Top 6 Best Essays Analyzing the 'Golden Hue' in 'The Boatman of the Da River'

In the vast field of literature, the artist, small as a speck of dust, floats through the air, searching for the golden essence amid life's mess. For Nguyễn Tuân, the gold he found on his arduous journey was the purest gold of nature, highlighting the "golden soul" that went through the test of fire in the hearts of working people. This is vividly portrayed in the essay "The Boatman of the Sông Đà," particularly through the figure of the boatman.

Literature is a boundless source of inspiration for artists, and it is this inspiration that drives writers to seek new themes and pick up their pens. Every literary work is the result of a deep creative process, where artists dive into the vast sea of life to find their muse. This is why each work is a product of hardship. Like Nguyễn Tuân, the essay on Sông Đà is a beautiful artistic result he gained from his adventurous journey to the remote and vast Northwest of the country. It was during this journey that he encountered a scene that stirred his emotions — the inner beauty of the workers, which he saw through the lens of nature's splendor, a beauty that he calls "golden essence tested by fire." This is all expressed through the figure of the boatman in "The Boatman of the Sông Đà." Under Nguyễn Tuân's delicate pen, every character becomes fresh and unique, with the boatman serving as the quintessential embodiment of "gold tested by fire."

Here, "golden essence" represents the inner beauty of the laborer, embodied in the boatman, whose beauty has been forged by the fiery eyes of Nguyễn Tuân, which are like a burning flame. In the work, Nguyễn Tuân builds the character of the boatman with two contrasting qualities: indomitable courage and the artistic talent of a master. These opposing traits highlight Nguyễn Tuân's artistic style.

As we enter the work, we immediately encounter the title "The Boatman of the Sông Đà." Here, the author vividly portrays the Sông Đà River, but it is not the river that stands at the heart of the story; rather, the focus is on the boatman. He describes the river in detail only to enhance the image of the boatman. The inherent beauty of the small figure is drawn out by the author. If the Sông Đà appears majestic and fierce, the boatman, in contrast, displays supreme courage to master it, while the river’s poetic charm mirrors the artistic talent of the boatman, a perfect harmony that Nguyễn Tuân perceives in him.

The boatman’s indomitable spirit and resilience are portrayed in his epic battle with the Sông Đà. Here, we see the contrast between the frail boatman and the fierce river. The boatman, old and small, with only six oars as his weapons, faces the ferocious Sông Đà, whose waves roar like a beast ready to devour him. Yet, with unwavering courage, the boatman bravely pushes forward. The river, ruthless, has its own strategic assaults: the first with four death traps and one escape route, the second with fewer death traps and a new escape route on the other side, and the third with only two death traps, but a more dangerous current. Despite these relentless assaults, the boatman uses his sharp eyes and skill to adapt to every wave, managing to keep the boat afloat and fight back, even when exhausted and pale, determined to continue the struggle.

The boatman is not just a worker but a hero, one who knows every current, every rock, even the commas and periods of the river. He is unbeatable, no matter how violent the Sông Đà becomes. After successive attacks, the boatman grips his oars, charging forward like a general leading his troops. He rides the waves with the force of a tiger taming a wild steed, making his way through the maze of rocks with grace and skill. Despite his age and the challenge of the waters, the boatman’s experience and quiet dedication make him seem like a living legend of the river. He embodies the essence of the hardworking Vietnamese farmer, representing "gold tested by fire," as Nguyễn Tuân so insightfully captures, showing something the literary world had overlooked. Through Nguyễn Tuân’s words, this new discovery becomes even more striking.

Moreover, the "golden essence" is also represented in the boatman’s artistic soul. It is like a hidden gem deep within his heart, a beauty only true writers can uncover. As Nguyễn Minh Châu once said, "A writer must be someone who seeks the hidden gems in the human soul." For Nguyễn Tuân, being an artist is not confined to those who practice art professionally; it extends to those who dedicate themselves to their craft, no matter the profession. The boatman, with his art of navigating the river and mastering its challenges, is indeed a true artist. His work, which was once undervalued before the revolution, is now portrayed as noble, a silent contribution to the revolution itself. His everyday labor is both his livelihood and a service to society, much like an unsung hero striving for something greater.

In his river navigation artistry, the boatman is not just a skilled worker; he is an artist of nature, showcasing his talent with each journey. After his battle with the river, he retreats into a cave, tying a chicken to his boat — a symbol of home, of belonging. The cave is dark and cold, but it is here he lights a fire and sees the smoke of Sông Đà swirling around him. With his observant eyes, the boatman appears as a deity of the river, wielding his tiny boat like a commanding general amidst the fury of the river. It is thanks to people like him that the Sông Đà’s mythical power is subdued, and we come to see the beauty Nguyễn Tuân so deeply admires, a beauty not often found again.

The boatman’s beauty shines through in Nguyễn Tuân’s masterful writing. His portrayal of the boatman is like a stable portrait standing in the Sông Đà, a golden essence that no other writer has captured before. Through Nguyễn Tuân’s pen, the boatman emerges as a flexible laborer, a symbol of the human ability to tame nature, making it serve humankind. This noble act is portrayed deeply, making the work even more distinctive.

Nguyen Tuan, the writer who dedicated his life to seeking beauty, discovered the "pure gold" in the nature and people of the Northwestern region after his journey there. This essence is vividly portrayed through the image of the boatman in his essay "Song Da".

Firstly, Nguyen Tuan uncovered in this laboring person the beauty of courage and resilience. With just a few masterful strokes, the writer carved the image of the boatman as a hero on the river. He places his character in an extreme situation where all these qualities are revealed, with the ultimate price being one's life. The writer refers to this as the arduous battle of the boatman on the battlefield of Song Da, in a water combat zone on the Song Da front. This is the perilous rapids crossing, a dangerous task that unfolds in multiple rounds, much like a battle with a clear enemy face and intention. Only when we understand the grandeur and danger of the "water monster" of Song Da can we truly appreciate the boatman's cleverness and bravery. The piece opens with the quote "Chúng thủy giai đông tẩu – Đà giang độc bắc lưu", emphasizing the uniqueness of Song Da: all rivers flow east, but only Song Da flows north, symbolizing the distinctive nature of both the river and Nguyen Tuan. We are left astonished by the imposing and ferocious nature of the river. The riverbank is steep, with towering cliffs. At this spot, the river only sees sunlight at noon. "The cliffs choke the heart of Song Da like a throat. Standing on one side of the shore, one can toss a stone across to the opposite cliff. In some places, even deer and tigers have jumped from one side to the other." "Sitting in the boat through this stretch, it feels like summer but cold, as if standing in an alley, gazing at a window that has just turned off the light." Through his unique similes, Nguyen Tuan highlights the river's danger and mystery. The river is narrow, the current is swift, and the towering cliffs create an incredibly dangerous environment. Imagine a boat stuck in a narrow gap, unable to move forward or backward, waiting only for the waves and rocks to crush it. "No boat dares to approach the whirlpools, all boats paddle quickly to get through the stretch of river", "row quickly and steer firmly to leap over the deep whirlpools", "many rafts have been swept into those whirlpools, sinking, vanishing into the depths of the river, their wrecks appearing only minutes later at the bend of the river." This haunting danger confronts the boatman, who faces it for over a decade without fear, conquering it. He commands the boat to navigate through the perilous checkpoints, enduring pain yet suppressing his wounds, truly resembling a valiant, heroic commander.

Not only is the boatman brave and resilient, but he also embodies the beauty of a master artist, particularly through his fierce encounters with the water, waves, wind, and rocks in three stages of rock warfare. In the first battle stage, readers are especially struck by the description of the rocks being personified as an army: "large rocks, boulders"..."defender rocks" set up a defense with five openings, four of which are lethal, and one is safe. The writer employs a series of repetitive verbs to emphasize the strength of the rocky army: "ambushing", "rising up", "standing, sitting, lying according to preference", "devouring", "guarding the gates", "chin thrusting"...These verbs are paired with adjectives highlighting their ferocity: "obstinate", "wrinkled", "twisted..." All of this magnifies the strength and terror of the river's rocks, creating an imbalance with the lone boatman, sending chills and suspense into the reader. Alongside the rocks, the water joins forces, with the waves roaring to support the rocks, creating a deafening sound that intensifies the ferocity of the battle. The waves unleash dangerous strikes, like close combat, sweeping blows, and knee thrusts... It can be said that Nguyen Tuan expanded his erudition and brilliance, infusing rich, dynamic language into every aspect of life, channeling military and sports terminology to vividly depict the rock and water forces of Song Da. This is the art of painting clouds to push the moon, indirectly praising the boatman's perfect valor. At this stage, the writer admires the boatman’s extraordinary endurance, "the boatman suppresses his wounds, his legs still gripping the rudder tightly"... The short, concise command is given, and he triumphs, "breaking through the first rock formation". In the second rock formation, the rocks and waves increase the number of lethal openings, "the thundering waterfall roars fiercely", "four or five water soldiers constantly provoke"... The strong verbs continue to pour out, enhanced by unique similes and personifications that turn the waves into sacred tigers, elevating the river’s power to the peak of Song Da to further highlight the boatman’s heroic stance. The boatman "never pauses, always breaks through the second defense and changes tactics", "he masters the military strategy of the river and the rocks, fully understanding the ambush rules of the stones" so that he confidently and quickly takes control of the situation, "riding the rapids like riding a tiger, gripping the wave's mane, steering firmly, rushing through, and splitting the waterfall to clear the path". The series of strong verbs seem to immerse the reader in the struggle of the waves, evoking the feeling of seasickness, allowing us to admire the boatman’s intellect, bravery, and resilience. If in the first and second battles, Nguyen Tuan emphasizes the boatman’s perfect balance of intellect and courage, in the third stage, Nguyen Tuan reveals the boatman's mastery of his craft. He describes how "on the left and right are death traps", requiring the boatman to apply his professional skill, lifting the boat above the water as an artist would perform a stunt on a flying motorcycle, "cutting through the surface of the water"... The repeated strong verbs "soaring" and "cutting through" emphasize the speed and power of the boat's movement, while numerous similes further highlight the boatman’s cleverness and dexterity.

Nguyen Tuan discovered the "pure gold" in the people of the Northwestern region. They are anonymous laborers who embody a beauty that is both heroic and artistic, full of hope and trust in a new era and a new life.

Nguyễn Tuân is one of the most talented and knowledgeable writers in modern Vietnamese literature. His artistic style is unique, and he excels in the essay genre. One of his most remarkable works is the essay "Người lái đò sông Đà" (The Boatman of the Da River), which is featured in the collection "Sông Đà" (1960). This piece is the result of an extensive journey where Nguyễn Tuân traveled to the Northwest to discover the 'pure gold' of nature and the hardworking people of the region. In this essay, beyond the symbolic Da River, the boatman himself stands as a distinctive figure that encapsulates Nguyễn Tuân's artistic signature.

Firstly, we must understand that the term “gold” in the writer’s context does not refer to its literal meaning. Nguyễn Tuân uses gold—a precious and beautiful metal—as a metaphor for the noble qualities of those working and fighting in the magnificent, picturesque mountain regions. However, this beauty and preciousness is not easily found; it hides in the remote areas, waiting for a discoverer who, through their talent, will immortalize it in literature and offer it to the world as the ‘golden treasure’ of nature, the country, and humanity. The essay confirms Nguyễn Tuân’s success in capturing and building the image of the boatman as a symbol of the simple yet valuable life of hard-working people.

Indeed, in "Người lái đò sông Đà", Nguyễn Tuân uncovers the ‘golden essence’ of the Da River: 'Đà Giang độc bắc lưu' (The Da River, flowing in the north), a river known for its ferocity and vitality. The violent character of the river is expressed through submerged rocks and violent rapids. Yet, amidst this turbulence, the Da River also symbolizes the powerful and majestic beauty of nature. The fierceness and grandeur of the Da River can be seen in scenes where 'the riverbank rocks are as tall as mountains,' or 'the water crashes against rocks, waves crash against the winds, whirling and gnashing all year long,' followed by the swirling whirlpools...

Especially in the fierce and untamed nature of the Da River, we also see the value of its waters, represented by hydroelectric turbines. This symbolizes the ‘gold’ of the nation's natural resources. Therefore, the preciousness lies in the potential power that resides in the wild, free-flowing strength of the river.

But the ‘gold’ of the river is not only found in its value, but also in the beauty of the Da River. The river is depicted as a poetic and romantic entity, flowing like a long tress of hair, or like 'a dark hair streak stretching across the horizon.' The scenery along the banks of the river is equally enchanting: 'as ancient as the dawn of time,' and 'innocent like the childhood dreams of fairy tales.' The beauty of the river is vividly depicted using a series of stunning metaphors.

Along with the preciousness of nature, there is the equally valuable image of the laborers in the Northwest. In the essay, the ‘golden treasure’ of the workers is symbolized by the boatman. Nguyễn Tuân intentionally uses the word “gold” to reflect the colors of the river’s landscapes and “pure gold” to signify the beauty and value of human labor. The writer subtly suggests that the precious qualities of human character and talent are forged in life’s trials, much like gold is purified through fire. While the natural resources of the Northwest are precious, the people of the region are even more valuable in their struggle to conquer and reshape nature.

In the story, the boatman, though ordinary and unnamed, symbolizes the hard-working, anonymous people of the land. His life as a boatman on the Da River is a testament to the grandeur that comes from labor and overcoming the river’s wild forces. The boatman becomes a representative, a symbol of the ordinary laborer: nameless, ageless, and from an unknown place. He works in harsh, tumultuous conditions, yet remains a hero of the land.

The boatman is a seasoned worker, having been in the trade for over ten years, navigating the river hundreds of times. The descriptions of his appearance show that he is a true master of his craft. Nguyễn Tuân further emphasizes that the boatman is the very soul of the river, having sailed its waters for decades, learning every curve and eddy of the Da River.

The boatman’s expertise is evident in his intimate knowledge of the river, with its seventy-three rapids, which he memorizes meticulously, as though engraving them into his mind. For him, the Da River is an epic saga, one he knows as intimately as the lines of a poem.

Nguyễn Tuân’s attention to detail in describing the rapids and the boatman’s years of experience reveals the deep connection he shares with his profession. The writer’s admiration for the boatman is clear—this is not simply a man, but a person born of the waves and rapids, his life intertwined with the forces of nature that define the Da River.

The boatman’s intelligence and courage are necessary to overcome the daily challenges of his labor. Nguyễn Tuân places his character into the heart of the river’s perilous conditions, where every decision could cost a life. The Da River presents an unforgiving challenge to the boatman.

The writer describes the boatman’s struggle as a battle on the river’s battlefield, a series of fierce rapids that resemble a military campaign. The river creates dangerous traps, with rocks hidden in its depths, waiting to strike at any boat that dares to venture into its curves. The boatman, with his mastery of the river, maneuvers through these dangers like a skilled general leading his troops to victory.

In this “battle,” the boatman remains calm, composed, and strategic, as he deftly navigates his boat through the rapids. Even when injured, he presses on, determined to steer his boat to safety, applying the wisdom of an experienced commander to guide his vessel through the tumultuous waters.

Ultimately, the boatman is portrayed as a true artist, a master of his craft. Nguyễn Tuân respects him as a “flower of the craft,” embodying the perfection of skill and memory. His ability to navigate the dangerous rapids demonstrates not only his expertise but also his mastery of the river’s laws, allowing him the freedom to maneuver as he sees fit. This mastery is what makes him a true artist in his own right.

The most unique and outstanding quality of the Da River boatman is his artistic demeanor. In Nguyễn Tuân’s writing, the concept of an artist is expansive—it's not limited to poets or writers but includes anyone whose craft reaches the level of extraordinary skill. The boatman is portrayed as an artist, a master of his craft, skillfully navigating the river as a painter creates masterpieces on a canvas. In this essay, Nguyễn Tuân successfully creates an image of the boatman as a true artist, demonstrating how mastery of one’s craft elevates them beyond the ordinary.

The “golden treasure” in this context refers to the boatman’s courage, intellect, and extraordinary skill. His ability to navigate the dangerous rapids with finesse is a testament to his refined abilities, his mastery of the river and its intricacies. His artistic precision in steering the boat through the rapids represents the ‘pure gold’ that shines amidst the grandeur of the nation’s natural beauty.

In the end, Nguyễn Tuân captures the essence of the boatman’s artistry and the value of human labor in the face of nature’s challenges. The boatman represents a new, modern kind of worker—humble yet heroic, resourceful, and self-sufficient. His artistry in navigating the Da River is what makes him truly valuable, just as the river’s power is harnessed through the ingenuity of its people.

In “The Epic of the Road to the Land of Desire,” Nguyễn Khoa Điềm once wrote:

Oh, where do the rivers gather their waters

And when they reach our Land, they carry with them songs

Sung by the one who rows, guiding the boat through the rapids

Calling forth the hundred colors, a hundred shapes of the rivers flowing...

The stunning beauty of Vietnam’s rivers is shaped by thousands of rivers, both large and small. From the rivers of the plains that bring fertile soil to the highland rivers rich with hydroelectric potential, each has its own unique beauty. For Nguyễn Tuân, the writer who dedicated his life to discovering beauty, one river particularly captivated him: The Đà River. Nguyễn Tuân regarded the beauty of the Đà River as the "purest gold of the colors of the Northwest’s mountains and rivers."

Pure gold is not only beautiful but also immensely valuable. Perhaps that’s why the author referred to the Đà River as “pure gold.” The Đà River is beautiful, yet its beauty is quite unique, beginning with its direction. Right from the start of his work, Nguyễn Tuân quotes two lines of poetry from Nguyễn Quang Bích:

“All rivers flow eastward

But the Đà River alone flows northward”

While every other river flows towards the east, the Đà River confidently flows northward, standing alone in this direction. Perhaps that’s why it possesses two distinct characteristics: fierce and yet profoundly lyrical.

The Đà River is first and foremost a river with many rapids and gorges. Its grandeur is illustrated by towering rocks along its banks. These cliffs are so high that “the surface of the river there only sees sunlight at noon.” The river even “chokes the riverbed like a throat.” Here, Nguyễn Tuân uses metaphors and comparisons with great success, vividly depicting the height of the cliffs and the ominous, foreboding nature of the river. The sound of the river’s roar is also frightening, continuously thundering, “like the sound of a debt collector.” The Hát Loóng rapids, where the water crashes violently, are a perilous place for boatmen to navigate, as their boats may easily capsize. The author skillfully uses repetition to make the river’s force seem even more fierce and overwhelming. The Đà River is brutal also because of its deadly whirlpools. These whirlpools are like giant concrete wells meant for building bridges, sometimes “breathing and moaning like a sewer opening,” other times “gurgling as though hot oil is being poured in.” The horrific whirlpools are made even more terrifying by words like “breathe,” “moan,” and “gurgling,” intensifying their dreadfulness. In this part, Nguyễn Tuân displays his extraordinary intellectual prowess by drawing from various fields—cinema, music, painting, and construction—to describe the grandeur and violence of the Đà River. He is perhaps the first to compare water to fire: “it roars like a thousand buffaloes rampaging through bamboo and rattan forests, setting them ablaze.” Water and fire, both capable of massive destruction and natural enemies, are now combined under Nguyễn Tuân’s expert hand to depict the majesty of the waterfall. The sound of the water is described as “full of resentment, then as if pleading, sometimes taunting, mocking.” The author anthropomorphizes the river, transforming it into a creature with its own contradictions, constantly growling and howling with terrifying sounds.

The grandeur of the Đà River is not just in the rapids but also in its treacherous “stone traps.” The author divides the rocks into three dangerous layers. The first layer is the “front line” with four death traps and one escape route. These rocks trick boats into the center of the river, only to have them ambushed by the next layer. The second layer, even more dangerous, has additional death traps and fortified stone ramparts designed to destroy boats that survive the first layer. The third layer has fewer traps, with the escape route in the center, leading to a calmer stretch of water. The Đà River is portrayed like a cunning water beast with devious plans, while the rocks are likened to fierce soldiers, each one rebellious and battle-hardened. Once again, Nguyễn Tuân demonstrates his intellectual depth by using military, sports, and martial arts metaphors to describe the river. He paints a picture of an explorer, recounting a perilous journey with vibrant and vivid language. The Đà River’s terror has long been at odds with humanity. Yet through the description of its waterfalls, Nguyễn Tuân highlights the human capacity to conquer nature. However, despite its ferocity, the Đà River also brings hydroelectric potential and economic benefits to the people and the country.

Despite its fearsome nature, the Đà River is also deeply lyrical. After the violent rapids, the river settles into a calm, peaceful flow. Gone are the treacherous rock traps and the unruly boulders, and the river now moves gently, accompanied by dragonflies and butterflies. Nguyễn Tuân sees the Đà River as an old friend, and as such, he understands its “warm, comforting essence” and its poetic charm. Along the banks are young cornfields, grasslands, and herds of deer grazing peacefully. The Đà River not only provides hydroelectric resources but also enriches the soil of the Northwest with fertile silt. The Đà River, in every circumstance, possesses a unique beauty. From an airplane, some might see it as “a winding rope,” while others might see it as “a poetic river, like a head of hair weaving through the clouds of the Northwest.” In the words of the author, “to each person, the Đà River evokes different feelings.” The color of its waters changes with the seasons. In spring, it is a jade green, a color of nobility unlike the Gâm or Lô Rivers. In autumn, the water turns a deep crimson. And most importantly, the Đà River has never been black, as the French colonizers falsely claimed. It’s clear that Nguyễn Tuân must have an intimate knowledge of the Đà River to make such a bold statement. This not only emphasizes the river’s beauty but also subtly expresses the author’s deep affection for this unique river. The Đà River is also a stream of Vietnam’s history. From the Lý and Trần Dynasties to the Lê Sơ, the shores of the river were once quiet and untouched. Now, the riverbank, which had long been serene and primitive, needs to be revitalized. How wonderful it would be if the sound of train whistles brought the bustling prosperity from the lowlands up to the Northwest! Nguyễn Tuân’s prose reads like a gentle love song, resurrecting the beauty of the modern world while also recalling distant memories that now only echo in the past.

Seeing the Đà River as an old friend, Nguyễn Tuân expresses a deep and mutual bond with this strange river. For him, the Đà River is not merely a natural formation, but an artwork that deserves to be treasured and explored. Through his unique perspective and sensitive perception, Nguyễn Tuân has revealed the unparalleled beauty of the “pure gold” of the Northwest. The Đà River is not just a river—it is a factor that enriches the future of the nation.

Reading “The Boatman of the Đà River,” one can truly understand Nguyễn Tuân’s lifelong quest for beauty. Furthermore, it deepens our love for the country’s natural wonders and our fascination with the hidden beauty of the beloved mountains and forests of the Northwest.

The Northwest region is magnificent, with nature's precious beauty, but humans are even more valuable when they conquer nature. The golden quality in *The Boatman of the Da River* is skillfully conveyed by the author through the depiction of the boatman.

The boatman character, created by Nguyễn Tuân, is akin to a monument to the people. He is portrayed as an ordinary man—nameless, ageless, and without origin—working in a harsh and unforgiving environment.

The boatman is nearly seventy, with a frail appearance, his legs always crooked as if gripping a rudder, his voice roaring like the rapids. Despite his gray hair, his body remains tall, strong, and full of experience. In the story, he is presented as a seasoned and skilled master of his craft.

"The Ferryman of the Da River" is a personal essay from the collection "Da River" (1960) by Nguyen Tuan. This work represents a beautiful artistic achievement that Nguyen Tuan gathered during a field trip to the Northwest in 1958. During this journey, the author had the chance to experience the most familiar and thrilling moments of the artist within him. He felt the "pure gold" of the hardworking, humble laborers along the majestic and poetic riverside. It is true to say that "the essay is a hymn to the beauty of laborers in the socialist construction effort," and under Nguyen Tuan’s talented pen, the ferryman becomes both a hero and a skilled artist in his craft.

In all of his works, whether written before or after the August Revolution, the main characters are always portrayed as extraordinary, talented artists. The ferryman's image is no exception. Upon reading the work, one is immediately struck by his physical appearance:

"His hands were long like the oar, his legs always slightly bent as though grasping an imagined oar shaft. His voice surged like the water in front of the rapids, his gaze was sharp, always seeking some distant shore lost in the fog..."

His physical strength was as strong as a young man in his prime:

"Nearly seventy, his strong head rested on a large and muscular body, firm as if made of horn or ebony... He raised his arms, his powerful young arms obscured his balding head. No one would mistake him for anything other than a young man sitting at the riverbank."

These descriptions not only introduce the appearance of a person but also celebrate the deep connection and affection for the ferryman’s profession. Only someone who cherishes their work and has spent many years working tirelessly, ferrying passengers on the great Da River, could have such a distinctive professional appearance. This is Nguyen Tuan’s unique writing style, where each sentence is packed with layers of meaning, and only by focusing closely can the reader uncover the hidden depths of the author's message.

However, mere physical descriptions are not enough. The ferryman also embodies many remarkable qualities of a seasoned professional. He is an eternal spirit of the river. "On the Da River, he has gone up and down more than a hundred times, personally steering the ferry sixty times for the boats that follow the curved paths." His vast experience is also evident in his extraordinary memory, trained to meticulously recall 73 rapids, memorizing every current of the dangerous waters. Even more, the Da River to him is like an epic he knows by heart, including every exclamation mark, period, and even the line breaks. When the author asked him about his work, the ferryman, at seventy, had been in the profession for over ten years and had retired for two decades, yet his resilience seemed unshaken. He confidently declared: "I’ve been retired for a long time, but if I were to go up and down the river now, I would still compete with the best ferrymen along the Da River, still capable of handling a central government delegation visiting the entire Da River up to the Chinese border."

Above all, the most vivid portrayal of the ferryman comes through his battle with the Da River. His strength is showcased in his struggle against the brutal, majestic river. Simply having experience is not enough; to conquer the Da River, one must possess courage, determination, wit, agility, and decisiveness. Nguyen Tuan places his character in an intense situation where these qualities are fully revealed, often at the risk of his life. This is the author's purpose in writing about the ferryman: to show that bravery, courage, and perseverance emerge most clearly when faced with great danger. Had the ferryman been placed in the picturesque, poetic surroundings of the Da River, his character might have evolved differently, resembling one of Nguyen Tuan’s pre-revolutionary artists. But here, he becomes a heroic artist in the epic quest of climbing the rapids. This is a life-threatening battle, full of suspense, much like a war with a visible and malicious enemy in the form of the rocky riverbed, with numerous hidden traps set against the ferryman.

The Da River challenges him with its ferocious waves, but he remains steadfast. With quick, sharp actions, he navigates his boat through the treacherous currents, never faltering. Through a series of rapid maneuvers, he overcomes three stages of perilous rocky formations. His actions—swift, direct, and expert—combine with the fast-paced, tense rhythm of the prose, creating a vivid portrayal of a life-and-death struggle. The use of contrasting imagery in the writing effectively sets up two opposing forces: on one side, the brutal, violent nature, and on the other, the small but resilient human, full of courage, skill, and the ability to conquer the powerful forces of nature. The ferryman, with only a single oar in his hands, becomes like a seasoned warrior leading his troops to victory against the unstoppable river.

With his exceptional writing skills and profound knowledge of various fields such as sports, martial arts, and military strategy, Nguyen Tuan transforms this ordinary story into an epic, making the ferryman not just an ordinary worker, but a hero and a master of the art of navigating treacherous rapids. He is both a warrior and an artist, embodying the image of the laborer in the socialist construction effort. Just like other characters in Nguyen Khai’s short story "The Lost Season," who volunteer to work in rural areas, the ferryman of the Da River stands alongside them in exemplifying the beauty and qualities of laborers during the period of socialist construction in the 1955-1960s.