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Guidelines for Understanding the 'Solitary Outcast's Lament'
Sample Essay on Understanding the 'Solitary Outcast's Lament'
I - Introduction
1. The Author
In addition to the masterpiece 'The Tale of Kieu,' Nguyễn Du left behind many valuable Han-Nom poems in Vietnamese literature. Nguyễn Du's poetry primarily belongs to the genre of compassionate poetry. He sympathized with the poor, the hungry, and the oppressed. As a person with a noble humanitarian heart, and an artist deeply in love with beauty, his emotions and dedication focused on poems about the fate of 'talented yet ill-fated' individuals. These include Lady Kiều, the female bard of Long Thanh, and Tiểu Thanh... It can be said that valuing talent and empathizing with their tragic fate are the humanitarian spirit underlying Nguyễn Du's creative inspiration.
2. The Work
Độc Tiểu Thanh kí is a Han-Nom poem by Nguyễn Du, expressing the deep empathy of the author towards the tragic fate of Tiểu Thanh - a talented and virtuous girl with an unfortunate destiny. Tiểu Thanh was a gifted and beautiful girl who lived in the early Ming Dynasty in China. She was born into the Phùng family and married a man named Phùng. Tormented by jealousy from her husband's first wife, she died in sorrow at the age of eighteen, and her grave still lies in Co Mountain, Zhejiang. Through the remaining poems and the story of Tiểu Thanh's tragic fate, Nguyễn Du expressed his profound sympathy. Through the poem, the author also demonstrates a deep humanitarian philosophy: People should show compassion towards each other, cherish the good values of life, and not be indifferent to the pain of others. The poem also reflects the burning desire of an artist, longing for empathy, understanding, and sharing.
3. Reading Technique
Read the phonetic transcription and translated poetry: the first six lines follow a 4/3 rhythm, while the last two lines follow a 2/5 rhythm.
II - Fundamental Knowledge
Nguyễn Du's encounter with Tiểu Thanh was as fateful as Thuý Kiều's encounter with Đạm Tiên. On the Qingming Festival, why did the spring colors not come to Đạm Tiên on the mushrooms and grass:
The earth's mushrooms by the roadside.
The grass blades are half yellow, half green with sorrow.
The faded yellow grass amidst spring is truly suitable for the meeting of two people whose names are recorded in the annals of history. Nguyễn Du and Tiểu Thanh's relationship is not just the difference between yin and yang. It is also the difference in the vast expanse of time: three hundred and odd years. But it is not because of this vast distance that empathy is lacking. Nguyễn Du's Độc Tiểu Thanh kí is the voice of compassion that transcends all distances to empathize and sympathize with a human life.
Nguyễn Du's encounter with Tiểu Thanh feels like a meeting ordained by destiny. It's a rendezvous between two talented individuals deeply intertwined with literature:
West Lake's picturesque scenery turned into a desolate mound.
Disturbed by the riverside, a piece of torn paper lies.
The scene described is truly desolate. Nguyễn Du mentions a place in the first line: West Lake (located in Zhejiang Province, China), where there is Mount Cô Sơn, the place where Tiểu Thanh, a talented yet unfortunate girl, once lived. There's a sense of change perceived as the inevitable course of life's ups and downs. It's an absolute transition from the past to the present, from a garden of flowers to a desolate mound, from existence to non-existence. The phrase 'flowers withered, mound turned barren' suggests intense, relentless change: everything has changed, leaving no trace behind. Turns out the verse isn't just about life's adversities. Nguyễn Du is mourning for the beauty that has been crushed and buried. The verse merely describes a scene but evokes so much sorrow. The entire ancient story of Tiểu Thanh's suffering resurfaces. The verse speaks of private matters but also reflects the universal human heartache.
Nguyễn Du's surplus verse is truly his encounter:
A redundant verse, yet the encounter is real:
(Only paying homage to her through a volume of poems read by the window)
When alive, Tiểu Thanh composed a collection of poems (Tiểu Thanh kí) to record her loneliness and sorrow. When she tragically ended her life, her jealous rival burned most of it, leaving only a few poems behind. Therefore, the visit to mourn Tiểu Thanh didn't actually take place at Cô Sơn. Nguyễn Du's compassion transcended the barriers of time and space (only paying homage through the unfinished volume of poems). The verse continues to evoke the unfortunate fate of Tiểu Thanh. Perhaps the remnants of Tiểu Thanh kí also represent her shattered life? Shattered yet not permanently lost, shattered yet still lingering to continue harboring resentment and regret.
Tiểu Thanh, beautiful yet unfortunate, talented yet doomed. Is that the fate of those blessed with both beauty and talent? That lingering regret haunted Nguyễn Du throughout his life:
The rouge bears a grudge even in its grave,
Literature, though unburned, still carries the stigma.
These two verses succinctly encapsulate the injustice faced by Tiểu Thanh. The rouge symbolizes the injustice of beauty. Literature symbolizes the injustice of talent. These inanimate objects are personified to possess spirit and destiny, shaping the essence of Tiểu Thanh's divinity and destiny. Though the volume of poems may have been burnt, the life of Tiểu Thanh continues to echo, perpetuating lament and agony for those who share her fate. These verses are written with poignant inspiration, praising both beauty and talent.
The four verses that follow depict two shifts in sentiment. From pitying a talented girl, Nguyễn Du extends his empathy to all those blessed with talent; from empathizing with one, Nguyễn Du mourns in his own sorrow.
The grievances, the resentment of Tiểu Thanh are summarized by Nguyễn Du as the grudges, the grievances of many who share the same boat:
The resentment reaches the heavens, unanswered,
The punishment, a self-imposed burden.
The verse encapsulates myriad grievances into one unanswered question, hovering in the air without a response. Why do those with rosy cheeks encounter such profound sorrow? Why do the talented often face misfortune? The verse reflects universal compassion, the common twists of fate in life: the carefree often suffer, facing injustice and hardship. The question seems to point to despair, with no answer in sight. The resentment, the grievances, become even more poignant as a result.
Later, when visiting Tây Phương Pagoda, Huy Cận still sees the era's grievances written on the statue's impassive face:
A great question without an answer
Yet the face remains downturned till now
The two clauses also represent a personal involvement. It's the voluntary immersion of Nguyễn Du into the lives of those talented yet fated individuals: 'Destiny's injustice, I bear willingly.' The word 'I' here carries the meaning of 'myself,' 'I.' Translating it as 'guest' is inadequate. But it's not until the final two lines that the emotional narrator emerges distinctly:
Who knows three hundred years hence?
Will anyone weep for Tố Như?
The last two lines are curious, shifting unexpectedly, maintaining the narrative without losing emotional resonance. The meaning unfolds naturally and logically. Transitioning from empathy for others, Nguyễn Du shifts to self-pity. The two lines structure into a question. The question reaches for kindred spirits. It doesn't inquire about the past or present, as both are dead ends. It aims for the future. Nguyễn Du doesn't ask the heavens; he asks humanity because he still hopes to find sympathetic souls in life. For Tiểu Thanh, three hundred years later, there might be a Nguyễn Du 'moved,' wondering if in three hundred years, anyone will know and empathize with her. The verse is laden with weight. The two words 'not knowing' are full of sorrow, almost resigning. Yet the verse remains hopeful. Nguyễn Du still believes in human empathy.
Nostalgic poetry often echoes the tears shed for the departed. Nguyễn Du's poetry, however, transcends this. Remembering, cherishing the departed, the author's heart aches not only for others but also for himself and fellow artists. It serves as the source of the lofty humanitarian inspiration in the poem.
Độc Tiểu Thanh kí also encapsulates Nguyễn Du's lifelong lament. It's the poet's lament over the vicissitudes of human affairs. This lament embraces the stagnation of the 'Nguyễn Du era' (Huy Cận).
III - Connection
The Sun's Golden Threads on Nhat Le River
Standing inside the Cai Bạ Palace in Quảng Bình, Nguyễn Du gazes southward, his eyes drawn to the sprawling Cẩm La sandbank resembling a southern border dike along the Nhật Lệ River. The vast expanse of water appears pristine white. Though he hears no murmuring water, Nguyễn Du senses the spring tide surging, with spring blossoms gently drifting on the water perhaps from the Trạm source... Involuntarily, Nguyễn Du softly recites:
Saddened, he watches the new water's flow,
The drifting flowers, melancholy knowing not their destination...
The soldier Ất enters, standing rigidly. In his hands, Ất holds a small tray with a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and a plate of sesame salt. Observing Nguyễn Du's solemn demeanor, Ất nervously speaks:
- Sir, your honor, please...
- You may leave it there for me.
Ất sets the tray down on the table near the legal documents as usual and quietly exits.
It's now January 1811. Ất has been serving at the Cai Bạ Palace for nearly 21 months. Among the palace attendants, Ất is close to your honor on a daily basis. Ất ponders incessantly. Few officials live as modestly as your honor! Everyone has concubines, children in abundance, magnificent mansions, bustling servants, and harsh rebukes... I've heard that your honor was once a Dongcas scholar in the capital before coming here. Your honor seems somewhat displeased. His Majesty has once praised you, but your honor remained silent. It seems His Majesty is angry, so he has sent you here to test the loyalty and diligence of your humble servant? Whenever I deliver meals or run errands, or when your honor gifts me with a couple of coins for leisure, I hear discussions praising your honor's integrity and purity. I've heard that your honor's wife and children also suffer greatly. Last time, your honor read me two dreadful verses:
The homeland's drought has withered the flowers and colors,
Ten green children resemble tender shoots.
Ất truly hesitates... could it be?... Boldly, Ất asks:
- Your honor, are... the young masters and misses... at home?...
Nguyễn Du remained silent. Ất felt even sadder, blaming himself for unintentionally stirring up the deep human compassion. He kept thinking about those bright yet sorrowful eyes, the almost completely gray hair, the thin small bun, the sparse beard, and especially the near silent demeanor of the lord. Ất had heard many lords advance swiftly in their careers by cleverly employing cunning tactics. He regretted that the lord possessed poetic talent but made the Emperor sorrowful!
From Cai Bạ Palace, all around were mountains, rivers, and seas. Lush greenery and villages immersed in mist and smoke. Ất's hometown was in Sơn Trạch, not far, but he still missed it. The lord must also miss his homeland dearly. Seeing the lord's thoughtful expression and melancholic eyes every day, Ất felt even more sorry. Luckily, on several occasions when they visited the Roòn area, went to Liên Thuỷ, and strolled along the foot of Luỹ Thầy, Ất noticed the lord's enthusiasm for caring for the people and his passion for nature. On the way back, the lord was even more contemplative and wrote poetry. Yesterday, on the boat crossing the Gianh River to Roòn, sitting amidst the deep blue waves, the lord spoke as if delivering a somber and resentful speech:
- Look... at that far end of the white sandy beach, where the sky and water merge, is the coastal dock. Ancient dynasties once divided this river section. The old dike, now even older, holds the remnants of hundreds of battles buried in thick grass! The people on the north bank of this river still remember the old days with reluctance. They and us shared the same land, Bố Chính continent!
Ất and the soldiers listened, although they didn't understand much about the history of the Trịnh-Nguyễn conflict, they empathized with the soldiers' fate from ancient times. If the lord sympathized with the soldiers, he must have sympathized greatly with the people.
The boat docked on the northern shore. The soldiers asked to carry the luggage, but the lord insisted on walking to witness the scenery. Throughout the long journey of over ten miles, the lord alternated between admiring the Ngang Pass and gazing out at the sea. Upon reaching Roòn and completing the tasks at the local office, the lord looked at the Ngang Pass again, his face filled with deep sadness. Seeing Ất walking beside him, Nguyễn Du spoke:
- It's truly saddening for me. From here to home is only a three-day journey, yet I have to hold back homesickness for over four years! Coming here, I thought I could cross the Ngang Pass and return, but unexpectedly, I have to stay here as a guest!
Ất sighed warmly. Nguyễn Du gazed out at the sea again: The green Yến Island amidst the azure sea, the Roòn River flowing white...
One evening, while strolling at the foot of Luỹ Thầy, Ất saw an old horse grazing forlornly by the hill. He asked Nguyễn Du to take it home. Nguyễn Du hesitated:
- Goodness, its fur is coarse, its skin dry... too thin to bear it!
- Yes, yes, just... lead it home!
Nguyễn Du looked at Ất, his eyes more distant, his face even more solemn, his voice trembling, sending shivers down Ất's spine:
- It's old. It's hungry yet it seeks food on its own, without begging from anyone. It's devoted to the country, enduring countless battles, preserving its integrity. Let's not constrain and drag it home.
- Yes...
This morning, Ất accompanied the official Ngô Nhân Tĩnh to take up his post in Nghệ An. Standing on the roadside, Ất watched as the official and Ngô Nhân Tĩnh exchanged respectful bows, hesitant to part ways. After a long while, Nguyễn Du spoke:
- You've pursued politics with integrity, enduring hardships for the people, yet the heavens haven't granted you respite. In my homeland of Non Hồng, stars twinkle for your virtue. Let's raise a toast to celebrate your return to my hometown!
The farewell was simple yet profoundly moving. Ngô Nhân Tĩnh mounted his horse, bowing one last time. Ất observed the official, who appeared more refreshed than usual. His heart warmed in response.
As they journeyed back to Cai Bạ Palace, the spring sun wove its golden threads over the city walls and villages. Nguyễn Du gazed fondly at Ất.
- Say,... do you fancy poetry, Ất?
- Yes, I do!
- Then I shall gift you two lines!
- Yes, please!
Nguyễn Du leisurely recited:
Sparkling waters mirror the sky
City built in smoky hues, mountains cast golden shadows.
Listening, Ất was drawn in. He thought it was a poem written by the lord about Động Hải. The lord's heart was truly vast, amidst countless sorrows, yet he couldn't forget the beauty of Ất's homeland.
For more insights into the poem Độc Tiểu Thanh kí, you can explore: Analysis of Độc Tiểu Thanh kí by Nguyễn Du, Understanding the character Tiểu Thanh through the poem Độc Tiểu Thanh kí, The lament of Nguyễn Du in the poem Độc Tiểu Thanh kí, Analyzing Nguyễn Du's sentiments in the poem Độc Tiểu Thanh kí.
