The portrayal of rural life and the inner turmoil of the character Liên through the pen of Thạch Lam in the short story Two Children

The depiction of rural life and the emotional state of the character Liên through the narrative of Thạch Lam in the short story Two Children
 

I. Outline The portrayal of rural life and the emotional state of the character Liên in Two Children
 

1. Introduction

- Brief overview of the author Thạch Lam.

- Introduction to Two Children with the depiction of rural life and the portrayal of Liên's inner emotions.
 

2. Body

a. The Rural Scene at Dusk:

* Nature's Picture:
- Sounds: The buzz of mosquitoes, the croaking of frogs softly resonating, the distant drumbeat of the approaching night, evoking a sense of slow, melancholic twilight, enhancing the quietness and dullness of the evening.
- Colors: Two vivid shades of red, a hint of pink bringing forth subdued emotions, signaling the decline of a day, the last flicker of light before darkness sets in, before the blackness of night envelops the landscape.

* Activities in the Desolate Market Scene:
- The sound of 'noise disappeared', accompanied by the image of 'only rubbish left on the ground, grapefruit peels, banana peels, and sugar cane leaves', along with the scene of a few children rummaging, picking up the remaining debris after the market.
=> Portraying a desolate, melancholic atmosphere, a feeling of decay, impoverishment, and destitution.
- The smell of 'dampness rising...' evokes poverty, dampness, and melancholy.
- Lives of desperation: poor children at the market, the mother and daughter Tí, the old lady Thi somewhat mad, addicted to alcohol, with haunting laughter, sisters Liên, An, the silhouette of a struggling mother, hardship.
=> The commonality among all the people in that rural town is poverty, with their lives being simple, dull, impoverished, gloomy, and stagnant. 

* Liên's Soul Portrait:
- Subtle and sensitive soul:
+ Liên's perception of the 'damp smell rising, the daytime heat mingling with the familiar scent of dust, making Liên think it's the unique smell of the land, of this homeland'. => Feeling intimate, close, bonded, and deeply affectionate.
+ Witnessing the night falling before her eyes, 'her eyes filled with darkness gradually and the sadness of the rural evening seeped into Liên's innocent soul'.
=> Sensing deeply the sadness of the fading scenery seeping into her tender soul, making her ponder like an adult.
- Kind-heartedness, love of Liên towards the impoverished souls in the rural town.
+ For Tí and her children, it's care, concern shown through compassionate looks, empathy, pity for their tough lives as Liên narrates their circumstances.
+ For the children near the market, it's pity, a sense of helplessness as she herself is poor, unable to help these poor children.
+ For the crazy old lady Thi, with her haunting laughter, Liên feels a bit scared but still shows care, not just in words but through actions. 

b. The Rural Scene at Night:

* Nature's Picture:
- Constructed with two contrasting shades, a characteristic technique of romantic literature, evoking a scene that leaves an impression in the reader's heart.
- 'streets and alleys filled with darkness', 'completely dark, the road to the river, the road home from the market, the alleys into the village even darker'.
=> Darkness prevails everywhere, enveloping everything, becoming denser by the moment.
- Light: 'slits of light' seeping out from houses, 'glowing rings' swaying on Tí's lamp, then the 'flickering lights' of small lamps, the faint light of Uncle Siêu's fireplace. Stars, fireflies.
=> Weak, flickering, fragile, not strong enough to illuminate.
=> Those flickering lights only intensify the endless darkness, the endless stagnation of this rural town, symbolizing the fragile, transient lives in the town, while darkness symbolizes the stagnation, confinement, and darkness of the old society, devouring the lives of the poor, weak.  

* Activities in the Scene:
- Bác Xẩm and his wife with the 'sound of the monochord echoing in silence', their child crawling outside playing with dirt, impoverished and wretched.
- Tí sitting, waving a dry banana branch to shoo away flies, painting a scene of a deserted, quiet, and dim-witted shop.

* Liên's Mood:
- Sensing the subtle emotions amidst the living scenes around, it's an intriguing imagination when looking up at the starry sky with sparkling stars and firefly trails, thinking about a distant fairy tale world.

- Observing very meticulously, keenly detecting the changes in life through the details of various light sources with different shapes, sizes, and shades.
- Dreaming of a better life, manifested in the girl always turning towards the light, longing for the lights present in the rural town, reminiscing about the lights in Hanoi.

c. The Rural Scene Upon Arrival and Departure of the Train:

* Upon Arrival of the Train:
- The train appears with sounds of 'clatter, strong grinding on the tracks', 'noisy murmurs of passengers softly', 'blaring whistle and the train roaring forward', all these sounds are truly lively and bustling, contrasting sharply with the dull, slow sounds of the countryside.
- The vigorous movements 'the train roaring forward', 'the convoy whizzing by' also bring a different tone compared to the sporadic, slow, gentle, and weary movements of the rural town.

* Upon Departure of the Train:
- That passing train left a lot of emotions in the girl's heart, Liên thinks about Hanoi, because that train from the capital to here brought a glimpse of a different world, a world Liên always dreams of.
- Today's train seems dimmer than yesterday => Life seems increasingly stagnant and difficult
- Liên begins to return to reality, 'only late night, the sound of night watch drums and barking dogs', continuing a scene of silence, the night thickens. And the people are scattered, slowly packing up to leave, sad, tired => Silent, tedious, and stagnant, darker.

3. Conclusion

Expressing general sentiments.

II. Sample Essay The portrayal of rural life and the emotional state of the character Liên in Two Children
 

1. Rural Scene and Liên's Emotions in Two Children, Model 1 (Standard):

Thạch Lam (1910-1942), a member of the Self-Reliance Literary Group, was known for his gentle, serene, and delicate personality, reflected in his works characterized by simplicity, depth, and profundity. He excelled in short stories, often exploring the beauty of ordinary life in the rural outskirts, which was the familiar environment of his childhood in the challenging district of Cẩm Giàng, Hải Dương province. Those days left an indelible mark, becoming an artistic space that frequently reappeared in many of Thạch Lam's works. Artistically, he often wrote 'stories without stories,' where the allure lay in the complex inner world of humans, as the author sought to discover the delicate, vague, and refined emotions. This unique artistic style turned Thạch Lam's works into melancholic poems, imbued with profound poetry within each word. Two Children, part of the collection Sunlight in the Garden (1938), stands out as one of his best works, fully embodying Thạch Lam's distinctive approach to short story writing. The main theme of the work revolves around the rural scene and the emotional portrayal of the character Liên, whose deep and special emotions stand out against the bleak and dark backdrop of the rural landscape at dusk and nightfall.

Entering the work, the first thing that strikes the reader is the rural scene at dusk, where the natural setting begins with Liên's melancholic mood in the twilight moment, unveiling a sad and desolate scenery. Whether it is the scene seeping into the soul of the person or the soul influencing the scene as Nguyễn Du wrote, 'The sorrow of the person, is there any joy ever?' it is known that the sadness of both the person and the scene is balanced and harmonized, creating a poetic melancholic hue. In the work, Thạch Lam perceived the natural scene through both visual and auditory senses, with each sentence revealing a new scene, with the preceding sentence calling for the next. The dusk scene is opened with sounds ranging from soft to loud, starting with 'the mosquitoes began to buzz' in the dimly lit shop, further away 'the frogs croaked in the fields following the gentle breeze,' and finally enveloping the entire space, signaling the official moment of dusk with 'the drum sounds from the small district guardhouse, each beat announcing the evening.' All these sounds, though noisy and disrupting the space, do not bring a sense of joy and excitement; instead, they evoke a very calm, quiet space, conveying the melancholic feeling of the evening twilight. This somewhat brings to mind the Eastern poetry technique of using dynamic to describe static in poetry, using sharp movements to describe the stillness enveloping everything. These perceptions of the visual and auditory senses are not only limited to images and colors but also appear very artistically, bearing the style of painting through the meticulous observation of the author. The scene 'The village bamboo range in front turned black and clearly outlined against the sky' brings a gloomy feeling, evoking very clear perceptions of the transitional moment between day and night, the sky slightly bright due to the sunset, while the bamboo range is darkly imprinted against the sky, like a unique painting with dark colors, evoking an extremely desolate, melancholic feeling. Besides perceptions of the auditory and visual senses, the dusk natural scene is subtly evoked by the slow, richly musical, and image-rich rhythmic sentences, synthesizing these elements to create a gentle, peaceful scene typical of Vietnamese villages. Additionally, Thạch Lam's descriptions do not focus on intricate, stylized elements but bear a simple, authentic quality, depicting the spirit and soul of the rural scene.

Set against the backdrop of the twilight rural scene is the depiction of human activities in the township, including the scene of a desolate market. While the natural scene above is perceived through the senses of hearing and sight, in the desolate market scene, the author also perceives through the sense of smell to provide deep and unique sensations. The desolate market is portrayed with a single sound: 'the noise also disappeared,' returning the town to a calm and melancholic atmosphere. Alongside this is the image of 'only rubbish, grapefruit peels, orange peels, and sugar cane leaves left on the ground,' along with the sight of children rummaging through, picking up the remaining trash after the market, looking extremely pitiful, evoking a deep sense of pity in people's hearts. Thus, the rural scene at twilight not only conveys a melancholic and desolate atmosphere but also evokes a sense of decay, desolation, and poverty, leaving a haunting memory of the darkness of rural Vietnam at that time. Perhaps the highlight of the desolate market scene lies in Thạch Lam's olfactory perceptions: 'a damp smell rose, a blend of the daytime heat and the familiar sand dust smell, making Liên think it was the scent of the land, of this homeland.' It is clearly not a pleasant, refreshing smell; however, in Liên's sensitive perception, in her love and attachment to the township, to the land she has been attached to for some time, she feels it is very familiar, intimate, attached, and deeply loved. Another detail that demonstrates this character's sensitivity is her feeling when witnessing the nightfall 'Liên's eyes gradually filled with darkness, and the sadness of the rural evening seeped into her innocent soul.' For a 9-year-old child, perhaps sadness is still very vague, but for Liên, she feels it deeply, the sadness of the twilight scene gradually seeping into her tender soul, making her ponder like an adult. Whether the sadness of the scene casts a shadow of sadness over people or whether Liên's soul is inherently sad, making the twilight scene become both gloomy and poetic like that. Besides the sensitivity in perceiving the twilight scene, Liên's sensitivity is also shown through her compassionate, loving heart towards the desolate people in the township. Towards Mrs. Tí and her daughter, it is concern, inquiry, compassionate looks, empathy, and pity for their difficult lives through Liên's narration of their circumstances. Then, for the poor children by the market, it is a feeling of pity and helplessness because Liên herself is poor, unable to help those poor children. Or towards the mad old woman, with her haunting laughter, Liên feels a bit scared but still gives her attention, not from words but from actions. The way she pours a full cup of wine for the old woman as a habit, showing kindness, reflects Liên's heart towards an unfortunate elderly person, especially the scene of Liên watching the old woman's shadow fade into the night, showing pity, compassion for a desolate, miserable life.

Standing out against the backdrop of the twilight rural scene with the desolate market and the desolate people is the portrayal of the soul of the character Liên, the main character of the work. Liên is a girl with a sensitive and delicate soul, which is reflected through the changes in her soul when witnessing the changes of nature in the twilight moment. Firstly, in Liên's perception of 'a damp smell rising, a blend of the daytime heat and the familiar sand dust smell, making Liên think it was the scent of the land, of this homeland.' Faced with such an unpleasant, uncomfortable smell, but in Liên's perception, in her love and attachment to the township, to the land she has been attached to for some time, she feels it is very familiar, intimate, attached, and deeply loved. Additionally, another detail that demonstrates the character's sensitivity is her feeling when witnessing the nightfall 'Liên's eyes gradually filled with darkness, and the sadness of the rural evening seeped into her innocent soul.' For a 9-year-old child, perhaps sadness is still very vague, but for Liên, she feels it deeply, the sadness of the twilight scene gradually seeping into her tender soul, making her ponder like an adult. Whether the sadness of the scene casts a shadow of sadness over people or whether Liên's soul is inherently sad, making the twilight scene become both gloomy and poetic like that. Besides the sensitivity in perceiving the twilight scene, Liên's sensitivity is also shown through her compassionate, loving heart towards the desolate people in the township. Towards Mrs. Tí and her daughter, it is concern, inquiry, compassionate looks, empathy, and pity for their difficult lives through Liên's narration of their circumstances. Then, for the poor children by the market, it is a feeling of pity and helplessness because Liên herself is poor, unable to help those poor children. Or towards the mad old woman, with her haunting laughter, Liên feels a bit scared but still gives her attention, not from words but from actions. The way she pours a full cup of wine for the old woman as a habit, showing kindness, reflects Liên's heart towards an unfortunate elderly person, especially the scene of Liên watching the old woman's shadow fade into the night, showing pity, compassion for a desolate, miserable life.

Continuing from the twilight scene in the township, the nightfall scene unfolds, constructed by the author with contrasting light and dark hues, a characteristic technique of romantic literature, evoking an impression in the reader's mind. Darkness in the township is depicted through the imagery of 'streets and alleys filled with darkness,' 'completely dark, the road leading to the river, the road from the market back home, the lanes into the village even darker.' With just these two sentences, readers can imagine the presence of darkness everywhere, enveloping everything, becoming denser with each passing moment. Against this dense black backdrop, there is the appearance of light from various sources, including the light from 'cracks' escaping from the houses, 'halos' dancing on Mrs. Tí's lamp, and then the 'faint glimmers' of the dim, feeble lanterns. Then there is the light from Uncle Siêu's noodle cart, with the fire illuminating a sandy area, faint and dim. Then there's the sparkling light of the stars, the streaks of light from fireflies also contributing to the light source in the night in the township. All these varying degrees and forms of light share a common trait: fragility, feebleness, fragility, not enough to illuminate the night, penetrate the night, as if being swallowed up by the darkness. Those flickering lights only intensify the endless darkness, the bleakness, and the stagnation of the night in this township. Thạch Lam wants to convey a meaning that light symbolizes the humble, fragile, and fleeting lives in the township, while darkness symbolizes the stagnant, entangled, and vast darkness of the old society, swallowing up the poor, weak lives.

In the twilight scene of the township, there is also the appearance of desolate lives, impoverished, that is the husband and wife, Uncle Xẩm, with the 'sound of the bàu bầu reverberating in silence,' the child then crawling outside, playing with dirty garbage, a pitiful, miserable sound, evoking the poor, miserable life of the couple. Mrs. Tí sits holding a dry banana branch, swatting flies, depicting a scene of a deserted, silent, and dim shop. In addition, there is the character of Uncle Siêu with his smoky noodle cart, with the fire burning brightly in the dark night, but such exquisite delicacies appearing in this poor township can hardly stand out because no one has the money to enjoy them. It becomes an elusive dream for the residents here and also becomes the reason why the stalls are deserted, dull, no different from Mrs. Tí and Uncle Xẩm's plight. As for Liên and her sister, they are confined to the shabby stall, unable to integrate into the fun like other children, day after day, bored on the verge of collapse on the nearly broken bamboo cot. And amidst such a bleak, stagnant scene, there is a glimmer of light 'at that moment, people in the darkness hope for something bright for their daily poor lives,' it is a dream of a better life, but very vague.

In the nightfall scene of the township, the soul portrait of the character Liên emerges with two main highlights. First is the subtle sensitivity to the surrounding living scenes, the interesting imagination when looking up at the starry sky full of sparkling stars with the flickering lights of fireflies, thinking of a distant fairytale world. Then there is the meticulous observation, keenly detecting the changes in life in the details of various light sources with different shapes, sizes, and shades. In addition to that, the sensitivity, delicacy in Liên's soul is also shown in the dream of a better life, expressed in the fact that the girl always looks towards the light source, towards the lights present in the township, remembering the light in Hanoi, finally searching for the bright light on the night train, to escape from the dark world, the stagnation in the township.

And the final painting that Thạch Lam constructed is the township scene when the train arrives and passes through. That night train journey is not just the anticipation, the longing of Liên and An every night, but also of all the impoverished people in the township. So as soon as there were the first signs, Uncle Siêu hastily exclaimed with a joyful tone 'Look, the train lanterns are already out there.' Then the train whistle prolonged by the distant wind, 'a burst of white smoke rising from afar.' When the train arrived, both Liên and An stood up, eyes following where the train was coming with extreme excitement and fascination. The train appears with sounds like 'the thumping, loud rumbling, passengers' noisy whispers,' 'the whistle blowing and the train roaring forward,' all truly vibrant and lively sounds completely different from the dull, slow sounds in the township. Along with the sounds, the arriving train also brings very powerful movements 'the train roaring forward,' 'the convoy speeding by,' also bringing a completely different vibe from the sporadic, slow, gentle, and weary movements of the township. Most notably, the image of the train appearing with a type of light 'bright carriage lights, shining down on the road... glittering fields, and bright glass doors' is completely different from the dim, feeble light, each grain, each streak, each gap emanating from the small oil lamps or the burning wood stoves. That light is truly radiant light, along with the contrast of wealth and prosperity compared to the darkness, poverty in the township, it brings back memories in Liên's mind of a civilized capital region, of the prosperous childhood life she once enjoyed, bringing back beautiful memories of a bygone era. Then when the train passed by, the two children kept staring at it until the last signs of the train disappeared into the night. After that regretful look, Liên begins to wander in her thoughts. That passing train has left many emotions in her heart, Liên thinks of Hanoi because that train from the capital to here has brought a bit of another world, a world that Liên always dreams of. However, today's train seems dimmer than yesterday, it seems that life is increasingly stagnant and difficult, even Liên can feel that. Then after moments of reverie, Liên begins to return to reality, looking around 'only the late night, the sound of drumming and barking dogs,' continuing a deserted scene, a dense night. As for the people, they are sluggish, slowly packing up to go home, sad, tired. It seems like the passing train is like a shooting star full of hope, but after passing, it returns to a world even more silent, mundane, and stagnant, darker.

Reading through 'Two Children,' one doesn't see any clear storyline, yet what attracts the reader most is the portrayal of the impoverished township through various time frames, through subtle, romantic changes tinted with melancholy. Emerging on that canvas is the image of Liên with a very sensitive soul with vague emotions, a rich inner world, along with desires towards light, towards a better life, very much to be cherished. However, dreaming alone is not enough, one needs to do something more to realize that dream, which leaves the reader with feelings of perplexity, pondering about the fate of the poor souls in the township. When will they be able to achieve their dreams, can Liên and An have a better life?

2. The township scene and the mood of the character Liên in the short story 'Two Children', model 2:

Thạch Lam is a mature pen in the Self-Reliance Literary Group with a writing style that cannot be confused with any other writer. His writings are gentle, profound, evocative, and guiding. They are like whispered confessions but have a haunting effect on the reader. The stories he tells often have no plot because everything is written with the lightest and deepest material. 'Two Children' is one such story. This short story has painted a picture of the impoverished township with poor, difficult lives in society.

Thạch Lam always makes readers perceive the subtlety in the soul, in the sentences. The gentleness has made a unique feature in Thạch Lam's literature. 'Two Children' is a story revolving around the lives of An and Liên in the poor township with monotonous daily routines. Through these two characters, the author wants to convey many messages about life, about the hardships that people have gone through.

The material backdrop for the main story is the scene of the impoverished township always looming, hidden in every page. Perhaps it is this painting that inspires Thạch Lam to express his emotions. And perhaps this is the impoverished township of Cẩm Giàng - where he was born and raised.

The scene of the poor township emerges in the first sentences 'Autumn drums sound on the small town's market, each beat echoing far to call the afternoon...'. A drum beats in an almost dusk evening, and perhaps both the scenery and the people are immersed in a state of absent-mindedness. Why did the author choose an autumn afternoon to inspire the painting of the township? Autumn always evokes sadness, nostalgia, evokes the most emotions. The image of two children appearing with their daily tasks 'lighting lamps' then 'playing mandarin' and watching the train running from Hanoi back, brightening up and then falling into disappointment.

The image of the township in the late afternoon is depicted by the author through details 'The market in the middle of the town has been there for a long time. People have all gone and the noise is gone. On the ground, there are only rubbish, grapefruit peels, orange peels, lychee leaves, and sugar cane residue. A damp smell rises, the daytime heat mixed with the familiar smell of sand and dust makes Liên think of it as the smell of this land, of this homeland. Some late returning vendors are packing up their goods, the carrying poles are already inserted into the bar, and they are still standing talking to each other a few words.' That is the scene of the poor neighborhood when the day is over, a withered, faded, and the listless desolation appears before the reader's eyes. Perhaps this is the reality of that time in the northern part of our country. Everything seems unstable, without highlights, without attractions, and seemingly without life. Everything is just mundane, familiar but faintly impoverished.

The gentle, flowing sentences depict a desolate, silent space in the impoverished township. Against that gloomy backdrop, the figures of impoverished children emerge. 'Several poor children from the outskirts of the market stoop on the ground, scavenging. They pick up scraps, bits of metal, or anything usable. Liên feels compassion, but she herself has no money to give them.' A more poignant picture emerges when the impoverished people appear, seemingly doubling the poverty and hardship of this land. And the reader sees the beauty of Liên's soul, pure and noble.

In the picture of the impoverished rural village, there are many other destinies, all of which contribute to the chaos of the township in the fading afternoon. It's the image of Mrs. Tí and her children setting up their stall but 'didn't make much'. Or it's the image of Liên and her sister since moving to this impoverished township, the two of them selling goods to help their mother on a small rented stall, a torn mat with a Japanese newspaper stuck on it.

The silent, contemplative people silently watch the poverty and hunger unfold before them but can't do anything about it.

Intermixed with the materially impoverished are the images of Old Lady Thị, who is often seen buying alcohol at Liên's neighbor's shop. The sight of her 'tilting her head back to drink in one go, placing three coins into Liên's hand, and staggering away' leaves the reader feeling horrified by a grotesque, aimless life.

In the midst of this rural town, it seems everyone is eagerly awaiting a train from Hanoi to bring with it more hustle and bustle. Perhaps the arrival of the train holds great significance for the people in this area. It's as if the train carries a piece of another world with it. Maybe it's the world of past prosperity for the two sisters, a life more affluent and peaceful.

The train journey is perhaps the dream, the longing to reach towards the light for the people in this impoverished town.

'Two Children' is a gentle story, lacking dramatic situations but leaving readers haunted by the lives and the impoverished land during the years when our country was still submerged in bombs.

Above is the excerpt depicting the rural town and the emotions of the character Liên through Thạch Lam's pen in the short story Two Children. Next, you will prepare to answer the textbook questions, Realism and Romance in the short story Two Children, along with the section Analysis of Liên's mood as she stays awake every night waiting for the train to pass through the rural town in the short story Two Children, to improve your writing skills.

Sample essay: The depiction of the rural town and the character Liên's emotions in the story Two Children

3. The depiction of the rural town and the character Liên  in the short story Two Children, sample number 3:

Two Children is one of many outstanding short stories exemplifying Thạch Lam's style. The story revolves around two sisters (Liên and An), two children entrusted by their mother to manage a grocery stall in the rural town. As night falls, shadows of people drift by like faint flickers: Aunt Tý, Uncle Phở Siêu, Crazy Granny Thi, Uncle Xẩm's family. They, along with the darkness of the rural town, sow seeds of compassion in the hearts of children. Despite their sleepiness, the two sisters struggle to stay awake, waiting for the night train to pass by. The train streaks like a shooting star for a moment before everything fades into the vast darkness...

The depiction of the rural town in Two Children (and also in Mother Lê's House and Early Winter Winds) is linked to Thạch Lam's childhood memories. According to the memoirs of the Nguyễn Trường family, Nguyễn Thị Thế, Thạch Lam's older sister, recalls: 'I didn't expect Sáu (Thạch Lam) to have such a good memory, like the story he told about the two sisters staying up waiting for the night train before going to sleep. At that time, I was nine and he was eight, and our mother had entrusted our two sisters to manage the stall.' Thạch Lam's entire childhood is associated with Cẩm Giàng rural town, alongside the Hanoi - Hai Phong railway line when his father had just passed away in Sam Nưa - Laos, and his mother carried them back to their grandparents' hometown. The desolate, eerie space of the rural town haunted him, often appearing in the writings of Nhất Linh, Hoàng Đạo, and especially Thạch Lam. Time, like a magical sieve, retained many indelible marks in Thạch Lam's sensitive and empathetic soul. Creating the character Liên, Thạch Lam essentially awakened in the mind of the young An long ago to return to the rural town, where 'the murky darkness of village life under thatched roofs or deep nights in the rural town' (Thế Lữ) persisted.

The painting of the district's street life begins with a scene of a bustling market. This depiction by Thach Lam vividly portrays the stark reality of poverty and deprivation in the district. It's a sight of 'junk, discarded melon rinds, pumpkin husks, watermelon rinds, and sugar cane leaves' - a poor market with nothing to waste. Yet, there are 'a few poor children scavenging around, picking up scraps.' What a sight to behold. This detail often appears in Thach Lam's stories as a haunting childhood memory etched into the writer's 'sensitive' soul, transforming into a tender, poignant affection.

As darkness falls, while the day laborers sink into the shadows, the night workers around the makeshift train station emerge from the darkness. With a dim light, these individuals are engulfed by the shadows. They are lives in ruins, amidst the wreckage of a desolate and faded landscape.

Transitioning from dusk to nightfall, the scene shifts to a group of ragged children... wandering around... swiftly picking up items. To add to these staggering figures, the author meticulously describes the 'waste' of a poor market and the musty odor rising alongside a few latecomers exchanging random stories.

Mother and daughter, Mrs. Tí, perhaps epitomize the tumultuous, precarious life of this district. Their street stall becomes the focal point of the nocturnal hustle and bustle. By day, they gather crabs and catch shrimp, and as night falls, they set up their bamboo stand to sell drinks at the station. Knowing well that there's little to sell but still venturing out, hoping to earn a few meager coins. This isn't living, it's merely subsisting, clinging on in hopelessness. It's no coincidence that the author revisits Mrs. Tí's lamp seven times. The flickering light struggles against the darkness much like Mrs. Tí battles poverty, desolation, and melancholy. It's an image that doesn't just haunt Liên but also the author and the readers alike. Thach Lam pours countless sentiments of pity and compassion into these pages, where the image of the lamp intertwines with Mrs. Tí's fate, seeping into our dreams.

Pho Siêu's stall seems somewhat superior here because in this impoverished land, pho is considered a luxury. The sound of the cart's wheels squeaking, along with the fragrant aroma and the flickering golden flame, bring a bit of vitality to the district, only to be followed by a sigh for its lack of business.

Bac Xam's family has been sitting there for who knows how long because for them, day and night hold no significance. They live, play, and 'do business' on a tattered mat with an iron basin used to hold their father's belongings. Bac Xam contributes with a few strums of his humble guitar in silence, while his son accompanies by crawling on the ground, picking up trash to play with.

As if that weren't grim and terrifying enough, there's a person even more terrifying: Crazy Granny Thi. She appears like a shadow but lingers in the mind with her half-crazed, half-foolish laughter and the image of a woman gulping down a large cup of liquor in one go, leaving one to feel bitter for humanity's wretched, withered, and wavering existence. Who? What drives Crazy Granny Thi to such madness? Thạch Lam doesn't argue but quietly poses that question in the depths of people's souls. If life continues on this trajectory, perhaps everyone will end up half-mad, half-foolish. It's truly tragic when a woman resorts to alcohol to seek forgetfulness in bitter spirits, even more so when she can't even afford a full bottle to drown her sorrows. A large gulp of liquor down the throat is a detail so Thạch Lam - both delicate and profound, seemingly trivial yet poignant.

The stall of the Liên sisters appears tranquil amidst the bustling district. Though considered relatively affluent, it's still rather dull and dreary. A small, crooked stall with half a board covered in Japanese paper, a few packets of traditional medicine, a precarious stand... And the two children, both innocent and world-weary, are equally pitiful. Delving deeper into the circumstances and current situation of the two children, one would witness a profound 'decline,' a frightening deterioration: their father lost his job... moved back from Hanoi... rented a stall to sell...

The mundane, monotonous stories seem to repeat themselves day after day, sluggishly. The people appear and fade away like silent shadows, quietly.

Surrounded by decrepit objects: a dilapidated shop, a broken stand, a torn mat, a worn-out guitar, a cracked bowl... These people, these objects, this scenery creates the gloomy, desolate, and melancholic face of the district. Life unfolds in a relentless decay with people of unknown origin, without destiny, to the point where even the author doesn't describe their features, their faces... But perhaps that's why their fate appears even more insignificant, pitiful. Everyone quietly endures, resigned to their fate as if it were predetermined, repeated into familiarity. It's terrifying when these fleeting images play out before the innocent children like an endless cycle of despair in the district. If life doesn't change, these images will be waiting for the children ahead. The current state of the district's residents will be the future of generations like Liên, An, Mrs. Tí's children... Liên fears to look at Crazy Granny Thi partly because she's crazy, but partly because Liên fears for her own future. Will Liên become Mrs. Tí? Pho Siêu? Crazy Granny Thi?... By drawing the relationship between the two children and this district, Thạch Lam has drawn a parallel between the saplings and a world worn, withered, and faded. These saplings have sprouted from dry, barren land, bleak and desolate. How will they thrive? Save them, these innocent children! That's what Thạch Lam's heart silently whispers, to listen, to share, to console. Thus, the writer cherishes each glimmer of light with words full of tender empathy, deeply penetrating. The district and its people are enveloped in the warm, unconventional heart of a writer who lifelong yearns for a world 'more just and loving.'

Lam quietly embeds into his writings when describing the picture of the district. And perhaps that's why the stories evoke endless, lingering compassion.

It's not that the people of the district lack dreams, hopes. Without hope, humanity would have been destroyed long ago. But hope for what? 'In the darkness, people hope for something bright for their daily impoverished lives.' The hope is pitiful too - 'Something bright' - so fragile, so vague. Poverty, hardship, and misery have eroded even dreams and hopes, leaving the people here unable to lift their heads. Even the ability to deceive oneself to cling to life seems to elude them. It can be said that Thạch Lam's loving heart inclines towards these insignificant lives, listening, sharing, comforting. In this way, the writer treasures each glimmer of light with words full of tender empathy, deeply penetrating. The district and its people are enveloped in the warm, unconventional heart of a writer who lifelong yearns for a world 'more just and loving.'

On the canvas of the district's scene, the image of two children, especially Liên, emerges. The district is always within Liên's sight, the innocent yet extremely sensitive girl. Thạch Lam borrowed Liên's perspective, emotional development to express his own perceptions in memories as well as the present towards the surrounding world, thereby articulating the ideology of the work gently, discreetly yet profoundly, deeply penetrating.

It begins with Liên's sadness before a dusk. Liên 'sits quietly' allowing the entire evening to seep deeply into her soul, then 'her eyes fill with darkness. Liên doesn't understand why, but she feels a deep sadness.' The passage reads like a melancholic poem with a sweet, poignant and nostalgic undertone. In Liên's soul, there's a bit of childhood innocence and a bit of adult maturity, coupled with a hint of indefinable romanticism. Liên embodies the sensitive, delicate soul of Thạch Lam.

Liên is not only saddened by the twilight scene, but also by the withered lives and life seems like a soft, deep sigh. Seeing poor children scavenging through trash 'Liên feels compassion, but she doesn't have money to give them.' A compassionate feeling arises in Liên's soul, bitter and sorrowful, rising like the character Sơn once did in 'Early Season Cold Wind,' silently watching the impoverished children turn pale with cold.

'Darkness slowly fills' Liên's eyes and also in the doorway of her soul, the flickers of light along with the people appear in love. That love is expressed through caring greetings with Mrs. Tí, through the gesture of 'quietly pouring wine' for Crazy Granny Thi and although slightly trembling, still 'stands watching the old woman disappear into the darkness.' That love doesn't just gather around Mrs. Tí's lamp, Bac Xam's family's iron basin, Pho Siêu's noodle cart's small flame, but seems to envelop the entire scene of the district, even the small stones 'one side lit, one side dark' when night falls, the mood of Liên becomes more melancholic, restless to the point of pity.

There were times when Liên silently gazed at the 'vast, profound universe.' Its 'secrets' and strangeness' had 'wearied Liên's mind,' and Liên 'bent her gaze to the ground, to the familiar light around the lamp trembling on Mrs. Tí's broken stand.' Thus, like Thạch Lam, Liên's soul, however romantic, could not escape, could not 'forget' but always remained attached to life, to humanity.

Liên's sensitivity to life is also evident in the details: from Bac Siêu's noodle cart, Liên relives childhood memories when the family was still in Hanoi. Although 'the memories recalled aren't clear, just 'a bright area shimmering' it is the deep source of Liên's restless mood waiting for the train at the end of the story. Every night Liên waits, and every night is as eager as the first, only to sink back into a life full of darkness. Liên's waiting mood for MU is also a worn-out mood, full of pity and hope. If one is observant, a slight sigh can be heard from Liên through the detail: 'Isn't the train crowded today, sis?' (An's question). 'Liên didn't answer, tonight's train seems less crowded and seems dimmer.' Joy isn't complete, a vague worry arises. Then from tomorrow night... the night after... it's very likely there won't be that train again. What will life be like when people lose faith and hope?

The end of the work is the fading echoes 'lost in the darkness, even listening closely can't be heard anymore' only the late night, the sound of a drum and the sound of dogs biting. Mrs. Tí packs up her belongings, Bac Siêu goes into the village, 'Bac Xâm's couple sleeps soundly on a ragged mat as always.' And Liên, Liên 'rests her head on her hand, closing her eyes, Liên feels herself living amidst so much distance,' 'sinks into peaceful sleep, as peaceful as the night in the street, silent and full of darkness.' Indeed, 'a summer night as gentle as velvet' hides the suppressed sighs of countless lifetimes. Liên's sleep is a peaceful sleep that is actually full of turmoil and something heavy, sad, pitiful, making one feel restless even after reading the last lines, folding the book pages back and forth, with so much restlessness, sorrow that keeps one awake.

The author borrowed the character's mood to create an obsession that readers often feel many times Thạch Lam seems to emphasize the innocence of Liên: 'For some reason', Liên 'thought', Liên 'vaguely', Liên 'didn't understand,' Liên 'felt' herself living amidst so much distance,' ... Perhaps Liên doesn't understand, doesn't really know, but the word 'not' itself has 'trapped' the reader, leading them into the uncertainty of vagueness. Readers have drifted along with the character's mood, 'infected' by the character's vague sense of uncertainty. One lives with the character, the character's vague sadness from an unknown time. That is the magic of Thạch Lam's short story.

Liên is both like and unlike the residents of the town. Similar because she is a part of the melancholic, shadowy painting: she tidies up, contributes a few disjointed words, has a flickering light with a stall of betel nuts, soap, matches... And like the people here, those in the dark, dreary shadows quietly 'hope for something bright'...

But Liên is very different from the town's residents. She separates herself as a viewpoint of 'self-entity' unwilling to lose herself in the potential disappearing whole due to its fading, furtive nature. Liên isn't a country girl but isn't entirely urban either. In Liên, there's both simplicity and complexity, romanticism. She not only knows to lower her head to see the bright spots on the ground but also knows to release her soul to the twinkling stars to find the Milky Way. She not only gets used to looking down the dark road from the village to the riverbank but also dreams of a world full of light even though that dream is very fleeting and sometimes disappears. Liên is a child, older than An but still just a child with all the innocence of a child. But within Liên, there's also maturity, even the weariness of an adult. The blending of the two realms of light and darkness has created melancholic melodies in a sorrowful soul that invade the reader, haunt them, and evoke compassion.

Another difference of Liên from the town's residents is the longing for light. The monotonous poverty in the town may make Liên sigh, but it doesn't stop her from having dreams, aspirations for change, a brighter world. The author has listened, understood, and cherished those tiny rays of hope from humans. That is the gentle yet profound humanitarian value of the work.

Liên's compassion, Liên's mood, Liên's emotions are actually the emotions, mood, and compassion of Thạch Lam. Thạch Lam has embodied himself in the character, and through empathetic writing, he has immersed the reader into the character's inner world, where the reader will imagine, envision what the author wants to convey.