Jia Tanchun

Wenying Dongfang, 1987 television series

The Story of the Stone, also called The Dream of the Red Chamber, by Cao Xuequin [first printed 1791] is well-known as the story of a young man, Bao-yu, living in a large Confucian household torn between the love of a gifted, difficult poet, Lin Dai-yu, and his fated marriage to a more measured, beautiful woman, Xue Bao-chai. Hundreds of characters with many complex stories fill the pages of this classical Chinese novel, which we most likely read in the David Hawkes translation. The novel has spawned its own study, “redology,” and endless debates are held about which of the two beauties is the better match for Bao-yu. Interesting as all this is, for me, the woman with her feet most on the ground, and a way into the story, is Bao-yu’s half-sister Tanchun.

Tanchun is one of the “twelve beauties” Bao-yu dreams of early in the book. One of the three “springs,” her name means “seeking spring.” Like Lin Dai-yu, she is a wonderful poet, but also she has managerial ability and can restore balance to a situation. Her mother, Auntie Zhao, is a concubine, and an unlikeable character, which dims Tanchun’s prospects. But Tanchun makes the most of her life and is one of the most successful beauties in the end.

As the story opens, Bao-yu, his cousins and relatives are quite young. The two branches of the Jia family live in adjoining mansions, each housing perhaps 300 people. One of their number has become consort to the emperor, so the families create a garden between the mansions, suitable as a residence for her when she comes to visit. The garden is pronounced lovely, but Jia Xuanchun says that the garden should not be left empty. Bao-yu and his young cousins, siblings and servants all move into it.

Bao-yu is supposed to be studying the Confucian classics, as directed by his father. But he refuses, spending his time idly, getting mixed up in intrigues and writing poetry. Bao-yu is the mouthpiece of the writer, Cao Xuequin, himself the scion of a great house about which he wrote with nostalgia as it went into decline. The book is a critique of society, castigating the Confucian scholar ruling class of the time with hypocrisy and lack of feeling. Those who study only to move up in the world are “career worms,” in Bao-yu’s eyes. Confucians felt passion was bad and must be quelled, but Bao-yu is interested in authenticity, finding the genuine feelings in one’s nature. Without passion, one is hardly a man. Thus his feelings for the romantic Dai-yu.

While living in the garden, Tanchun proposes a poetry club. When someone walks by with a pot of crabflowers, this name is attached to the club. Tanchun lives in the Autumn studio, where she paints and writes poetry. Under the benevolent eye of Grandmother Jia, the young people play games, go boating on the lake, watch plays and participate in ceremonies and festivals. When Wang Xi-feng, the spirited woman who manages the house, becomes ill, Tanchun learns to fill her shoes. Partly through the machinations of Wang Xi-feng, and certainly due to some of the wrongdoing of the greedy, lascivious and lazy members of the household, the Jia family falls into decline. When dealing with the quarrels, petty rivalries and outright fights, Tanchun says more than once that she wishes she lived with fewer people!

The climax of the book in reached with Bao-yu’s marriage. Everyone in the Jia household becomes involved in the deception. About this time, Zhou Qiong, a military man from the Haimen Coastal Region, asks for Tanchun’s hand. Tanchun must travel far to the south. A year or so later, at a tumultuous time, when Bao-yu cannot be found after his examinations and the only daughter of Wang Xi-feng is also missing, Tanchun and her husband return for a visit. “She had always been gifted with a knack of finding the right thing to say, and her natural equanimity restored a degree of calm to the gatherng.”

When visiting Hong Kong, I made a friend of a young girl whom I met in the street with a thick red book under her arm. Sure enough, it was a copy of Dream of the Red Chamber. I asked her about it! We met several times so she could practice her English. The book is a realistic depiction of the life of its time, but is also full of overtones of Confucian, Taoist and Buddhist philosophies. An opera made of the work opened in San Francisco in 2016. I have found whole courses in English on “redology,” such as these by Anthony E. Clark of Whitworth University. Clark expounds on the language, the story, the philosophy and history of the book. I wish you the joy of reading it yourself and finding your own favorite character. I could tell that Professor Clark loved best Wang Xi-feng, the “fox fairy.”