Top 6 Best Essays Analyzing 'Xuý Vân Pretends to Be Mad' (Literature 10 - Cánh Diều Textbook)

The excerpt from 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' is one of the most iconic parts of the traditional Vietnamese play 'Kim Nham'. It is hailed as a brilliant example of classical Vietnamese theater, not only for its captivating storyline but also for its artistic uniqueness. 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' is filled with both emotional depth and distinct artistic elements. The play 'Kim Nham' revolves around the lives of three main characters: Kim Nham, Xúy Vân, and Trần Phương. After marrying Xúy Vân, Kim Nham goes to the capital to pursue his studies, leaving his wife at home in solitude, waiting for his return. During this time, Trần Phương appears and seduces Xúy Vân. Overcome with passion, Xúy Vân pretends to be mad, hoping that her husband will release her from their marriage so she can be with her lover. The excerpt 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' depicts her dramatic act of feigned madness to deceive her husband. Throughout the excerpt, Xúy Vân openly reveals her inner turmoil and conflicting emotions. Every word and action reflects the intense struggle within her heart, expressed through language that blends both sanity and madness. Through her self-introduction, the folk playwright provides the audience with details about Xúy Vân's name, talent, and situation: "As I step in, let me tell you this, I'm none other than Xúy Vân, I confess. Though I may be foolish, my talent is rare, People say I sing beautifully, beyond compare, They call me Xúy Vân, this is who I am. Devoted to Kim Nham, captivated by Trần Phương, Driven to madness, unable to hold back." Though she may appear foolish, Xúy Vân is described as having 'invaluable talent' and is famous for her beautiful singing voice. This highlights that Xúy Vân is also a woman of remarkable skill. Furthermore, her confession that she is torn between Kim Nham and Trần Phương emphasizes the deep conflict in her character. At the beginning of the excerpt, Xúy Vân expresses her intense pain and sorrow: "Pain, deep and true, I cry aloud, Complaining to Lady Moon, Struck by an ache, weary beyond measure, Bitter, my soul adrift on the river. The boatman calls, the boat crosses the stream, Oh, the boat, please wait for me." Her sorrow is so overwhelming that she cries out to the gods of fate, blaming her destiny for her shattered life. She feels compelled by circumstances to follow this tragic path, finding herself caught in a tragic web. Not only does Xúy Vân suffer, but she also expresses feelings of shame and regret, as seen in the line, 'No moon or wind, yet I meet a lover full of passion.' She acknowledges that her weaknesses led her to fall for a man who captivated her, and she warns others to preserve the moral integrity of women, saying, 'Let the wind and moon do as they may, but hold fast to your virtue, never forget your true path.' Her advice to others serves as a reminder to herself. In the rooster song, her bitterness and frustration are made clear. She uses the image of a 'wild rooster' and a 'peacock' to emphasize her feelings of loneliness and helplessness. These images reflect her awareness of her own lowly status compared to her husband. The phrase 'Who knows the neighbors' repeated twice further highlights her sense of injustice and resentment toward her parents' arranged marriage. Consequently, she yearns for a life of happiness and love, like others: 'Wait for the rice to ripen, For my husband to harvest, for me to bring him rice.' As the song shifts to the 'sorrowful rhythm', the character reveals her awareness of her own predicament. Caught in a doomed relationship with Trần Phương, Xúy Vân sings, 'I love this man, I miss my lover, Through the long nights, I stay awake.' The metaphor in the following lines—'A fish trapped in a small pond, surrounded by many dangers'—illustrates her sense of entrapment, with no way out. Xúy Vân is constantly living in a state of uncertainty and fear. Finally, in the 'backward song' section, Xúy Vân truly loses herself. The images and words she uses are bizarre, illogical: 'A group of girls wading through the river, splashing water, A mouse climbs a fence, a mosquito flutters its wings, The Fairy godfather breaks the neck of a deer, A chicken egg carries a crow up to a tree. In the temple, there’s clashing sounds and strange echoes, I ride a rooster to go to war!' These lines show that Xúy Vân has completely lost her sense of sanity, as she can no longer differentiate between reality and delusion. Only someone deeply disturbed would speak in such a nonsensical way. The seemingly meaningless words unveil the complexity of her inner turmoil, filled with confusion and chaos. By now, Xúy Vân has fully lost herself and is adrift in a sea of uncertainty. In addition to her spoken words, Xúy Vân’s emotions are also conveyed through actions like singing, speaking, and dancing. She dances to a tune, weaves threads, and creates textiles to the sound of the drum while singing and laughing. These actions reflect her intense desire for a happy marriage. She longs to be a good wife and daughter-in-law, yet reality forces her to face the painful distance between her desires and her life. As the song ends, she walks away, laughing in a mad frenzy, amplifying her state of confusion, sorrow, and despair. Along with the emotional depth, the artistic elements also play a crucial role in the success of this excerpt. The folk playwright employs unique forms of expression, such as using distorted speech, rhythmical chanting, and various types of melodies, including those of a wild rooster, a peacock, and backwards songs. The language of the opera is deeply rooted in folklore, drawing from popular verses, folk songs, and traditional poetry. Moreover, the inclusion of stage directions—such as drum sounds, movements, gestures, and dances—helps the performance flow smoothly and become more engaging. Through the excerpt 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad', we witness Xúy Vân’s yearning for happiness and authenticity in her life. The piece also evokes deep sympathy and understanding for the tragic fate of women in ancient society. In conclusion, even amid the proliferation of countless entertainment forms, traditional Vietnamese opera continues to thrive, enduring the test of time. Both the excerpt 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' and the play 'Kim Nham' hold a special place in the hearts of the Vietnamese people.

In social life, every suffering has its limits, and every pain eventually fades away with the passage of time. Yet, some pains linger like bitter drops, seeping into the heart and causing deep sorrow. This profound anguish is vividly portrayed in the lament of a woman deprived of love, condemned by society when following the call of passion, bound by a forced marriage, and ultimately succumbing to a tragic death in a state of madness and delirium. 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' – a distinctive piece of traditional Vietnamese theater from the play *Kim Nham* – immerses us in a heartbreaking tragedy. Xúy Vân, the young wife, must wait for her husband, who follows the call of 'career'. Years of longing for love burn intensely within her heart. Her heart yearns for the refreshing, nurturing waters of love. She falls into a passionate affair with Trần Phương, a wealthy and influential man. Trần Phương convinces her to pretend to be mad, in order to make her husband, Kim Nham, abandon her. But Trần Phương abandons her, leaving behind a painful wound. Xúy Vân descends into a state of madness while Kim Nham is celebrating his success. In the excerpt, Xúy Vân appears as a pitiful figure, a crazy woman, laughing in a maniacal way: 'Oh, the pain, such injustice' She pleads with 'Lady Moon'. Does she seek sympathy, lamenting her fate? The pain has deeply etched into her soul, seeing herself as a defeated soldier in love, a 'sickly fish' overwhelmed by the overwhelming force of love. What appears to the audience is a seemingly sane Xúy Vân, but one who is internally tormented, trapped in a perpetual cycle of misery. She suddenly bursts out in a frenzied cry: 'Hey, ferry, hey, ferry!' Her cries have no connection to the previous ones. They are truly mad words. The image of the ferry is casual and familiar, as often seen in folk verses: 'For a hundred years, the promise is broken' 'By the old banyan tree, the ferry is gone'. The ferry, like a shadow, appears faint, while Xúy Vân feels like a lonely traveler on the banks of life's turbulent journey. One can sense the bitter irony of her fate. She calls out to Kim Nham as if to summon a ferry to cross over, feeling her youth slipping away in lonely anticipation. The cries continue, full of sorrow: 'Oh, help me, my friends!' 'I have to wait for the ferry, I can’t find another way.' Once more, she calls out, feeling the heavy weight of regret and guilt. Her mind is a whirlpool, torn between love and social condemnation. The line 'I am not blaming the wind, but I am trapped by the wind' reflects her deep internal conflict, torn between her feelings and her moral standards. She longs for love, but society accuses her. In her madness, she still seeks solace, though the world around her seems indifferent: 'I don’t belong here anymore, they mock me.' She pleads for understanding, holding out her hand in vain. Xúy Vân is caught in the tragic web of a broken marriage, where love fades, and her fate feels sealed. The sequence goes deeper, revealing her self-awareness of the painful reality she faces: 'Love is a torment, but it has its beauty' Xúy Vân's words in the midst of madness offer a glimpse of clarity. Despite the betrayal, she holds on to the hope that Trần Phương may one day change. The passionate yearning for love has consumed her, yet she clings to an idea of redemption and change. The tragedy of Xúy Vân reminds us of the eternal human desire for love, even if it leads to self-destruction. In her delirium, she continues to sing: 'Like the wild chicken, suffering in silence, Unheard by neighbors, left alone.' The contradiction between the wild chicken and the 'chicken coop' is a metaphor for Xúy Vân's desperate longing for freedom, trapped in her love and obligations. Her suffering reverberates in every note of the song. The final stanza captures a vision of an idyllic life with Trần Phương, where love is pure, unaffected by the constraints of society. Despite her tragic end, Xúy Vân represents the beautiful dream of love, even if unattainable. Her tragic journey is the voice of resistance against arranged marriages and societal expectations. The play, through its heartbreaking depiction, calls for a reevaluation of love, autonomy, and individual identity in the face of societal constraints. Her death symbolizes the painful cost of an unfulfilled, unconsummated love. In the end, 'Xúy Vân Pretending to Be Mad' is not just a tragedy; it is a powerful statement against the conventions that limit the expression of true love.'

In the excerpt from "Xúy Vân giả dại" in the opera "Kim Nham," the tragic emotions of the character Xúy Vân are portrayed with great depth. Xúy Vân is a woman caught between her desires for love and happiness, and the harsh reality of her role in a traditional society.

Xúy Vân is described as a modest, graceful, and lovable woman. She is the daughter of a district official in Tề, betrothed to a poor scholar from Nam Định named Kim Nham. However, while waiting for her husband, who is studying far away, Xúy Vân becomes the target of affection from Trần Phương, a wealthy man who deceives her to escape the marriage. In her desperation, Xúy Vân pretends to be mentally ill, hoping that her husband might cure her, but in the end, she pays a heavy price for this decision—freedom and heartache. Trần Phương’s promises add to her suffering. Meanwhile, Kim Nham becomes successful and is appointed as an official. When he finds out his former wife is now begging for a living, he places some silver in her rice, but she feels shame and ultimately ends her life by jumping into the river.

The excerpt from "Xúy Vân giả dại" stands out as a crucial scene in the play "Kim Nham." In traditional opera, each play typically features one or two iconic scenes, and this particular scene is considered the soul and life force of the entire work. It vividly reflects the tragic emotions of Xúy Vân.

Xúy Vân represents the archetype of the tragic heroine in traditional opera. She embodies the internal conflict between longing for love and happiness, and the cruel societal expectations placed upon her. Despite her gentle and kind nature, Xúy Vân faces immense suffering and betrayal from those around her.

The situation where Xúy Vân feigns madness creates a sense of tension and regret in the viewer’s mind. Through her gestures, performance, and music, the audience feels the complex and painful emotions of Xúy Vân. This scene is one of the highlights of the play "Kim Nham," playing a crucial role in conveying the profound messages and emotions of the work.

Although "Kim Nham" and the excerpt "Xúy Vân giả dại" belong to ancient Vietnamese folklore, the work still retains its relevance and appeal to contemporary audiences. It not only showcases the beauty of traditional opera but also touches on deep societal issues, human nature, and the complexities of love. As such, it invites the audience to reflect on the deeper meanings and messages embedded in the piece.

Chèo, a form of traditional folk theatre, has deep roots in Vietnam, emerging early in the nation's history. Some of the most notable chèo plays include titles like Quan âm Thị Kính and Kim Nham. These plays are not just for entertainment; they also serve as platforms for the folk authors to convey profound life philosophies. Over time, chèo has become deeply intertwined with the daily life of the people, to the point where the poet Nguyễn Bính once wrote:

“That day, spring rain softly blew

Senn flowers fell, layer upon layer

The chèo festival in Đặng village passed by

Mother said: ‘Tonight, Thôn Đoài will sing…’”

One of the most famous excerpts from chèo is "Xúy Vân giả dại". This passage from the play Kim Nham revolves around Xúy Vân's illicit affair with Trần Phương during her husband's absence. To be with Trần Phương, Xúy Vân decides to feign madness in order to justify her divorce from Kim Nham.

In the opening scene, Xúy Vân appears, singing and acting in a frenzied state, half-conscious, half-distraught. She sings a sorrowful song to bà Nguyệt, lamenting her love life, and uses the image of a love boat to express herself—an exhausted woman waiting for her husband, her happiness unfulfilled.

“I am the boat, the small boat on the river

The more I wait, the later the boat comes”

Though sung from a semi-conscious state, the lyrics reflect a deep sense of sadness and yearning, as a woman worries about her fleeting youth. She is like a traveler at an empty dock, waiting for a boat that never arrives.

In the next verses, presented as a variant of the traditional six-eight form, Xúy Vân reveals the feelings of a married woman whose freedom is shackled by her husband’s absence. She realizes that in order to move on, she must break free from her marriage:

“If I can't stay married, then I'll leave

What’s the point of staying here when they mock me?”

Xúy Vân doesn’t deny her changing emotions. She acknowledges her desire for love and has strong faith in a future filled with happiness with her new lover.

“Let the wind blow, let the wind blow

We are determined to walk together on this path”

Xúy Vân’s fierce pursuit of love was once viewed as an act of rebellion against Confucian values—disregarding traditional virtues of submission and defying the ethical code of women. However, this rebellious act arises from her intense yearning for love, a passion she cannot escape.

After these confessions, Xúy Vân boldly introduces herself:

“I won’t hide it: my name is Xúy Vân

I married Kim Nham, from a poor family

My husband is away studying, and I wait for him with longing”

By introducing herself, Xúy Vân admits her betrayal of Kim Nham, acknowledging her infatuation with Trần Phương. Though she knows it’s wrong, emotions overpower reason:

“I betrayed Kim Nham, falling deeply for Trần Phương

Thus, I have become mad and reckless”

However, at times, Xúy Vân comes to her senses, realizing the foolishness of her actions:

“Madness, who buys madness and sells it?

Who doesn't dream of such foolishness in love?”

The excerpt from "Xúy Vân giả dại" highlights Xúy Vân’s conflicted, regretful feelings. She is a passionate woman caught in a love triangle, unaware that the man she loves, Trần Phương, is nothing but a deceitful scoundrel.

Chèo is a traditional form of folk theatre that blends singing, dancing, and acting in perfect harmony. The melodies of chèo are diverse and rich, with its lyrics skillfully incorporating elements of folk songs and proverbs. This genre has been a cherished part of Vietnamese culture for centuries.

Some of the most beloved chèo plays, such as "Quan Âm Thị Kính", “Trương Viên”, “Chu Mãi Thần”, and "Kim Nham", have captivated audiences across generations. After the harvest or at the beginning of spring, many villages hold chèo festivals. The sound of chèo drums echoes through the bamboo groves, evoking deep emotions in the hearts of listeners:

"That day, spring rain danced in the air

Senn flowers fell in layers, covering the ground

The chèo festival in Đặng village passed by

Mother said: ‘Thôn Đoài will sing tonight…’” (Nguyễn Bính)

Chèo is a theatrical art form that combines singing, dancing, and acting in a seamless and enchanting way. The melodies are incredibly varied, with lyrics rich in folk sayings and ballads. Notable excerpts such as "Thị Mầu lên chùa”, "Xuý Vân giả dại”, "Thị Phương leads her mother-in-law to escape the enemy", and “Tuần Ty meets Huế’s beauty” have been loved by many, with viewers always wanting more.

The excerpt from "Xuý Vân giả dại" is part of the second act of the play “Kim Nham”. After a long separation from her husband, Xuý Vân becomes involved with Trần Phương and is seduced by him. In an attempt to escape her marriage, she feigns madness and devises a plan to get a divorce from Kim Nham. With fiery eyes, passionate singing, wild movements, and dramatic gestures, Xuý Vân leaves a strong impression on audiences, embodying the fiery passion and tragic love story of her character. Many chèo artists have gained fame for their portrayal of Xuý Vân.

In the opening lines, Xuý Vân (without introducing herself yet) speaks in a disjointed manner, transitioning from speech to song, spinning in confusion, half-conscious, half-mad. She sings about her troubled fate and calls for a spirit medium, then sings a song about the boat of love, symbolizing a woman waiting for her distant husband:

“I am the boat, the small boat on the river

The longer I wait, the later the boat arrives”

She is filled with sadness and anxiety, fearing that her youth will slip away, like a traveler waiting at a deserted dock for a boat that never arrives.

The following lyrics are written in a broken variant of the traditional six-eight verse form, expressing the tragic feelings of a woman who is married but feels shackled by the relationship, unable to move forward in love:

“If I can't stay married, I’ll return

Why stay here when they mock me?”

She openly expresses her feelings of longing and belief in a future of love with her new lover, confident that they will live together happily:

“Let the wind blow, let the wind blow

We are determined to walk this path together”

Xuý Vân’s defiant attitude was once viewed as an act of rebellion against the traditional Confucian values of a woman's place in society. But her passion for love and desire for freedom to pursue happiness become clear through these actions.

After responding to questions from the audience, Xuý Vân finally introduces herself:

“I won’t hide it: my name is Xuý Vân

I married Kim Nham, from a poor and struggling family

My husband is away studying, and I wait for him with longing

I sit all night, waiting for a visitor

As a girl, I must wait patiently

It’s a foolish life, but a priceless talent

People say I sing beautifully

They call me Xuý Vân”

She admits her betrayal of Kim Nham, confessing her love for Trần Phương, even though she knows it’s wrong:

“I betrayed Kim Nham and fell for Trần Phương

And it led me to madness and desperation”

Xuý Vân then shifts to a metaphorical song about her mismatched marriage, comparing herself to a forest hen trapped in an unsuitable union with a rough husband. She views herself as noble, while Kim Nham seems crude and poor:

“I am like a princess, from a noble family, while he is just a peasant with a simple life.”

She also sings about her longing for her new lover, Trần Phương, and her desire for a future of love and happiness, believing they will build a perfect life together:

“I long for him

I miss him dearly

Restless, I lie awake through the night

Wondering where my love has gone”

The sorrow and desire in Xuý Vân’s heart are expressed in a chaotic and wild manner, embodying the inner turmoil of a woman lost in a passionate, yet doomed love. She is torn between the madness of love and the regret of her choices:

“Madness, who buys madness and sells it?

Who doesn’t dream of such love?

Sometimes I pretend to be quiet

Other times, I act mad, just to hide my pain”

Trần Phương had manipulated Xuý Vân into feigning madness, and the chèo performance brings this to life. This tragic scene illustrates the anguish of a woman caught in a failed marriage, yearning for a love that will never be hers. The unresolved questions of love, loyalty, and family values resonate deeply with audiences, leaving them questioning what true love and happiness really are.

Xuý Vân’s feigned madness marks the beginning of her downward spiral, which eventually leads to her demise. This tragic ending deeply affects the emotional core of the play.

The false promise of love that Trần Phương offers to Xuý Vân seems sweet at first but turns out to be painfully bitter.

The performance of "Xuý Vân giả dại" explores the painful lessons about love and devotion, and the consequences of following misplaced passion. It raises the important question: What truly constitutes a happy, genuine love within the framework of a family?

The *Kim Nham* play opens with the hasty and loveless marriage between Xuý Vân and the father of Kim Nham. This rushed union sets the stage for Xuý Vân’s personal tragedy, making her one of the most unique and unconventional characters in traditional Vietnamese opera. Married yet emotionally distant from her husband, Xuý Vân finds herself out of place in Kim Nham’s intellectual family, feeling alone and purposeless, with no one to talk to or share her feelings. Her inner turmoil is captured in her song: ‘The wild hen mingles with the peacock – Bitter and unable to bear the hurt...’ She compares herself to a confused wild hen, lost in the midst of proud, aloof pheasants, a symbol of her isolation and suffering.

In the midst of this suffocating situation, Xuý Vân meets Trần Phương, a notorious playboy from Đông Ngàn, whom she doesn’t recognize. She falls in love with him, thinking he is her lifeline. His sweet words convince her to pretend to be mad in hopes of returning home, where she dreams of being with the man she loves and escaping her stifling life. However, not all of Xuý Vân’s erratic songs are simply the result of madness; many of them are bitter truths from deep within her, reflecting the intense desire of a youthful soul eager to connect with life. She uses her feigned madness and veiled words to express feelings that no woman in the feudal society of the time would dare to voice while in her right mind.

Xuý Vân calls out anxiously ‘Ferry, ferry, come here,’ yet her despair is clear in the following verse: ‘I call, but the ferry doesn’t respond – The more I wait, the later it comes.’ This song reveals her sense of being stuck, as though no one is waiting for her on either side of the river. She finds herself trapped in a situation where leaving is as impossible as staying.

The river, often a symbol of separation in folklore and poetry, represents the emotional distance and sadness of parting. There is a famous folk saying:

‘The Thương River flows in two streams,

On each side, the pain of separation.’

The renowned Chinese poet Li Bai, when bidding farewell to his friend Mạnh Hạo Nhiên, also wrote a famous line about the river of parting:

'The sail disappears into the sky,

And all that remains is the river stretching to the horizon.'

While Li Bai’s poem paints an image of the disappearing boat, leaving only the vast river, Xuý Vân’s song ‘The more I wait, the later it comes’ evokes a similarly forlorn and powerless image. She knows that ‘If I hadn’t married, I could return – But where would I go? They would mock and laugh.’ Yet returning is not simple, especially for a woman who is already married and trapped in a life that doesn’t bring her peace. The longer she waits, the more impossible it seems for the ferry to arrive, symbolizing her increasing frustration and disappointment.

For Xuý Vân, a simple and happy family life where ‘he works the fields, and she brings the rice’ is an unattainable dream. Kim Nham, consumed by his studies and exams, neglects her and leaves her alone to bear the family’s burdens. The repeated song ‘Bong bong leads, bong bong follows – Far away, shaken and swayed – Who knows…’ reflects her deep disillusionment. Though fate has tied them together, their dreams are worlds apart, making their marriage a suffocating and unfulfilling bond. One dreams of a quiet, rural life, where ‘he harvests the rice, and she brings the food,’ while the other dreams of academic success, passing exams, and becoming an official. The gap between these dreams leaves no room for them to meet, making the marriage a cruel and binding trap. How can one not feel frustrated, trapped, and alone in such circumstances? Xuý Vân paints a vivid picture of her disappointment in the song ‘The fish roach lies in the shallow pond – Trapped by five or seven fishing rods...’. The metaphor of the small fish, stuck in a shallow pond with no way out, surrounded by multiple fishing rods, represents Xuý Vân’s sense of confinement and lack of freedom in her marriage to Kim Nham. The repeated refrain ‘Who knows, who understands my pain’ further emphasizes her deep longing for happiness, a longing that no one, not even her parents, seem to comprehend due to the rigid social norms of feudal society. Xuý Vân desperately flounders in this small, oppressive space, illustrating the sentiment of a folk saying:

‘I am like a stunted bird,

Wanting to fly but unable to take off.’

Xuý Vân’s tragic fate leaves a lasting impression, haunting and lingering in the heart.

Alongside her cryptic songs and confessions, the final lines of this excerpt, where Xuý Vân sings in reverse, subtly express her inner turmoil:

‘The chicken egg is carried by the crow, perched on the tree,’

‘In the temple, there is the clatter of the bell,’

‘In the hat, there’s the frame, bent and crooked,’

‘Down by the river, there’s a marketplace selling bowls,’

‘Sneak through the sea, chopping wood to build a house…’

Only those truly mad would be confused by such contradictory and inverted images. Xuý Vân’s mix of forward and backward lyrics reflects both her irrational thought process and the absurd, paradoxical world she perceives. These metaphorical images, sometimes hidden, sometimes obvious, sometimes veiled in laughter and seemingly nonsensical songs, paint a complex and chaotic inner world, full of drama, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of crisis, expressing her deep sense of helplessness and loss of direction.