought that the plays Jia Zhen staged were Ding Lang Recognizes His Father and Huang Boyang Lays Out the Great Formation of Ghostly Souls? There was also Sun Wukong Wreaks Havoc in the Heavenly Palace and Jiang Taigong Slays the Generals and Invests the Gods. In an instant, gods and demons came swarming out; the next moment, every fiend and monster were fully revealed. And throughout all of this were processions bearing ceremonial banners and passing before the altars, as well as devotees chanting the Buddha’s name and carrying incense. The clash of gongs and drums and all the shouting was so loud that it could be heard across the lanes outside the complex. The men, all the cousins, nephews, and brothers, toasted and made pledges to each other. The women, including sisters, maids, and concubines, laughed and chatted together.

Baoyu, however, decided to wander off to amuse himself after seeing that the splendor and excitement had reached such an intolerable level. He first slipped inside to fool around for awhile with Lady You and her maids and concubines. He then exited through the inner gate.

Lady You and the others assumed that he had gone back to watch the opera, and so nobody paid much attention to him. Jia Zhen, Jia Lian, Xue Pan, and the rest were entirely absorbed in guessing riddles and drinking games, and were enjoying themselves to the fullest. Even if they noticed Baoyu hadn’t been in his seat for a while, they assumed that he had gone off somewhere inside and thought nothing of it.

As far as Baoyu’s male attendants were concerned, the older ones knew that he wouldn’t leave this sort of affair until evening, and so they took the chance to slip away. Some went off to gamble, and others went to visit relatives or friends, drinking and betting, each drifting off on his own with plans to return that night. The younger ones, meanwhile, had all squeezed into the backstage area to watch all the excitement.

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Translation Critique

Hawkes

Hawkes makes a few small rhetorical changes to the beginning of this section. In Chinese it talks about how Wang Xifeng was the busiest of them all, calling her “第一個” (i.e. the busiest of all). Hawkes instead talks about how “Xi-Feng forced herself to supervise the taking down and storing away of all the decorations” and so forth, putting Wang Xifeng in as an integral part of everything happening. It’s not inaccurate, but it’s also not exactly the same as the original.

Hawkes calls the somewhat awkwardly explained board game (擲骰子趕圍棋, or “the throwing dice Go board game”) as “Racing Go,” explaining that “this was a game in which you moved your Go-piece across the board in accordance with the throw of dice, the object being to reach the opposite side before everyone else and pocket all the stakes.”

Hawkes translates the drink from Jia Yuanchun as “koumiss.” Koumiss is a kind of fermented drink made from the milk of a mare, and is common among people in the Centra Asian steppes. The name seems to come from the Russian word кумы́с, and probably originally was from an ancient Turkic language.

Yang

The Yangs translate the mysterious game as “dice or draughts.” Draughts is actually an alternative name for the game checkers, and seems to be common in the United Kingdom.

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Chinese Text

且說榮寧二府中連日用盡心力，真是人人力倦，各各神疲，又將園中一應陳設動用之物，收拾了兩三天方完。第一個鳳姐事多任重，別人或可偷閒躲靜，獨他是不能脫得的；二則本性要強，不肯落人褒貶，只扎掙著，與無事的人一樣。第一個寶玉是極無事最閒暇的。偏這一早，襲人的母親又親來回過賈母，接襲人家去吃年茶，晚上才得回來。因此，寶玉只和眾丫頭們擲骰子趕圍棋作戲。正在房內頑得沒興頭，忽見丫頭們來回說：「東府裡珍大爺來請過去看戲，放花燈。」寶玉聽了，便命換衣裳。才要去時，忽又有賈妃賜出糖蒸酥酪來。寶玉想上次襲人喜吃此物，便命人留與襲人了，自己回過賈母，過去看戲。

誰想賈珍這邊唱的是《丁郎認父》、《黃伯央大擺陰魂陣》，更有《孫行者大鬧天宮》、《姜太公斬將封神》等類的戲文，倏爾神鬼亂出，忽又妖魔畢露。內中揚旛過會、號佛行香，鑼鼓喊叫之聲，聞於巷外。弟兄子侄，互為獻酬；姊妹婢妾，共相笑語。獨有寶玉，見那繁華熱鬧到如此不堪的田地，只略坐了一坐，便走往各處閒耍。先是進內去和尤氏並丫頭姬妾鬼混了一回，便出二門來。尤氏等仍料他出來看戲，遂也不曾照管。賈珍、賈璉、薛蟠等只顧猜謎行令，百般作樂，縱一時不見他在座，只道在裡邊去了，也不理論。至於跟寶玉的小廝們：那年紀大些的，知寶玉這一來了必是晚上才散，因此偷空兒，也有會賭錢的，也有往親友家去的，或賭或飲，都私自散了，待晚上再來；那些小些的，都鑽進戲房裡瞧熱鬧兒去了。

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Translation Notes

Notice in Chinese that the phrase 第一個 (the first) is repeated twice. Basically, this means that nobody among those who were busy was as busy as Wang Xifeng. Similarly, nobody among those who were lazy was as lazy as Jia Baoyu.

扎掙 means to move on with difficulty or to barely be able to physically support oneself. Wang Xifeng is described as just barely being able to handle her many duties, as if the magnitude of her tasks were taking a very literal physical toll on her.

年茶, or the “New Year tea,” was a ritual that was part of the Lantern Festival observances.

擲骰子趕圍棋 is a description of a dice based board game using Weiqi (or “Go,” 圍棋) chess pieces.

The four operas were all loud and percussion driven plays, and served a big contrast to the more refined plays that the family had performed for Jia Yuanchun during her visit.

丁郎認父, or Ding Lang Recognizes His Father, was a melodrama set in the Ming dynasty. It features a young man whose family is destroyed by a corrupt politician. He grows up and identifies his father, who had long since been exiled, by means of a broken mirror token that his mother had given him when he was young. Actually, this play includes no gods or demons at all, and seems to be the odd one out in this list.

黃伯央大擺陰魂陣, or Huang Boyang Lays Out the Great Formation of Ghostly Souls, told the story of a military master who traps a rival in a soul-snatching illusion. Cao Xueqin’s naming here has a few problems; the actual play seems to have been called 迷魂陣, or The Bewildering Soul Formation.

孫行者大鬧天宮, or Sun Wukong Wreaks Havoc in the Heavenly Palace, comes straight from chapters 3 through 7 of Journey to the West (西遊記). Sun Wukong rebels, names himself the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and storms the celestial palace.

姜太公斬將封神, or Jiang Taigong Slays the Generals and Invests the Gods, tells the story of how the Grand Duke Jiang slayed his opposing generals in battle. Then he canonizes the dead, both allies and enemies, as Gods of the Chinese pantheon.

The point Cao Xueqin seems to be making here is that this sort of entertainment is a much better reflection of the actual interests of the Jia family. These are all loud and vulgar plays, sort of like the equivalent of watching action movies in the White House.

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Cao Xueqin has an odd habit of trying to draw no attention at all to some of his most significant passages.

We saw one yesterday, though you probably didn’t realize it at the time:

The issue here comes in this part, where the Emperor rewards the Jia family for taking such good care of Jia Yuanchun:

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龍顏甚悅，又發內帑綵緞金銀等物，以賜賈政及各椒房等員

The Emperor was extremely pleased. He sent gifts of silks, brocades, gold, silver, and so on from his personal treasury to reward Jia Zheng and the various members of Jia Yuanchun’s family.

So what’s the problem with this?

The problem lies in the concept of a 內帑, or the Empror’s own personal purse.

Now, this might strike you as a more intimate act of grace, as if he were trying to tie himself closer to the Jia family. And I can see how members of the Jia family would also interpret things this way.

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However, by avoiding using the state funds (probably something like 國庫), the Emperor is basically making the Jia family subservient to his own whims. The Jia family is quickly turning into a family that is entirely dependent on the grace and favor of the current reigning Emperor, which is extremely dangerous.

This is dangerous because there was a concept at the time of collective guilt. In other words, if anything were to happen to Jia Yuanchun for any reason, her entire family would be at risk because of this personal patronage.

As I’ve noted before, this really points at the fundamental issue that the Jia family faces. Since none of the males in the family have successfully passed the imperial exams, the family has no way to guarantee that it can continue the way of life it has been accustomed to. And, if Jia Baoyu continues to not take the imperial examinations seriously, disaster is indeed inevitable.

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You’ll probably wonder why today’s post is so short. There’s a reason why I wanted to keep this post short. While it seems like nothing is going on here, this is actually a very important passage for the overall story. More tomorrow.

My Translation

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Instead of looking back at where we’ve been, I wanted to give you a sneak picture of where Dream of the Red Chamber is going from here.

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After almost two months of translation posts, we’ve finally made it to the end of chapter 18.

My Translation

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Here’s a quick recording with some scattered thoughts on yesterday’s post.

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While this is simply a list of gifts that Jia Yuanchun gave to her family and the household in general, there’s a lot that we can learn from this section.

My Translation

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Every once in a while I get recommendations and ideas from readers.

I figured I’d make a public page today soliciting ideas and requests. This is particularly helpful for the future of this blog, and also helps me out of a tight jam on a morning when I’m running behind.

Please let me know in the comments how you think the project can be improved.

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This is yet another passage that seems shallow at first glance, but is actually very deep. Let’s dig in.

My Translation

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You might remember the video I came out with the other day:

If you haven’t seen it yet, go check it out.

Anyway, I originally wanted Monday’s post to be a full guide to the various editions of Dream of the Red Chamber that are out there. However, I wound up spending more time doing research on those editions than actually piecing together a post.

To make up for that, I’ll just make today’s post the edition guide. Here are the raw notes that I took while piecing together the video, complete with a few comments about where these editions come from.

I’m putting this out for free for all of you who are curious students of this book. It can take quite a bit of time to piece all of this together, especially since almost all the information out there is in Chinese. The names of these manuscripts and variations are also difficult to piece together even if your native language is Chinese.

Anyway, here goes:

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Manuscripts

This includes all handwritten copies of Dream of the Red Chamber. Most of these include commentary in red, which is the famous 脂硯齋 (Zhiyanzhai, or red inkstone) commentary. None of these are original manuscripts; they are all copies of copies.

1754 甲戌本 Jiaxu manuscript

• Purchased by Hu Shi in 1927; is now at Cornell university

• Chapters 1-8, 13-16, and 25-28; original probably had 80 chapters.

• Most copies we have are black and white. A color version was printed in Taiwan in 1961 but is rare.

1759 己卯本 Jimao manuscript

• Held in National Library of China, Beijing

• Originally 41 chapters with 13 recovered later for a total of 54 chapters (this is confusing, I know)

1760 庚辰本 Gengchen

• In Peking University library

• 78 chapters survive; chapters 64 and 67 are missing, and chapters 17 and 18 are unseparated

• This is the most complete “zhi commentary” version and is the basis for most of the modern critical versions of the novel

• This one is the reason why you see chapters 17 and 18 combined in official published editions of the book.

戚序本 Qi-Preface

• Manuscripts that contain a preface by Qi Liaosheng (戚蓼生) who was a scholar-official in the 18^th century

• This includes all 80 chapters with integrated commentary

• These were the earliest manuscripts to reach the public, going back to a photographic reproduction in 1911.

• There are numerous versions of this manuscript out there, which can be pretty confusing. The thing they all have in common is the Qi Liaosheng preface.

蒙府本 Mongol Prince Mansion

• Found in a Mongol Prince palace in the 1960s

• 120 chapters, but the last 40 chapters are unique

• The final 40 chapters are usually considered a later patchwork and are likely not a Cao Xueqin original

• Some variants in first 80 chapters

列藏本 Leningrad

• Found in Leningrad in the 1960s; brought to China in the 1980s for study

• 78 chapters with some commentary but less than other manuscripts

• Also has some unique readings

• Seems to have gone from China to Russia sometime in the 1830s.

梦稿本 Dream

• Owned by Qing dynasty scholar Yang jizhen (楊繼振); he got it sometime in the 19^th century

• 120 chapters

• First 80 chapters seem to be a printed-style text

• Last 40 chapters have traces of a revised draft

• Could this be an earlier version of what Cheng Weiyuan and Gao E were working on?

楊藏本 The Yang Manuscript

• This seems to have originally been published in 1973. This is a 120 chapter manuscript covered with deletions and so forth.

南圖本 The “Nanjing Library” version

• Probably came from sometime in the middle of the 19^th century, kind of hard to tell

• Includes Zhiyanzhai commentaries and the Qi Liaosheng preface

1784 甲辰本 Jiachen

• Dated 1784 in the text

• 80 chapters

• Includes a preface by Mengjuezhuren (夢覺主人)

• Shows some editorial interventions, and seems to be a textual bridge

1789 舒序本 Shu-Preface

• Dated 1789

• Only 40 chapters

• With preface by Shu Yuwei (舒元煒)

郑藏本 Zheng Zang Ben

• Chapter 23 only

• Discovered in Zheng Zhenduo’s collection

卞藏本 Bian Zang Ben

• 10 chapters that surfaced in 2006

• Some people think this is a modern fake

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Printed Versions

There are hundreds of different printed versions of Dream of the Red Chamber, probably because the text itself is not under copyright. It’s common to see random editions spring up from small and somewhat bizarre publishing companies in random parts of China. Some of these use font sizes that are so small that the text is literally unreadable.

I like to collect these different versions. However, the list below includes only the major variants that I am aware of rather than including every single different possible permutation of the book.

1791 程甲本 Cheng Jia edition

• First completed and printed 120 chapter edition

• Lots of differences from the old manuscripts with red ink commentary

• Includes preface in which Gao E and Cheng Weiyuan explain that the final 40 chapters were reconstructed based on different manuscripts.

• This was the most popular version of the text until 1927; almost all easily accessible versions were this text.

1792 程乙本 Cheng Yi edition

• Revised edition that formed the base of the most popular version of this book in the 20^th century

• Most changes in this version came to the final 40 chapters.

• Includes additional preface note with more explanation about the provenance of the final 40 chapters; Gao E and Cheng Weiyuan claim that they found better quality original manuscripts of these chapters, but offer no real provenance information or explanation.

• This is generally considered the popular version of the novel to this day; chances are that your Chinese grandparents read this version.

三家評本 19^th century commentary version

• Includes three different commentators: Wang Xilian (王希廉), Zhang Xinzhi (張新之), and Yao Xie

• This is what basically cemented the Cheng-Gao base in the understanding of this novel.

• These commentaries did not take into consideration any manuscripts, which were difficult to find and very obscure.

Yadong Editions 亞東版

• Published by Yadong Library in Shanghai

• Prefaces by Hu Shi and Chen Duxiu

• 1921 edition was the Cheng Yi edition with Hu Shi’s preface; this is what turned the novel into a modern printed book

• 1927 edition was this version with further revisions and used the 1792 text as the base.

• This is the version most prominent in the Republic of China era

1953 作家出版社 Zuojia Chubanshe

• First standardized popular edition in the PRC

1957 人民文学出版社 Renmin Wenxue Chubanshe

• Base text with the Cheng Yi veresion

• Includes a preface by that reflects the orthodox Marxist interpretation

• This was the standard text for two decades, though there was a period between 1966 and 1971 or so when Dream of the Red Chamber was not allowed to be sold in stores.

• Includes explanatory footnotes for difficult to understand characters

1982 人民文学出版社 Renmin Wenxue Chubanshe

• The first 80 chapters here are based on the Gengchen manuscript primarily

• This is where they started combining chapters 17 and 18

• This instantly became the standard version in China

• This is basically the most important version of the novel since the Yadong Editions, and marked a major scholarly shift towards the manuscripts.

1983 紅樓夢校注 Taipei version

• Also uses the Gengchen manuscript for the first 80 chapters, but with parts of the Leningrad manuscript

• This is the scholarly version in Taiwan

• Note, however, that it’s much easier to find versions of the 1792 text in Taiwan through publishers like 三民書局.

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We’re not done with the literary references yet. This short paragraph will give you headaches if you try reading it without translation notes. Let’s jump in.

My Translation

After she had read these poems, Jia Yuanchun was absolutely delighted. “You’ve really improved a lot!” she exclaimed. She singled out the “Apricot Tavern” poem as the best of the four.

She then ordered that the name The Hemp Washing Villa be changed to Fragrant Rice Village. She also had Tanchun copy the ten or so poems onto embroidered stationary, and then ordered an eunuch to deliver them to the men in the outer rooms of the household.

When Jia Zheng and the others read the poems, they praised them without ceasing. Jia Zhen then composed an ode of his own about Jia Yuanchun’s return home.

Jia Yuanchun then ordered that delicacies like jade pudding and golden meats be given to Jia Baoyu and Jia Lan. Jia Lan was still young and didn’t understand any of these formalities, and so he simply bowed along with his mother and uncle.

While all this was happening, Jia Qiang had brought a group of actresses to the house and was waiting downstairs. He was starting to run out of patience when an eunuch came flying down the stairs. “The poems are done,” announced the eunuch. “Bring the playbill at once!” And so Jia Qiang quickly presented the list of plays along with a list of the names of the twelve girls.

Before long, four plays had been selected. These were:

1. The Grand Banquet

2. Begging for Skill

3. The Immortal’s Encounter

4. The Soul’s Departure

Jia Qiang hurried around, getting costumes ready and preparing the staging for the plays. Each of the girls had a voice so beautiful that it could split the stones, and each of them could dance with angelic posture. Though it was all obviously acting, the girls performed so well that they fully conveyed the extremes of joy and sorrow to the audience.

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Translation Critique

Hawkes

Hawkes describes Jia Zheng’s poem as a “eulogy.” Normally a eulogy is a speech to honor a deceased person, usually at a funeral. However, it can also refer to the act of praising somebody. The word eulogy here is very odd, and carries a connotation with it that is not present in the Chinese text.

Hawkes calls the foods “junket and mince.” Junket here is a kind of cream cheese.

Hawkes offers a little bit of explanation about the scenes in each of the plays, but decides against using any explanatory footnotes:

Four pieces were chosen: “Shi-fan Entertains” from The Handful of Snow, “The Double Seventh” from The Palace of Eternal Youth, “The Meeting of the Immortals” from The Han-dan Road and Li-niang’s death-scene from The Return of the Soul.

I suppose the assumption here is that the reader is already familiar with these poems. However, when it comes to a book like Dream of the Red Chamber with many references to literature that doesn’t actually exist, it would have been nice to know that these plays were actual plays.

Yang

The Yangs have Jia Zheng compose a panegyric, which is a speech full of praise. This is a bit more appropriate than a eulogy, though the more accurate translation would simple be an “ode” or a “poem.”

The Yangs follow Hawkes in calling 瓊酪 “junket.” My guess is that they simply used Hawkes’ word; remember that the first volume of The Story of the Stone came out years before the Yangs released their translation.

The Yangs include footnotes that explain the names and authors of each of the plays, though they do not offer any additional commentary about the scenes. Actually, David Hawkes offers a lot more context than the Yangs do in this scene.

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Chinese Text

元妃看畢，喜之不盡，說：「果然進益了！」又指「杏簾」一首為四首之冠。遂將澣葛山莊改為稻香村，又命探春將方才十數首詩另以錦箋謄出，令太監傳與外廂。賈政等看了，都稱頌不已。賈政又進歸省頌。元妃又命以瓊酪金膾等物賜與寶玉並賈蘭。此時賈蘭尚幼，未諳諸事，只不過隨母依叔行禮而已。那時賈薔帶領一班女戲子，在樓下正等得不耐煩，只見一個太監飛跑下來說：「做完了詩了，快拿戲單來。」賈薔忙將戲目呈上，並十二個人的花名冊子。少時，點了四齣戲：第一齣，《豪宴》；第二齣，《乞巧》；第三齣，《仙緣》；第四齣，《離魂》。賈薔忙張羅扮演起來，一個個歌有裂石之音，舞有天魔之態。雖是裝演的形容，卻做盡悲歡的情狀。

Translation Notes

Jia Yuanchun singling out the “Apricot Tavern” poem as the best of the four (指「杏簾」一首為四首之冠) is ironic, since Lin Daiyu is the one who composed it.

The name 稻香村 (Fragrant Rice Village) comes straight from Lin Daiyu’s poem, in particular this line:

一畦春韮熟，十里稻花香。

There is one plot of land with young spring chives,

And miles of fragrant fields with rice blossoms.

If you think back a little bit, you’ll remember that 澣葛山莊, or “The Hemp Washing Villa,” was actually a direct reference to the Confucian ideal of feminine virtue. Changing it to the very expressive and sensory 稻香村 (Fragrant Rice Village) is a massive difference.

箋 means stationary, and so 錦箋 means embroidered stationary.

瓊酪 literally means “jade milk curd.” It’s not entirely clear what food this is supposed to be.

金膾 means something like “golden minced raw fish or meat.”

Jia Lan (賈蘭) is Li Wan’s son, and is Jia Baoyu’s nephew. We haven’t seen much about him yet; here’s an old post to refresh your memory:

The four plays are all significant.

豪宴, or The Grand Banquet, is an excerpt from a play called A Handful of Snow (一捧雪) by an early Qing dynasty playwright named Li Yu (李玉). This is the story of an official who owns a flawless jade cup called “A Handful of Snow.” A powerful minister wants to get the cup, and so he frames the official and destroys his whole family. This particular scene is the villain’s magnificent banquet, and is used here as a clear foreshadowing of the coming fall of the Jia family.

乞巧, or Begging for Skill, is an excerpt from a play called The Palace of Eternal Life (長生殿) by Hong Sheng (洪昇). This is another Qing dynasty play, and deals with the love story between Emperor Ming of the Tang dynasty and his beloved Yang Guifei. In this scene they vow their love to each other. However, the empire then collapses, and Yang Guifei is eventually forced to hang herself. This particular scene foretells the coming political disaster that will severely impact the Jia family.

仙緣, or The Immortal’s Encounter, is an excerpt from the play The Handan Dream (邯鄲記) by the Ming dynasty playwright Tang Xianzu (湯顯祖). This is about the scholar Lv Sheng meeting the Taoist immortal Lv Dongbin at an inn, hence the phrase “immortal encounter.” Lv Sheng has a dream during this scene in which he goes through an entire lifetime, including passing the imperial examinations, wining high office, receiving glory, then suffering disgrace and finally passing away. This points towards Jia Baoyu’s eventual destiny, and brings up questions about the difference between dreams and reality that permeate Dream of the Red Chamber.

離魂, or The Soul’s Departure, is an excerpt from The Peony Pavilion (牡丹亭), also by Tang Xianzu (湯顯祖). The Peony Pavilion is one of the most obvious influences on Dream of the Red Chamber, and references to this play will come up time and time again as we move forward. In this scene, a man named Du Liniang has a dream about a beautiful girl. He falls in love with her, but she grows sick and dies; in fact, “The Soul’s Departure” is the scene where her soul leaves her body. In the end, his love proves stronger than death: he finds her self-portrait, which causes her soul to return, and she is resurrected to marry him. This is a prediction of Lin Daiyu’s eventual fate.

Notice how Cao Xueqin merely names these plays and moves right along, even though this is one of the most significant literary passages in the entire chapter.

The reference to voices that can split stone and the posture of angels ( 歌有裂石之音，舞有天魔之態) likely seems a little bit odd to you. 歌有裂石之音, or a voice that can break the stones, refers to high, piercing, and resonant voices. While you can find similar hyperbolic descriptions of resonant voices in classical Chinese literature, this phrase is entirely a Cao Xueqin creation.

Meanwhile, 舞有天魔之態 is interesting. I translated 天魔 as “angels” to help the English version make sense, though it actually refers to the minions of the demon king Mara who assailed the Buddha with visions of worldly delight in an attempt to prevent his enlightenment. In fact, the word 天魔 itself is a transliteration of the Sanskrit word मार (Māra), which could also be translated literally as “death” or “the destroyer.”

There’s a historic connotation here as well. The last Emperor of the Yuan dynasty kept sixteen palace women, who were referred to as 十六天魔, or “the 16 heavenly demons.” They would dance in fancy dress for various spectacles with Buddhist connotations that would always degenerate into lascivious entertainment. The Emperor enjoyed these dances so much that he neglected the affairs of state, leading directly to the collapse of the dynasty. Therefore, this talk about “the dance of angels” refers directly to 天魔舞, or the collapse of an entire empire.

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It’s a little bit late in coming, but I finally finished up a quick overview of the history of the text of Dream of the Red Chamber:

This is what we’d normally call “higher criticism,” which refers to criticism that focuses on the text itself. “Lower criticism” is more like what you read on this blog every day - that involves reading the commonly accepted text and arguing incessantly about what it means.

Of course, the problem with Dream of the Red Chamber is that analysis of the text itself brings with it a lot of assumptions and complications, including some things that can be really difficult to understand.

The other problem is that it’s really not easy to find copies of all these various manuscript variants and the various versions that have been published over the years.

I have my ways, however, and have slowly been piecing together a pretty comprehensive collection of all of this stuff.

Soon - in fact, hopefully by the end of this week - I’ll have a major update to the files area of this site with a bunch of helpful files. These will include:

Published translations in multiple languages (basically as much as I can find)

All Chinese editions of the book I’ve been able to come across, including manuscripts and printed copies

Numerous commentary books and articles that have come up over the years

And more!

Of course, collecting all the books is one thing. Actually reading them is another. But we’ve got time on our hands. Stay tuned as I slowly start working through the world of commentaries.

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This is the final of Jia Baoyu’s four poems for Jia Yuanchun. Remember that this poem was actually composed by Lin Daiyu.

My Translation

Apricot Banner In Sight

The apricot banner invites travelers to drink;

You can see a mountain villa from here.

The geese swim on water filled with chestnuts and lilies;

The swallows dart through mulberry and elm trees to the rafters.

There is one plot of land with young spring chives,

And miles of fragrant fields with rice blossoms.

In this prosperous age, nobody goes hungry.

Why should one toil at plowing and weaving?

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Translation Critique

Hawkes

David Hawkes translates this poem in this way:

The Hopeful Sign

An inn-sign, through the orchards half-discerned,

Promises shelter and a drink well-earned.

Through water-weeds the pond’s geese make their way;

Midst elms and mulberry-trees the swallows play.

The garden’s chives are ready to prepare;

The scent of young rice perfumes all the air.

When want is banished, as in times like these,

The spinner and the ploughman take their ease.

This is a good translation, all in all. Hawkes replaced the second line with a generic line about “a drink well-earned,” but it doesn’t really take anything away from the overall feeling.

Yang

The Yangs translate this poem like this:

APPROACH TO APRICOT TAVERN

A grove of apricots, a tavern-sign

And a hillside hamlet beyond:

Elms, mulberries, swallows on rafters,

And geese on the caltrop pond.

In the fields spring leeks are green;

All round, the paddy flowers scent the breeze;

None go hungry in these good times,

Ploughman and weaver alike can take their ease.

Like the Hawkes translation, this one is perfectly fine. The only real difference is that the second line is translated accurately.

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Chinese Text

杏簾在望

杏簾招客飲，在望有山莊。菱荇鵝兒水，桑榆燕子樑。

一畦春韮熟，十里稻花香。盛世無飢餒？何須耕織忙。

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Translation Notes

菱 means a water chestnut, and 荇 is a kind of water lily. Both of these are plans that grow in slow-moving water.

畦 is a measure word for a plot or bed in a vegetable garden.

韮 means garlic chives or Chinese leeks.

十里 means ten li, which is about 5 kilometers. I simplified this by calling the distance “miles,” since this is likely not intended to be a specific measurement.

The final two lines are a somewhat sarcastic reference to the fact that this particular farm is not really designed for actual farm work. This reflects Jia Baoyu’s earlier criticism of this very building:

寶玉道：「卻又來！此處置一田莊，分明是人力造作成的。遠無鄰村，近不負郭，背山無脈，臨水無源；高無隱寺之塔，下無通市之橋，峭然孤出，似非大觀。那及前數處有自然之理，得自然之趣呢，雖種竹引泉，亦不傷穿鑿。古人云『天然圖畫』四字，正恐非其地而強為其地，非其山而強為其山，即百般精巧，終不相宜。」

“There you go again!” exclaimed Baoyu. “The farm that was placed here is clearly an artificial creation. There are no other villages in the distance, and there are no city walls nearby. The mountain behind it has no connecting ridge, and the water in front of it has no natural source. There’s no pagoda above it to hint at a hidden temple, and there’s no bridge below it to suggest a market town. It’s stark and isolated, and does not belong to any grand view.

“How can this place compare with the place we just saw, which possessed the principle of nature and captured the charm of nature? Though that place had planted bamboo springs and water channels, it was not clearly man made.

“When the ancients spoke of ‘Natural Landscape Painting,’ they warned against exactly this sort of thing: forcing a landscape where it doesn’t belong, and forcing a mountain where it doesn’t fit. After all, even using every kind of craftsmanship in the end will not result in actual harmony with nature.”

We can tell that this poem was composed by Lin Daiyu because it doesn’t have any of the ornate artifice that you usually see in court poetry. It’s direct and insightful.

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Okay, it’s time to get really geeky about something again. Let’s get into it.

Please be aware that there are numerous spoilers in this podcast recording.

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Today we have Jia Baoyu’s third poem. This one is a bit easier to understand and interpret.

My Translation

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A friend of mine had a question after reading yesterday’s poem.

The question revolves around these two lines:

軟襯三春草，柔拖一縷香。

They softly contrast with the late spring grass,

Gently leaving a single sweet scent.

In particular - should we call 三春 “late spring,” or something else?

First of all, you need to realize that the phrase 三春 always has a deeper meaning in Dream of the Red Chamber. The character 春 here refers to the names of the four Jia family “sisters:” Jia Yuanchun, Jia Yingchun, Jia Tanchun, and Jia Xichun.

We were actually introduced to this way back in chapter 2, though it’s easy to forget:

雨村道：「更妙在甄家風俗：女兒之名亦皆從男子之名，不似別人家另外用這些『春』『紅』『香』『玉』等豔字。何得賈府亦落此俗套？」子興道：「不然。只因現今大小姐是正月初一所生，故名元春，餘者都從了『春』字。上一輩的卻也是從弟兄而來的。現有對證：目今你貴東家林公的夫人即榮府中赦政二公的胞妹，在家時名喚賈敏。不信時，你回去細訪可知。」

“What’s even more remarkable,” remarked Yucun, “is the naming custom in the Zhen family. Their daughter’s names follow the same pattern as their son’s names. They’re not like the other households, which insist on gaudy names like ‘spring,’ ‘red,’ ‘fragrant,’ or ‘jade.’ How could the Jia family stoop to such vulgar customs?”

“It’s not like that,” replied Zixing. “It’s only because their oldest daughter was born on the first day of the New Year. That’s why they called her ‘Primordial Spring,’ or ‘Yuanchun.’ The others just followed with the same ‘Spring’ character [Chun]. The daughters of the previous Jia generation, however, did follow the naming pattern of their brothers. Here’s the proof: the wife of your employer, Master Lin, is the full younger sister of the Rong mansion’s Jia She and Jia Zheng. She was named Jia Min. If you don’t believe me, ask them yourself when you go back.”

In general, the phrase 三春 refers to the three remaining Jia family sisters, now that Jia Yuanchun is part of the Imperial harem.

Now, there are actually two different ways to think about 三春. One is “the three springs,” or the three girls with “Chun” in their name, as I described above. And the other way is to think about the three different time periods within spring.

These time periods are pretty easy to understand. You’ve got 初春, or the first part of spring; 仲春, or the middle part of spring, and 暮春, or the late part of spring.

Now, you can assign numbers to each of those. If you were to use numbers to differentiate the different time periods within spring, then 三春 would naturally be the same as 暮春, or “late spring.” That’s how I translated 三春 in yesterday’s poem.

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I’ve used the same translation approach when we came across 三春 in the past, too. See this post, for instance:

三春爭及初春景？虎兔相逢大夢歸。

Can the late spring rival the first dawn of spring?

When the tiger meets the rabbit, the great dream is done.

In this poem, the assocation between 三春 (the third spring, late spring, or whatever) and 暮春 (late spring) is obvious. It’s written in direct contrast to 初春. And there’s a really good chance that this poem refers to one of the three Jia sisters.

However, there are also times where 三春 really can’t be translated as “late spring.” Take this, for example:

將那三春看破，桃紅柳綠待如何？

As she sees through the splendor of the three springs,

She wonders what use the reds and greens of spring are.

In this case, 三春 absolutely needs to refer to all three of the periods of spring, rather than only the last one. Note as well the reference to the colors green and red, which is something that we’ve seen come up pretty frequently in chapters 17 and 18.

There’s also a poem where 三春 is almost impossible to translate to English:

勘破三春景不長，緇衣頓改昔年妝。

可憐繡戶侯門女，獨臥青燈古佛旁！

Clearly seeing that the spring won’t last forever,

She suddenly changed into dark robes.

What a shame that this daughter of wealth

Now sleeps alone by the dim lamp of an ancient Buddha!

I’m really not sure what to do with 三春 here, unless we translate it as “late spring” again. This one is a head scratcher.

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Anyway, in the poem we saw yesterday, 三春 is mentioned in connection with an actual place. While it very likely refers to the three Jia sisters, the context of the visual image makes the most sense if we simply call it “late spring,” and not something like “the three springs:”

蘅蕪滿靜苑，蘿薜助芬芳。

軟襯三春草，柔拖一縷香。

Wild ginger fills the quiet courtyard,

The climbing vines add their fragrance.

They softly contrast with the late spring grass,

Gently leaving a single sweet scent.

Of course, if you think about what this poem represents, it’s pretty clear that it refers to a girl whose appearance and beauty sets herself apart from the three Chun sisters.

I’ll also note in my own defense that both David Hawkes and the Yangs struggle with this passage. Hawkes translates it as “summer” for some bizarre reason:

Fragrance of flower-drifts in these quiet confines

Mingles with headier scents of eglantines,

And summer’s herbs in a soft, spicy bed

Their aromatic perfumes subtly spread.

The Yangs at least call it “spring,” but they seem to get the picture completely wrong:

Alpinia fills the courtyard free from dust,

By climbing fig its fragrance reinforced;

Softly they heighten the fresh green of spring,

Gently they trail their perfume, ring on ring.

Anyway, I’d love to know what you think about all of this!

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