Top 11 Essays Analyzing the Degradation Process of Chi Pheo in the Novel 'Chi Pheo' (Nam Cao)

“Who will grant me decency? How can I erase the shards of glass from my face…?” Before stabbing Ba Kien and ending his own life, Chi Pheo, the protagonist of the novel by Nam Cao, cried out these words. The story of a man seeking to reclaim his decency, to remove the shards of glass from his own face, has moved generations of readers for decades. What led this man to such a tragic state? In the short story, considered a masterpiece by Nam Cao, readers find the answer: It is the process of Chi Pheo’s degradation, from a simple, kind-hearted farmer to a corrupted individual, both mentally and physically, though his humanity still lingers.

Chi Pheo was first published in 1941, at a time when stories about peasants had become too common. In an attempt to attract more curiosity, a publisher even rebranded it as “A Perfect Match.” However, with his unique talent and creativity, Nam Cao created a distinctive narrative about the peasant’s fate. Even the title, which he later changed to Chi Pheo, evokes a phenomenon in Vietnam’s rural society before the August Revolution of 1945. The transformation from Chi to Chi Pheo tells the story of a man spiraling down into corruption, unable to stop when he realizes his fall.

It wouldn’t be unusual for someone born into unfortunate circumstances to fall into moral decay. Many prejudices, such as a lack of parental guidance or care, have long been ingrained in our thinking. But Chi’s case is different. He was unfortunate from birth, abandoned in a rundown brick kiln, and passed from hand to hand in the village. Raised in neglect, Chi grew into a strong, 20-year-old man, working as a farm laborer for Ba Kien. His resilience, despite having no family, no land, and living as a servant, shows his determination. He dreamed of a simple, happy life: a life where a husband works the fields and a wife weaves fabric. He even felt shame when Ba Kien’s wife tried to seduce him. Before his descent into drunkenness and rage, Chi was a kind-hearted, honest peasant.

However, the harshness of life often forces even the kindest to resort to deception and manipulation to survive, leading them to become unrecognizable versions of themselves. This is the reality of colonial-era Vietnam, where power and control were wielded by the elite. Ba Kien’s jealousy, seemingly trivial, became a source of immense wrath. As the most powerful man in the village, Ba Kien had life and death in his hands, capable of destroying anyone he wished. His jealousy, the trigger for Chi’s corruption, marked the beginning of Chi’s moral decay, first manifesting in his physical transformation.

Prison under the colonial system quickly turned Chi from a farmer into a thug, a criminal, reflected in his disheveled appearance. Nam Cao describes Chi’s appearance after seven or eight years in prison as grotesque. His shaved head, yellowed teeth, glaring eyes, and tattoos of thugs decorated his body, making him barely recognizable as the simple farmhand he once was. Yet, it was not just his appearance that struck fear in others; it was his loss of humanity, reflected in his actions.

After his release, Chi spent his days drunkenly feasting on dog meat, his rages terrifying the village. His wild behavior, fueled by alcohol, escalated from cursing Ba Kien to demanding favors and becoming a tool of the man he despised. Many families suffered due to Chi’s violence. He became ruthless, with blood on his hands, his soul sold to the devil. From being pushed into corruption, Chi willingly spirals deeper into it. The villagers no longer see him as human but as a monstrous figure—Chi Pheo, the discarded outcast of society. No one responds to his curses; they are as meaningless as the cries of animals.

This moment marks the depth of Chi’s corruption. In his utter loneliness, Chi is cast out from human society, lost at the margins. His degradation is a brutally honest reflection of rural Vietnam before the August Revolution, a powerful condemnation of the cruelty that exploited Chi, turning him into a demon of the village. This portrayal of Chi is a symbol of the deep suffering of the peasant class in that era.

Yet, under Nam Cao’s humane pen, Chi Pheo is not alone. In the depths of his despair, the writer rekindles the last spark of humanity within him. The curses Chi screams are tinged with a desperate longing to return to human society. Nam Cao sympathizes with him, despite his cold writing style, and this is what allows Chi to awaken to the possibility of redemption, beginning with his fateful encounter with Thi No. Chi’s inherent goodness had not disappeared; it had only been buried, waiting to resurface. If he had truly lost his humanity, he could never have recognized the bitter reality of his past and his bleak future. Nor could he have heard the voices of life, or tasted the sweetness of human kindness in a bowl of onion porridge.

The complex emotions and desires of a person emerge once again as Chi yearns to return to the simplicity of human society. Even when hope is crushed by societal prejudice, Chi continues to dream. His demand for decency, for the removal of the glass shards on his face before Ba Kien, is an act of immense courage. It is not the action of a demon, but of a human being trapped in the depths of despair. The tragedy of being unable to reclaim his humanity pushes Chi to the desperate act of killing his enemy and ending his own life. It is the only way he can prove that his desire to be human was real. This is not the action of a demon, but a final expression of the pain and hopelessness of a person with no other choices. Chi’s humanity has risen from within, and he has been reborn.

The process of Chi Pheo’s degradation is a vivid portrayal of the fate of Vietnamese peasants before the August Revolution. From an honest, humble farmer, Chi becomes the demon of Vu Dai village. It serves as a warning about a cruel, unjust, and inhumane society. Yet, Nam Cao’s compassionate writing affirms the inherent goodness within Chi, even as he dies on the brink of returning to life. Though Chi Pheo dies, the reader can sense a profound empathy for him, believing that the humanity he lost is not truly gone.

Nam Cao, one of the great writers of our nation, left behind numerous works that are rich in both thematic depth and profound humanistic values. He had a compassionate heart, filled with love for his people and deep ties to his homeland. Thus, it is evident that the central theme in many of his works revolves around the image of the peasant. One of the most impactful works in the hearts of readers is 'Chí Phèo,' which reflects a tumultuous period in the country’s history, set in the poor rural areas, where the marginalized were pushed to the edge. This can be clearly seen in the moral decline of the protagonist, Chí Phèo, in the story of the same name.

'Chí Phèo' was written in 1936, dealing with the theme of peasants in the period before the August Revolution. The story went through several title changes to better match its content, and by 1946, when it was published in 'Luống cày' under the final title 'Chí Phèo,' it conveyed the full and most comprehensive thoughts of the author. Chí Phèo, the main character, had an unfortunate fate, abandoned as a child at an old brick kiln and passed from one person to another in the village of Vũ Đại. When he grew up, he worked diligently, only to be wrongly accused and sent to prison. After his release, the years in the colonial prison turned him from a good person into a brutal thug and a henchman for Bá Kiến. His life took a turn when he met Thị Nở, who helped him rediscover his humanity, but after being rejected by her at the insistence of her aunt, Chí sought revenge on Bá Kiến, killed him, and took his own life.

Nam Cao poignantly depicts the process of Chí Phèo's moral degradation, as he transforms from a kind-hearted man into a demon of Vũ Đại. The story begins with the distinctive sound of Chí Phèo’s curses. Drunk, he curses everyone—'curses life,' 'curses heaven,' 'curses the whole village of Vũ Đại,' and 'curses the one who gave birth to him.' People might think that a person who is drunk is not in their right mind, so they ignore him, or they are used to it, assuming he isn't cursing them directly. But why does Chí curse? The answer lies in his deep despair. The more he drinks, the more he realizes his miserable fate—no one acknowledges his existence as a human being. He becomes angry and heartbroken, realizing that all he receives in response to his cries are the barking of dogs. Chí is a lonely soul, living as if he is not human on the land where he was born and raised.

Though his curses might suggest that he has always been a bad person, Nam Cao reveals that before going to prison, Chí was actually a good man. He had a unique childhood, without parents, with no land to call his own, abandoned in a desolate brick kiln, and then raised by the people of Vũ Đại. As he grew older, he worked as a field laborer for Bá Kiến, and he was honest and good-natured, 'gentle as the earth.' He had a strong sense of self-respect and felt humiliated by the indecent behavior of Bá Kiến’s wife. Chí had simple dreams, just like any other person: 'to have a small family,' 'with the husband working the fields and the wife weaving fabric,' and 'to save enough money to buy a few plots of land.' At 20, Chí was still a good-hearted young man with hopes and dreams, but the decaying colonial and feudal system drove him to the brink, where he was denied his humanity.

After seven or eight years in prison, the kind-hearted man was gone. Chí had become a monster, both in appearance and personality. His outward look was that of a thug—'a shaved head,' 'his teeth shining white,' his face 'always smug,' and his eyes 'glowering with anger.' His clothes imitated the colonial oppressors—black trousers, a yellow western-style shirt, with strange tattoos on his chest. But it wasn’t just his appearance that had changed; his humanity had been lost as well. He became reckless and aggressive, acting as if he had nothing to lose. He spent his days in drunken stupor, cursing Bá Kiến, and instead of working, he wallowed in his drunkenness and destroyed the lives of other honest families. He became a tool for Bá Kiến, trading his soul for his next drink.

Chí had turned into a demon of Vũ Đại. Everyone in the village feared him and avoided him. His life seemed meaningless, born a human but not treated as one. He recognized his own faults and understood what had caused his downfall. Bá Kiến and the colonial prison had pushed him to this point. In the end, Chí took revenge on Bá Kiến and ended his life, seeking death as a form of release. Through Chí, Nam Cao created a symbolic character representing a segment of the peasant class robbed of both their humanity and their identity.

Nam Cao succeeded brilliantly in crafting the character of Chí Phèo, using a unique method of character portrayal, making each character distinct and memorable. His storytelling style is full of surprises, jumping between past, present, and future. His tone is cold and harsh, yet at times it is tender and filled with love. The language is vivid and precise, grounded in the everyday speech of the people.

'Chí Phèo' is a timeless work of realistic literature. It condemns the brutal colonial and feudal society that stripped the peasants of both their humanity and their identity. Through this work, Nam Cao also calls on readers to cherish and appreciate those around them, to recognize the goodness in people, so that everyone can lead a meaningful and happy life as human beings.

Chí Phèo stands as one of Nam Cao's greatest works, as well as a pinnacle of Vietnamese realistic literature, focusing on the theme of the peasant life. The main character of this short story, Chí Phèo, starts as an innocent, kind-hearted, and simple peasant. However, due to the oppression of the ruling class and the colonial prison system, he is gradually dehumanized both physically and mentally. Despite this transformation, Chí's innate goodness remains intact. Nam Cao's portrayal of this process is both delicate and masterful.

Chí Phèo was born into misfortune. The moment he was born, his mother abandoned him at an old brick kiln. Chí was raised by a kind-hearted villager, later taken in by a blind widow and then by a local carpenter. Despite living a life of constant wandering, Chí grew up to be a genuinely good person. He worked for the wealthy Bá Kiến's family, and during this peaceful period, Chí held onto a simple dream: to have a small family with a hardworking wife, a little farm, and perhaps a plot of land if they were lucky. This dream was shared by many peasants—a longing for a humble, peaceful life.

However, Chí's life was far from simple. While working for Bá Kiến, he caught the eye of Bá Kiến's wife, who forced him to massage her feet, an act that ignited Bá Kiến's intense jealousy. This irrational jealousy led to Chí being framed and imprisoned. The combination of the oppressive colonial government and the brutal prison system turned this humble, honest peasant into a corrupted soul, twisted both in body and spirit.

After spending seven or eight years in prison, Chí returned a changed man, his appearance now that of a hardened criminal. His once innocent face had been transformed by tattoos and scars, making him unrecognizable. But it was not just his outward appearance that had been altered—his very humanity was destroyed. He resorted to the disgraceful act of cutting his face and extorting money to survive. On his first day out of prison, he immediately sought out Bá Kiến's house to harass him, but instead, the manipulative Bá Kiến befriended him, using him as a pawn for his own malicious deeds. Drunk, Chí was willing to carry out any orders—burn houses, kill people—and he became the terror of the village, a demon that the villagers feared and avoided. Chí's desperate curses became a form of communication, a last attempt to reconnect with humanity, though no one would respond. His moral decay was not accidental; it was a direct result of the inhumane colonial society that had destroyed not just his body but also his dignity.

Yet, Chí's story does not end there. His encounter with Thị Nở marked a turning point, showing him that there was still a spark of humanity left in him. One drunken night, a bond grew between them, and Chí began to awaken to the reality of his life and the choices he had made. He began to hear the familiar sounds he had long drowned out with alcohol, and he recalled his humble, simple dreams. The realization that he had wandered too far down the wrong path filled him with sorrow and loneliness. Not only was he isolated, but society had rejected him entirely, viewing him as a demon rather than a man. For the first time, he tasted a bowl of onion porridge and was amazed by its simple, comforting flavor: “Those who have never eaten onion porridge don’t know how delicious it is. But why has it taken Chí so long to try it?”. He looked at Thị Nở with eyes full of gratitude and affection, tears welling up—tears marking the return of his humanity. Chí longed for goodness and reconciliation with the world: “Oh, how he craved to be good, to make peace with everyone, and Thị Nở would be the one to lead him back.” It was Thị Nở who would show him the path to redemption. Chí's humanity, although buried beneath layers of cruelty, could still emerge if given love and forgiveness.

However, life played its cruel hand once again. Just as Chí's humanity began to resurface, it was denied by society one final time. Thị Nở, influenced by her aunt, came to Chí's house and coldly rejected him, dousing the flames of hope in Chí's heart. Desperate and full of despair, Chí set off with a knife, initially intending to kill Thị Nở's family. But his instincts led him to Bá Kiến’s house instead, where he demanded justice for his lost humanity. However, deep down, he understood: “Who will grant me goodness? How can I erase these scars on my face? I can never be good again.” In a fit of despair, he killed Bá Kiến and then took his own life. Chí's death symbolized the final affirmation that his humanity had not been lost entirely. When his humanity returned, it would not allow him to continue as the demon he had been. Yet, society would not accept him back, and death became his only choice to preserve what little humanity he had left. His death was a powerful condemnation of the colonial, feudal society that had pushed him to the brink.

The journey from innocence to corruption, followed by the return of Chí's humanity, showcases Nam Cao's mastery in character development and psychological insight. His use of non-linear narrative structure leaves a lasting impression on the reader, while his simple yet profound language captures the depth of the human experience.

Through Chí Phèo's transformation, Nam Cao expresses his deep sympathy for the tragic fate of peasants driven to corruption by a merciless society. At the same time, he demonstrates his belief in the inherent goodness of even the humblest of people. Nam Cao also strongly critiques the colonial and feudal systems that drove individuals like Chí to their ruin. The work holds significant historical and humanitarian value, remaining a poignant reflection on the social injustices of the time.

"No! Who gave me the right to live honestly?"—this painful cry marks the tragic end of a person’s life corrupted by the feudal system, wrapping up a haunting short story about the society and the Vietnamese peasant under the old regime. Before the August Revolution, the themes of peasants and former petty bourgeois intellectuals always attracted many writers and became the central subjects for the works of famous authors such as Ngô Tất Tố, Nguyễn Công Hoan, Vũ Trọng Phụng, Nguyên Hồng, Kim Lân, and more. Among them, one writer stood out—despite his frail, small frame and kind face, his writing was sharp, cold, and filled with suffering: Nam Cao. Chí Phèo, Nam Cao's character, was not just about the suffering caused by taxes or ordinary hardships, but about the tragedy of an inherently good peasant life destroyed by a rotten society. His spirit was crushed, his soul tormented, and in the end, he was left a soulless, brutal creature, a demon of Vũ Đại village.

The moral decline and degradation of Chí Phèo, or more accurately, his tragedy, began even before he was born. Chí Phèo had never experienced real warmth or happiness, neither before nor after his corruption. Abandoned as an orphan at birth, he was left in a crumbling brick kiln, passed from one caretaker to another, growing up under the care of the people in Vũ Đại. Yet this was no life of privilege, for in the eyes of everyone, Chí was a child without parents, an outcast. For him, it was a life full of coldness and pain. His first moments were spent fighting for survival. But against all odds, his innate goodness persisted. At 20, Chí had become a hardworking, honest peasant, dreaming of a modest life—tilling the land, having a wife to weave, and owning a few pieces of land and a pig. His life’s dreams were simple, but poverty drove him to work as a hired farmhand for Bá Kiến. Sadly, Chí’s physical strength, kindness, and honesty became a curse. He was targeted by Bá Kiến’s ruthless wife, a scheming woman who sought to trap him, and by Bá Kiến himself, whose jealousy and cruelty destroyed Chí’s life. Despite doing nothing wrong, Chí found himself imprisoned, as Bá Kiến put him behind bars and his tormentors went unpunished.

When Chí returned, the villagers no longer recognized him. He had been so transformed that he struck fear into the hearts of those who saw him. Once a humble, kind peasant, he was now a creature of fear, with a shaven head, sharp, piercing eyes, and a face twisted with rage. The prison had broken him, making him a villain in both appearance and spirit. The horrors of the colonial prison system had turned Chí into a criminal, a merciless thug. The person who had once had simple dreams of working the land and leading a peaceful life was now lost to a life of crime and drunkenness.

Chí’s descent into violence culminated when he sought revenge on Bá Kiến. Driven by alcohol, he came to Bá Kiến’s house to insult him, cursing and enraging the household. In a drunken rage, he even harmed himself, cutting his own face to further torment his enemies. His humiliation reached its peak when he was forced into servitude by Bá Kiến, becoming a tool for violence. For a few coins, Chí betrayed his integrity and became a hired thug, leaving behind the person he once was. His degradation was complete. Chí Phèo was no longer just a peasant; he was a monster, a beast in the eyes of society. The scars from his past and his violence were all that remained, leaving him trapped in a spiral of despair.

The pivotal moment in Chí Phèo’s life came when he met Thị Nở, a woman whom society had scorned. Her love and kindness sparked a brief moment of hope in him. For the first time in years, Chí dreamed of a better life—of peace and redemption. But the harsh judgments of society and his past crimes could not be so easily erased. Thị Nở’s aunt cruelly reminded her of the hopelessness of marrying such a man. Chí realized that society had already branded him an outcast, a beast unworthy of love or compassion. In the end, after failing to reclaim his humanity, Chí Phèo took his own life after killing Bá Kiến, ending his tragic journey with a final cry: "No! Who gave me the right to live honestly?" This phrase, uttered just before his death, left an indelible scar on the reader’s heart.

Nearly 80 years have passed, yet the pages of Nam Cao’s work and the tragedy of Chí Phèo continue to resonate with readers. It is not just the story of one man, but of an entire class—the peasantry—trapped between the oppression of feudalism and colonialism, struggling to survive under crushing systems that forced them to abandon their humanity. When they finally sought redemption, they found there was no way back. Like a person at the bottom of a deep well, they could only look up to the sky, helpless and broken.

During the literary period from 1930 to 1945, most authors focused on the fate of peasants, each exploring the lives of their characters in their own unique way. However, Nam Cao stood apart by choosing to delve into the suffering of honest peasants. Born into a poor farming family in Dai Hoang village, Nam Cao lived a life of hardship, yet he possessed a deep compassion, especially for the oppressed poor farmers. In 1951, he sacrificed his life, earning his place as both a writer and a soldier, often considered a towering figure in Vietnamese literature. His work 'Chí Phèo' underwent three title changes: initially named 'The Old Brick Kiln', then renamed 'Perfect Match' by the publisher, before Nam Cao himself settled on the now-famous 'Chí Phèo', which remains his literary masterpiece.

To understand the tragic denial of humanity that Chí Phèo experiences, one must first grasp what a tragedy truly is. A tragedy often arises from intense conflict and frequently ends with the death of the main character. In 'Chí Phèo', the author not only explores class conflict but also the internal struggles within the character himself. Chí Phèo was born a normal human being with dreams and aspirations, a kind-hearted, honest farmer who knew right from wrong. However, he was pushed into a life of degradation, losing his humanity and being cast out of society. When he tried to return to a virtuous life, he was harshly rejected, ending in death just as he was about to reclaim his humanity.

From the moment he was born, Chí was abandoned, left by the side of a deserted brick kiln, a helpless infant in the cold morning. His existence seemed as if it had been cast aside, alone and forsaken. Fortunately, the villagers of Vũ Đại took him in, allowing him to grow up as an honest, self-respecting peasant. But a jealousy-driven betrayal by Lí Kiến led to his imprisonment. The colonial prison turned him into a man 'who looked like a thug', and once freed, he became a tool for Bá Kiến, the local powerbroker. Chí Phèo, exploited and degraded, turned into a hired thug, selling his soul for a few coins and eventually transforming into a literal monster: 'His face was unreadable, with skin yellowed and scarred by countless wounds, and he drank constantly, his rage fueled by alcohol.'

In his rants, Chí’s loneliness is evident; he yearns for human interaction, even if it's just through insults. Yet no one responds, because he has destroyed the happiness of so many, spilling the blood and tears of innocent people. But he does this because he is constantly drunk. Unlike many other depictions of peasants suffering from poverty and heavy taxes, Nam Cao focused on the emotional and psychological torment of losing one's humanity. He was stripped of his personhood, cast out of human society.

Chí’s life could have continued in this tragic way if not for Thị Nở, who brought love into his life for the first time. She showed him what it meant to love and be loved, giving him a glimpse of humanity. For the first time, Chí felt 'like a woman had given him something.' He loved Thị, wished to be close to her like a child to his mother, and in her presence, he regained a part of his lost self. 'Oh, how I want to make peace with everyone,' he simply and sincerely hoped. He believed that Thị Nở could help him return to a better life, where society would accept him once more.

For a brief moment, he dreamed of a peaceful family life with her. But that hope was dashed when Thị remembered her aunt and felt compelled to return home to seek her approval. Unfortunately, her aunt rejected him, seeing him as a hopeless outcast with no family or prospects. The fragile bridge that had begun to reconnect him to humanity was destroyed, and his path back to the world of the living closed once again. Nam Cao skillfully intertwined the rejection of love with the tragic denial of humanity in his narrative. Before, Chí's suffering was bearable in his drunken haze; now, sober, the pain intensified, and there was no longer anyone willing to accept him back into the fold of society.

The author expertly conveys Chí’s inner turmoil, allowing the character to express his own agony. When Thị unleashed her fury on him, Chí was momentarily stunned and felt a fleeting, almost nostalgic scent of porridge in the air. After she left, he grasped her hand, holding on to the last thread of hope, but she remained resolute in her rejection. Chí’s despair deepened, and he wept in anguish. Returning to alcohol only heightened his awareness, as the bitter taste of liquor combined with the haunting scent of porridge intensified his pain.

Ultimately, Chí decided to confront Bá Kiến, muttering about killing Thị's aunt. But in a twist, he went to Bá Kiến's house instead, perhaps recognizing who truly pushed him to this point. Face to face with Bá Kiến, Chí declared with unwavering clarity, 'I want to be a good man,' expressing his desperate desire for redemption. Yet, in that moment, he understood that he could never return to a virtuous life. Who would grant him that humanity? Who would help him become a decent person? Filled with rage and frustration, Chí attacked Bá Kiến before taking his own life, dying just as he was on the cusp of returning to a better life.

Nam Cao masterfully captured the psychological and physical anguish of peasants, blending them with a simple, natural narrative style that showcased his literary brilliance. Through 'Chí Phèo,' the author conveyed a deep sympathy for the character’s plight and expressed his belief that the inherent goodness of humanity remains, even in the face of societal rejection. The story stands as a cry for the preservation of human rights, the right to live, and the right to love and find happiness.

When reading Nam Cao's *Chi Pheo*, Professor Nguyen Dang Manh made a profound observation: Chi Pheo embodies the deepest misery and degradation of the peasant in a colonial society, torn apart and destroyed from human identity to physical form. Chi Pheo was robbed of his humanity, unlike Chi Dau, who, despite selling her child, dog, and milk, remained a human. Chi Pheo, however, had to sell both his appearance and soul to become a 'demon.' Among the many humiliations Chi experienced, the greatest tragedy was perhaps being denied the right to be human—a painful, searing anguish that haunts every line of Nam Cao's work.

'Tragedy is a cruel, painful situation with no way out that a person must endure.' Understood in this way, Chi Pheo's fate is a long series of tragedies, each worse than the one before. From the opening lines of the story, the reader is struck by the strange curses of an unnamed character: 'He walked while cursing... First, he cursed the sky... Then he cursed life... He cursed the entire village of Vu Dai... He cursed anyone who didn’t curse him... He cursed whoever gave birth to him, the one who birthed Chi Pheo.' This was the curse of a drunken man, an unconscious curse. Yet, sometimes, it is in unconscious moments that a person reveals more of themselves than when they are sober. Thanks to the artistic technique of escalation and short, rapid sentences, as if the words were torn apart, the reader feels they are witnessing Chi's torment as he suffers the pain of being denied his human rights. He curses the sky (the supreme deity of all beings), he curses the village (the close-knit, sacred human community)...

But no one speaks up. They don't because they don't recognize Chi as human. The whole village of Vu Dai fails to understand him. Chi stands alone, facing an arid desert of isolation. If only there had been someone to curse with, perhaps Chi would have suffered less. Because people live, even if only to argue, they can't curse in isolation. Chi was left to curse the ones who gave him life. To curse his parents was also to curse himself. Chi's curses reflect his deep agony, even though they are unconscious, as he seeks the root of his suffering. But tragically, the more he curses, the more helpless he becomes. If only, if only someone in Vu Dai had spoken up, or if later, Thi No hadn't 'only given, but also kept'... If only... if only... Just one 'if only' could have prevented the tragedy of Chi's life. But what happened, happened... Nam Cao takes us back in time to show the reader the gradual denial of Chi's humanity, from the lowest point to the highest, and also reveals the cause that led Chi to such a state.

Chi was a 'bastard,' 'a man who, on a fresh morning, was found naked and grey by a broken brick kiln, taken by a widow.' The five words 'one' in a long sentence seem to foreshadow Chi’s lifelong solitude. From the moment he cried at birth, Chi was denied humanity by both his mother and society. He became an orphan. Throughout his youth, Chi Phèo had no childhood, drifting from one house to another. When he reached adulthood, he worked as a farmhand for Ba Kien, a cruel and malicious landlord. Fortunately, Chi grew up among peasants and became a strong, healthy, and honest farmer. This self-respecting farmhand 'did not like anything that others despised,' and dreamed of 'having a small family, with a wife who would weave cloth, and a husband who would plow and rent his labor.' Yet, tragically, life did not allow Chi to enjoy such simple, normal dreams.

It was only due to a baseless jealousy that Ba Kien sent Chi to prison. Ironically, the prison, a tool of colonial rule meant to 'reform' people, helped the feudal landowners and bullies destroy the humanity in Chi Phèo, turning him from an honest farmer into a rogue, cast out from society. This was the second time Chi was denied his humanity.

Upon returning to Vu Dai village, Chi Phèo appeared in a bizarre form: 'his head was shaved, his teeth were bright white, his face was dark but very arrogant, and his eyes were fierce and terrifying.' It was the face of 'a strange beast.' Moreover, 'he wore black pants and a yellow jacket, with his chest exposed, covered in intricate dragon and phoenix tattoos, and he looked like a tough thug.' It was the form of a violent, quarrelsome man, who only knew how to fight, stab, and argue. Upon his return, Chi immediately went into a frenzy to seek revenge on Ba Kien through threats and insults. But cunning Ba Kien manipulated the situation, stripping Chi of the right to take revenge. Chi Phèo eventually became Ba Kien’s pawn, reduced to an instrument of destruction, forced to cut faces, extort money, and fight those who opposed Ba Kien.

From then on, he drowned in drunkenness. He ate while drunk, slept while drunk, and fought while drunk. 'He destroyed many families, shattered the happiness of countless innocent people, and caused blood and tears to flow.' The natural human abilities—emotions and consciousness—were almost completely destroyed, leaving only the urge to fight and destroy in his eternal state of drunkenness. Thus, his life spiraled downward. His age was unrecognizable by his face. His life seemed like a lost cause, his body wrecked, and his humanity eroded. The whole village of Vu Dai 'feared and avoided him every time he passed by.' He had even forgotten his own existence. Before meeting Thi No, Chi Phèo had reached the peak of being denied his humanity.

People suffer less if they don’t know they’re suffering. They hurt less when stripped of their humanity without realizing it. Before meeting Thi No, Chi Phèo hadn’t recognized the tragedy of his life. He didn’t know that the colonial feudal society that created him had also nurtured his brutal tendencies by gradually stripping him of his humanity. Just when Chi seemed to have reached the depths of degradation, when people thought he would remain a demon forever, Nam Cao discovered a tiny spark in the depths of his character that began to shine. Chi longed to become an honest man again. Thi No's role in the story is crucial. This 'silly, unattractive woman' became the only light in Vu Dai that could illuminate Chi’s dark world. Her womanly presence did not awaken his animal instincts, but her love rekindled the human side that Chi had long lost.

After his brief affair with Thi No, Chi heard the sounds of life that he had long ignored. For the first time in years, he heard the cheerful chirping of birds, the laughter of people at the market, and the sounds of boats rowing for fish. These sounds reminded him of the human dreams he once had. For the first time, Chi felt sadness, and he 'feared old age, hunger, illness, and loneliness, with loneliness being more terrifying than hunger and sickness.' The bowl of porridge from Thi No awakened healthy emotions in Chi, and as he ate, tears filled his eyes. Indeed, just a small act of love – even from a strange, abandoned woman – was enough to bring Chi back to life. The power of love is boundless. Nam Cao truly became one with his character to empathize with and share the brief, human happiness Chi experienced. After more than twenty years of being denied his humanity, Chi Phèo finally found a path back to humanity. Thi No’s love built a bridge that allowed Chi to reconnect with the world of the living.

But tragically, in the end, even Thi No could not belong to Chi. The fleeting happiness he sought could never be his. Thi No was like the rainbow after a storm. Chi realized with pain that there was no bridge that could bring him back to human life. Society had stolen his right to live, to be human, and would never give it back. The scars on his face, the result of years of drunkenness, violence, and fighting, had broken the bridge between Chi and life. In his agony, Chi understood: 'It’s too late now, there’s no other choice.' Chi raised his knife to take revenge on Ba Kien and end his life. Thus, Chi finally avenged his grievance. But the cost was too high. His tragic death, like an animal, was the greatest tragedy of his character and a powerful condemnation of an inhuman society. It was a desperate cry for human rights.

Through Chi Phèo's fate, Nam Cao wanted to generalize a common phenomenon in the countryside before the Revolution: a part of the hardworking peasant population was pushed into a path of corruption and delinquency. At the same time, Nam Cao expressed solidarity with their desire for righteousness and condemned the inhumane society that crushed their humanity. Furthermore, Nam Cao discovered that deep within the seemingly barren soul of the working class still gleamed the light of human dignity. This gave rise to a desperate call: 'Save humanity.' Nam Cao is one of the most profound and compassionate humanist writers in the history of critical realism literature. *Chi Pheo* thus becomes a masterpiece of the 20th-century literary canon.

Chi Phèo died on the threshold of returning to the 'egalitarian society of honest people.' It was at this moment that the reader truly felt the brutal, tragic denial of Chi’s humanity. This pain lingers, as long as human rights continue to be violated, the tragedy of Chi Phèo will always be remembered. His suffering has become the suffering of all humanity. Nam Cao's sharp pen continues to pierce the heart of society, even today.

Some believe that if Nam Cao had not written 'Chí Phèo', Vietnamese literature would have lacked a significant work. 'Chí Phèo' was Nam Cao's debut, and upon its release, it immediately became a major topic, a masterpiece of the realistic literary movement. The story is a profound portrayal of the plight of Vietnamese peasants, exposing their suffering in a feudal society. While other realist writers like Ngô Tất Tố and Nguyễn Công Hoan depicted peasants suffering under oppression, their characters still maintained a sense of humanity. In contrast, Nam Cao explores a deeper tragedy: not only the impoverishment of the peasant but also their transformation into a moral wasteland, stripped of their rights as human beings.

The novel opens with Chí Phèo in a vivid and unique image: limping and cursing as he walks. His curses immediately suggest something abnormal. Why would a person curse like that? And why is there no one to respond? But soon, it becomes clear that Chí's curses are not random; they are deeply logical and purposeful. Initially, he curses the heavens, then life, and finally the entire village of Vũ Đại. His targets are vague until he curses the very fate that led him to this suffering—finally identifying the source of his misery.

Chí curses to understand the cause of his personal tragedy. Yet, he quickly realizes that his curses are in vain. He understands the deep despair of his fate, hoping someone would respond, allowing him to connect with others. But no one replies, meaning that everyone has cut him off from humanity. To be cursed back would have meant recognition of his humanity, but silence leaves him isolated. Chí curses the entire village, yearning for a response, but all he receives is a terrifying silence. He is left alone in a desolate world with only three dogs and a drunken man as his companions.

Through this unique opening, Nam Cao not only introduces the character but begins to reveal the tragic fate of a man stripped of his humanity by society. Chí's initial suffering is symbolized by the lack of everything: no home, no family, no land. But the worst part of his misery is society’s rejection, the loss of his soul, and his exclusion from human society. Chí’s transformation from a humble, good-hearted man into a criminal is a result of his years in prison, manipulated by the malicious Bá Kiến. In prison, he loses his sense of self, becoming a drunken thug who resorts to violence: hired murder, theft, and mayhem. His crimes only deepen his reputation as a monster in the eyes of the villagers.

It seemed that Chí’s life would continue in this downward spiral of criminality, but the arrival of Thị Nở brings a turning point. Her presence leads Chí back from the depths of his moral decay to a semblance of human dignity. This moment, marked by the simple act of Thị Nở offering him a bowl of porridge, symbolizes the return of compassion and humanity. Though Thị Nở is considered unattractive, she is the only one in the village who sees the gentleness in Chí. The warmth of her gesture awakens the human side of Chí, who had long been buried under the image of a monster.

After his awakening, Chí recalls simple dreams of a peaceful life: a small family, farming, and prosperity. He imagines a life that could have been his if fate had been kinder. However, his newfound awareness brings only sorrow as he realizes that he is now old and still alone, living on the margins of life. He longs to be human again, to talk, to connect, but his past mistakes and society's rejection make that impossible.

The brief moment of happiness between Chí and Thị Nở is quickly crushed by the harsh reality of social prejudice. When Chí finally faces this reality, he comes to the painful realization that he cannot be accepted as a human being by the society around him.

Chí’s desire to be human again burns more intensely than ever, but it remains just that—a desire. It is like a rainbow that fades after the rain, or a small flame extinguished before it can ignite. His longing for humanity is completely rejected, leaving him isolated once more. Chí realizes that he has no path back: 'No, who will allow me to be virtuous? How can I rid myself of the scars on my face?' These scars represent his years of wrongdoing, a permanent mark on his identity in the eyes of the villagers, who see him as a demon that can never be redeemed.

Though Thị Nở offered Chí the chance for empathy and compassion, she too is a victim of society's prejudices. She is both a tool and a casualty in the social system that condemns Chí.

Chí's final act is a tragic choice between life and his sense of humanity. In the end, he chooses death, killing Bá Kiến, the man who caused his downfall, before taking his own life. This is a bitter, yet decisive act—the only way for Chí's inner humanity to survive. His suicide becomes the final battle between the good man he once was and the monster he had become. In this battle, Chí dies, but his inherent goodness triumphs, representing the victory of humanity over corruption, and reflecting Nam Cao’s deep commitment to humanistic values.

In Chí Phèo’s death, his human spirit shines through, embodying Nam Cao’s message of human dignity, empathy, and the power of compassion in the face of societal cruelty.

Chí Phèo is a tragic story of a poor peasant, corrupted by the old society, embodying a common plight. At heart, Chí Phèo is an innocent man, yearning to live a simple, honest life, but society turns him into the 'devil' of the village of Vũ Đại. This tragedy begins within him when he meets Thị Nở, who offers him a bowl of porridge. It is this love between Chí Phèo and Thị Nở that awakens his humanity, saving him from his tragic fate—if only for a fleeting moment.

Chí Phèo is a masterpiece by Nam Cao. Based on real events in his rural hometown, the author creatively constructs a vivid, realistic portrayal of pre-revolutionary Vietnamese rural life, filled with darkness, oppression, and numerous painful, horrific tragedies. Whether titled 'The Old Brick Kiln,' 'A Perfect Pair,' or 'Chí Phèo,' the story is known for its profound humanistic and realistic value.

The protagonist, Chí Phèo, symbolizes the tragic fate of peasants corrupted by the old regime. Yet even in the face of such despair, the oppressed peasants like Chí Phèo never lose their desire for a better, more virtuous life. Inside them, there is always a simmering, powerful resistance.

Chí Phèo's story begins with his humble origins—born in an old brick kiln and raised by the charity of the poor. As he grows, he works as a laborer for Bá Kiến, where he faces jealousy and injustice, eventually being sent to prison. After his release, Chí Phèo becomes the 'village devil,' terrorizing the villagers. He drowns in his drunken stupor until one morning when Thị Nở awakens him. However, his moment of clarity is short-lived, and in his despair, he seeks redemption by killing Bá Kiến and then taking his own life. Chí Phèo dies, but the story continues. Thị Nở looks down, sensing a new life within her—another 'Chí Phèo' is about to be born, symbolizing how the cycle of oppression persists.

Nam Cao masterfully captures Chí Phèo's psychological journey. One of the most powerful moments is when Chí Phèo opens his eyes to the morning light for the first time. Despite his miserable surroundings, he notices the beauty of life—the sun rising, birds chirping. For the first time, he feels a spark of life. He hears the sounds of the market and boats on the river. He remembers the dreams of a modest family life: a husband working the fields, a wife weaving fabric. This marks the shift in his psychological state, as a former 'devil' begins to yearn for a more virtuous life.

The story of Chí Phèo unfolds as his humanity is denied, alongside his moral corruption. From the start, his cursing reflects his rejection of society. He curses the heavens, life, the village, and everyone around him—those who have abandoned him. His curses are a desperate cry for communication, an incoherent outburst from a drunken man. Yet, they are strangely specific and full of literary depth, conveying his desire for some form of connection. But no one responds. It is only when he meets Thị Nở that the true tragedy unfolds. Chí Phèo is deeply moved when Thị Nở brings him a bowl of porridge—this humble act of love and care is the true essence of human connection.

As Chí Phèo continues to sense the lingering aroma of the porridge, he begins to reflect on his past actions. At first, he wonders how to become a decent person again, realizing the weight of his sins. In a moment of self-awareness, he feels the porridge’s fragrance again—this becomes a symbolic representation of his yearning for a return to humanity. Ultimately, his final confrontation with Bá Kiến becomes his last act of redemption before death.

When Chí Phèo awakens to his humanity, the 'devil' within him dies. Though his body perishes, his quest for righteousness remains, lingering in the hearts of readers. Chí Phèo’s death represents not just the end of his life but the desperate struggle of the oppressed peasant to reclaim his humanity. This act of rebellion is not the work of a villain, but the final cry of a man seeking justice in a society that crushed him. The story condemns the corrupt feudal class and serves as a warning that such tragedies will continue as long as injustice reigns.

In the 1940s, life for the people of Vietnam was incredibly harsh. They were exploited and oppressed, effectively enslaved by the ruling class, with no escape from their misery. Against this grim reality, many writers stood up to defend the truth and critique society through their works. Among them, Nam Cao stands out, particularly with his profound exploration of the tragedies suffered by the downtrodden in the dark shadows of society. Chí Phèo is considered one of his masterpieces, showcasing both his literary skill and unique artistic style.

The short story Chí Phèo vividly depicts the rural society of Vietnam before the August Revolution. It is a society dominated by figures like Bá Kiến, Lí Cường, and Đội Tảo – a group of tyrannical landlords and local elites who exploit the labor of the people. Within this class, however, there are also internal conflicts. They act like a school of fish competing for the same bait, each one eager to dominate the others, causing constant struggles for power. These tensions are directly tied to the fates of characters like Binh Chức, Năm Thọ, and particularly Chí Phèo.

The second class in the story consists of characters like Chí Phèo, Năm Thọ, and Binh Chức. They are ordinary working people, poor laborers who have been corrupted, bought off, and turned into henchmen for the ruling landlords and local thugs. Their actions bring misery to the innocent, and through Nam Cao's sharp pen, the story presents a social scene filled with dramatic conflicts and explosive tensions.

Nam Cao creates the character of Chí Phèo as a symbol of those who have been corrupted by society. Corruption, in this context, refers to a change for the worse from one’s natural goodness. Chí Phèo was once a kind and honest peasant but was forced to live as a demon in the village of Vũ Đại. Even worse, the people of Vũ Đại distanced themselves from him, refusing to accept him back as a “human.” In fact, when Chí Phèo dies, the village feels no sorrow, only relief.

Through Chí Phèo, Nam Cao directly addresses the issue of human degradation, the loss of identity, and the destruction of personal dignity caused by oppression, exploitation, and extreme poverty. The story uncovers the harsh reality of life for those rejected by society, urging the reader to reflect on the human right to exist with dignity. Chí Phèo’s desperate cry, “Who will allow me to be good?” serves as a poignant reminder of his suffering and his yearning for a normal life, yet his plea goes unanswered.

The realization of his own degradation, the desire to return to a virtuous life, but the refusal of society to accept him, leads to the tragic continuation of his life. Chí Phèo had been corrupted for a long time, but it was only after meeting Thị Nở, a woman so ugly she was called “a demon’s fiend,” that he began to recognize his own moral decay. This encounter sparked an internal crisis within him.

Chí Phèo came to understand that the source of his suffering, the one who had turned him into a demon, was Bá Kiến, a representative of the ruling class. Bá Kiến is exposed by Nam Cao as a sinister and cruel tyrant who masquerades as a benevolent figure, helping those in need while secretly pushing the innocent like Chí towards a path of crime. It is in his drunken rages that Chí confronts Bá Kiến, seeking justice, yet it is also in these moments of clarity that he sees how powerless he is before the oppressive system. His attempt at revenge, however, only deepens his pain.

Chí’s suffering reaches its peak when he dreams of having a family with Thị Nở. In his brief time with her, he experiences warmth and the simple joys of life – the feeling of belonging, of happiness, of sorrow, and of remorse. It shows that Chí is not a cold-hearted monster. Yet, his lack of resolve leads Thị Nở to reject him, and his only remaining option is to seek revenge on Bá Kiến before ending his own life. It is a tragic end for someone with no way out of the misery that surrounds him.

The story doesn’t end there. Even though Bá Kiến is dead, his children and the power structure he represented remain. The local elites continue to exploit the common people, while Thị Nở gazes down at her own belly and the abandoned brick kiln. The people understand the meaning of the phrase, “Old bamboo gives rise to new shoots.” In this way, the deaths of Chí and Bá Kiến expose the harsh realities of society, but these injustices remain unresolved.

Nam Cao’s deep empathy for the suffering of the peasantry allows him to create such a vivid and poignant social portrait. He successfully crafts the character of Chí Phèo, not only as a representative of the corrupted lower class, but as a powerful cry for help from those who are oppressed and abandoned. The story urges us to fight for the rights, the right to live, and the dignity of these individuals. Through this, we see the profound humanitarian value reflected in Chí Phèo.