The Biography of Fat Zhang 大胖子张老闷儿列传

The story of Fat Zhang can only be found occasionally on some Chinese literary websites. Hardly anyone appears to know it in China, although the author, Huang Yongyu (黄永玉), is well known as a painter in China. The story was originally published as a serial in a Hongkong journal in 1992 and 1993, but several chapters were left out and are missing until today. I came across this story years ago, and while the text is demanding and difficult to translate, I continue to be intrigued and enchanted by the farcial character of the narrative--which to some extent still defy my understanding.

In brief, it is the story of an enormously fat cadre of the Communist Party in China during the lean times of the immediate pre-and post-liberation era. He is for no apparent reason Mao's favourite and irrevocably under his protection. Early on, he is honoured by an invitation to Mao's home for dinner during the legendary Yan'an era. Zhang acquires a new nickname when Mao (as a native of Henan) pronounces Zhang's name (Zhang Laomin张劳民, meaning 'Zhang Working-People') as sounding like Zhang Laomen'er张老闷儿 (approx. similar to 'Zhang Old-Bore') to people from Beijing.

The following excerpt from Chapter 2 is a comical description of Fat Zhang and his wife's introduction to their new lodgings in a traditional Beijing courtyard house inhabited by a number of working-class families (while Mao and the political elite settled themselves in the scenic and luxurious surroundings of the old imperial gardens at Zhongnanhai), and an encounter in a Mao-era communal toilet.  

张老闷儿跟夫人胡满堂搬进中院几分钟，院子里并不如何之哄动。大夥儿只彷佛听说来了个「局长」级的人物。万万想不到的，这位「局长」是如此这般的「大」，而「局长」夫人又是如此这般的「小」。

　　当然对这一家新邻居还没有达到公然浏览的程度，于是各家各户的男女长幼只能从门缝或隔著竹廉子暗暗窥探。

　　在胆子上有点地位的吴大妈，甚至藉著上院子水龙头那里涮茶壶的时候，伸长脖子向北屋狠狠瞧过几眼；可惜也没摸到什么底细。回屋时对平时就谨慎到家的丈夫，邮局老职员吴开发说：

　　「哼！不善！」

　　一点钟，两点钟过去了，人仍然不见出来。

***

Shortly after Fat Zhang and his wife Hu Mantang had moved into their new home, an uncharacteristic silence settled over the compound. Until that point, the residents knew hardly anything about the newcomers. They had only heard that he was someone on the level of a ‘bureau chief’, but most astonishing was the rumour that this official was also said to be as ‘fat’ as his wife was ‘tiny’!

None of them had yet progressed to formally meeting the new neighbours, and so every man, woman, child, whether young, old, big or small, from every family living in the compound, was reduced to peeking through cracks in the door, spying from behind bamboo blinds or trying to catch a glimpse by lurking around corners.  

Aunty Wu, the most dauntless among them, was rinsing her teapot forever at the communal tap while craning her neck. Unfortunately, she saw nothing worth mentioning. When she returned to her lodgings, she commented to her husband, the post office worker Wu Kaifa (who had just unobtrusively sneaked back into the courtyard on his way back from work):

“No! Nothing new!”

Another hour, another two hours tick past, and still no one could be seen coming out of their front door.

***

第二天天麻麻亮，起早的老头们三三五五在院子里练太极拳。

　　「老太爷起得早！练拳啦！我是新搬来的，小姓张，张劳民，是个干部。今后少不了要麻烦大夥儿啦！」

　　被称老大爷的姓许，是就近杂货铺的掌柜，回头一看，说吓倒没吓著，亏得昨天门缝里垫了个底，只喘了一口大气，顺带地「呵」了一声；

　　「同志！您也起得早啊！您别客气，新搬来，有甚么不方便，缺什么，说一声，上家随便取来用。今后大伙都是一家人啦！啊！小姓许，许进宝，吓！这名字几十年前老辈人起的，难听，旧思想，．．．」

「老人家别在意，我想打听一下，咱们中院的厕所在哪！『倒盆』是不是也在那儿？」

　「哪！哪！靠南往里拐就是，可惜就是一个，男女通用，不方便得很，尤其早上，大伙都往那赶。这会儿您别去，刚好进入，这人叫刘法全，旧书铺的老伙计，闹痔疮，没半个钟头出不来。我看，您出大门上公厕去吧！闻味止步，保险没错。」

　　「好！谢谢啦！」张老闷三步做两步走，穿前院，出大门，向红太阳升起的东方奔去。嗯！槐树！是这儿哪！味道正。

***

Bright and early the next day, the old folks got up as usual at daybreak for their Taiji practice in the courtyard.

“This old gentleman got up early! To do Taiji!—I have just moved in, my lowly name is Zhang Laomin, I work as a government official. You will definitely not be inconvenienced by me from now on!”

The person addressed as ‘old gentleman’ was called Xu, he was the owner of a nearby corner shop. When he turned his head and saw Fat Zhang, he tried unsuccessfully to hide his alarm (last night, he had been stuffing rags into the gaps under the door to block out the noise of Fat Zhang's snoring), but momentarily only managed to utter a strangled gasp.

At last, he managed to reply: “Comrade, you get up early, too! No need to be so formal! You just moved in, if you got any problems, need anything, just say so, we are happy to help you out. Now, you are one of the family! My name is Xu, … um, Xu Jinbao, ah ... － my surname came up some decades ago, some of my forebears did some embarrassing things...”　

“Never mind, old friend! I just need to know, in our courtyard, where is the toilet? And might there be a bath, too?”

“Um, um... it’s just round this corner, but unfortunately, there is only the one, men and women use it, it’s not up to standard. And especially early in the morning, because everyone wants to get in first. It is occupied right now, his name is Liu Faquan, he’s got the secondhand bookshop. He has trouble with his hemorrhoids and  won’t be out for another half and hour. Let’s see .., why don’t you go to the public toilet through the big gate? The smell will tell you when you get there, but the hygiene is not too bad.”

“Great, thank you!”

Fat Zhang hurried through the front courtyard, and out the big gate, he rushed towards the Red Sun Rising In The East.

Ah! A locust tree! Here we are. The smell was right, too.

***

男公共厕所一字畅开，八口眼；女公共厕所几口眼，张老闷永不知道。

　　公厕里这么早已经蹲了五位街坊，来不及细瞧，倒是老、小、农、工、兵、学、商都齐了。中间偏西幸好还有三口眼，张老闷儿一脚跨在当中，左右各留一眼，正好安排蹲下去的尺码。

　　早先就位的这五个街坊，原来正笑声喧哗，猛见闯进这么一位巨汉，连叫一声妈的机会都来不及，给噎住了。沉默，一种北京人特有的冷场。

　　在这里请容许我稍微地介绍一下真正的北京人是个什么特殊材料造成的，如何善于沉默的前因后果。

***

The door to the men’s public toilet was open for business, it had eight places (Zhang would never know how many places there were in the ladies’). This early in the morning, there were already five neighbours squatting in a row, and those who arrived later were scrutinised carefully.

This was the place where everyone, whether young or old, rich or poor, farmers, workers, soldiers, businessmen－all came for a daily visit.

Fortunately, on the western side were three more places. Fat Zhang stepped in cautiously, eyes darting left and right. There was just enough room for him to take up position and squat down. Before he came in, those five neighbours had been chatting and laughing amongst each other. When they saw a huge man rush inside, all speech immediately ceased. An awkward silence settled over the place, a silence which was characteristic for the inhabitants of Beijing.

***

在座的街坊，有两个早该起身回家的，也彷佛心事重重地蹲著一动不动。他们既不嘻皮笑脸，也不东张西望，那种一声不出的专注虔诚，十足令人感动。

　　大伙很少有机会见识即将来临的场面，所以他们运用耳朵在耐心守候。[…]

说时迟、那时快；门外又窜进一位街坊。眼见张老闷儿左右还有两个空缺却插不进身，急了：

　　「喂！我说胖大爷！您瞧您这盘棋这么个摆法，您让我这颗棋子怎么下？」

　　张老闷儿还没来得及答话，左右等热闹听的街坊眼看就要给耽误了，齐齐地嚷起来：

　　「－－你这不是存心给胖大爷做难是不是？有本事冲胖大爷挤呀！不是还有两口眼吗？来呀！挤呀！上呀！」说完还笑。

　　那人二话没说，系好裤带跑了。

***

Of the neighbours present, two would soon be ready to rouse themselves and return home, but today it seemed as if a heavy weight had settled on them, and they stayed transfixed where they were.

This kind of earnest, single-minded speechlessness really is impressive. Only a few people ever get the opportunity to observe this in real life, so everyone listens and waits patiently. […]

Fat Zhang meanwhile had already taken up position, undone his leather belt,

the waistband of his trousers, finally untying the string holding up his underpants... He was deeply familiar with the silence around him: Like on a battlefield, both enemies quiety scheming to outwit the other… […]

Suddenly, another neighbour rushed in the door. He realised immediately that there were—in theory—two empty places on either side of Fat Zhang, but that practically there was no room for him to squeeze in. He barked: “Hey, big uncle! The way you have set up your chessboard may be very convenient for yourself,

but where do I play?"

Before Zhang could think of an answer, his hitherto silent companions collectively intervened: "You seem to have set your mind on giving Big Uncle a hard time! There are still two spots free, so there is no need to crowd him out! Come on, squeeze in!"

They were laughing merrily now.

That man, without another word, pulled his trousers back up and ran out. 

Fish 鱼

Fishes were a major source of food for the river-dwelling Chinese in Neolithic times: fishing implements and discarded carp bones were found at excavation sites dated to 5000 to 4000 BCE. Their cultural significance is attested by fish motives painted on pottery from the same time, Lindqvist* remarks that fish was then probably a totem animal or fertility symbol.

The early form of the character for fish appears prolifically on the ‘oracle bones’ and bronze inscriptions of the Shang Dynasty (1600–1046 BCE), for example:

While I do not know in which connection fish appeared on these old scripts, Carr’s* discussion on fish during the Warring States period suggests that fish was then regarded as suitable for ancestral sacrifices, which I presume means that it was highly regarded, as ‘food for the ancestors’.  

This high regard for fish, and for carp in particular, has been preserved into contemporary times. Today, images of carps are displayed on Chinese New Year because they are believed to convey wealth,  due to the similarity between the words/characters for fish  ‘鱼’, and for abundance or surplus  ‘余’, which are both pronounced ‘yú’ (this kind of correlation between similar-sounding words is quite common in Chinese).

Regarding fish as a symbol of wealth, Eberhard* says that “even in the very oldest Chinese literature we find the belief attested that an abundance of fish in the waters foretold a good harvest.”

* References:

Lindqvist, C. 2008. China: Empire Of The Written Symbol. Cambridge: DeCapo Press, pp. 71-2.

Eberhard, W. 1983. A Dictionary of Chinese Symbols. London and New York: Routledge, p. 35.

Carr, Michael. 1993. ‘Tiao-Fish through Chinese Dictionaries’. In Sino-Platonic Papers. Online. Accessed on 13 ‎April ‎2012, available at sino-platonic.org/complete/spp040_chinese_lexicography.pdf 

Root Metaphors and Complementary Pairs

Metaphors which are centrally significant in a culture or community – they appear frequently and represent socially important, contentious and/or otherwise emotionally ‘loaded’ concepts – are called root metaphors (for a more in-depth treatment, see i.e. Lakoff * 1980 or 1987). According to Barbara Allen*, European-based root metaphors originate in Christian religious mythology, while those of China are often derived from the natural world.

Root metaphors can occur in complementary pairs. The relationship between the two entities which make up the pair is, again, specific to the world-views and ideas of a cultural group -  without knowledge of their historical, mythological or religious backgrounds they can be cross-culturally incomprehensible.

In Chinese philosophy and folklore, water as a natural phenomenon has been a centrally significant root metaphor at least since the time of the Daodejing道德经 (ca. 4^th to 6^th century BCE*), and continues to be used as such until today. It also forms complimentary pairs with a number of concepts, for example,

 

 

山水 can be found in a vast array of meanings which mirror a relationship between two  opposing entities: high and low, hard and soft, static and flexible are some of them. Also, 山水 has become a style of landscape painting which tries to achieve a natural balance between the two elemental forces of hard, immutable stone and soft, yielding water. -- Fire and water 水火 also stand in opposition to each other, based on the ancient theory of the Five Elements 五行, which postulates that these two elements may under certain circumstances oppose each other in a dramatic and destructive conflict (hopefully, I will get around to explain this in more detail later on). Consequently, 水火 together means ‘conflict’ or ‘extreme suffering’ in Chinese culture.

In the following post I will outline the relationships between the complementary pair of fish and water.

* References:

Lakoff, G. and M. Johnson. 1980. Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: Uni of Chicago Press.

Lakoff, G. 1987. Women, Fire and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About The Mind. Chicago: Uni of Chicago Press.

Allan, S. 1997. The Way of Water and Sprouts of Virtue. Albany: State University of New York Press.

      

As Happy As Fish In Water In Ancient China 在中国古代如鱼得水

Chinese fish charm. 

The ancient philosopher Zhuangzi (ca. 2nd cent. BCE) apparently took it as a given that fish are happy. Michael Carr tells us about a debate between Zhuangzi and his friend Huizi (惠施, c. 370-310 BCE): “Can humans know the happiness of fish?”. Similar references to fish and happiness can also be found in other Chinese classics, for example the Shijing (诗经, the ‘Classic of Poetry’), according to Carr.

So, why did the ancient Chinese believe that fish are happy? This is one of many questions which came up while I was studying Chinese language and culture. The reason for exploring the historical connection between fish and happiness was the Chinese four-character idiom or chengyu which is still in use today: 如鱼得水 (lit. like-fish-get-water) which is usually translated into English as ‘(happy) like fish in water’. While the meanings of the two expressions are reasonably similar, however, it is important to realise that they differ as much as anything that can be ‘translated’ between Chinese and English, that is to say, heaps. The semantic subtleties of one language compared to another are not easy to quantify or explain, but in order for a Westerner to understand Chinese, one needs to at least make a good stab at it.

The following is an overview of what I found.

Water

To understand fish, it is first necessary to look at the significance and symbolism of water in Chinese culture, and how this differs from Western ideas. In China, because of specific geographical and climatic conditions, humans experienced water in a much more dramatic way:

The ecology of the Chinese—their adaptation to the physical environment—has influenced their culture in many ways. Life on the great river floodplains has always been a hard life. “Heaven nourishes and destroys” is an ancient saying. On the broad stretches of the plain the patient Chinese farmers were at the mercy of the weather, dependent upon Heaven’s gift of sun and rain. They were forced to accept natural calamity in the form of drought, flood, pestilence, and famine. This is in striking contrast to the lot of Europeans, who lived in a land of variegated topography. People in the West, either on the Mediterranean or on the European continent, were never far from a water supply... Fairbank 2006, p. 17 *

The Chinese were more ‘at the mercy of the weather’ because of the characteristics of their physical environment:   

....90 per cent of China is covered by mountains... As a result, Chinese have historically been crowded into river valleys and coastal regions, as well as the plains formed by river deltas. Chinese society and culture exist within the landscape of Chinese topography, a topography of mountains and rivers. Goulde *

The mountainous parts of China are generally harsh and inhospitable, while the river flats offered wide stretches of fertile farmland and a good supply of water, and that is where people settled. However, the great rivers flooded regularly throughout known history, occasionally spectacularly and dramatically: The widespread floods in China in one year, 1931, alone, killed about 4 million people* (Wikipedia 1931_China_floods.htm). Often, there seemed to be either too much, or else too little water – flood or drought – and not enough of a balance in between.

Nevertheless, these harrowing experiences did not persuade the Chinese to regard water as treacherous or destructive. On the contrary, from antiquity until now it has been seen as a powerful natural force, but not necessarily an adverse one. In the ancient philosophical writings like the Zhuangzi, or the Kongzi, water is portrayed as beneficial to humankind, as a symbol for purity and naturalness, and as an example of how humans should conduct themselves. For example, in the Laozi (written during the Warring States Period, 403-222 BCE), water was repeatedly used as a metaphor for the highest philosophical ideal, the Dao 道itself. Water as a metaphor occupies a central role in the text:

上善若水。
水善利万物而不争、
处众人之所恶。
故几於道。

“The highest good is like water:
It benefits the ten thousand creatures; yet it does not strain,
but is content with the places that humans disdain.
This is why water is so near to the Way.” *

Laozi
(Dao De Jing I. 8. trans. Waley, with minor changes by Martina)

Water as a metaphor continues to be relevant in contemporary discourse. The example below depicts water as a force which will overpower those who are seen as working against the good of mankind. This is a political news text from the 1990s:  

李登辉背逆历史潮流,“两国论”不过是个逆向漩涡,  
Li Denghui [name] is resisting the currents of history, [but] his idea of ‘Two Chinas’ is merely [like] a vortex of water twisting in the opposite direction,

根本阻挡不了奔腾不息的潮流滚滚东去... *

he is  fundamentally unable to check the surge which continues rolling eastwards.

Here, the PRC media is rhetorically shredding the then leader of Taiwan, Li Denghui, because he has endorsed the ‘Two China’ policy (which advocates independence of Taiwan from China), a policy which is strongly opposed by Mainland China. The sentence excerpt uses a great number of water metaphors to undermine Li’s political authority by  

• presenting a ‘current of history’ (历史潮流) as a powerful and uncontrollable force which will inevitably draw Taiwan towards its Chinese ‘motherland’, and by
• depicting Li as a pathetic, weak and isolated human who is greatly overestimating his own power but will soon be helplessly swept aside by these mighty currents.

The water-related expressions are, loosely translated:
逆...潮流 ‘to go against the current’
逆向漩涡 ‘to go against [the direction of] a vortex, or a whirlpool’
潮流滚滚 ‘a rolling current’

The main semantic differences between water as is used in Laozi, and as is used in the contemporary news text are, in brief:

= for Laozi, water is an entirely positive force imbued with the Dao, simultaneously all-powerful and inherently yielding, and therefore an appropriate model for humans on the Daoist ‘way’;
= the news text portrays water as a force which is not controllable by and immensely destructive to those humans who work against its ‘natural’ current. 

Both have in common the notion of water as immensely powerful, and that this power relates directly to human values and endeavours (with most instances of the water metaphor throughout history).

This was a brief introduction to water in Chinese cultural thought. I will add further relevant aspects in time.


* References:
Fairbank, J. K. and M. Goldman. 2006. China: A New History. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, p. 17.
Goulde, J. 1999. Water in Classical Chinese Religion: Taoist Alchemy. Honors Seminar Material. Online. Accessed on 8 May 2011
Wikipedia. 2011. 1931 China Floods. Online. Accessed on 8 May 2011, available at http://en.wikipedia.org/1931_China_floods.htm
Wengu - Chinese Classics. Dao De Jing. Tr. A. Waley, 1931. Online. Accessed on 8 May 2011, available at http://wengu.tartarie.com/wg/wengu.php?l=Daodejing&no=0

Carr, Michael. 1993. ‘Tiao-Fish through Chinese Dictionaries’. In Sino-Platonic Papers. Online. Accessed on 13 ‎April ‎2012, available at sino-platonic.org/complete/spp040_chinese_lexicography.pdf

The text example cited above is from:
Cheng, Xiaojing. 2009. Chinese Metaphors in Political Discourse: How the Government of the People’s Republic of China Criticizes the Independence of Taiwan. PhD Thesis. Online. Accessed on 06 March 2011, available at http://cardinalscholar.bsu.edu/771/1/Xcheng_2009-3_BODY.pdf