“The Story of the Stone Vol. III- The Warning Voice (The Dream of the Red Chamber)” by Cao Xueqin (translated by David Hawkes)

This volume continues Cao Xueqin’s epic fictional history of the Jia clan. It weaves plot lines effortlessly between the multiple strands and generations of both the Ning-Guo and Rong-Guo Houses, while primarily focusing on Grandmother Jia and her two favorite grandchildren, Bao-Yu and Lin Dai-yu. Her granddaughter in-law, Xi-Feng, as manager of the expenses for Rong-Guo House, also plays a critical role throughout the novel. “Because of all the economies I’ve introduced during these last few years there’s hardly anyone in this household who doesn’t secretly hate me. But it’s like riding a tiger: I daren’t relax my grip for a single moment for fear of being eaten. In any case, our expenditure is still far above our income. The trouble is, everything in this household from the largest down to the smallest item has to be done on a scale and according to rules that were laid down by our ancestors; but unfortunately the income from our property is not what it was in those days. If we do economize, the family looks ridiculous, Their Ladyships feel uncomfortable, and the servants complain of our harshness.”

When Xi-Feng is stricken with a strange illness, two of Grandmother Jia’s younger granddaughters, Li Wan and Tan-chun, take to the fore and step up to shoulder the administration of the household. Borrowing into their capital, shuffling around servants, and minimizing the expenses of entertaining family, friends, and retainers all become constant worries. While Grandmother Jia is shielded from money worries, the younger generations of Jias begin to hold onto their silver and account for their expenditures a tad more responsibly. “There would be no point in saving an extra two or three hundred taels if it meant resorting to undignified methods in order to do so…. Whereas if we went all out to economize with no other consideration but making money in mind, no doubt we should have little difficulty in squeezing more out.”

As the grandchildren grow up, gender distinctions also begin to play a bigger role in the novel. One granddaughter opines, “If I’d been a boy I should have left home long ago and done something to show myself worthy of her kindness; but as I am a girl, I have to stay at home and never say a word out of turn.” The Jia boys are alternately treated with more leeway to explore their natures and beaten mercilessly for indiscretions to protocol. “Children brought up in families like ours, no matter how odd or eccentric they may be, will always conduct themselves in a courteous, well-bred manner in the presence of strangers. Otherwise their eccentricity would not be tolerated…. Although our Bao-yu is so odd and mischievous, he can at times, when he is with visitors, behave himself better than a grown-up, so that it’s a pleasure to watch him. No one who meets him can help liking him…. If it were just his willfulness, which is fairly normal in a child, it could be cured in time; so could his extravagance, which is normal in the sons of well-to-do people; and so could his hatred of study, which again is fairly normal in a young person. But this weird perverseness of his seems to be inbred: there seems to be no cure for it.”

The other division that is further exposed in this volume is the difference between first wives, concubines, and chamber wives. The constant scheming and fight for relative status often makes for a disharmonious household. This pecking order is most apparent in the treatment of the wives’ children by other family members, the servants, and outsiders alike. “I know being a wife’s or a concubine’s child is not supposed to make any difference, and in a boy’s case perhaps it doesn’t; but I’m afraid with girls, when the time comes to start finding husbands for them, it often does. Nowadays you get a very shallow class of person who will ask about that before anything else and often, if they hear that a girl is a concubine’s child, will have nothing further to do with her. It’s silly, really, because if they did but know it, even the maids in a household like ours are better than the wife’s daughters in many another household, let alone the daughters of concubines.”

No matter the Jia clan-members vast differences in temperament and wealth, as well as their sprawling alliances in marriage and business, in the end, they all know that they are foremost bonded by their family ties. “In life we shall live together; in death we shall mingle our dust.” Nonetheless, even Grandmother Jia senses that the times are changing for both China, at large, and her family in particular, “I never felt in the past on these occasions that we were a small family. Looking at us today, though, I must say we do make a very miserable turnout. I can remember Mid-Autumns when there were thirty or forty of us sitting down together. Ah, what times we had then! We shan’t ever have numbers like that again. Let’s have the girls sit with us. See if we can’t fill up that gap!”

“The Story of the Stone Vol. II- The Crab-Flower Club (The Dream of the Red Chamber)” by Cao Xueqin (translated by David Hawkes)

Cao Xueqin continues his epic tale of the fortunes of the Houses of Ning-Guo and Rong-Guo, descended from two brother Dukes of the Jia clan, both favorites of the Emperor. His second volume largely follows the hectic lives of Grandmother Jia’s grandchildren, all living within the Garden. “‘We’re all cousins,’ said Bao-yu. ‘What one of us does concerns all the others. If they have done you an injury, it’s up to me to apologize.’” The teenagers hang out with each other everyday, while also developing jealousies, rivalries, and cliques among each other, as well as between the larger household, their elders, and the staff. “None of the others present had understood what the four of them were talking about and treated these exchanges as a joke.” In this volume, the kids have just established a poetry club, where they spend their time eating, drinking, and making jokes, just as much as composing verse. “Why should the founding of poetry clubs be the sole prerogative of the whiskered male, and female versificators allowed a voice in the tunable concert of the muses only when some enlightened patriarch sees fit to invite them? Will you come, then, and rhyme with us?”

As well as the youngsters, this novel also details the day to day work of Xi-Feng, one of the youngest of the married Jia in-laws, who is tasked with accounting for the expenses of their sprawling household. As such, much of this novel involves the household help, especially the divisions that arise between the senior maids and the petty staff. “It was customary in the Jia household to treat the older generation of servants—those who had served the parents of the present masters—with even greater respect than the younger generation of masters.” The servants, also, would treat their young masters with almost matronly devotion and care. “Even we servants that have been with him for a few years get worried about him. The most that we can ever hope for is to do our duty and get by without too much trouble—but even that won’t be possible if he goes on the way he’s been doing. I’m always telling him to change his ways. Every day—every hour—I tell him. But it’s no use; he won’t listen.” Romantic jealousies between senior wives, chamber wives, concubines, mistresses, and favored maids also lead to household rivalries and maneuverings. “The ancients used to say that for one smile of a beautiful woman a thousand taels are well spent. For a few old fans it’s cheap at the price!” One gets the sense that, in these elaborate Manchu mansions, the servants are the ones who actually wield much of the power and know all the secrets going on. “I just dread talking to servants nowadays. They take such an interminable time to tell you anything—so long-winded! And the airs and graces they give themselves! and the simpering! and the um-ing and ah-ing! If they only knew how it makes me fume!”

Finally, the extended clan kinsmen from the countryside make appearances on the Jia households, begging for and expecting money, jobs, or favors, which cannot so easily be refused. “I was born for a hard life, d’ye see, just as Your Ladyship was born for a soft one. We couldn’t all be like Your Ladyship, or there’d be no one to do the farming.” Of course, the entire clan is eventually taken care of, to varying degrees, by Grandmother Jia and her abundant largesse. “Although Grandmother Jia had sent invitations by word of mouth to every clansman and clanswoman residing in the city, some of them were too elderly to stand up to the noise and excitement of the party, some were unable to come because they had no one to look after the house for them while they were away, some had intended to come but were prevented from doing so by illness, some stayed away from envy of their richer clansmen or because they were ashamed of their own poverty, others because they could not stand Xi-Feng, and yet others because they were so unused to company and incapacitated by shyness that they dared not come.” The members of the House of Rong-Guo, old and young alike, do not, as yet, have to concern themselves with the sordid business of making money, just on how to spend it. “‘Which of these is the one tael mark?’ she said. ‘That’s rich,’ said Bao-Yu, ‘your asking me! Anyone would think you were new here.’ Musk laughed. She was about to go outside and ask, but Bao-Yu stopped her. ‘Just pick out one of the larger pieces and give her that. There’s no need to bother with the exact amount. We aren’t shopkeepers.’”

“The Story of the Stone Volume I- The Golden Days (The Dream of the Red Chamber)” by Cao Xueqin (translated by David Hawkes)

Cao Xueqin lived in Nanking in the 18th century. The Cao family had been wealthy, holding the office of Commissioner of Imperial Textiles, but by the time Cao Xueqin began this epic his family had fallen out of imperial favor and he was living in poverty near Peking. “My only wish is that men in the world below may sometimes pick up this tale when they are recovering from sleep or drunkenness, or when they wish to escape from business worries or a fit of the dumps, and in doing so find not only mental refreshment but even perhaps, if they heed its lesson and abandon their vain and frivolous pursuits, some small arrest in the deterioration of their vital forces.” Similarly, the novel tells the story of a grand family, the Jias, and their triumphs and travails over the generations. ““The extreme of adversity is the beginning of prosperity” — and the reverse of that saying is also true. Honour and disgrace follow each other in an unending cycle. No human power can arrest that cycle and hold it permanently in one position. What you can do, however, is to plan while we are still prosperous for the kind of heritage that will stand up to the hard times when they come.” The story mixes an authentic realism of everyday Chinese upperclass life in imperial China with elements of fantasy, such as talking stones, magical monks, and witchcraft. “This object comes from the Hall of Emptiness in the Land of Illusion. It was fashioned by the fairy Disenchantment as an antidote to the ill effects of impure mental activity. It has life-giving and restorative properties and has been brought into the world for the contemplation of those intelligent and handsome young gentlemen whose hearts are too susceptible to the charms of beauty."

Cao Xueqin’s first volume follows Bao-yu in his adolescence, the grandson and favorite of the Jia family matriarch, and a boy born with a mysterious jade stone stuck in his mouth. “When they celebrated the First Twelve-month and Sir Zheng tested his disposition by putting a lot of objects in front of him and seeing which he would take hold of, he stretched out his little hand and started playing with some women’s things — combs, bracelets, pots of rouge and powder and the like.” The story also meanders through a huge cast of characters, from minor relatives, to a bevy of servants and hangers-on. “Though I am so much richer and more nobly born than he, what use are my fine clothes but to cover up the dead and rotten wood beneath? What use the luxuries I eat and drink but to fill the cesspit and swell the stinking sewer of my inside? O rank and riches! How you poison everything!” The plot contains poetry, epigrams, song lyrics, riddles, calligraphy, priceless heirlooms, love intrigues, premature deaths, backstabbing family members, and plenty of family feasts. “Truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true; Real becomes not-real when the unreal’s real.”