Top 15 Essays Analyzing Huấn Cao's Attitude Toward the Prison Warden in 'The Prisoner’s Calligraphy' by Nguyễn Tuân (Grade 11)

Nguyễn Tuân is an exceptionally gifted individual, and his literary works stem from this unique talent. Based on a real figure from Vietnam, Cao Bá Quát, Nguyễn Tuân created the story of the condemned prisoner Huấn Cao—a character with steadfast courage, noble character, and remarkable skill. Through the beauty of the prison warden, Nguyễn Tuân affirms the victory of beauty and nobility over vulgarity and corruption.

Huấn Cao's attitude reflects the author's view on everything around him, serving as his assessment of life’s truths, beauty, and virtue. First and foremost, Huấn Cao is a man of great self-respect: “He would never write couplets for gold, jade, or power,” “He is a man of pride, rarely willing to give his calligraphy to anyone except those he considers true friends.” He regards his calligraphy as a precious thing, and only the right people deserve it; giving away his art to the wrong person would devalue what he has treasured for so long. Huấn Cao is an individual of great dignity, “challenging the heavens and stirring the waters,” with “great ambitions,” and even facing death, he remains unafraid. He particularly despises those who represent the oppressive power of the ruling class. To him, they are nothing but “petty men showing off their authority.”

Therefore, even under their rule, he deliberately displays contempt. When he appears before the prison warden, shackled with chains weighing over 70kg, “with a sharp knock” and “indifferent,” “not caring to engage.” After the warden meekly asks, “Is there anything more you need, please let me know. I will try to provide,” Huấn Cao responds with disdain: “What do you want to ask? I only want one thing: for you not to step into this place.” He does not want his surroundings to be disturbed by the lowly, those who only serve the old social order. His soul is pure and high, yet he is resolute and unafraid of the corrupt power of evil. He remains arrogant, but when he understands the warden's heart, Huấn Cao not only graciously agrees to write for him but sincerely says: “I admire your noble spirit. How could I know that someone like you, the prison warden, has such a lofty taste? I almost missed seeing a heart as pure as yours in this world.”

Not only does he give his calligraphy, but Huấn Cao also offers sincere advice to the warden, showcasing his kind and magnanimous nature: “I am telling you the truth, you should return to your homeland, leave this profession, and then think about calligraphy. Here, it is hard to preserve your integrity, and soon you will lose the purity of your righteous life.” We can see a philosophy that holds true even today: ‘beauty cannot coexist with evil and filth, and one can only appreciate beauty if they maintain an untainted nature.’ The profound meaning of Huấn Cao’s words is truly deep and insightful. Huấn Cao is also an extraordinarily talented individual, so much so that the warden sees receiving his calligraphy as “a treasure of the world.” The image of Huấn Cao is further magnified by his dignified and heroic posture, reflecting the stance of a true hero. With his resilient character, even in his downfall, Huấn Cao maintains a calm, composed demeanor, unafraid of death. Even in prison, he casually enjoys meat and drinks wine, “as if it were a regular indulgence.”

The scene where Huấn Cao gives his calligraphy at the end of the story is perhaps the most beautiful, encapsulating the artistic brilliance of the entire work. Nguyễn Tuân uses contrast to great effect: the act of giving calligraphy, which is a noble and artistic creation with white silk, fragrant silk, and fresh characters, takes place in a small, dark, damp room, with spider webs, rat and cockroach droppings scattered about. Even more striking is the contrast between the grand image of the prisoner “wearing a collar, his feet bound by chains,” casually writing his exquisite calligraphy on the white silk like a free artist, and the image of the scribe “trembling as he holds the ink bowl,” and the prison warden, bowing down with copper coins to mark the calligraphy, then clasping his hands in reverence, “saying a sentence, his tears mixing with his words, choking with emotion: ‘This ignorant man humbly accepts!’” This is the victory of beauty, talent, and character over filth and corruption.

The ideological meaning of this short story lies here. In this character, the concepts of ‘talent’ and ‘heart’ harmonize beautifully. Like many of Nguyễn Tuân’s protagonists in *Vang bóng một thời*, Huấn Cao must undoubtedly be a person of extraordinary talent. Yet, Huấn Cao also embodies the beauty of someone with a proud spirit and a strong sense of responsibility toward his time. He is like a “pure sound cutting through a dissonant symphony,” standing out amid the chaos, like a note that never fades. Behind the brutal political system is the soul of an artist.

The work ‘The Prisoner’s Calligraphy’ with Huấn Cao’s image and his attitude shows the changes in his psychology and character across different stages. Through Huấn Cao and the prison warden, we see that the author does not oppose talent to virtue, beauty to integrity. In a difficult situation, when beauty, talent, and heart are not separated, art has the power to transform individuals. Even living in the filth, as the prison warden does, if one truly loves beauty, they still have the ability to aspire to goodness.

The short story 'The Calligraphy of the Condemned Prisoner' is part of the collection *Vang bóng một thời* by Nguyễn Tuân, and it stands as a successful example of character development. This is most evident through the character of Huấn Cao, especially in the evolution of his attitude and psychology toward the prison warden.

Nguyễn Tuân depicts Huấn Cao as a heroic figure, one who embodies both literary and martial prowess, with exceptional calligraphy skills and a pure, noble heart. He possesses a deep sense of compassion and, refusing to tolerate the brutal oppression of the feudal ruling class, led a rebellion. Unfortunately, the uprising failed, and Huấn Cao was arrested and sentenced to death. His imprisonment becomes the setting for the encounter between two opposing figures: the representative of the corrupt feudal regime—the prison warden, and the rebellious Huấn Cao, who rejects the injustices of society.

On a societal level, they are enemies. Aware of their stark differences, Huấn Cao initially shows contempt toward the warden, assuming him to be just another vile, conservative character. To his surprise, however, the warden reveals a heart of 'rare discernment and admiration,' with a refined appreciation for Huấn Cao's calligraphy. Upon realizing this, Huấn Cao’s attitude shifts; where he had once looked down upon the warden, he now feels gratitude. He not only agrees to give him his calligraphy but also offers the warden sincere advice, as a true Confucian scholar would.

When Huấn Cao first faces the power of the prison, he remains unyielding and dignified, treating the prison with disdain: “He broke the shackles forcefully, bowed his head, and slammed the head of the ladder to the ground with a loud thud,” disrupting the solemnity of the prison. Despite being imprisoned, Huấn Cao is fully aware of his own worth and refuses to bow to the cruelty of those in power. Throughout the time he is ‘privileged’ by the warden, due to his admiration for calligraphy, Huấn Cao continues to show contempt for him. He insults the warden without fear of retaliation, remaining calm and composed. This attitude is natural, as Huấn Cao has yet to understand the warden's true heart. Holding the noble spirit of a hero, Huấn Cao regards the warden as a petty servant of the decaying feudal regime he despises. All of them, to him, are deserving of contempt. Later, after understanding the warden’s sincerity, Huấn Cao expresses regret and gratitude: 'I appreciate your rare discernment and admiration for my art,' he says. 'I almost overlooked a heart such as yours.'

For this reason, Huấn Cao, who had only given his calligraphy to those he considered close friends, now decides to offer it to the warden, seeing him as a kindred spirit. He even advises the warden to leave the prison and protect his moral integrity, suggesting that beauty can arise even in the filthiest places, yet it cannot coexist with evil. Huấn Cao's change in attitude is not surprising, for while he is undeniably brave, the warden is not entirely evil. He too retains a 'pure heart.' They connect through their mutual love and respect for beauty. In Huấn Cao’s character, we see a person of sensitivity and magnanimity, someone who knows how to value those with integrity, even in a prison. In his final moments, he unexpectedly encounters a kindred spirit. Through Huấn Cao’s psychological journey, Nguyễn Tuân asserts that beauty and virtue can emerge from evil and corruption, but they cannot live together, and beauty has the power to transform a person.

Nguyễn Tuân has created a vivid image of Huấn Cao—arrogant yet unyielding, sincere and skilled, while also being able to recognize the purity in others. This highlights the success of his portrayal of complex characters and, once again, celebrates Nguyễn Tuân’s unique and brilliant artistic style.

Nguyễn Tuân is one of the most distinctive and exceptional figures in Vietnamese romantic literature. Before the revolution, he turned to the past, a time now only remembered for its refined pleasures: eating malt candy, drinking tea while admiring the moon... and one such pleasure was playing with calligraphy. This passion is vividly reflected in the story *The Calligraphy of the Condemned Prisoner*. However, the story is not merely about depicting the last calligraphy of Huấn Cao, the condemned prisoner, but rather an exploration of the journey toward recognizing and cherishing the prison warden’s noble heart.

With a heroic spirit and immense ambition, Huấn Cao led a rebellion against the imperial court, but when it failed, he was imprisoned and awaited his fate. During this time, he encountered the prison warden. Their first meeting revealed Huấn Cao's deep disdain for the warden. When standing before the warden, Huấn Cao and his comrades smashed their shackles with a loud “bang,” showing utter disregard for the threats and intimidation from the guards. Having lived boldly and defied the heavens, Huấn Cao feared neither death nor any display of power or petty threats from the guards.

In the days that followed, Huấn Cao continued to receive special treatment, including food and drink from the warden, yet he remained indifferent, accepting the offerings without enthusiasm: “For half a month, in the dark cell, Huấn Cao noticed a frail clerk bringing him wine before the meal, with extreme politeness.” “Huấn Cao casually accepted the wine and meat, as if it were something normal, something he had done before his imprisonment.” When the warden visited, he expressed his admiration for Huấn Cao and offered to fulfill any need the prisoner had, to which Huấn Cao arrogantly replied: “You ask what I want? There is only one thing: that you never set foot here.” This response reflected Huấn Cao’s indifference, showing no fear of the authority of power. No matter how the warden treated him, Huấn Cao was resolute in maintaining his own dignity and spirit.

However, Huấn Cao’s attitude underwent a profound transformation when he learned of the warden’s noble intentions. After hearing the clerk’s heartfelt recounting, Huấn Cao understood the warden’s personal care and the respectful treatment he had shown, not out of any desire to extract information, but because the warden truly admired Huấn Cao’s talents and resolve. Huấn Cao realized the warden’s genuine admiration, symbolized in his actions of providing special care. Moved, Huấn Cao agreed to grant the warden a piece of his calligraphy: “Tell your master that tonight, when the guards leave their posts, bring silk, ink, a brush, and a bundle of torches down here, and I will give you my calligraphy.” “I nearly missed recognizing a true heart in this world.” This statement from Huấn Cao expressed not only his respect for the warden but also a sense of regret for his earlier dismissive attitude toward him.

That very night, an unprecedented scene unfolded in the damp, dim prison. In the cramped cell, the flickering light from the torches illuminated the white silk, and the three figures gathered together, marveling at the moment when beauty was created. Each brushstroke Huấn Cao made embodied the rebellious spirit of a life lived without restraint. As Huấn Cao wrote, the warden humbly placed his coins aside, and the clerk trembled as he held the ink pot.

Once the beauty was completed, Huấn Cao gently helped the warden up and advised him: “This place is filled with filth. I advise you to move elsewhere. This is no place to display a pristine silk scroll with clear, bold strokes that reflect a life of bold ambition… I speak the truth: you should return to the countryside, leave this profession, and only then think about calligraphy. Here, it is difficult to preserve a noble heart, and eventually, you will lose the integrity of your good life.” The warden, deeply moved, wept and bowed, saying: “This foolish person accepts your guidance.” The power of beauty and virtue is extraordinary; it helps people recognize the truth and find the right path.

"The Calligraphy of the Condemned Prisoner" is a famous work found in Nguyễn Tuân's collection *Echoes of a Bygone Era*. Written before the August Revolution, this story deeply reflects his philosophy of beauty. Huấn Cao is a character who embodies the ideal beauty of a heroic figure with both great talent and an untainted soul. Through the change in Huấn Cao's attitude toward the prison warden—from cold indifference and disdain to admiration and respect—the reader gains a deeper understanding of both the noble spirit of the brilliant artist and the heartfelt sincerity of the prison warden.

Huấn Cao is a heroic figure who defied the heavens and was also known for his exceptional calligraphy, famous throughout Sơn Province. From the very beginning of the story, Huấn Cao appears with admirable qualities, demonstrated through a conversation between the warden and the clerk. At this point, Huấn Cao has no knowledge of the warden, but the warden is already aware of and admires Huấn Cao's abilities. The imperial court considers him a dangerous criminal, the leader of "rebel forces" opposing the throne. It seems the warden had already heard of Huấn Cao's talent, and upon his arrival at the prison, he treated him with unusual kindness.

Each day, the warden instructed the clerk to bring wine and meat to the prison as a special treat for Huấn Cao and his fellow prisoners. In response to this kindness, Huấn Cao showed varying attitudes at different moments, revealing the noble character of the condemned prisoner. Early on, when he didn’t yet understand the warden’s intentions, Huấn Cao remained indifferent, even contemptuous, and dismissive. He calmly accepted the wine and meat, eating as though it was an everyday ritual, an unusual sight for a prisoner facing execution.

One day, the warden himself brought the food with great respect, asking if Huấn Cao needed anything else. In response, Huấn Cao coldly replied: “You ask what I want? There is only one thing. That you never set foot here.” This marked the defiant attitude of a hero who no longer feared death. Huấn Cao stood proud, never willing to submit to power. “Huấn Cao waited for the storm of revenge and cruelty from the warden who had been insulted. He was not afraid of the prospect of death, so why would he fear these petty tricks meant to display authority?” Huấn Cao had mentally prepared himself for the usual prison routine, but much to his surprise, the warden did nothing but respectfully step back with a simple: “I understand your wish,” and from that day forward, wine and meat were still delivered as usual. The warden's behavior made Huấn Cao wonder: “The warden seems to want to uncover my secrets, but not because he is seeking information. He already knows everything.”

Thus, Huấn Cao, not only disdainful of the warden, began to question the warden’s actions, reflecting deeply on the special treatment he was receiving. This reaction was entirely justified, for Huấn Cao did not yet understand the warden’s true intentions. Moreover, there was a deep divide between them: one was a condemned prisoner fighting against the imperial court, and the other a representative of state power. Naturally, Huấn Cao remained cautious of any underhanded tricks or deceit. His attitude didn’t anger the warden; on the contrary, it only made him respect Huấn Cao more, for the warden knew well that someone like Huấn Cao, “a man who defies the heavens and causes turmoil, would not fear a minor official like himself.”

As a condemned prisoner, Huấn Cao’s fate was sealed, and the warden’s desire to receive his calligraphy remained unfulfilled. The warden worried that if Huấn Cao were executed, he would never have the chance to fulfill his wish. This anxiety reached a dramatic turning point when “one cold afternoon, the warden appeared pale after reading a dispatch.” The next morning, Huấn Cao was to be taken away, and the warden felt compelled to reveal his feelings and desires to the clerk. The clerk, understanding, relayed the warden’s heartfelt longing to the condemned prisoner, hoping Huấn Cao would understand the warden’s passion for beauty and respect for talent. Moved by the sincerity of the warden’s heart, Huấn Cao’s attitude shifted from cold indifference to a warm, respectful smile. He decided to grant the warden his wish—this act of giving a piece of calligraphy was rare, as Huấn Cao had only given his writing to three close friends in his life. Huấn Cao was touched by the warden’s unique taste and ability to appreciate beauty, and in his words, “I almost missed recognizing a true heart in this world,” there was a note of regret and self-reproach for his previous misunderstanding of the warden’s intentions.

That night, an unprecedented scene unfolded in the dim, dirty prison. In the cramped cell, the stark contrast between the humble surroundings and the beauty of the calligraphy created by the noble soul of Huấn Cao was striking. Now, Huấn Cao and the warden had become artistic companions—one created beauty, the other appreciated it. Despite the danger to his life, the warden only desired Huấn Cao’s calligraphy. Moved by the warden’s character, Huấn Cao offered him sincere advice on how to maintain integrity and moral virtue: “This place is tainted. I advise you to change your surroundings… It’s hard to preserve your noble heart here, and eventually, you will lose your virtuous life.” In response, the warden, deeply touched, bowed to the prisoner, his tears choking his words: “This foolish one accepts your wisdom.”

Thus, Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the warden evolved into one of respect, which was completely consistent with his character. When he didn’t understand the warden’s noble heart, he had shown disdain, as he could never submit to authority. But upon understanding the warden’s character, Huấn Cao became moved and deeply appreciative. This change in attitude is crucial to the meaning of the work. The author shows us that Huấn Cao was not only a brave and unyielding hero but also a man of great artistic talent and unblemished moral integrity. At the same time, the warden is depicted as a man with a keen eye for talent, who respects and passionately seeks out beauty.

As Nguyễn Tuân aptly remarked, Huấn Cao’s character is like “a clear sound piercing through a piece of music that is chaotic and dissonant.” Both of these men are precious, worthy of respect, and rare in a society that suppresses talent and beauty. Nguyễn Tuân’s brilliance shines through in how he places these two figures side by side, complementing each other to illuminate the beauty in life.

Nguyễn Tuân, the writer who spent his life in search of beauty, often ventured into distant lands, revisiting a time of glorious past to capture the beautiful landscapes and people of his country. Before the August Revolution of 1945, he harbored a sense of melancholy, rebelliousness, and remnants of the old era, which allowed him to vividly portray the lives of talented yet unlucky individuals. One such character is Huấn Cao in the short story 'Chữ người tử tù'. This type of character was brought to life by Nguyễn Tuân with admiration, regret, and lasting impact. Among the most notable aspects of Huấn Cao’s character is his remarkable treatment of the prison warden, an attitude that could be described as ‘unusual’ for a condemned prisoner towards a jailer, one that readers are unlikely to forget.

Nguyễn Tuân’s story 'Chữ người tử tù' is built upon an ironic and bizarre situation: a special encounter between Huấn Cao and the prison warden in a feudal-era prison. At first glance, nothing seems extraordinary about this scenario: Huấn Cao, the leader of rebels against the monarchy, is imprisoned and awaiting execution, while the warden represents the repressive authority of the feudal regime. A condemned man and a jailer, two figures in opposing positions, yet Huấn Cao must fully comply with the warden's orders as his life is in the hands of the latter. However, things unfold quite differently than expected. The condemned man is Huấn Cao, a well-known calligrapher from Sơn province, whose talent is admired by the warden, who has longed to acquire his handwriting as a prized possession. The warden finds it ironic that Huấn Cao is now under his charge, but still unable to request the calligraphy he so desires. It is only when the call of beauty resonates that these two men draw closer, dissolving the distance between them. Thus, the entire story becomes a dramatic ‘chase’ between the warden and Huấn Cao, where Huấn Cao’s shifting attitude toward the warden plays a crucial role in creating suspense and excitement in this encounter.

Even before Huấn Cao appears directly in the story, his name is already mentioned on a prison document listing six condemned prisoners, which reveals his remarkable character and talent, making it clear that he is not easily accessible to the warden. Huấn Cao is not only famous for his beautiful handwriting, but also for his ability to escape prison. His extraordinary nature forces the warden to reconsider his usual methods of ‘handling’ prisoners. The warden, troubled by this, tries to figure out how to treat Huấn Cao with the respect he deserves. This shows that the warden understands Huấn Cao’s remarkable nature and realizes that in order to fulfill his desire, he must carefully observe Huấn Cao’s attitude.

As expected, Huấn Cao does not behave like an ordinary prisoner. A man who dares to challenge the heavens would not be intimidated by a small prison and a few guards. Huấn Cao enters the prison with dignity and bravado. He disregards the mocking remarks of the guards and the unusually docile demeanor of the warden, who typically deals with prisoners in a submissive manner. Without hesitation, Huấn Cao slams the heavy shackles onto the floor, causing the prison door to open. This attitude demonstrates his strength, heroism, and a desire for national change. This moment foreshadows the contempt he will have for the warden.

As things unfold, the warden treats Huấn Cao with special care, though Huấn Cao remains unaware of the reasons behind it. He simply accepts the food and wine without questioning, as he does in his usual manner. But this does not mean Huấn Cao does not harbor suspicions about the warden’s intentions. He wonders what the warden truly wants from him. He has already confessed everything he knows to the authorities. Despite any possible motives, Huấn Cao cannot accept the idea of cooperating with someone he considers corrupt. Thus, when Huấn Cao coldly declares, “I have only one wish: that you never set foot in here again,” it reflects his utmost disdain for the warden. The warden, however, does not dare to challenge him. The two remain at an impasse, with the warden unable to get close to Huấn Cao, and Huấn Cao refusing to have any interaction with the warden.

This encounter grows increasingly tense and fraught with obstacles, seeming destined to reach an impasse. If it continues in this manner, Huấn Cao will soon be executed, and the warden will never fulfill his desire for Huấn Cao’s calligraphy. Will Huấn Cao change his attitude toward the warden? The warden confides his frustration to the prison scribe, who becomes the link between the two men. Time is running out for Huấn Cao; he has only tonight and tomorrow before his execution. The warden turns to the scribe for help. Then, readers are moved when Huấn Cao, in a moment of realization, says, “I never knew someone like the warden could have such noble tastes. I nearly missed out on a heart like this.” This moment of recognition changes Huấn Cao’s perception of the warden. He now sees the warden as a pure voice amidst the chaos and corruption, a symbol of purity and goodness in a world filled with vice. Huấn Cao is so moved by the warden’s sincerity that he decides to “return the favor” by offering him a rare and priceless gift: his calligraphy.

Thus, Huấn Cao’s attitude shifts from contempt to genuine admiration for the warden’s passion for beauty. In a moment of unprecedented symbolism, the condemned man, with chains on his body, writes his precious calligraphy while the warden stands respectfully by. This dramatic shift creates a complete role reversal: the man about to die bestows life through his art, while the living warden feels reborn in the presence of such purity. No longer defined by social rank or animosity, the two men are united by their shared appreciation for beauty. Huấn Cao’s gesture of advising the warden to change his living environment to preserve his moral integrity is a testament to the reconciliation between these two men. Huấn Cao, putting aside his pride as a scholar and hero, treats the warden as someone who understands the profound values of beauty and goodness. The warden is ready to renounce his position to follow the call of moral purity. Beauty becomes the catalyst for Huấn Cao’s change of heart toward the warden, imparting a deep and meaningful moral lesson in the story.

The story of Huấn Cao and the warden ends with a tear of happiness. It is a tear of joy for having fulfilled a noble dream in one’s life. Above all, it represents the harmony between two like-minded souls. To achieve this happy ending, Nguyễn Tuân crafts moments of tension and drama, all stemming from Huấn Cao’s shift in attitude toward the warden. As readers, we too feel the anticipation and learn valuable life lessons about the transformative power of beauty.

"The Prisoner’s Calligraphy", found in Nguyễn Tuân’s short story collection "Vang bóng một thời", stands as a quintessential work, notable for its remarkable success both in content and artistic merit. Alongside its romantic narrative style and the contrasting artistic techniques used, the story’s character development leaves a lasting impression, contributing significantly to the work’s overall success. This is especially evident in the psychological portrayal of the character Huấn Cao, particularly in his evolving mental state and attitude towards the prison warden.

The character Huấn Cao in the story "The Prisoner’s Calligraphy" emerges as a heroic figure, one who stands tall beneath the heavens and walks firmly on the earth, a man with the rare gift of beautiful handwriting, a scholar proficient in both literary and martial arts. With a heart full of compassion for the innocent, poor, and oppressed people suffering under the tyrannical rule of the regime, Huấn Cao rises in revolt against the monarchy. However, the uprising fails, and he is captured and imprisoned, awaiting his execution.

It is within the grim confines of the prison that an extraordinary meeting takes place between two equally extraordinary individuals: the prison warden, a representative of the corrupt and conservative feudal government of the time, and Huấn Cao, a condemned prisoner, a rebel who rose up against the oppressive powers. From a social perspective, they are two opposing forces, antagonists locked in an unyielding struggle.

Huấn Cao understands this reality better than anyone. He scorns and holds the prison warden in contempt. Yet, as life often surprises us, it turns out that the warden, whom Huấn Cao perceived as a villain and a reactionary, harbors a deep admiration for Huấn Cao’s calligraphy skills. After realizing the warden’s genuine appreciation for his talent, Huấn Cao changes his attitude: he goes from disdain and contempt to respect and affection, ultimately agreeing to grant the warden a sample of his calligraphy. Moreover, Huấn Cao offers final words from the heart of a true scholar, advising the warden to return to his inner moral compass.

When he first faces the prison guards, Huấn Cao demonstrates his defiance against the authority of the prison. With calm and insolence, he challenges the prison’s sanctity, symbolized by his act of forcefully striking his heavy shackles on the ground with a resounding noise, shattering the prison’s solemnity. Even once inside the prison, Huấn Cao remains unyielding and proud, showing no sign of submission. Over the course of several weeks, while the warden shows him preferential treatment and kindness, Huấn Cao continues to express his disdain and indifference. When the warden, eager to serve, approaches him and asks what he desires, Huấn Cao coldly responds, "I want nothing from you but for you to never set foot here again." His words are filled with arrogance and defiance, as he dismisses any potential retribution from the warden. He remains serene and unperturbed.

This attitude towards the warden is to be expected, as Huấn Cao has not yet grasped the warden’s true nature. To Huấn Cao, the warden is simply a cruel, despicable figure, a representative of the despised feudal regime he so loathes. In Huấn Cao’s eyes, the warden is nothing but a cowardly sycophant, a pawn of the decaying monarchy. Huấn Cao’s character, defined by his exceptional talents and moral integrity, causes him to dismiss the warden as nothing more than a contemptible figure.

If the story had continued in this vein, it would have been quite fitting. However, Nguyễn Tuân does not choose the typical path. His works always strive for excellence, aiming for a level of perfection in both form and content. As is well known, Nguyễn Tuân was a romantic writer who deeply admired beauty, extolling and revering it. The characters in his works must embody beauty, and the prison warden is no exception. Hidden within him is a pure soul, a noble moral compass. To reveal this to the reader, Nguyễn Tuân uses Huấn Cao’s changing attitude towards the warden — a shift that contrasts sharply with his initial disdain.

Huấn Cao reflects on his previous actions, feeling regret. He "pauses and smiles": "I now understand your noble heart, your rare appreciation for the beauty of calligraphy. I never imagined that someone like you, a prison warden, could have such refined tastes. I almost failed to recognize a pure heart." As a result, Huấn Cao, who had previously been reluctant to share his calligraphy, now offers his final written words to the warden. Could it be that the warden had now become Huấn Cao’s "bosom companion"? A person to whom Huấn Cao entrusts his "final strokes of calligraphy"? Not only that, but Huấn Cao also advises the warden: "I recommend you change your place of residence... return to your homeland... and only then should you consider continuing to practice calligraphy. Here, it is difficult to preserve one’s moral integrity, and eventually, you will lose your pure soul." Huấn Cao has completely changed his attitude towards the warden. The description of this moment of granting calligraphy is one of the most moving passages in Vietnamese literature.

This is truly an "unprecedented scene". Nguyễn Tuân must have poured all his talent and romanticism into this moment. Normally, writing calligraphy or granting it would take place in a refined, elegant setting, such as a study. Yet here, it occurs in the dark, oppressive confines of a prison. It happens in the dead of night, just hours before the execution. In this small, suffocating space, a prisoner, shackled and bound, is gracefully completing the final strokes of his calligraphy. Nearby, the warden, trembling, watches in awe.

The atmosphere is silent, still, with Huấn Cao’s voice as the only sound breaking the silence. It is the voice of beauty, the voice of moral guidance: "Here, in this place of moral decay, I advise you to return to your homeland... for this place cannot preserve your noble spirit." The warden, overcome with emotion, can only respond, "I humbly accept your words, Master." In this moment, beauty triumphs over evil. Huấn Cao’s sincere advice — "This is not a place for noble pursuits" — reinforces the idea that beauty and goodness cannot coexist with evil and corruption. After Huấn Cao’s words, the silence deepens, allowing the beauty and goodness to resonate in the air. In that instant, Huấn Cao and the warden, once opposites, are united by a mutual respect and reverence for the goodness and beauty of life.

The change in Huấn Cao’s attitude towards the warden is neither surprising nor unreasonable. In reality, Huấn Cao is a man of integrity, and the warden is not entirely evil. Moreover, they find common ground in their shared admiration for beauty. Thus, we can understand their journey from opposition to harmony, as they are both touched by the beauty of calligraphy and the nobility of character. Furthermore, Huấn Cao’s refined nature and magnanimity shine through in his recognition of the warden’s moral integrity. He offers his calligraphy as a gesture of compassion towards someone who has shown a pure heart. In the prison, at the end of his life, Huấn Cao unexpectedly encounters a kindred spirit, someone who shares his love for beauty and goodness.

By masterfully depicting the psychological and emotional journey of Huấn Cao towards the warden, Nguyễn Tuân highlights the heroic character of Huấn Cao — a man of exceptional talent, a pure heart, and unwavering moral strength. He becomes a symbol of beauty and goodness, an ideal figure representing all that is virtuous and noble. Through Huấn Cao’s psychological development, Nguyễn Tuân affirms two important ideas: that goodness can emerge from evil, but it cannot coexist with it, and that beauty and goodness have the power to transform people.

Huấn Cao is a perfect literary figure, the most beautiful image in Vietnamese literature. Yet, this image is not rigid or lifeless. On the contrary, it is vividly brought to life through Nguyễn Tuân’s masterful prose. With his distinctive narrative style, Nguyễn Tuân creates a Huấn Cao who is both proud and unyielding, yet warm, talented, and deeply appreciative of art and moral integrity. This is a testament to Nguyễn Tuân’s skill in portraying psychological depth and his unique artistic style in Vietnamese literature.

A work of literature holds true value when its resonance continues to echo in the reader's heart long after it concludes. This lingering echo can manifest as an artistic detail, a line of dialogue, or a vivid character image. Just as Nam Cao’s *Chí Phèo* leaves a lasting impression through the iconic character of Chí Phèo, Nguyễn Tuân’s *Chữ người tử tù* profoundly strikes with the character of Huấn Cao—a man of both literary and martial excellence, a romantic figure whose life, tragically cut short, sees him imprisoned, awaiting execution. This is most clearly reflected in the evolving dynamics between him and the jailer.

*Chữ người tử tù* comes from the collection *Vang bóng một thời*, which explores a bygone era when French colonialism had firmly established its control over Vietnam, while the feudal system crumbled, and scholars of the old times found themselves displaced. Amidst such turmoil, some individuals surrendered to the circumstances, yet others remained in stark contrast with society, deliberately using their brilliance and rebellious nature to challenge the vulgarity of their surroundings. Among these brilliant figures, the character of Huấn Cao from *Chữ người tử tù* stands out.

Nguyễn Tuân places Huấn Cao in a tragic, ironic situation to unveil his personality. A brilliant man, Huấn Cao is a condemned prisoner, awaiting execution for the crime of treason. Within the prison walls, he encounters the jailer, and the evolution of Huấn Cao’s attitudes during this time leaves a lasting impression of the heroism of the condemned prisoner. Huấn Cao is a noble scholar who dared to defy the heavens, with unfulfilled great ambitions, yet remains fearless in the face of death. His indomitable spirit shines through, as even in prison, he maintains a dignified composure that commands respect. For the half month he spends in the prison, Huấn Cao, despite the special treatment provided by the jailer, accepts the food and drink with casual indifference, as if it were a typical act, unaffected by his confinement. He speaks to the jailer with a tone of defiance, showing utter contempt for him, without fearing retribution. At this point, Huấn Cao sees the jailer as a mere lackey of the decaying regime, an enemy to him. This defiance, however, endears Huấn Cao to the reader. His refusal to bow before power, his clear stance against evil, and his unwavering principles become the essence of his character.

Yet, upon recognizing the sincerity of the jailer, Huấn Cao comes to see him as a true confidant. He regrets his earlier assumptions, realizing that he had misjudged the jailer's noble intentions. He feels remorse for having disregarded the jailer's heartfelt kindness, acknowledging that *“perhaps a man like the jailer has a heart of rare sincerity,”* and *“I almost betrayed a pure soul.”* In a gesture of deep respect, Huấn Cao decides to grant the jailer the calligraphy he had only ever shared with a few close friends. A man who once scorned material wealth, unwilling to be swayed by power, now offers his rare art as a token of his admiration for the jailer's noble heart.

The shift in Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the jailer may seem illogical at first glance, yet it aligns perfectly with his character development. Huấn Cao, a man of extraordinary talent and courage, is also someone who values beauty and purity in others. Initially, he had misunderstood the jailer's attentiveness, leading to his dismissive behavior. However, after understanding the truth, he is deeply moved and changes his stance. Both Huấn Cao and the jailer are united by a shared reverence for beauty. The path they take, from opposition to harmony, unfolds within the radiant power of their shared appreciation for art.

Thus, the scene of Huấn Cao granting his calligraphy becomes an extraordinary moment, one never before seen. The art of contrast is masterfully employed to highlight the grandeur, dignity, and immortal brilliance of Huấn Cao’s spirit. A man known for his reluctance to give his calligraphy, now offers it in a narrow, dark, damp prison cell, its walls covered in cobwebs and the floor littered with dirt and rodent droppings. The one giving the calligraphy is shackled, with chains around his neck and feet. Social rank does not prevent the condemned man and the jailer from meeting. The gloomy, oppressive prison does not hinder Huấn Cao from demonstrating his indomitable will. They meet within the prison’s confines, but their souls soar freely in a realm of beauty and camaraderie. In this bleak setting, beauty shines even more brilliantly.

In crafting such a character, Nguyễn Tuân successfully creates the image of Huấn Cao—proud, unyielding, yet also deeply sincere, talented, and appreciative of art. Through Huấn Cao’s psychological development, Nguyễn Tuân asserts that beauty and goodness can emerge from evil and corruption, but they cannot coexist with it. Ultimately, beauty and goodness will triumph.

Huấn Cao is like *“the pure tone breaking through a chaotic orchestra,”* standing out amidst the disorder under Nguyễn Tuân's masterful pen, forever etched in the hearts of readers when the story ends.

Nguyễn Tuân is one of the most distinctive and unique figures in Romantic literature. Before the revolution, he sought to rediscover the past, a time that had faded into history, with elegant pleasures such as eating malt candy, drinking tea while admiring the moon, and one of his favorite pastimes was playing with words. This passion is vividly captured in the work 'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner.' However, the work is not just a simple depiction of the final calligraphy by the prisoner Huấn Cao, but also a journey of recognition, to appreciate the heart of the jailer’s noble intentions. Possessing an unyielding spirit and ambitious vision, Huấn Cao rebelled against the royal court. However, the failed uprising led to his capture and imprisonment, awaiting his trial.

During the waiting period for his trial, he encountered the jailer. The first meeting between Huấn Cao and the jailer was marked by Huấn Cao's scornful attitude. Standing before the jailer, he and his comrades remained unperturbed, mocking the guards' threats. Having lived a life of defiance, rebelling against heaven and earth, and not fearing the death sentence, how could he cower before the jailer’s intimidation and petty threats? In the following days, Huấn Cao accepted the special treatment from the jailer, yet he remained indifferent, neither warm nor welcoming: “For half a month, in the dark cell, Huấn Cao still noticed the thin jail clerk bringing him wine before his meager prison meal with extreme politeness.” He calmly accepted the food and wine, treating it as an ordinary routine, just as he would before his imprisonment. When the jailer came to see him, he spoke sincere praises and asked what Huấn Cao desired, to which Huấn Cao arrogantly replied: “What do I want? I want one thing only: that you never set foot here again.” This was a defiant attitude, unafraid of the power of the authorities. Even if the jailer had been kinder, Huấn Cao would not have abandoned his own dignity and defiance.

However, his attitude completely changed upon realizing the jailer’s noble intentions. Upon hearing the jail clerk’s sincere explanation, Huấn Cao understood the special treatment the jailer had extended not only to him but also to his companions. The jailer’s humble demeanor when he first met him, the politeness, and the special items brought to him all made sense. The jailer’s actions were not an attempt to extract information from him, but rather a sign of admiration for his talents and resolve. Huấn Cao now understood the jailer’s noble heart and agreed to write calligraphy for him: “Go tell your master, tonight, when the guards leave, bring silk, ink, a brush, and a bundle of torches here, and I will write for him.” “I almost lost a precious soul in this world.” Huấn Cao was genuinely moved by the jailer’s love for beauty and his appreciation for talent. His words reflected both respect for the jailer and regret for his previous disdain toward him.

That very night, an unprecedented scene unfolded in the damp, gloomy prison. In the narrow cell, under the brilliant light of the torches, with the intact white silk stretched out, the three heads gathered to admire the moment of beauty being created. Each stroke of Huấn Cao’s calligraphy displayed the grand ambitions of a remarkable life. Once each character was written, the jailer respectfully took the zinc coins, and the jail clerk nervously held the ink pot. As the creation of beauty concluded, Huấn Cao helped the jailer up and advised: “This place is not suitable. I recommend you move to a different location. This is not the place to hang a white silk with bold, bright characters expressing the grand ambitions of a human life. I’m serious: You should move to the countryside and leave this profession behind, then you can think about playing with calligraphy. It’s hard to preserve pure goodness here, and eventually, even the noble soul will be tainted.” The jailer was deeply moved, tears streaming down his face as he bowed deeply to the prisoner: “This ignorant one humbly accepts your wisdom.” The beauty and purity of the soul have an extraordinary power to transform, guiding people to recognize the truth, the right path, and helping them find direction.

Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the jailer didn’t change randomly. Initially, he treated the jailer with contempt, even hatred, because the jailer represented the oppressive power, the enemy force that stood against him. Therefore, when Huấn Cao unexpectedly received such special treatment, he became even more cautious, as he was well-versed in the tricks used in prison. Moreover, a person with such a rebellious spirit could not lose his integrity or defiance just because of the jailer’s kindness. His attitude matched his independent character.

However, after learning of the jailer’s sincere and heartfelt wish, Huấn Cao completely changed. He was not just a man of talent and defiance but also someone with a beautiful soul who appreciated those who loved beauty. This change in attitude revealed the full beauty of his character: not only was he courageous, but he also possessed a noble heart.

Huấn Cao’s journey of changing his perspective was also a journey to find a kindred spirit, realizing that even in his troubled life, there were pure souls who respected talent and beauty. Through this, Nguyễn Tuân also conveyed a message to readers: beauty has infinite power. It can connect like-minded souls, make people more humane, and guide them toward truth, goodness, and beauty.

Writer Nguyễn Tuân is a remarkable literary figure, known for his extraordinary talent, and his works always embody the romantic writing style. The character Huấn Cao in the short story 'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner' is inspired by Cao Bá Quát, a multi-talented individual whose skills in both literature and martial arts were wasted due to poor timing in his life. By highlighting Huấn Cao’s exceptional qualities, Nguyễn Tuân crafts a perfect character within his work.

'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner' solidifies Nguyễn Tuân’s romantic writing technique and showcases his ability to create vivid characters. The different attitudes displayed by Huấn Cao toward the jailer reflect the worldview of the author Nguyễn Tuân. These attitudes embody the author's philosophy of life, focusing on the appreciation of beauty and goodness in life. Huấn Cao is a man of great education and talent, yet he is also incredibly determined. He despises those in power who use flattery to achieve personal gain. He shows no respect for the feudal court, which he sees as a corrupt system that exploits good, honest people. Therefore, when he is offered the jailer's special treatment, receiving wine and meat daily from the jailer, Huấn Cao is not moved. Instead, he grows more skeptical, showing indifference toward the jailer. When the jailer asks Huấn Cao what he wants, Huấn Cao coldly replies: 'I want you to disappear from here.' The jailer bows and responds, 'I understand.' At this point, Huấn Cao doesn’t fully grasp the nature of the jailer, but his time in prison allows him to recognize the jailer’s sincere kindness and goodness, which leads him to understand that the jailer is an honest person. Eventually, Huấn Cao accepts the jailer as a friend.

Huấn Cao not only gives his calligraphy to the jailer, an act rare for him since he only shares his calligraphy with close, trusted friends. Huấn Cao never sells or gives away his calligraphy for personal gain. He gives his calligraphy to the jailer and even offers him heartfelt advice. Huấn Cao urges the jailer to quit his job, as it is difficult to maintain goodness in a place tainted by the stench of blood. Through these words, readers understand a deep philosophical message: no matter the circumstances, beauty and goodness should always be respected. However, beauty and goodness cannot coexist with evil and degradation, and the only place where beauty can truly thrive is where it is honored. Huấn Cao’s profound wisdom reflects Nguyễn Tuân's deep, insightful worldview.

The character Huấn Cao is portrayed as a noble figure, but his stature is further elevated by the jailer, who recognizes the value of beauty. The calligraphy of Huấn Cao is regarded as a priceless treasure when it falls into the hands of someone who appreciates it. When beauty is placed in the hands of someone who knows how to appreciate it, it shines even more brightly. Huấn Cao, a man who fears nothing, is moved by the goodness of others. Therefore, his attitude towards the jailer in 'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner' reflects his respect for those who live with integrity and kindness.

In the conclusion of 'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner,' Huấn Cao’s act of standing proudly and writing each stroke of his calligraphy, like a dragon soaring and a phoenix dancing on paper, to gift to the jailer, is the most beautiful action in the story, deeply moving readers. This detail is the most valuable part of the entire work, confirming the truth that beauty can exist anywhere, and when talent and a good heart are harmoniously combined, it creates something truly extraordinary. Through Huấn Cao’s character, we see that beauty has the power to awaken people and guide them toward truth, goodness, and beauty in life.

'The Calligraphy of the Prisoner' is an immortal work by Nguyễn Tuân. Through Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the jailer, we understand that only sincerity and goodness can bring people together as friends. The psychological development of Huấn Cao’s character changes throughout the story, showing that beauty and goodness alone can unite people, while wealth and material possessions are mere illusions.

“The Prisoner's Word” is one of the most representative short stories from Nguyễn Tuân's collection “Vang bóng một thời”. In this work, the author successfully creates the character Huấn Cao, who embodies all the beauty of talent, spirit, and character, representing the ideal of romanticism. Huấn Cao’s beauty is clearly reflected in his attitude towards the jailer.

Nguyễn Tuân is a gifted, emotional man with a free-spirited life and a strong sense of his own talent, always longing for a meaningful existence. He is known as “the artist who spent his life searching for beauty,” with an artistic style that combines both brilliance and erudition, all encapsulated in the word “ngông” (eccentric). His unique style comes from his ability to view people and things from a cultural, aesthetic, artistic, and intellectual perspective, drawing upon various cultural and artistic fields to create images within a refined, skillful language system. The collection “Vang bóng một thời” is representative of his thoughts and artistic style.

“Vang bóng một thời” portrays the fading beauty of the feudal era, depicting gifted artists and cultural objects such as gio lua, pho, and com in a melancholic atmosphere marked by pessimism about the present and doubt about the future, with faith resting solely in the past. This work emerged when Confucian learning was in decline, and gifted artists were like “people in the wrong century, with empty hands and no new tools,” resigned to failure but still unwilling to reconcile with the chaotic society of the West. They maintained an attitude of eccentricity, free-spiritedness, and moral purity. The author often refers to the “heavenly goodness” of characters, and the character that most clearly embodies this quality is Huấn Cao from “The Prisoner's Word”. Huấn Cao is a man of great talent and spirit, who despite his unfulfilled ambitions, scorns hardship and death, while always cherishing beauty and talent. His attitude towards the jailer perfectly represents this noble, pure quality.

The jailer is a colonial feudal prison official, a tool of the oppressors, always seeking to suppress those with the courage and talent to oppose the ruling regime. Yet, despite being immersed in the filth, he remains unsullied, described as “a clear note in a chaotic, discordant symphony.” He is captivated by Huấn Cao's writing, which he views as the embodiment of “the bold aspirations of a man’s life.” He admires Huấn Cao’s talent and sees his request for a calligraphy as a deep personal wish. The jailer fulfills this wish with sincere admiration and goes through a painstaking, persistent, patient, and brave process, willing to sacrifice his own authority and life. In the end, he achieves his lifelong dream of receiving Huấn Cao’s calligraphy, a gift from a man with a pure soul.

When Huấn Cao is captured for defying the regime he despises, he is brought to the prison, where the jailer reveres his calligraphy as “a rare treasure of the world.” At first, Huấn Cao treats the jailer with disdain, rejecting his kindness. Each day, he receives generous offerings of wine and meat with the message: “Our jailer sends you a small gift to warm your body. It’s very cold in here.” Huấn Cao shows no reaction, calmly accepting the gifts. Even when the jailer humbly and politely asks, “If you need anything else, please let me know. I will do my best to provide,” Huấn Cao’s reply is scornful: “What do I need from you? I only want one thing: that you stay away from here.”

Huấn Cao’s disdain stems from his fearlessness, even in the face of death. To him, the jailer is just another petty servant of the regime, no better than the others in the filthy, corrupt system. His scornful attitude is a way to protect his own purity, shielding himself from the evil and corruption around him. However, after hearing the jailer’s true intentions from the prison clerk, Huấn Cao’s attitude changes completely. He feels regret and gratitude, recognizing “a heart of gold” in the jailer: “I almost lost the chance to meet a pure soul in this world.” In the end, he grants the jailer his calligraphy, offering his final strokes as a tribute to beauty and immortality.

In a dark, damp cell with spider webs on the walls and rat droppings on the floor, a prisoner, shackled and chained, carefully inscribes his calligraphy on a piece of fine silk stretched over a wooden board. Not only does Huấn Cao offer his calligraphy, but he also gives the jailer a sincere piece of advice, born from his pure heart: “In this place, it’s hard to maintain one’s moral integrity. I suggest you find another place to live. It’s difficult to keep your soul clean here, and eventually, you will lose your integrity.” This advice is not just a warning, but a confirmation of a deeper truth: beauty cannot coexist with evil, and good people cannot live and work in evil circumstances.

Moved by this advice, the jailer is deeply emotional and gains a new understanding of his own life. He has long been living in prison, not as his true self, but as a prisoner of his circumstances. He has not been free to pursue his desires or understand the purpose of his life. Huấn Cao’s calligraphy, along with his words of wisdom, represent a transfer of character and freedom, as well as a passing on of beauty, igniting a desire to escape the shackles of a corrupt, immoral profession and return to a life of moral purity. The jailer bows his head and says, “I accept your words,” not in a submissive way, but as a gesture of respect for beauty, talent, and pure integrity. This bow, once again, elevates him, making him greater: “A lifetime spent bowing before the plum blossoms” (Cao Bá Quát). The jailer’s emotional response, “This ignorant person accepts your words,” marks a moment when pure goodness can indeed redeem goodness.

From Huấn Cao’s act of giving calligraphy, Nguyễn Tuân affirms the absolute supremacy of beauty. Beauty can appear anywhere, in any circumstance, even in places we least expect. It has the power to inspire, cleanse, and save the human soul. Beauty does not force us through violence; it conquers through its own essence. Beauty does not impose itself on us, but lifts us, guiding us willingly towards truth, goodness, and beauty. “Beauty has replaced ugliness, elevating mankind” (Dostoevsky). Through his effective use of artistic techniques, Nguyễn Tuân has successfully constructed the character of Huấn Cao and his interaction with the jailer. The exceptional story situation, the romantic style, and the symbolic details all contribute to portraying Huấn Cao’s character, talent, and soul, affirming the immortality and supremacy of beauty.

Through Huấn Cao, a quintessential figure of romantic literature, the author subtly expresses national spirit and a deep love for his country, as Huấn Cao continues to honor and cherish traditional cultural practices: calligraphy. This profound meaning has breathed life into “The Prisoner’s Word” and the entire collection “Vang bóng một thời,” ensuring that Nguyễn Tuân’s legacy will live on in the hearts of the people.

Pushkin once said, 'The soul is the impression of a work; plants live through light, birds live through song, and a work lives through the heart of the writer.' In this way, writer Nguyễn Tuân expressed his soul and crafted a timeless story with 'The Prisoner’s Calligraphy,' centered around the character Huấn Cao and his unique attitude toward the jailer.

Nguyễn Tuân, an artist forever in search of beauty, made significant contributions to modern Vietnamese literature, elevating the art of prose and enriching the language of literature. He brought a remarkable and unique style to modern prose, and was a patriotic intellectual who highly valued the individual spirit. A man of great talent and knowledge across various art forms, his career includes numerous short stories and essays. Nguyễn Tuân is well-known for his collection 'Vang bóng một thời,' which includes 11 short stories. These characters are scholars of the late feudal period, using their remarkable talent to contrast with the mundane world, presenting a noble lifestyle as a form of resistance to contemporary social norms. 'The Prisoner’s Calligraphy,' written in 1938, was originally titled 'The Last Words' and was first published in the journal 'Tao Đàn.' It was later renamed 'The Prisoner’s Calligraphy' and published in 'Vang bóng một thời' in 1940. The story uniquely portrays a meeting between Huấn Cao and the jailer.

The meeting created a special bond between Huấn Cao and the jailer. From a societal perspective, they were opposites: Huấn Cao, a rebel condemned to death, stood in opposition to the imperial government, while the jailer represented the feudal state, tasked with managing the prison and punishing prisoners. In artistic terms, they were like kindred spirits. Huấn Cao, a gifted man capable of creating beauty, and the jailer, a soul who admired and revered beauty. Huấn Cao is based on the historical figure Cao Bá Quát, who has a legendary aura. He represents an ideal character embodying wisdom and noble qualities. The jailer, though a secondary character, plays an important role in conveying the story’s themes.

Initially, Huấn Cao is unaware of the jailer’s intentions. His actions, like forcefully breaking the chains and knocking the head of the ladder to the ground despite threats from the soldiers, demonstrate his disregard for authority and show a strong, defiant attitude. He is a man with extraordinary strength and pride, an unwavering figure in control of his circumstances.

Later, Huấn Cao, when receiving special treatment, still remains indifferent to the offerings of food and wine, as though these were simple pleasures he had once enjoyed before imprisonment. This shows his calm and composed demeanor, unaffected by the prison environment. When the jailer opens the door and expresses his desire to offer special care, Huấn Cao dismisses him sharply, telling him not to set foot in the cell again. This reflects his arrogance, his refusal to bow before those he sees as lesser, revealing his proud, indomitable spirit. At this point, Huấn Cao sees the jailer as just another tool of the corrupt regime, dismissing him with disdain.

However, after realizing the jailer’s true intentions, Huấn Cao is moved and feels regret. He smiles and reflects on the jailer’s genuine respect and devotion. 'I understand your noble intentions. I never thought someone like you would have such refined tastes.' This moment of realization leads Huấn Cao to grant the jailer a final gift—his calligraphy. Previously, Huấn Cao reserved his writing only for those he considered true friends, but now he sees the jailer as such a companion. Compared to his earlier scornful attitude, this act represents his sincere repentance and unveils his philosophy: He would never bow to wealth or power, but he would kneel before noble hearts. This aligns with the philosophy of Cao Bá Quát: 'In my life, I have only bowed to the plum blossoms.' Through this act of granting his calligraphy to the jailer, Huấn Cao demonstrates his principle of reciprocating sincerity, giving beauty to those who appreciate it.

Furthermore, he advises the jailer: 'I suggest you leave this place... return to your homeland... then, think about calligraphy. It’s hard to preserve your pure soul here, and you might lose the goodness of life.' This advice reveals Huấn Cao as a man of wisdom and compassion. Through Huấn Cao’s evolving perspective, Nguyễn Tuân affirms the belief that beauty and goodness can arise even in the most brutal circumstances, but they cannot coexist with evil. True beauty can only flourish alongside a pure heart. The scene of Huấn Cao giving his calligraphy is a poignant moment, capturing the finest essence of Nguyễn Tuân’s writing. Thus, Huấn Cao embodies a comprehensive beauty, blending talent, courage, and integrity.

In constructing the relationship between Huấn Cao and the jailer, Nguyễn Tuân created a compelling and dramatic narrative, filled with surprises. The story employs classical Eastern artistic techniques to depict the cold mists and rising moon, while the jailer’s character adds an unexpected dimension to the story. Additionally, Nguyễn Tuân recreates the ancient atmosphere through the use of formal and archaic language, as well as romanticized writing techniques.

Through this, we see how Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the jailer changes with the circumstances. It is not just about the attitudes themselves, but the deep meanings behind them. They reflect an awareness of the value of talent, beauty, and integrity, each complementing and uplifting the others.

It has been said that: "Nguyễn Tuân is a phenomenon of cultural style." This comment is extremely accurate when we delve into his works. Every word, every sentence hides countless beautiful nuances, stirring one's soul with the elegance of the Vietnamese language. When discussing Nguyễn Tuân's most remarkable works, "Chữ người tử tù" stands out, particularly the character Huấn Cao. Set in a filthy, damp prison, the meeting between the hero of the time, Huấn Cao, and the representative of the decaying feudal system – the prison warden – forms one of the most thoughtfully constructed and humanistic scenarios.

The evolution of Huấn Cao's attitude is clearly demonstrated when we examine the situation before and after the story's events. Upon his arrival at the prison, Huấn Cao is cold and dismissive of the prison guards, who are in cahoots with the corrupt, reactionary officials of the court. Meanwhile, the warden is thrilled to learn that the man he admires will be under his custody. The warden arranges for Huấn Cao a private cell, providing him with food and drink in a manner that shows deep respect and care. However, at this point, Huấn Cao believes the warden is merely trying to trick him, enjoying his food and drink without acknowledging the warden’s attention. This is because the warden represents the oppressive court and the feudal power that traps people in their prisons, exploiting and torturing them indiscriminately. Therefore, no matter what the warden does, Huấn Cao continues to show contempt and indifference towards his attempts, a reflection of his heroic spirit and defiance against the evils of his time!

The warden quietly takes care of Huấn Cao, gradually showing respect and cherishing the beauty of art. So when the order comes for Huấn Cao to be taken away, the warden is filled with anxiety and concern. At that moment, the warden decides to visit Huấn Cao and reveal his feelings. Huấn Cao is startled, taken aback, and ultimately exclaims, "I almost missed an honest heart in this world." Indeed, in this filthy, oppressive prison, who could have imagined that someone would be so moved by the beauty of art and the noble qualities of humanity? Especially someone who represents the oppressive, cruel ruling class, always seeking to suppress the common people? Only by a stroke of luck did Huấn Cao realize that beneath the layers of corruption and power, there existed a noble soul longing for beauty.

Two people, representing different factions, born in different worlds, seemed destined never to cross paths. Yet, unexpectedly, they resonate with each other through art, valuing beauty and talent in each other's strokes and words. The warden admires Huấn Cao’s calligraphy and wishes for a day when he could hang one of his pieces on his wall. This noble aspiration, a soul elevated by beauty, shines through in any circumstance. When Huấn Cao decides to write, the oppressive space around them seems to light up. In stark contrast to the dark, narrow, damp prison cell, filled with cobwebs, rat and cockroach droppings – a place that seems like the bottom of society – Huấn Cao and the warden become focused, as if they were in a classical study, surrounded by the smell of ink and the rustling of parchment. Not only does Huấn Cao carefully craft his writing, but he also advises the warden to return to his hometown to preserve his noble nature, as a true friend would.

Huấn Cao’s transformation in different circumstances highlights the Vietnamese people’s deep-rooted respect for beauty, goodness, and the pursuit of excellence. Regardless of the era, even if someone appears to be a mere tool of the oppressive system, there still exists within them the heart of an artist, a longing for beauty in their character. With romantic writing techniques and the use of contrast, Nguyễn Tuân successfully portrays Huấn Cao and the surprising encounter between him and the warden.

"Chữ người tử tù" leaves a deep impression on us, with the psychological progression and character development of Huấn Cao evolving over time. Through the encounter between Huấn Cao and the warden, two opposing forces, like water and fire, are cleansed by beauty, talent, and heart. This encounter leads to the purification of the human soul, guiding human existence toward a brighter future, and revealing the noble spirit hidden in the darkness of the prison.

"The Prisoner’s Writing" is a short story from the collection *Echoes of the Past*, first published in 1940. This work is considered one of Nguyễn Tuân's masterpieces, most clearly expressing his concept of Beauty. Huấn Cao, the main character of the story, is depicted as a transcendent figure, a person with an immaculate character. Through Huấn Cao's changing attitude towards the prison warden, readers gain a deeper understanding of his rich, noble soul and remarkable talents.

From the outset of the story, through the exchange between the prison warden and the scribe, Nguyễn Tuân introduces Huấn Cao as an extraordinary individual. He is skilled both in literature and martial arts, famous for his ability to write beautiful Chinese characters, known throughout Sơn Province. The authorities view Huấn Cao as a dangerous man, a leader of rebellious forces opposing the imperial court.

With both a rebellious spirit and exceptional talent, Huấn Cao is indeed a unique prisoner. It is likely that the warden, impressed by Huấn Cao’s talent and sense of honor as heard in rumors, treats him with unusual respect. Every day, the warden has the scribe bring Huấn Cao wine and meat in his prison cell. Initially indifferent and dismissive of such special treatment, Huấn Cao’s attitude evolves, and this change reveals more about his character and soul. In the early days of imprisonment, Huấn Cao shows complete indifference to this extra care. For half a month, he receives wine from the thin scribe before every meal, with an air of politeness: 'Our warden sends you this humble gift to warm your stomach.'

In the cold prison cell, Huấn Cao calmly accepts the wine, as though it were nothing more than a familiar luxury from his days before imprisonment. When the warden himself visits the cell, greeting Huấn Cao with reverence and calling him a person of noble character, asking if there is anything more he needs, Huấn Cao responds arrogantly: 'You ask me what I want? I want just one thing: do not set foot in here.' This response is that of a man with unyielding courage, refusing to bow before power. Huấn Cao expects the warden to retaliate with cruelty, but even in the face of his imminent execution, Huấn Cao remains fearless.

However, contrary to Huấn Cao’s expectations, the warden simply bows and says, 'I understand, sir.' From that moment, the special treatment continues, even more generous than before. Huấn Cao is further perplexed: his fellow prisoners are also receiving such privileges. He begins to wonder if the warden is trying to pry into their secrets, but dismisses the thought, knowing that he has already confessed everything. Despite his earlier dismissiveness, Huấn Cao becomes increasingly aware of the warden’s attentive care.

Amidst the darkness of the prison, Nguyễn Tuân compares the warden's gentle nature to a clear sound cutting through a chaotic and dissonant melody. It is likely that the warden’s kindness and appreciation for beauty move Huấn Cao’s heart. The contempt Huấn Cao initially feels for the warden disappears in a dramatic moment: one cold afternoon, the warden, pale and weary after receiving an order, informs Huấn Cao that he and his comrades are to be transferred to the capital for execution. Huấn Cao, once cold and distant, now realizes the warden’s sincerity and begins to understand why he has been treated with such respect. Huấn Cao is touched by the warden’s genuine admiration for beauty and his recognition of Huấn Cao as a person of worth. Huấn Cao reflects for a moment and then smiles: 'Tell your master, when the guards are off duty tonight, bring me some silk, ink, and brushes, and I will write for you. The art of writing is indeed valuable. I have never been compelled to write for gold or power. In my life, I have only written two sets of couplets and one central scroll for three of my closest friends. I appreciate your rare understanding and appreciation of beauty. I had no idea that someone like you, a prison official, could possess such noble tastes. I almost missed recognizing such a rare heart.'

That very night, an unprecedented scene unfolded in the prison: Huấn Cao wrote for the warden. The damp, dark cell contrasted with the dignified, elegant strokes of Huấn Cao’s calligraphy, a moment of spiritual transcendence between two kindred souls. Moved by the warden’s character, Huấn Cao offered him a sincere piece of advice: 'You are in the wrong place. I advise you to leave this occupation and go to the countryside. It is difficult to maintain one’s integrity in this environment, and eventually, the soul will become tainted.' This was the fourth and final time in Huấn Cao’s life that he gave away his writing. He recognized the value of his calligraphy, having given it previously to only three close friends. Now, he was offering it to a man he had once despised. What had changed in his heart to lead him to this decision? It was the warden’s respect for beauty and his genuine admiration for Huấn Cao that moved him. Huấn Cao’s noble self-respect had met with the warden’s rare understanding, and this mutual respect transformed their relationship.

The scene of Huấn Cao writing for the warden was surreal, almost like a mythical vision: in the smoky air of the cell, the red light from the oil-soaked torch illuminated the three figures focused on a pristine sheet of silk. The prison guard, humbled and respectful, placed copper coins over the inked characters to mark the spaces. The scribe, trembling, held the ink bowl. After finishing the character, Huấn Cao sighed, helping the warden to his feet, and said: 'You are in the wrong place. I advise you to leave and go to the countryside, where you can preserve your integrity. Here, it is hard to remain virtuous.' The warden, deeply moved, bowed and spoke, his voice choked with emotion: 'I, the foolish one, humbly accept your wisdom.' Although the three had not understood each other before, in this moment, they were united by their shared love and respect for Beauty – the beauty of both the written word and the soul.

Huấn Cao’s sudden change in attitude towards the warden is completely justified and in line with his character. Why did he initially respond indifferently and coldly to the warden’s kindness? Perhaps the warden understood Huấn Cao better than anyone else, and Huấn Cao did not harbor any resentment towards him. He understood that those who stir up trouble against authority rarely recognize the worth of the people they encounter. The warden’s treatment of Huấn Cao was a gesture of respect, not submission, and Huấn Cao’s pride and defiance could not be swayed by mere prison privileges. His initial disdain towards the warden was a result of the vast gulf between them: one a prisoner facing execution, the other an agent of oppressive power. Deep down, Huấn Cao regarded himself as a man of higher virtue, and thus, his initial attitude was both understandable and fitting. It did not anger the warden but instead deepened his respect for Huấn Cao.

If Huấn Cao had not changed his attitude towards the warden, the beauty of his character would have remained incomplete. However, Nguyễn Tuân made sure that Huấn Cao became the symbol of Perfect Beauty, not only in talent and courage but in his noble soul. Upon learning the warden’s true desire, Huấn Cao was deeply moved. His change of heart reveals his high moral qualities. Beyond his exceptional abilities and bravery, Huấn Cao was a man who could recognize and value the beauty of the human soul, even when that beauty was hidden in an unlikely place. This transformation was natural, as Huấn Cao realized the warden’s rare understanding of beauty and his respect for the art of calligraphy. Huấn Cao’s innate goodness and compassion for humanity made his encounter with the warden inevitable.

The change in Huấn Cao’s attitude towards the warden holds deep significance in the story. It reveals his noble nature, not just his talents or bravery, but his ability to recognize and appreciate beauty. Through his new perspective, Huấn Cao also acknowledges the warden’s worth, as Nguyễn Tuân eloquently describes the warden as a clear sound amidst the chaos. The warden’s rare ability to recognize and protect Beauty stands in stark contrast to the decaying feudal society of the time.

Huấn Cao’s attitude shifted from arrogance to warmth, yet he maintained his dignified, noble bearing, embodying the ideals of a true gentleman who values character, even in the most dire circumstances. Nguyễn Tuân succeeded in placing the two characters, Huấn Cao and the warden, side by side, allowing them to complement each other and highlight the eternal value of Beauty in the story. Through *Echoes of the Past*, Nguyễn Tuân achieved his goal of honoring the traditional spiritual beauty of the nation. His story *The Prisoner’s Writing* has left a lasting impression on readers, with the figure of Huấn Cao symbolizing the ideal beauty that humanity aspires to and reveres.

Did Nguyễn Tuân have a deeper meaning behind writing *The Prisoner’s Writing*? Certainly, the author sought to express his deep regret for the loss of such a remarkable, honorable figure at a time when the nation was in decline. At the same time, he subtly wove in the collective pain of a nation oppressed by colonizers, where all that was beautiful and talented was ruthlessly trampled by foreign powers.

Nguyễn Tuân is one of the most notable writers in Vietnamese literature to date. His works are often celebrated for their artistic success. In addition to his romantic style, the use of contrasts, and other techniques, his skillful portrayal of characters leaves a lasting impression, contributing to the success of his short stories. This is vividly demonstrated through the psychology of the protagonist in the story – the character Huấn Cao, especially in the way he responds to the warden.

Huấn Cao is a character created with all the admiration and respect of the author. He is a hero, courageous and gifted with extraordinary talent for calligraphy, excelling in both the arts and martial skills. He refuses to submit to the oppressive and unjust society, instead leading a revolt against the imperial government. In the end, his life of exceptional ability and heroism is tragically cut short as he is imprisoned.

Through his mastery of character development, the author sets the story in a unique setting – the prison, which becomes the “ideal” place for a confrontation between two conflicting ideologies – two opposing forces: on one side are the corrupt, conservative, and cruel imperial officials; on the other, the “rebels” – heroes fighting against tyranny. Huấn Cao understands this better than anyone, and initially expresses his defiance through contempt for the warden. However, as fate often twists, the warden of Sơn province, where Huấn Cao is held, is not entirely the villain Huấn Cao perceives him to be.

The warden is initially thought to be a stark contrast to Huấn Cao. However, in reality, he is a man of noble heart who deeply respects and admires Huấn Cao’s calligraphy. He is a person with a shred of “moral integrity,” a remnant of humanity. The character of the warden, along with that of Huấn Cao, presents a beautiful and admirable image of a person with a high moral standing. Despite being in the midst of a cruel and dangerous environment, the warden is able to awaken his conscience.

Upon realizing this, Huấn Cao, with the grace and nobility of a true scholar, humbles himself to uplift and redeem a soul teetering on the brink of wrongdoing. Huấn Cao dedicates the final lines of his life to the warden, offering heartfelt advice from the depths of his soul, urging him to return to the path of virtue.

This shift in Huấn Cao’s attitude is a complex dialectical process. Upon his first encounter with the warden, Huấn Cao’s response is one of defiance: “break the shackles.” Within this act of defiance lies a deep contempt for the prison guards, whom he sees as nothing more than pests. Once inside the prison, Huấn Cao continues to display his disdain, remaining unyielding and scornful despite the warden’s kind gestures. When the warden, out of sympathy, offers to help him, Huấn Cao responds coldly: “You ask what I want? I want nothing more than for you to stay away from here.” In this way, Huấn Cao, even in the midst of captivity, remains free-spirited, showing his contempt for the guards and undermining their authority.

It can be said that Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the warden is inevitable, as he initially sees him as a representative of the government he despises. To Huấn Cao, the warden is his enemy. Huấn Cao, a man of immense talent, is also a symbol of virtue and heroism. He sacrificed his life for a righteous cause, and with such a noble character, he scorns those who serve an unjust regime. His famous words, “I will never be coerced by wealth, power, or fame…” echo the ideals of other literary figures like Cao Bá Quát, whose “In my lifetime, I will never bow to a plum blossom,” or Lu Xun’s “I disdain a thousand strongmen,” and even the concept that “A man only kneels in two situations: to drink from the source or to pick flowers.” With such integrity, Huấn Cao views the warden as a petty servant of the corrupt government, someone beneath his regard.

Huấn Cao’s attitude only deepens our admiration for him. He refuses to bow before tyranny, standing firm against injustice with a spirit as radiant as the sun, as pure as spring water, and as noble as a mountain blossom. If the story were to continue in this direction, it would still be impactful. However, Nguyễn Tuân, a writer with a unique personality, does not follow conventional paths. The warden in Nguyễn Tuân’s story is not the typical villain. Instead, he is a character with complex and mysterious depths. Understanding this, Huấn Cao changes his attitude entirely.

Huấn Cao realizes his mistake, reflecting on how he almost misunderstood the warden’s noble heart. He recognizes that he almost failed to appreciate this “kind soul.” Despite his initial reluctance to share his calligraphy, Huấn Cao dedicates the final lines of his life to the warden. Not only that, but he also regards the warden as a confidant, offering him words of wisdom. The scene where Huấn Cao gives his calligraphy to the warden is one of the most moving and memorable moments in Vietnamese literature.

Indeed, it is a “scene like none before.” Nguyễn Tuân pours his skill and creativity into this moment, using his writing to elevate the act of giving and admiring calligraphy to a sacred, almost ritualistic level. The scene, usually reserved for the serene study of learned individuals, is set in the prison, a cramped, damp, and foul-smelling place. However, on the night before Huấn Cao is to be taken to the capital to face his punishment, this sacred act of writing takes place in the darkest of places. Here, the giver of calligraphy is a condemned prisoner, while the recipient is a warden, someone society considers insignificant. Despite being physically imprisoned, Huấn Cao’s soul remains free and elevated, while the warden, “trembling,” humbly accepts the gift, as if receiving a blessing.

In the deep, dark silence of the prison, the air heavy with the stench of crime and injustice, a torch flares brightly, and the fragrance of ink fills the room. The light from the torch and the scent of the ink represent the brilliance of virtue, the spirit of sacred calligraphy, and the purity of character. The brightness of the torch illuminates the “three heads huddled together” on the white silk cloth, untouched by the surrounding darkness. This sacred and solemn scene cannot be dimmed by the filth of the prison or the stench of the rats. It is the radiance of the soul, the fragrance of virtue, and the purity of calligraphy that fills the room.

The beauty of this moment, the voice of Huấn Cao’s advice to the warden, is a call for the warden to return to the path of righteousness. The warden, humbled and overwhelmed, can only respond with a heartfelt, “I accept, sir.” In this moment, beauty has triumphed over evil, just as Dostoevsky said, “Beauty will save the world.” The silence of the room, punctuated only by Huấn Cao’s sincere words, emphasizes that beauty and goodness cannot coexist with evil. After Huấn Cao’s words, the room falls silent, a silence that allows the goodness and beauty to resonate in the hearts of all who witness it. In this moment, Huấn Cao and the warden, once enemies, have come together, united in their reverence for beauty and goodness.

The change in Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the warden is not surprising. In fact, Huấn Cao is a man of strong character, and the warden is not entirely evil. Their mutual respect for beauty and virtue brings them together. Thus, their journey from opposition to harmony reflects the power of calligraphy to transcend moral divides. Furthermore, Huấn Cao’s character reveals his sensitivity, generosity, and respect for those with moral integrity. He offers his calligraphy as a gift to a man whom society deems a criminal, recognizing in him a kindred spirit.

By successfully depicting the evolution of Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the warden, Nguyễn Tuân highlights the beauty of the character he so admires. Huấn Cao is an ideal figure, embodying talent, courage, generosity, and the perfect symbol of beauty and virtue. Through the changes in Huấn Cao’s character, the author affirms that goodness can emerge from evil (the warden’s moral integrity is revealed in prison), but goodness cannot coexist with evil (Huấn Cao initially scorns the warden, thinking him evil, but later advises him to leave the prison to preserve his integrity).

Huấn Cao is a perfect literary figure, one of the most beautiful creations in Vietnamese literature. However, this image is not rigid or idealized in the hands of the author. On the contrary, it is vibrant, filled with logical and dialectical emotional development. This further highlights the success of “The Calligraphy of a Condemned Man” and praises Nguyễn Tuân’s unparalleled talent in Vietnamese literature, which rarely produces literary figures of such grandeur. Huấn Cao in “The Calligraphy of a Condemned Man” is depicted as noble, admirable, and unyielding even in the face of death, setting an example for future generations to follow.

It can be affirmed that Nguyễn Tuân is a highly respected figure in Vietnamese literature: "To mention Nguyễn Tuân and simply call him a writer in the conventional, honorific sense of the term would still seem somewhat incomplete. Nguyễn Tuân is not just a writer but a cultural phenomenon. His personality and style are as uniquely beautiful as his sentences. His writing is unmatched in the art of the Vietnamese language" (Phan Huy Chú). Indeed, Nguyễn Tuân has contributed not only a distinctive style but also significant works to Vietnamese literature. A key example of his work is "Chữ người tử tù" (The Prisoner’s Writing). Through this piece, we see that Huấn Cao is not only a skilled hero but also a person who deeply values the moral integrity of others, exemplified in the integrity of the prison warden.

The story is about the hero Huấn Cao, who dares to stand alone against the feudal court. This background reveals the protagonist’s qualities and personality. Huấn Cao is not only a hero but also a gifted individual, particularly in the art of calligraphy. Alongside Huấn Cao is the figure of the prison warden, who, although from an entirely different social stratum, shares a common love for the art of writing. The warden admires Huấn Cao’s skill in writing and has the noble desire to have a piece of Huấn Cao’s calligraphy to hang in his home.

This noble wish, along with his respect for beauty, reflects the author’s views on aesthetics. In Nguyễn Tuân’s works, beauty is always exalted in all circumstances. The warden’s noble desire and his reluctance to part with Huấn Cao’s writing embody this admiration. Moreover, the story presents the beauty of goodness and human integrity. However, the journey to reveal the warden’s moral integrity to Huấn Cao, as well as the warden’s path to achieving his noble wish, is a lengthy one. But how did Huấn Cao respond to the special treatment from the warden? What was the progression of his attitude?

Initially, when Huấn Cao was arrested and brought to the prison under the warden’s control, he remained cold and disdainful towards the warden. At that point, Huấn Cao had not yet recognized the warden’s integrity and believed that the warden was just another agent of the oppressive feudal regime, worthy of contempt. Meanwhile, the warden, upon hearing that Huấn Cao was brought to the prison, was excited to meet the person he respected. He offered food and drink to Huấn Cao and gave him a separate cell. However, Huấn Cao remained suspicious and thought that the warden had some hidden agenda.

Huấn Cao even considered that the warden might poison him with the food and drink, but he was unafraid because he had already accepted his fate in prison, knowing that death was inevitable, whether sooner or later. So, he ate and drank without concern. The warden, attempting to engage with him, was met with only disdainful words and looks from Huấn Cao, as though Huấn Cao were trying to dismiss him. Clearly, Huấn Cao had no regard for the warden’s kindness or attention. In the dark prison, Huấn Cao despised everything related to the outdated feudal regime. Thus, the warden’s gestures failed to reach the heart of this hero.

At this point, Huấn Cao showed no interest in the warden, and his attitude was one of contempt. So how did Huấn Cao’s attitude toward the warden evolve after understanding him? After a while, Huấn Cao learned of the warden’s sincere feelings, thanks to the prison clerk. If it hadn’t been for the clerk, Huấn Cao might have missed out on discovering a pure heart. Huấn Cao’s writing was precious, and he rarely shared it with anyone outside of his close friends. But upon hearing the warden’s heartfelt desire, Huấn Cao agreed immediately. Upon hearing this, Huấn Cao exclaimed, “I almost failed to appreciate a pure heart in this world.” From this, we can see that Huấn Cao’s attitude towards the warden had shifted from disdain to respect for such a virtuous individual.

When Huấn Cao decided to grant the warden his writing, the contrast between the grim prison and the act of writing created a transcendent beauty. This moment not only brought them closer but also symbolized the appreciation for beauty and purity. After completing the writing, Huấn Cao advised the warden to return to his hometown, for if he remained in the prison, his integrity would be lost. It is clear that Huấn Cao now saw the warden as a friend or family member, offering this advice with genuine concern.

In conclusion, through various circumstances, Huấn Cao’s evolving attitude toward the warden is clear. His transformation from disdain to respect not only reflects his personal growth but also emphasizes the deeper message of valuing goodness and moral integrity in Nguyễn Tuân’s writing.