Top 14 Analytical Essays on the Character Hộ in Nam Cao's "Đời thừa"

Through Nguyễn Du's "Truyện Kiều," readers witness the tragedy of a "talented but ill-fated" life. In Nam Cao's "Chí Phèo," we encounter the tragedy of yearning for goodness, and in "Đời thừa," we delve into the spiritual tragedy of an intellectual. "Đời thừa" vividly reveals the fresh and unique humanitarian ideals of the great writer Nam Cao.

The spiritual tragedy of Hộ in "Đời thừa" is the tragedy of a writer—an intellectual caught in the turmoil of life, in a society described as "full of deceit" (Vũ Trọng Phụng). Despite maintaining his dignity and being aware of his noble "mission," he finds himself helpless and constrained.

It can be said that the first tragedy in Hộ's spiritual life is the tragedy of literary dreams. Hộ placed literature above all else: it seemed to be the greatest aspiration of his life. He wanted to become a genuine writer—one who "opens his soul to the echoes of life." He dreamed of one day writing a great work for all humanity, addressing pressing issues of society and mankind, celebrating love, compassion, and justice, and bringing people closer together.

And he was certain he would win the Nobel Prize! That would be the magnum opus of his writing career, bringing glory to him and to the nation's literature. It was a legitimate dream! Not every artist harbors such aspirations when embarking on the arduous path of literature. A writer must dream beautifully, and Hộ's aspirations were the strongest and most beautiful. He had chosen the right path for himself—he had defined his ideology.

He did not indulge in artistic fantasies—art was a "mystical moon" (as in "Trăng sáng"). He saw the moon of art as something that could "beautify even the most mundane and ugly scenes." His perspective was correct! His ideology was progressive! Yet, what had he written in his works? What kind of creations had he produced? He did not cater to "the literature of the idle"; he did not write for young girls in flowing dresses to read. But what had he written since he began his creative journey?

Alas! He had written pieces that made him blush with shame when he saw his name beneath them. He was furious with himself. He despised his own works, which only evoked shallow emotions through overly simplistic and facile writing. He seemed horrified and surprised by his own recently published works. He was tormented. He wanted to write better, but desires do not always translate into reality. And that was his tragedy—the tragedy of a writing life, the tragedy of someone who knew what he should do but was forced to write things he never wanted to. I feel the profound pain deep within his soul. Something had collapsed within him. It was the collapse of a beautiful and genuine aspiration.

He had to write hastily and carelessly because of the constraints of "bread and butter." Oh, if only he could soar with those dreams! But "bread and butter do not jest with poets" (Xuân Diệu). He had a wife and young children. The burdens of life held him down, preventing him from rising with the dreams of his youth. The constant worry about money forced him to write against his conscience and responsibility. His mind was always preoccupied with calculations about living expenses, daily meals… leaving no room for literature. He had to write quickly and prolifically to keep his wife, children, and himself from starving. If only he had abandoned his literary dreams, his life might not have been so miserable! But he thought of his work—works for all humanity—and his pain only deepened. His tears did not flow, but his anguish accumulated intensely.

Oh, "how painful are the lives that wish to soar high but are weighed down by bread and butter" ("Sống mòn"). That is the tragedy of his writing life—the tragedy of literary dreams lies precisely there! And it seems that this literary dream will haunt him forever. Only with deep understanding of human emotions could Nam Cao write such moving lines! It seems that the torments of his own life—the life of a struggling writer—had merged into Hộ's thoughts, into Hộ's spiritual tragedy. Some say Hộ is a reflection of Nam Cao himself in the pre-revolutionary period. I do not entirely agree. Nam Cao might have been weighed down by bread and butter, but he surpassed Hộ; he knew how to rise above those worries to turn his dreams into reality. He wrote the most beautiful and profound words about the lives of the downtrodden, and surely Nam Cao did not blush when he saw his name after works like "Chí Phèo" and "Đời thừa." Because those were the blossoming of his literary dreams.

It can be confidently said that with "Đời thừa," Nam Cao revealed his fresh and unique humanitarian ideals through the tragic lines about Hộ. His experience and life knowledge allowed him to write things that deeply moved and shook people's hearts! This was thanks to the fresh and unique humanitarian ideals of Nam Cao. Humanitarianism lies in praising Hộ's beautiful aspirations, in deeply sympathizing with the intellectual… And writing such lines was also due to Nam Cao's "fresh" and unique humanitarianism. Through Hộ's first spiritual tragedy, Nam Cao expressed his empathy and respect for the suffering lives in this world. And perhaps this ideology inherited the traditional humanitarianism of our ancestors. The writer did not "reflect for the sake of reflecting"; behind seemingly cold and indifferent words was a passionate, fervent heart—a heart full of love and compassion.

The first tragedy of Hộ's life as a writer also led to the second tragedy—the tragedy of a man. His literary dreams collapsed through careless writing. Yet, Hộ still had some consolation. That was the existence of his wife and children. He had not realized his aspirations—he had not written the novel of his life, but he had provided for his family. He had sustained the existence of his small family. And that could be considered a meaningful achievement. It was also a consolation for the "superfluous life" of a writer. That was worth some comfort!

Because he was a man who placed "love" above all, his life's philosophy was love. Love was paramount. In his affirmation about his future work, he said: a valuable work is one that "praises love, compassion, and justice." In literature, he wanted to celebrate love, and in real life, love was everything. It was because of his philosophy of love that he took in Từ, helping her escape the humiliation of being alone with a fatherless child. The tears of Từ and her elderly mother moved him deeply. They wanted to cry until "all their flesh and bones turned into tears," but meeting him, his love shone brightly and helped them escape their pain. A man who dared to abandon the carefree life of youth to care for his wife and children—wasn't he incredibly brave! It was love—his philosophy of love—that drove him to do so. He was truly noble!

His life was not "superfluous" to his small family. He suffered because his name "faded behind the brilliance of newly emerged names," but to Từ and his children—he was a shining symbol of love. That love was truly precious. In a society full of filth and deceit, wasn't his action a rare and beautiful act? Yet, he could not fully maintain that noble philosophy of his. It was a mistake when he concluded that the direct cause of the collapse of his literary dreams was his wife and his needy children. He was too narrow-minded! It was not entirely their fault. Disappointed in literature and bored with family life, he sought solace in alcohol. He wanted to forget everything.

He did not drown in the intoxication of love or swaying music… but in the terrifying grip of alcohol. He did not even know how he got home. He only knew he woke up in his own bed, his limbs weak. That "damned" alcohol was the direct cause of his tragedy. Alcohol turned him into an uneducated man, leveling the good, the bad, the rich, and the poor in his drunken stupor. When drunk, everyone was the same! The alcohol did not help him find the humanity that Chí Phèo sought in his "innocence." Instead, it turned him into a petty, uneducated man. He had violated his philosophy of love. He had beaten his wife like a brute. Yes, at that moment, he was a brute. He had beaten his devoted and gentle wife countless times. He pointed at Từ and shouted:

-"You and your child deserve to die." He had done it all, all in his drunken state. How disastrous! He had violated his own philosophy, trampled on the good—the most beautiful part of his humanity that he thought he had preserved in his philosophy of love. Who would have thought life would not allow him to uphold even that? Now, he had trampled on that very philosophy. His life—his existence—was truly "superfluous." The first tragedy was the tragedy of literary dreams, so the "superfluous" was not as painful as this tragedy, where the outcome was the full manifestation of his "superfluous" existence. He had touched the most noble part. It was the spiritual tragedy of a man, and more painfully, it was the tragedy of a man who was most aware of his own dignity. In the previous tragedy, his guilt complex was immense because he was a writer.

If Chí Phèo only sowed his crimes among the people of Vũ Đại, if teacher Thứ only transmitted his boredom to his students, then Hộ—he sowed "shallow, superficial emotions" into countless readers. The harm was greater. Yet, this second tragedy—the tragedy of a guilt-ridden man—was even greater. As a writer, he had influenced readers through profit-driven writings. As a man, he had caused even more terrible things. Society already had too much, too many evils. He tried to preserve the good within himself, but he destroyed it too. This guilt was immense and offered no consolation. The philosophy of love was what he held highest, and he had violated it. There was nothing left. This tragedy was far greater than the previous one because the philosophy of love, the foundation of many other human values, had collapsed.

This tragedy was terrifying and offered no escape, seemingly encompassing the tragedy of his entire life—a "superfluous life." He blamed his family, but it was all his fault. However, it must also be said that this tragedy had deep roots in the society of that time. That society had forced him to worry about "bread and butter." The struggle for survival had made him abandon his literary dreams. And those disappointments had led him to trample on his philosophy of love.

Perhaps he did not understand this cause—the cause of a semi-feudal colonial society—a cause that people of that time had already recognized. He had not found a way out of his despair. It was the despair of the era he lived in. But was this a limitation in Nam Cao's humanitarian ideology? He knew how to praise the beautiful aspirations of intellectuals, to sympathize with their sufferings, but he had not proposed a way out for them. Yet, those "fresh and unique humanitarian ideals" were truly precious and worthy of respect! Their uniqueness and freshness lay in the profound, boundless love for humanity hidden behind a seemingly indifferent writing style.

Today, life has changed. Writers have partly escaped the worries of "bread and butter," and there are no longer spiritual tragedies like Hộ's. Writers today are more privileged. We cannot forget the time when intellectuals and artists bore such spiritual tragedies. Nam Cao's fresh and unique humanitarian ideals have allowed his characters to stand firm as genuine human beings through all their trials.

Nam Cao is a brilliant writer in reflecting the values of his era. Each of his works meticulously and profoundly portrays the issues of the time. Nam Cao crafted his characters with great sophistication, deeply reflecting the realities of society at that time. His work "Đời thừa" is a prime example, with the character Hộ being intricately and thoughtfully developed throughout the narrative.

Hộ, a character in the story, is a writer with noble ideals, a genuine author who strives for realistic values. However, the harsh realities of poverty transform him into a brute. Faced with a life of hardship and scarcity, he is overwhelmed by the pressures of daily survival, money, and the basic needs of food and clothing.

In the work, the author vividly depicts the internal struggles of the character. Hộ emerges as someone with lofty aspirations and a strong sense of responsibility toward his family. After marrying Từ, his life becomes even more burdened with the weight of daily struggles, as numerous issues tear at his inner self.

Hộ is a writer with beautiful ideals, but the demands of daily life force him to set aside his ambitions and dreams to care for his wife and children. He sacrifices his dreams and career for the sake of survival. At that time, the income from writing was meager, compelling him to abandon it. The internal conflict is vividly portrayed in the excerpt, reflecting the harsh realities of society at the time.

The psychological portrayal of the character in moments of inner turmoil deeply illustrates the character's image in the work. Each detail carries its own value, showcasing the depth of creativity and adding to the work's expressive value. The character is dehumanized by poverty, hunger, and the cunning of society. Many aspirations are shattered, and Hộ represents the impoverished petty bourgeoisie before the revolution, corrupted by society. He falls into a tragic cycle of self-inflicted pain and eventually realizes his mistakes.

Through his refined writing style, Nam Cao effectively conveys the profound realistic values of the work. These values are expressed uniquely and deeply in his creative approach, crafting a work of art. The depth of these values is evident in the artistic expression and creativity, reflecting the realities of society at that time.

By skillfully portraying the inner conflicts of his characters, Nam Cao successfully creates characters with typical traits, representing the intellectuals of society. They are corrupted and dehumanized by a cunning society, falling into the tragedies of the era. This poverty is a stark reality of Vietnamese society before 1945.

Nam Cao is a great humanitarian and one of the most influential realist writers in Vietnamese literature. With his talent and deep understanding of the lives and fates of peasants and impoverished intellectuals in contemporary society, Nam Cao uncovered many phenomena and tragedies of the era. "Đời thừa" is a quintessential short story by Nam Cao, focusing on the theme of intellectuals and their spiritual tragedies—those who are deeply aware of the value of life, harbor noble aspirations, but are pushed into a life of redundancy by societal pressures.

Hộ, the central character of the story, represents the impoverished intellectuals of the past. Through Hộ, readers also catch a glimpse of Nam Cao himself—a troubled intellectual grappling with life and his creative career. In the oppressive society of the time, intellectuals had no environment to fulfill their ideals or creative passions, being crushed by trivial worries and the burdens of everyday life. This is what pushed impoverished intellectuals into the tragedy of redundancy.

Hộ is a poor intellectual with a profound awareness of his profession. He sets strict standards for his literary creations, yearning to produce works of significant value that deeply move readers. He believes a truly valuable work must "contain something grand, powerful, both painful and uplifting. It must praise love, compassion, and justice… It must bring people closer together… A truly valuable work must be a work for all humanity."

Analyzing the character Hộ in Nam Cao's short story "Đời thừa," we see that for Hộ, writing is not about earning money but about fulfilling artistic ideals. To him, the value of literature surpasses material wealth: "Reading a well-written sentence and understanding it brings more joy than eating the most delicious dish." However, the harsh reality of poverty and the burdens of daily life force Hộ to betray his initial ideals and principles of creation. His works are no longer carefully crafted but are instead carelessly mass-produced, lacking value. This truth torments Hộ, filling him with guilt and self-reproach: "Carelessness in any profession is a form of dishonesty. In literature, it is downright despicable."

As a writer, Hộ is an intellectual with a strong sense of responsibility toward his craft. As a human being, he is deeply emotional and lives by the principle of love. Out of this love, Hộ takes in Từ and her child, caring for Từ's elderly mother without regard for the family's financial burdens or societal judgment.

After marrying Từ, Hộ's life gradually changes, especially as their children are born one after another. Hộ no longer has time to pursue his ambitions, instead being swept into the whirlwind of daily survival. He cannot focus on writing or realizing his artistic dreams when his children go hungry or fall ill without money for medicine. The responsibilities of a family man force Hộ to produce mediocre writing that fills him with shame every time he reads it.

Hộ is caught in a terrible spiritual tragedy, torn between his artistic ideals and the principle of love he has always pursued. Overwhelmed by pain and despair, Hộ turns to alcohol. In his drunken state, he brutally beats and berates Từ, blaming her and their children for his suffering. When sober, he is filled with remorse, realizing the cruelty of his actions and condemning himself as a wretched man. Faced with the tragedy of redundancy, Hộ could free himself by abandoning his responsibilities to his family to focus on his noble ideals, but his sense of duty and love prevent him from doing so, trapping him in an inescapable tragedy.

Thus, through the character Hộ, Nam Cao delves deeply into the tragedy of impoverished petty bourgeois intellectuals. They are individuals with ideals and lofty dreams, but the stifling feudal society pushes them to the brink, leaving them to struggle in despair and suffering.

In the literary period of 1930-1945, no one surpassed Nam Cao in depicting the tragedies of intellectuals, especially impoverished ones in the old society. Through the poignant short story "Đời thừa" (1943), we witness a profound tragedy filled with contradictions, despair, and heartache.

Hộ, the protagonist of "Đời thừa," is a talented and passionate writer. Readers can see traces of Nam Cao's own life in Hộ. Hộ has written valuable works and desires recognition from peers and readers. However, he is never satisfied with his achievements, always striving for perfection and the ultimate beauty of art. He dreams of creating a work that "will overshadow all others of its time."

Hộ dedicates himself entirely to art. For him, art is everything, surpassing all other passions. His daily life revolves solely around reading and writing, as he believes reading refines his craft and writing allows him to express his aspirations for literature. In Hộ's eyes, even poverty becomes a form of beauty—a testament to a writer who sacrifices everything for art.

Is Hộ, or Nam Cao, an advocate of "art for art's sake"? The answer is no. For Hộ, literature is a noble profession, serving humanity at its highest level. Literature enriches people, making them more compassionate, generous, and connected. Hộ holds himself to high standards, never content with mediocrity, driven by a deep sense of responsibility to his readers and humanity. To Hộ, producing shallow, careless work is a betrayal of conscience, even a form of deception. He aspires to "explore uncharted territories and create what has never existed." Living with such lofty ambitions, Hộ constantly struggles with the gap between what he has achieved and what he ought to achieve, leading to inner turmoil and despair.

Hộ is also portrayed as someone who cherishes beauty and nobility in literature and life. His act of saving Từ's dignity and life, taking her in when she needed it most, is a testament to his compassion. As a husband and father, Hộ wishes for his family's happiness, or at least freedom from suffering. Yet, despite his efforts, Từ grows thinner and more miserable, and their children suffer from illness and deprivation. This heartbreaking reality underscores the tragedy of a man who desires to do good but is powerless to achieve it.

Hộ's deeper tragedy lies in the conflict between his artistic aspirations and his desire to be a good person. To support his family, Hộ is forced to write hastily and carelessly, producing works he despises. He violates his own artistic standards, writing for money rather than passion. Yet, to remain a true artist, he would have to abandon his family, an act he finds cowardly and unconscionable. Hộ is torn between two irreconcilable responsibilities, unable to sacrifice either without betraying himself.

Hộ's enduring tragedy is his inability to reconcile these dual responsibilities. On both fronts, he feels he has failed miserably, leading to relentless self-condemnation. This inner conflict becomes a chronic burden, occasionally erupting in moments of despair. In his drunken state, Hộ seeks extreme solutions, but upon sobering up, he finds himself trapped in the same vicious cycle, now heavier and more tragic.

"Đời thừa" concludes with Hộ sobering up after yet another drunken episode. He cries over Từ's pitiful sleeping form, and she, in turn, weeps. Hộ's tears are not just remorse for his cruelty but also for his own shattered dreams and the hopelessness of his life. Từ cries because she vaguely senses the harshness of their reality.

Is "Đời thừa" an eternal tragedy of intellectuals? Can one live with grand aspirations while fulfilling their human responsibilities? The answer lies in overcoming the narrow confines of life's constraints. Nam Cao, a master of psychological portrayal, leaves us with a stark reality and a message: to avoid feeling like a redundant life or a slow death, we must break free from life's entanglements and transform our existence.

In the vibrant literary garden of Vietnam from 1930-1945, Nam Cao stands out as a fragrant and radiant flower. With his deeply humanistic and compassionate pen, Nam Cao crafted "Đời Thừa," portraying the life of Hộ, a poor writer with a passionate love for art but tormented by inner conflicts. Let us revisit the pages of this story to understand Hộ's tragedy, which mirrors the spiritual struggles of intellectuals before the August Revolution. Hộ lives in agony, his career stunted by the pressures of daily survival. He dreams of illuminating art with his fervent heart but ends up in obscurity, living a redundant and disheartening life.

Time and again, Hộ tries to break free from mundane life to dedicate himself to literature, but each attempt ends in failure. He cannot abandon his family—his devoted wife and young children. Hộ's inner turmoil reflects the struggles of intellectuals of his time. He wishes to live for art, but material concerns weigh him down, tearing him apart and destroying his literary aspirations and human compassion. Yet, he strives to uphold his humanitarian principles.

Hộ's primary tragedy is his literary downfall. He harbors grand ambitions for his career, believing that "art is everything." He scorns material concerns: "Hunger and cold mean nothing to a young man passionate about ideals." He dreams of creating a masterpiece that "will overshadow all works of its time," winning the Nobel Prize and bringing glory to himself and Vietnamese literature. These are beautiful, pure dreams, his aspirations and desires. His views on literature are profound: "Carelessness in literature is despicable," "literature does not need skilled craftsmen following templates," and it "demands depth and creativity."

Yet, life rarely aligns with one's desires. Hộ's insights into literature are profound, but what has he written? He publishes "hastily written books" that evoke "shallow, superficial emotions" through overly simplistic and facile writing. Like Điền in "Giăng sáng," Hộ believes that "art is not a deceptive moonlight; it is the cries of suffering from wretched lives." He does not dream of fame but wishes to create enduring works. Yet, he betrays his professional conscience. "Bread and butter do not jest with poets" (Xuân Diệu). The daily grind of survival leaves no room for creativity. The more he dreams, the deeper he sinks into spiritual agony.

If Hộ had no literary dreams, he might not suffer so much. But if he could soar freely with those dreams, he would not be torn apart like this. Yet, "how painful are the lives that wish to soar high but are weighed down by bread and butter" ("Sống mòn"), and "literature in this world is as cheap as duckweed" (Tản Đà). With a family to support, how can he "fly"?

The tragedy of his literary dreams pushes him into a redundant life. He writes against his ideals, betraying his professional ethics but supporting his family. His hastily written works feed his wife, children, and himself, saving them from starvation. This is the only meaningful remnant of his "superfluous life." His principle of compassion keeps him grounded. He hopes that embracing human kindness will prevent him from becoming meaningless. Though redundant in society, he is the lifeline for Từ and his family. He takes in Từ, a woman betrayed with a newborn child, guided by the noble ideal that "the strong are those who help others on their shoulders."

Yet, he also destroys the most human part of himself. He wrongly blames his family for his shattered career. It is not their fault; Từ is diligent and kind. The root of his suffering lies in the "deceitful" society of that time, which undervalues talent and perpetuates poverty, suffocating him with the weight of survival.

In despair, Hộ turns to alcohol. He does not find solace in wine or love but is consumed by it. Alcohol turns him into a brute, erasing the line between good and evil, rich and poor. Unlike Chí Phèo, who finds humanity in love, Hộ is tormented by alcohol, driven to the brink. His greatest tragedy is violating his own principle of compassion. This is an unparalleled pain. While tormented by his career, Hộ feels remorse. Like Chí Phèo spreading misery in Vũ Đại or teacher Thứ filling his students with boredom, Hộ plants shallow, fleeting emotions in his readers through forgettable works.

Tortured by guilt for betraying his conscience, Hộ's heart shatters before his family's tragedy. His suffering deepens as his guiding principle crumbles. Hộ reaches a dead end. Nam Cao masterfully portrays Hộ, a writer tormented by inner conflicts, reflecting the struggles of contemporary intellectuals. Through Hộ, Nam Cao expresses fresh, profound humanitarian ideals, even a humanistic inspiration. Hộ reveals the material values within humans, prompting Nam Cao to praise, love, and defend these pitiful lives, fighting for their happiness and their right to live by humanitarian principles. Some argue that Hộ is Nam Cao, but I disagree. Nam Cao and Hộ are not entirely alike. While Nam Cao faced financial struggles like Hộ, he did not "blush" or "rage" over works bearing his name, such as "Chí Phèo," "Đời thừa," and "Đôi mắt."

Nam Cao succeeded brilliantly. His artistic talent flourished in these works, where he expressed his humanistic ideas in a fresh and profound way. It can be said that Nam Cao fulfilled the ideal that "literature is human studies," elevating human beauty through his timeless works. They are deeply humanistic because he stood up to fight for their right to live, their principles, and their noble aspirations. These are the outstanding values of Nam Cao's ideological contributions, evident in his works in general and in "Đời thừa" with Hộ's spiritual tragedy in particular.

If "Chí Phèo" ends with Thị Nở glimpsing the deserted brick kiln, "Đời thừa" offers little more hope. No one knows if a Chí Phèo Jr. will be born or if Hộ will find happiness after his tears and sobs. All this stems from a society that crushes beautiful human dreams, where writers cannot write freely or live virtuously. It is heartbreaking that they know why they suffer but cannot escape. Nam Cao gave them a voice, exposing the society that killed contemporary intellectuals. "The song comes from the heart to the lips."

As a great writer, Nam Cao was deeply conscious of his artistic philosophy. For him, "realism in Vietnamese literature, from the early 20th century, truly became fully aware of its creative principles." Stories like "Trăng sáng," "Đời thừa," and "Đôi mắt" serve as artistic manifestos for Nam Cao, who viewed writing as a noble and responsible endeavor. A writer must have a conscience and integrity, avoiding careless writing and chasing money. Literature must truthfully and profoundly reflect the hardships of people's lives with a humanitarian and ideological spirit.

The short story "Đời thừa," published in "Tiểu thuyết thứ bảy," is one of Nam Cao's most outstanding works. It portrays the suffering and despair of intellectuals in the old society before the August Revolution. Particularly, the work reflects the spiritual pain and the struggle to maintain one's humanity.

The protagonist, Hộ, is a talented writer with grand ambitions. Despite his hardships, "hunger and cold mean nothing to a young man passionate about ideals... He scorns trivial material concerns. He only strives to nurture his talent... For him, art is everything... He dreams of creating a work that will overshadow all others of its time." Such a perspective is both correct and beautiful. Hộ's grand aspirations show his passion for art and his responsibility toward his craft. Even though he knows:

"Life's hardships bare their claws
Bread and butter do not jest with poets"

Hộ still writes meticulously, enduring material hardships to create a truly valuable work. "It must contain something grand, powerful, both painful and uplifting. It must praise love, compassion, and justice... It must bring people closer together." Hộ is also a man of great compassion. "Hộ bent down to Từ's suffering, took her soft hand in his, at a time when Từ was in boundless pain." After marrying Từ, Hộ struggles to support his wife, her mother, and later their children, constantly worrying about money to feed his family.

A man of such compassion and lofty ideals, a passionate and talented writer like Hộ, should have been happy, contributing beloved works to the world. Yet, the harsh realities of life, with its demands for food, clothing, and money, prevent Hộ from doing so. In literature, Hộ is forced to compromise, writing hastily and carelessly, "and every time he reads a book or a passage signed with his name, he blushes, frowns, grits his teeth, and curses himself as a wretch." Hộ writes bland, shallow, and uninspired works, merely to earn money to support himself and his family. On the other hand, Hộ cannot adequately provide for his family, and though he sometimes wishes to be cruel and irresponsible, he has been harsh to Từ, even threatening to abandon their children. In the depths of despair, Hộ vents his anger at life and his family through drunken rages, shouting at Từ before collapsing into sleep.

Hộ's spiritual tragedy lies in this torment. As a talented and conscientious writer, he is forced to produce dull, uninspired works. As a compassionate man who once believed "one cannot abandon love," for "he is a human, not a monster driven by pride," and who declared "the strong are those who help others on their shoulders," he often fails to support his family, leaving Từ and their children in misery. In his drunken state, he once threatened Từ, "I'll kill the rest of them in one go..."

Yet, Hộ finds joy in thinking about literature, believing that "a truly valuable work must transcend all boundaries and limits, becoming a work for all humanity." He dreams of writing "just one book" in his lifetime, "but that book will win the Nobel Prize and be translated into every language worldwide!" Hộ cries to his wife, choking through his tears: "I... I... am just... a wretch!—a wretch...!"

Hộ understands that to escape the state of being "superfluous," he must abandon his family, shedding his responsibilities to pursue his literary career. But as a kind-hearted man, he cannot forsake his compassion. He sacrifices his artistic ambitions to preserve his humanity. Yet, this silent torment makes Hộ suffer, forcing him to live a "superfluous life" he does not desire. This is the greatest spiritual tragedy of an artist.

Hộ's spiritual and everyday tragedy is also Nam Cao's and that of many other writers. The oppressive, unjust, and stagnant old society pushed countless people into corners, stripping them of their humanity, robbing them of their aspirations, and distorting their personalities. "Đời thừa" thus exposes the ugliness of society, echoing the cries of countless intellectuals of that time.

With "Đời thừa" and a series of works reflecting the lives of intellectuals, such as "Sống mòn," "Trăng sáng," and later "Đôi mắt," Nam Cao vividly portrays the daily struggles and existential pain of intellectuals. The work serves as an indictment and a heartfelt plea: "We must change these stifling lives to save humanity, to save life itself!"

Nam Cao is a renowned writer with many distinctive artistic viewpoints, often regarded as manifestos of Vietnamese literature. One of his most famous quotes is: "Oh, art does not need to be a deceptive moonlight; it should not be a deceptive moonlight. Art can only be the cry of suffering, emerging from wretched lives, and the writer must not evade art but stand in suffering, opening their soul to the echoes of life." In his work "Đời thừa," a famous piece about intellectuals in the old society, the author immerses himself in the tragic life of the protagonist Hộ, creating a deeply artistic and humanistic work.

The story revolves around the tragedy of impoverished intellectuals in the old society, epitomized by the character Hộ. What is tragedy? Tragedy is the conflict and contradiction in a person's life, often resolved with a sorrowful or open-ended conclusion. In Hộ's case, we see two major tragedies, which are also common among intellectuals of his time. First, there is the agonizing tragedy of a writer and intellectual. Hộ is portrayed as a young man full of ambition and talent, eager to live meaningfully, but life's harsh realities push him into becoming a redundant, useless person. Hộ is passionate about literature, and this passion becomes an ideal, despite his poverty in the old society.

"Hunger and cold mean nothing to a young man passionate about ideals. His heart is beautiful. His mind carries a grand ambition. He scorns trivial material concerns." His passion for literature reaches the point where "For him, art is everything; nothing else matters." However, this passion alone is not enough to make him extraordinary among the intellectuals of his time. What sets Hộ apart is his desire to live meaningfully through his heartfelt literature. Unlike other contemporary writers who wrote for the sake of art, Hộ believes his work must benefit society, contributing to a better world, not just empty, beautiful words.

Hộ constantly "worries about creating a work that will overshadow all others of its time..."—a work that contains something grand, powerful, both painful and uplifting, celebrating the noble love between people and bringing them closer. But in reality, all his aspirations are crushed by the mundane, even trivial, concerns of providing for his wife and children. Hộ cannot let his family starve. While he could endure hardship alone, now he has mouths to feed, and his conscience and responsibility as a husband and father do not allow him to neglect them. This responsibility forces him to write shallow, superficial works, far from his ideals, just to earn money to support his family.

Hộ suffers because he cannot write the works he desires. His circumstances do not allow him to spend months pondering a meaningful piece; he must write quickly and receive his payment. Life forces him to struggle, pushing the intellectual spirit to its limits. Sometimes, when he reads his own works, he feels ashamed, his face red with embarrassment. Hộ torments himself, calling himself "a wretch! A dishonest man! Carelessness in any profession is dishonesty, but in literature, it is downright despicable." In the end, Hộ becomes redundant in society, redundant in his family, and, most painfully, redundant to himself, as he nearly loses his talent and even his integrity.

The second tragedy of Hộ is no less heartbreaking: the tragedy of a man with integrity and compassion, who holds love as a sacred principle of life but ultimately tramples on it brutally, marking the corruption of his character. Hộ meets Từ in a dire situation—she is abandoned by her lover with a newborn child. He steps in, becoming her husband and the child's father. He saves not only Từ's life but also her honor. The bond between Hộ and Từ is not merely romantic but also a profound human compassion.

To Từ, Hộ is a savior whose kindness she can never repay, even if she works like a beast of burden. Hộ gives her a home, a haven of love when she feels most lonely and desperate. With his noble heart, Hộ takes care of everything, even arranging the funeral for Từ's elderly mother without complaint. He also has deep affection for his children: "Even after being away for a few days, Hộ misses them, and when he returns, seeing them run out to greet him and cling to his clothes, he is often moved to tears. He kisses them passionately..." It is clear that Hộ sacrifices his artistic ambitions for love—a tremendous sacrifice that reveals the vastness of his heart. Though he sometimes thinks, "One must be cruel and ruthless to live strongly," he cannot bring himself to be selfish when he thinks of his wife and children.

Unable to fulfill his literary ideals, Hộ harbors silent resentment and endless torment. His passion for literature never truly dies but smolders in his heart, waiting for the right moment to flare up and burn his self-respect. To escape this torment, Hộ turns to alcohol, hoping to forget his sorrows. But instead, alcohol reduces him to an ordinary man, both intellectually and morally. He scolds and drives away Từ and the children, the very people he once cared for with all his love, even abandoning his grand literary ideals. Hộ, who once lived by the principle of love, now strays from it, on the verge of losing his integrity.

Hộ's tragedy represents the plight of petty bourgeois intellectuals in the old society before the success of the August Revolution. "Đời thừa" offers not only an overview of the protagonist's tragedy but also expresses valuable artistic viewpoints in literature, delivering profound humanistic and realistic values.

Nam Cao, a great and talented writer of Vietnamese literature, is closely associated with the lives of impoverished intellectuals before the August Revolution. His works are like "blockbuster films" depicting the tragedies of dehumanized lives, and "Đời thừa" is a prime example. The tragedy in "Đời thừa" is embodied in the character Hộ, who faces not only the burden of survival but also the conflict of betraying his artistic ideals and the principles of love he once upheld as a husband and father.

Hộ, the protagonist, is a poor writer with grand dreams, aspirations, and noble ideals. He yearns to create timeless, monumental works, but poverty shackles and restrains his ambitions. After marrying, Hộ's life becomes constrained, and he is forced to set aside his dreams to care for his family. However, the conflict between his literary conscience and the pressures of survival transforms him into a brute, trapped in a vicious cycle of drunkenness, abuse, and remorse, leading him into a life of despair with no way out.

Hộ's life is a tragedy of redundancy—living uselessly, meaninglessly, and superfluously. First, his tragedy is that of a talented young writer passionate about his craft, harboring beautiful dreams and ideals. For Hộ, art is everything; nothing else matters. In the society of that time, what sets Hộ apart is his desire to live meaningfully through his heartfelt literature. Unlike other writers who write for the sake of art, Hộ writes to contribute to society, to strengthen morality, and to create works that "overshadow all others of its time." Yet, these dreams are crushed by the mundane concerns of survival. With a family to support, Hộ cannot think only of himself; he must earn money to provide for his wife and children, fulfilling his responsibilities and conscience.

This noble responsibility pushes Hộ into writing shallow, superficial, and crude literature, far from his ideals, merely to earn money. The spirit of the writer Hộ is oppressed, driven to the brink by life's hardships. Often, when he reads his own works, he feels ashamed, calling himself "a wretch," "dishonest," and "despicable." Hộ becomes redundant in society and to himself, losing both his talent and his integrity.

The second tragedy of Hộ is that of a man with integrity and compassion who tramples on his own principles of love. His wife, Từ, comes into his life under tragic circumstances. Hộ takes her in, along with her newborn child, after she is abandoned by her lover. He becomes her husband and the child's father, saving their lives and preserving Từ's honor. This act of humanity and compassion is further demonstrated when he helps Từ arrange her elderly mother's funeral. Hộ is also deeply affectionate toward his children, "kissing them passionately." His passion for literature still smolders within him, needing only a spark to ignite. However, the hardships of poverty and survival torment him, making him "burn with frustration."

Hộ turns to alcohol to "cool" and soothe himself, but he takes the wrong path. Alcohol only makes him crude, ordinary in both intellect and character. He even abandons his literary ideals, drives away his wife and children, and lives contrary to everything he once stood for. Thus, in both his roles as an artist and a husband and father, Hộ becomes "superfluous." His pain is the pain of living without truly living, unable to live for his passion or fully for his family. Living with this pain, Hộ realizes his own helplessness, condemning himself as a useless, redundant person in life.

The two tragedies Hộ endures represent the struggles of the impoverished petty bourgeois intellectuals in the old society. Nam Cao's "Đời thừa" paints a comprehensive picture of Hộ's tragedy, offering readers a profound understanding of its artistic and humanitarian values, which remain timeless despite the passage of time.

Nam Cao, with his cold and reserved exterior, possessed a rich inner life and a heart full of compassion. He often pondered societal issues, drawing philosophical and humanistic insights from them. His inner world was marked by intense conflicts between good and evil, truth and deceit, noble ideals and base desires. Some of his autobiographical works, such as "Mua nhà," "Trăng sáng," "Đời thừa," and "Sống mòn," reflect this struggle.

The short story "Đời thừa" (published in Tiểu thuyết thứ bảy, 1943) is one of Nam Cao's most remarkable works before the August Revolution of 1945. Through the character Hộ (a reflection of the author himself), Nam Cao vividly portrays the hardships, humiliation, and despair of impoverished intellectuals and artists in the old society. He focuses on their spiritual tragedies, raising significant social issues.

Hộ is a writer deeply aware of life's realities. He aspires to elevate his personal existence through a career that benefits society and earns its recognition. However, the daily grind of survival drags him into trivial, mundane concerns, leaving him unable to achieve anything meaningful. He suffers from living a redundant life, helplessly watching his beautiful dreams and aspirations crushed by harsh reality.

As a writer, Hộ once harbored grand ambitions for his literary career, willing to sacrifice everything for it. He dreamed of creating truly valuable works that transcended boundaries, delving deep, exploring uncharted territories, and inventing the unprecedented. Hộ yearned for glory, to affirm his talent before the world. He refused to live a dull, meaningless life. This was the passion of a man driven by lofty ideals. His views on literature and art were profoundly correct and progressive. He once expressed to his friends the value of genuine literary works: "It must contain something grand, powerful, both painful and uplifting. It must celebrate love, compassion, and justice… It must bring people closer together."

As a man of heart and talent, Hộ was so passionate about literature that he considered it his ideal and purpose in life. He prided himself on his sensitive, rich soul, believing no material pleasure could compare. Hộ was determined to turn his grand aspirations into reality. Yet, tragically, he could not achieve his dreams because the relentless worries about material needs and the trivialities of daily life consumed his mind and time. His wife was frail, his children sick, and his home was in shambles, mired in poverty.

Everything required money, and Hộ could only earn it through his pen. The impoverished life, struggling to make ends meet, forced him to write things he despised—careless, shallow, cheap literature he called "diluted writing." He imagined readers cursing him, feeling ashamed and blushing, condemning himself as a wretch and a dishonest man. Hộ said, "Carelessness in any profession is dishonesty, but in literature, it is downright despicable." This was the spiritual tragedy tearing at his heart.

Moreover, Hộ faced a second, equally painful tragedy. He was a man who considered love the highest principle, willing to sacrifice everything for it, yet he had to live cruelly and brutally with his wife and children, trampling on the very principles he set. What was the source of Hộ's torment? Both his tragedies reflected a societal contradiction: talented, kind-hearted people who wished to live beautifully and well were doomed to suffer.

Hộ's essence was goodness. He believed that the strong were those who helped others on their shoulders. Thus, he saved Từ, a fallen woman, and married her. Hộ bent down to Từ's suffering, performing an act of charity. The bitterness of life often made him harsh and cruel to his family. In despair, he turned to alcohol to drown his sorrows, but each time he sobered up, he was filled with remorse and pain. He apologized to his wife through choked sobs: "I am just a wretch!"

To escape the state of being "superfluous," Hộ had only one option: to abandon his responsibilities to his family, leaving his wife and children to pursue his literary dreams freely. But being inherently kind-hearted, he could not accept such cruelty. For Hộ, love was the standard that defined one's humanity. Without love, a person was merely a monster: "He cannot abandon love; perhaps he is weak, cowardly, ordinary. But he is still human." Thus, he could not forsake his family to chase his literary career. He sacrificed art to preserve love. Having to give up his grand ambitions, he suffered silently, brooding and tormented, especially when encountering his literary friends. Hộ was truly trapped in despair, with no brightness in his fate.

Nam Cao delves deeply into the tragedy of impoverished intellectuals and artists, subtly condemning the stifling, corrupt society that stripped people of their value, denying them a dignified and decent life. For intellectuals with a high sense of life's rights and morality, this was the most painful spiritual tragedy. This is the humanistic significance of the short story "Đời thừa."

"Đời thừa" is an autobiographical work by Nam Cao. The author depicts the tragedy of honest writers. It is also a manifesto of Nam Cao's artistic ideals before the August Revolution. Through the story, he emphasizes the importance of effort and creative talent in literature and art. In this field, if a writer produces only bland, uninspired works that contribute nothing new to society, they are merely redundant and useless.

Nam Cao (1915–1951) was an outstanding realist writer of Vietnamese literature before the revolution and a significant contributor to the fledgling literary scene in its early days. Before the revolution, alongside his immortal work "Chí Phèo," which depicted the tragedy of peasants, readers also remember the tragedy of the petty bourgeois intellectuals in "Đời thừa," vividly portrayed through the character Hộ.

Nam Cao, with his exceptional talent and boundless compassion, masterfully depicted the psychology of petty bourgeois intellectuals in tragic circumstances. This is why, in the book "Văn học 11," it is noted that "He excelled in describing and analyzing human psychology."

The short story "Đời thừa" was first published in "Trang tiểu thuyết số 7" on March 4, 1943. Works with similar themes include "Mực mài nước mắt" by Lan Khai and "Nợ văn" by Lãng Tử. "Đời thừa" also shares thematic similarities with some of Nam Cao's other works, such as "Trăng sáng," "Nước mắt," and the novel "Sống mòn." Through this work, Nam Cao successfully portrayed the mindset of a petty bourgeois intellectual before the revolution.

Hộ is a writer with grand ambitions—to create a work that "transcends all boundaries and limits." Some might hastily label this as vanity, but it is not. It is the dream of a man with ideals and aspirations, eager to affirm his talent. Hộ is a genuine writer.

This is evident in his views on literature: "Literature does not need skilled craftsmen who follow given templates. It only embraces those who dig deep, explore uncharted territories, and create what has never existed." With this mindset, Hộ deeply despised carelessness in literature, stating, "Carelessness in literature is downright despicable." Through Hộ's perspectives on literature, we see a writer with aspirations, integrity, and the conscience of a true artist who understands the responsibilities of a writer.

However, before being a writer, Hộ is also a husband and a father, burdened with family responsibilities. Life with a large family and an unemployed wife robbed him of the peace necessary for literary inspiration, as he constantly worried about rent, rice, and fish sauce. While literary ambitions might simmer momentarily, the daily struggle for survival is relentless. As Xuân Diệu once lamented:

"The bitterness of life bares its claws

Bread and butter do not jest with poets."

Thus, Hộ became desperate, scrambling for money. Nam Cao meticulously described Hộ's state of mind in such dire straits: "Sitting one moment, he would suddenly stand up, his face grim, and storm out into the street, swallowing his frustration." In just a short passage, Nam Cao captured Hộ's overwhelming anxiety. The claws of survival threatened to devour the once-passionate writer. To earn money, Hộ had to write. As a realist writer, Nam Cao knew that Hộ had to write works that catered to the tastes of the urban masses at the time—works that people would forget immediately after reading. Hộ had to write such works, but even if someone asked him to write something noble, he wouldn't know how, given his state of mind. Thus, Hộ was thrust into the orbit of tragedy.

He felt ashamed when reading his own works, "his face red with embarrassment." This shame stemmed from the remnants of his conscience that had not yet shattered. Hộ's pain and humiliation came not from being unable to write but from betraying the principles he had set for himself. What could be more painful than betraying oneself? Nam Cao showed great sensitivity and empathy toward Hộ's state of mind. Only someone who deeply understood and sympathized could write such emotionally charged pages.

Thus, failing to realize his literary dreams, Hộ became a traitor to himself. But Nam Cao did not stop there; he wanted readers to witness the full extent of the intellectual's suffering and tragedy. Hộ was cast adrift, battered by the stormy waves of life. After being thrown into the tragedy of his profession, he was plunged into another—the tragedy of failing to fully realize his humanity.

Everything began when he married Từ. By marrying her, he fulfilled his principle of compassion, saving three lives. But from then on, tragedy unfolded for him. The burden of family life weighed heavily on his shoulders, making him feel miserable, and he blamed Từ for his suffering. He turned to alcohol and even considered abandoning his wife and children. In his drunken state, he acted brutally, pointing at Từ and driving her and their children away. Nam Cao offered a weak justification: Hộ acted while drunk. But all this crumbled before the principle of compassion. Hộ was blameworthy for seeing his wife and children as the cause of his misery. Thus, the principle he once upheld—"the strong are those who help others on their shoulders"—was trampled.

Now, Hộ was no longer the passionate, humanitarian writer but a man who acted brutally. He was blameworthy, but perhaps more pitiable than blameworthy. Yet, Nam Cao stopped his character from descending further into degradation. After each drunken episode, Hộ would sober up, recognize his mistakes, apologize, and reconcile with his family. Only a writer of great talent, artistic skill, and faith in humanity could place a character in such a whirlwind of life and still let human compassion prevail. Hộ wept, "I am just a wretch." Tears of remorse and regret. The story of Hộ's life closed with Từ's tearful lullaby:

"Who made the smoke rise to the sky

Who made the rain fall to the earth, separating people?"

Thus, through the tragedy of the writer Hộ, Nam Cao vividly and profoundly depicted the tragedy of petty bourgeois intellectuals before the revolution. At the same time, he condemned the unjust society that prevented people from fully developing their talents and character. Through this, we also see Nam Cao's masterful talent in describing and analyzing psychology. No matter how harsh life is or how fierce the whirlwind, his characters always strive toward the horizon of truth, goodness, and beauty.