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The Marshes of Mount Liang
The Broken Seals: Part One of the Marshes of Mount Liang
When Marshal Hong breaks the seals which generations of Taoist Masters have placed on the temple doors to hold back 108 incarcerated Demon Princes, powerful forces of disorder are released. One after another, brave men fall out with officialdom and are obliged to join the brotherhood of the rivers and lakes-the mixed company of heroes and vagabonds who live by their wits and their fighting skills. The story of The Broken Seals branches this way and that, following first one hero, then another, as their paths converge and part, until finally 108 brave-but not entirely admirable-men are united at the outlaws' stronghold in the Marshes of Mount Liang.
The story takes us through the vast landscape of imperial China. We hear of epic duels, gargantuan feasts, and cunning ambushes, and we witness injustice, betrayal, murder and revenge. We are told also of the beauty of the moon during Mid-Autumn Festival or of the snow, crisp underfoot on a stormy night in the country.
This volume consists of the first twenty-two chapters of the full 120-chapter version of the classic Chinese novel by Shi Nai'an and Luo Guanzhong. It is the first English translation based on this version and including much of the verse. It offers the English reader something of the liveliness and humour of a work which has delighted generations of Chinese readers.
The story takes us through the vast landscape of imperial China. We hear of epic duels, gargantuan feasts, and cunning ambushes, and we witness injustice, betrayal, murder and revenge. We are told also of the beauty of the moon during Mid-Autumn Festival or of the snow, crisp underfoot on a stormy night in the country.
This volume consists of the first twenty-two chapters of the full 120-chapter version of the classic Chinese novel by Shi Nai'an and Luo Guanzhong. It is the first English translation based on this version and including much of the verse. It offers the English reader something of the liveliness and humour of a work which has delighted generations of Chinese readers.
448 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1368
About the author
Shi Nai'an
333 books47 followersShi Nai'an (Chinese: 施耐庵; pinyin: Shī Nài'ān, ca. 1296–1372), was a Chinese writer from Suzhou. He was attributed as the first compiler of the Water Margin, one of the Four Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature.
Library of Congress Authorities: Shi, Nai’an, approximately 1290-approximately 1365
Not much biographical information is known about him. Traditionally it was believed that he was a teacher of Luo Guanzhong, who was attributed as a main compiler of Romance of Three Kingdoms, another of the Four Great Classical Novels. Some modern scholars doubt that Shi actually existed, but was merely a pseudonym for Luo himself.
Library of Congress Authorities: Shi, Nai’an, approximately 1290-approximately 1365
Not much biographical information is known about him. Traditionally it was believed that he was a teacher of Luo Guanzhong, who was attributed as a main compiler of Romance of Three Kingdoms, another of the Four Great Classical Novels. Some modern scholars doubt that Shi actually existed, but was merely a pseudonym for Luo himself.
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December 2, 2013The Shuihu Zhuan (apparently, this means something like Water Margin, but it has been translated into English under many other titles) is accounted to be one of the great classic Chinese novels. I chose to read this one first because it was not written in classical Chinese (so it was not primarily for the elite) and because, according to the experts, it incorporates much more about the lives of ordinary Chinese people than do the other classic novels.
The Shuihu Zhuan is based upon a particular oral storytelling tradition going back to the Southern Song dynasty (1127–1279) concerning a group of bandits who took refuge in marshes, and it also has written predecessors such as Old Incidents in the Xuanhe Period of the Great Song Dynasty, which appeared around the mid 13th century. To complicate matters, the text(s) with the name Shuihu Zhuan has been modified many times and appeared in many different editions of varying length. On top of this, the experts are in disagreement about the authorship of these texts. Moreover, there appear to be four different translations into English of various versions of the "text". So with which version and which translation would one begin?
On the basis of the reviews of my GRAmazon friend, Helmut Barro,(*) I chose a recent translation which is also the most complete. The longest version of the Shuihu Zhuan comprises 120 chapters and dates back to 1573–1620. Two recent Chinese editions of this version underlie this translation, according to the translators.
Generally speaking, the Shuihu Zhuan is about a band of 108 bandits (corresponding to the 108 demons released in the first chapter by a foolish and self-important general), its formation, its adventures and its demise. But that is just a framework upon which is hung a close look at the hard life of Song dynasty Chinese, when life was extremely cheap and when everyone had either to grin and bear the injustices of their superiors or light out to the bandit-infested marshes and wild borders of the Middle Empire. Prisoners had to bribe their captors to survive for long, otherwise they would be starved, beaten and worked to death. The reader is shown the activities, social relations, apparel and housing of the time in detail. The life of local landowners, shopkeepers, soldiers, monks and bandits is described instead of that of the courts. And one finds that personal loyalties, cemented either by blood relation, adoption or a long series of gifts, banquets and mutual favors, are more important than any other bonds. Those with Chinese friends and lovers will also fondly recognize the central role played in this book by food and drink.
The Broken Seals contains the first 22 chapters of Shuihu Zhuan. A number of the main characters, both protagonists and antagonists, are introduced and their individual adventures are related. The bandit band begins slowly to accrete these individuals but is yet far from its full complement at the end of this volume. They, and nearly everybody else in this book, are often cruel and murderous, that is, when they are not giving each other gold and silver and drinking dozens of cups of rice wine all night. They are most definitely not the merry band of Sherwood Forest. And though, at least not yet, the characters in this book do not fight while running weightlessly along the tops of trees, many of the battles fought require a willing suspension of skepticism, otherwise a good part of the fun will be missed.
So, a hyperbolic view of life in medieval China, replete with adventures and told in colorful and salty prose interspersed with often enjoyable poetry - how could one resist?
(*) If you understand German, then I recommend that you read his reviews of three of the four English translations in GRAmazon.
Rating
http://leopard.booklikes.com/post/717...
The Shuihu Zhuan is based upon a particular oral storytelling tradition going back to the Southern Song dynasty (1127–1279) concerning a group of bandits who took refuge in marshes, and it also has written predecessors such as Old Incidents in the Xuanhe Period of the Great Song Dynasty, which appeared around the mid 13th century. To complicate matters, the text(s) with the name Shuihu Zhuan has been modified many times and appeared in many different editions of varying length. On top of this, the experts are in disagreement about the authorship of these texts. Moreover, there appear to be four different translations into English of various versions of the "text". So with which version and which translation would one begin?
On the basis of the reviews of my GRAmazon friend, Helmut Barro,(*) I chose a recent translation which is also the most complete. The longest version of the Shuihu Zhuan comprises 120 chapters and dates back to 1573–1620. Two recent Chinese editions of this version underlie this translation, according to the translators.
Generally speaking, the Shuihu Zhuan is about a band of 108 bandits (corresponding to the 108 demons released in the first chapter by a foolish and self-important general), its formation, its adventures and its demise. But that is just a framework upon which is hung a close look at the hard life of Song dynasty Chinese, when life was extremely cheap and when everyone had either to grin and bear the injustices of their superiors or light out to the bandit-infested marshes and wild borders of the Middle Empire. Prisoners had to bribe their captors to survive for long, otherwise they would be starved, beaten and worked to death. The reader is shown the activities, social relations, apparel and housing of the time in detail. The life of local landowners, shopkeepers, soldiers, monks and bandits is described instead of that of the courts. And one finds that personal loyalties, cemented either by blood relation, adoption or a long series of gifts, banquets and mutual favors, are more important than any other bonds. Those with Chinese friends and lovers will also fondly recognize the central role played in this book by food and drink.
The Broken Seals contains the first 22 chapters of Shuihu Zhuan. A number of the main characters, both protagonists and antagonists, are introduced and their individual adventures are related. The bandit band begins slowly to accrete these individuals but is yet far from its full complement at the end of this volume. They, and nearly everybody else in this book, are often cruel and murderous, that is, when they are not giving each other gold and silver and drinking dozens of cups of rice wine all night. They are most definitely not the merry band of Sherwood Forest. And though, at least not yet, the characters in this book do not fight while running weightlessly along the tops of trees, many of the battles fought require a willing suspension of skepticism, otherwise a good part of the fun will be missed.
So, a hyperbolic view of life in medieval China, replete with adventures and told in colorful and salty prose interspersed with often enjoyable poetry - how could one resist?
(*) If you understand German, then I recommend that you read his reviews of three of the four English translations in GRAmazon.
Rating
http://leopard.booklikes.com/post/717...
February 27, 2013
Modernste Fassung eines zeitlosen Klassikers
Ein Buch, das mein Leben verändert hat - selten genug gibt es Werke, von denen man das behaupten kann. Der chinesische Klassiker Shuihuzhuan ist für mich persönlich ein solches. Ein Werk, wie ich es bis dahin noch nicht gekannt hatte, und das mich tief in seinen Bann zog. Die Helden dieses Romans sind nicht, wie es oft verglichen wird, wie Robin Hood - dazu sind sie zu gewalttätig und skrupellos. Sie sind aber auch keine Bösewichte, denn in ihrer Welt der "Flüsse und Seen" halten sie sich an moralische Standards, die sogar heute noch vielen zur Ehre gereichen würden. Sie helfen den Unterdrückten, kennen aber keine Gnade bei ihren Feinden oder Verrätern. Gerade ihre Schwächen machen sie so liebenswert - der extrem gutmütige und gleichzeitig extrem jähzornige Lu Zhishen, der allzu demütige Lin Chong, der erst bis aufs Blut getrietzt werden muss, bis er sich endlich wehrt, oder der loyale, ehrenhafte Yang Zhi, bei dem wirklich alles, was er anfasst, schiefgeht. Doch alle Probleme lassen sich schließlich lösen - Gewalt und Nahrungsaufnahme sind dabei oft genug die Mittel der Wahl. Soviele Bankette mit viel Alkohol wie hier findet man wohl sonst in keinem anderen Werk der Weltliteratur; ein voller Bauch streitet nicht gern.
Dies ist die dritte Übersetzung des Shuihuzhuan, die ich lese: Pearl Bucks etwas altmodische, aber trotzdem faszinierende in All Men Are Brothers und Sidney Shapiros modernere und freche Fassung in Outlaws of the Marsh sind beide gelungene Übersetzungen. Wie macht sich nun die Dent-Übersetzung gegen diese Vorgänger?
Während Buck durchgängig exotisiert und auch die verbalen und stilistischen Formelhaftigkeiten des Originals ins Englische überträgt, liest sich Shapiro deutlich moderner; er überträgt die Vulgaritäten und dadurch kommt die Bodenständigkeit des Texts besser an als bei Buck. Die Dents gehen dabei noch einen Schritt weiter: Lu Zhishens Fluchereien beispielsweise enthalten viele "f"-Worte. Gleichzeitig erhalten sie aber einen durchgängigen, fließenden Erzählrhythmus, der die Episodenhaftigkeit des Texts etwas abmildert. Die Übertragung der Gedichtteile des Werks ist sehr gelungen, rhythmisch und atmosphärisch - auch wenn mir nicht klar ist, warum sie nur dreiviertel der Gedichte übersetzt haben. Die Übersetzung basiert auf der 120-Kapitel-Fassung (Buck: 70 Kapitel, Shapiro: 100 Kapitel).
Insgesamt gefällt mir der Stil dieser Fassung sehr - eindeutig die modernste Übersetzung, und gerade für Einsteiger sehr lesefreundlich, denn der Leser wird nicht mit hunderten von Fußnoten belastet, und versteht trotzdem, was passiert.
Die zweite Auflage ist schöner gestaltet als die erste: Ein über alle 5 Bände durchgängiges Braun ersetzt das bunte Farbenspiel der ersten Auflage. Eine sehr feste Bindung macht das Lesen etwas anstrengend - dafür entschädigen das Qualitätspapier und das angenehme Druckbild. Die Gedichtteile (sowohl in Reim als auch Prosa übersetzt) sind eingerückt und kursiv gesetzt und tragen wirklich einiges zur Atmosphäre bei. In ausgezeichneter Reproduktionsqualität enthält dieser Band darüber hinaus viele zeitgenössische Holzschnitte, die Szenen aus dem Text darstellen.
Sollte dieser Band beim Lesen Appetit gemacht haben: Die restlichen 4 Bände sind bereits erschienen und führen die Geschichte weiter. Da es sich um ein Buch in 5 Bänden handelt und diese keine unabhängigen Fortsetzungen sind, sollte man sich diese natürlich auch zulegen.
Ein Buch, das mein Leben verändert hat - selten genug gibt es Werke, von denen man das behaupten kann. Der chinesische Klassiker Shuihuzhuan ist für mich persönlich ein solches. Ein Werk, wie ich es bis dahin noch nicht gekannt hatte, und das mich tief in seinen Bann zog. Die Helden dieses Romans sind nicht, wie es oft verglichen wird, wie Robin Hood - dazu sind sie zu gewalttätig und skrupellos. Sie sind aber auch keine Bösewichte, denn in ihrer Welt der "Flüsse und Seen" halten sie sich an moralische Standards, die sogar heute noch vielen zur Ehre gereichen würden. Sie helfen den Unterdrückten, kennen aber keine Gnade bei ihren Feinden oder Verrätern. Gerade ihre Schwächen machen sie so liebenswert - der extrem gutmütige und gleichzeitig extrem jähzornige Lu Zhishen, der allzu demütige Lin Chong, der erst bis aufs Blut getrietzt werden muss, bis er sich endlich wehrt, oder der loyale, ehrenhafte Yang Zhi, bei dem wirklich alles, was er anfasst, schiefgeht. Doch alle Probleme lassen sich schließlich lösen - Gewalt und Nahrungsaufnahme sind dabei oft genug die Mittel der Wahl. Soviele Bankette mit viel Alkohol wie hier findet man wohl sonst in keinem anderen Werk der Weltliteratur; ein voller Bauch streitet nicht gern.
Dies ist die dritte Übersetzung des Shuihuzhuan, die ich lese: Pearl Bucks etwas altmodische, aber trotzdem faszinierende in All Men Are Brothers und Sidney Shapiros modernere und freche Fassung in Outlaws of the Marsh sind beide gelungene Übersetzungen. Wie macht sich nun die Dent-Übersetzung gegen diese Vorgänger?
Während Buck durchgängig exotisiert und auch die verbalen und stilistischen Formelhaftigkeiten des Originals ins Englische überträgt, liest sich Shapiro deutlich moderner; er überträgt die Vulgaritäten und dadurch kommt die Bodenständigkeit des Texts besser an als bei Buck. Die Dents gehen dabei noch einen Schritt weiter: Lu Zhishens Fluchereien beispielsweise enthalten viele "f"-Worte. Gleichzeitig erhalten sie aber einen durchgängigen, fließenden Erzählrhythmus, der die Episodenhaftigkeit des Texts etwas abmildert. Die Übertragung der Gedichtteile des Werks ist sehr gelungen, rhythmisch und atmosphärisch - auch wenn mir nicht klar ist, warum sie nur dreiviertel der Gedichte übersetzt haben. Die Übersetzung basiert auf der 120-Kapitel-Fassung (Buck: 70 Kapitel, Shapiro: 100 Kapitel).
Insgesamt gefällt mir der Stil dieser Fassung sehr - eindeutig die modernste Übersetzung, und gerade für Einsteiger sehr lesefreundlich, denn der Leser wird nicht mit hunderten von Fußnoten belastet, und versteht trotzdem, was passiert.
Die zweite Auflage ist schöner gestaltet als die erste: Ein über alle 5 Bände durchgängiges Braun ersetzt das bunte Farbenspiel der ersten Auflage. Eine sehr feste Bindung macht das Lesen etwas anstrengend - dafür entschädigen das Qualitätspapier und das angenehme Druckbild. Die Gedichtteile (sowohl in Reim als auch Prosa übersetzt) sind eingerückt und kursiv gesetzt und tragen wirklich einiges zur Atmosphäre bei. In ausgezeichneter Reproduktionsqualität enthält dieser Band darüber hinaus viele zeitgenössische Holzschnitte, die Szenen aus dem Text darstellen.
Sollte dieser Band beim Lesen Appetit gemacht haben: Die restlichen 4 Bände sind bereits erschienen und führen die Geschichte weiter. Da es sich um ein Buch in 5 Bänden handelt und diese keine unabhängigen Fortsetzungen sind, sollte man sich diese natürlich auch zulegen.
Read
February 6, 2022I'm underread in Eastern Lit and this seemed a good space to start shoutout suikoden 1 & 2
There's these nice little italicized interludes with folk songs or sayings or lush description and I'm surprised at how psychologically astute it is without being too too in depth. I really really really want to read Dream of the Red Chamber, which is the better title, as opposed to Story of the Stone, clearly. Anyways, I'm going to try to finish this series first and I'm undecided as to whether the Water Margin or the Marshes of Mount Liang is the better the title. I'm not good at finishing series that I start because I don't usually like to read the same author twice in a row
some lush description here, some great violence and battle scenes, lotta jade, and the story has kind of an aimless character following sense of plot to it with characters swinging out and back into the narrative in a kind of carousel
There's these nice little italicized interludes with folk songs or sayings or lush description and I'm surprised at how psychologically astute it is without being too too in depth. I really really really want to read Dream of the Red Chamber, which is the better title, as opposed to Story of the Stone, clearly. Anyways, I'm going to try to finish this series first and I'm undecided as to whether the Water Margin or the Marshes of Mount Liang is the better the title. I'm not good at finishing series that I start because I don't usually like to read the same author twice in a row
some lush description here, some great violence and battle scenes, lotta jade, and the story has kind of an aimless character following sense of plot to it with characters swinging out and back into the narrative in a kind of carousel
March 22, 2018
I came to Water Margin (the traditional title of what these translators call The Marshes of Mount Liang) as a student of storytelling. I kept hearing that manga (Akira, for example) are heavily influenced by the classic Chinese novels (especially The Journey to the West), and that clue suggested to me that it might be time to look at the sources for myself. Also, I'm a sucker for "classics." As soon as I saw the list of The Four Classic Chinese Novels, and realized I'd only read one of them, well...
This monster novel (120 chapters, in five volumes) is interesting, but not very engaging for the reader of modern novels or short stories. It was meant, it seems, to be read and performed, with musical accompaniment to support the bad poetry, and with breaks between chapters for meals and drinking or a good night's sleep. The chapters aren't structured like short stories, so they don't come to satisfying endings. They generally end in cliffhangers, with a sentence luring you to come back after tea for the next performance. The whole isn't a structured novel, either.
The structure is episodes, with martial arts duels and chase scenes and robberies. The technique reminds me of soap operas, which are just a series of self-closing melodramatic confrontations, which the viewer can pretty much fully understand without any additional context. Water Margin is (based on my 22 chapters of experience) a seemingly endless series of Robin Hood episodes, in which outlaws confront government officials and generally come out on top; or in which citizens get screwed by corrupt government officials and become outlaws. The gist of the novel is that all these outlaws are slowly gathering on Mt. Liang.
Robin Hood is a good comparison, because it has led to countless imitations and retellings, TV series, movies, comic books, and on and on. But the truth is that the story of Robin Hood is dang thin. The characters aren't deep, or terribly conflicted, nor are there many memorable events in the standard storyline. There is no sword in a stone, no Holy Grail (unless that gets imported from Arthur). There's just a Bad King, and his Bad Sheriff, and some woods. But by the time you're twelve you've heard or seen enough versions of the story that you can comfortably slide into experiencing another episode of Robin Hood, knowing it won't be consistent with the ones you've already seen, but you'll have a pretty good idea who the good guys are, and who the bad guys are, and there will probably be a chance for you to be surprised by an imposter.
Now in this case imagine the same structure, but we have lots of Robin Hoods and lots of Little Johns and lots of Will Scarlets, and a number of fighting Friar Tucks, whose stories are all pretty much the same, but with maybe one famous episode apiece. And imagine that the audience will, by the time they were twelve, have heard the whole thing five or six times, so that they are now comfortably projecting more onto the characters than is actually in the text. The characters are old friends, the episodes are remembered, at least vaguely, by repetition rather than originality. That's Water Margin.
Your modern reader, though, isn't going to have that comfortable sense when reading the story for the first time. It's a lot of names, it's a lot of increasingly similar episodes, and there is no clear plot.
The inciting incident is that a bumbling Imperial Marshal doesn't listen to warnings, and opens up a temple chamber in which 108 demon princes are sealed, and lets them loose. He was trying to stop a plague that was sweeping the kingdom, but instead he makes things worse. In this volume that's the last we hear of the demons, and we shift to the individual story episodes. Now one way to interpret the demon episode is that each "hero" that ends up on Mt. Liang is actually one of these demons; but that isn't made clear. Or it could be that the demons have infected the government, and that's why it's okay to cheer for the bandit characters, who are lining up against the demons of Government. We'll see.
I should say that the bandits in this story are not just taking from the rich and giving to the poor. They do that some of the time, but they are also organized criminals and frequent bad actors. Oh, gee, he got drunk and killed a bunch of innocent people again. What a character, eh!?
One last impressionistic remark. While there are government characters who seem to be trying to act responsibly, the presumption of the narrative is that Bureaucrats Are Bad, that All Government Is Oppression, and that the world should be seen through the free-floating paranoid viewpoint of a teenage boy. Much the way that the Marvel Comics Universe and DC Comics Universe movies work; where there are lies behind lies, and characters change sides, and then rejoin, and we don't care all that much.
And, after a while, it all seems pretty much the same. With fight scenes.
This monster novel (120 chapters, in five volumes) is interesting, but not very engaging for the reader of modern novels or short stories. It was meant, it seems, to be read and performed, with musical accompaniment to support the bad poetry, and with breaks between chapters for meals and drinking or a good night's sleep. The chapters aren't structured like short stories, so they don't come to satisfying endings. They generally end in cliffhangers, with a sentence luring you to come back after tea for the next performance. The whole isn't a structured novel, either.
The structure is episodes, with martial arts duels and chase scenes and robberies. The technique reminds me of soap operas, which are just a series of self-closing melodramatic confrontations, which the viewer can pretty much fully understand without any additional context. Water Margin is (based on my 22 chapters of experience) a seemingly endless series of Robin Hood episodes, in which outlaws confront government officials and generally come out on top; or in which citizens get screwed by corrupt government officials and become outlaws. The gist of the novel is that all these outlaws are slowly gathering on Mt. Liang.
Robin Hood is a good comparison, because it has led to countless imitations and retellings, TV series, movies, comic books, and on and on. But the truth is that the story of Robin Hood is dang thin. The characters aren't deep, or terribly conflicted, nor are there many memorable events in the standard storyline. There is no sword in a stone, no Holy Grail (unless that gets imported from Arthur). There's just a Bad King, and his Bad Sheriff, and some woods. But by the time you're twelve you've heard or seen enough versions of the story that you can comfortably slide into experiencing another episode of Robin Hood, knowing it won't be consistent with the ones you've already seen, but you'll have a pretty good idea who the good guys are, and who the bad guys are, and there will probably be a chance for you to be surprised by an imposter.
Now in this case imagine the same structure, but we have lots of Robin Hoods and lots of Little Johns and lots of Will Scarlets, and a number of fighting Friar Tucks, whose stories are all pretty much the same, but with maybe one famous episode apiece. And imagine that the audience will, by the time they were twelve, have heard the whole thing five or six times, so that they are now comfortably projecting more onto the characters than is actually in the text. The characters are old friends, the episodes are remembered, at least vaguely, by repetition rather than originality. That's Water Margin.
Your modern reader, though, isn't going to have that comfortable sense when reading the story for the first time. It's a lot of names, it's a lot of increasingly similar episodes, and there is no clear plot.
The inciting incident is that a bumbling Imperial Marshal doesn't listen to warnings, and opens up a temple chamber in which 108 demon princes are sealed, and lets them loose. He was trying to stop a plague that was sweeping the kingdom, but instead he makes things worse. In this volume that's the last we hear of the demons, and we shift to the individual story episodes. Now one way to interpret the demon episode is that each "hero" that ends up on Mt. Liang is actually one of these demons; but that isn't made clear. Or it could be that the demons have infected the government, and that's why it's okay to cheer for the bandit characters, who are lining up against the demons of Government. We'll see.
I should say that the bandits in this story are not just taking from the rich and giving to the poor. They do that some of the time, but they are also organized criminals and frequent bad actors. Oh, gee, he got drunk and killed a bunch of innocent people again. What a character, eh!?
One last impressionistic remark. While there are government characters who seem to be trying to act responsibly, the presumption of the narrative is that Bureaucrats Are Bad, that All Government Is Oppression, and that the world should be seen through the free-floating paranoid viewpoint of a teenage boy. Much the way that the Marvel Comics Universe and DC Comics Universe movies work; where there are lies behind lies, and characters change sides, and then rejoin, and we don't care all that much.
And, after a while, it all seems pretty much the same. With fight scenes.
January 15, 2013
Part 1 of a highly accessible translation of The Water Margin.
How does a book wrap itself around the aggregation of 108 heroes? It moves briskly. This first installment moves with great speed and of course has many interesting characters running afoul of the law. It does progress from more a civilian/political setup to a much more action-oriented storyline by the end. The only real annoyance was the use of the same cliffhanger phrase at the end of each chapter. ("If you want to find out how/what happened with so-and-so you'll have to read the next page" or something like that)
How does a book wrap itself around the aggregation of 108 heroes? It moves briskly. This first installment moves with great speed and of course has many interesting characters running afoul of the law. It does progress from more a civilian/political setup to a much more action-oriented storyline by the end. The only real annoyance was the use of the same cliffhanger phrase at the end of each chapter. ("If you want to find out how/what happened with so-and-so you'll have to read the next page" or something like that)
February 18, 2018
This is the first book of the five-volume Dent-Young translation of one of the four great Chinese classics, commonly known as "Water Margin." As with the other Chinese classic that I've read, The Journey to the West, Volume 1, it was evidently written to entertain, being a quick read with generous servings of humor and action, and occasional asides to the reader. Also in common with "The Journey to the West," it is interspersed with frequent poetic interludes. I found the poetry less fine than that in "The Journey to the West," but I appreciated the way it lightened the tone. I note that this edition includes pictures that complement the narrative nicely.
I found this easy and diverting reading, and I particularly appreciated the background details of clothing, food, weapons, furniture, customs. Had I felt a fondness for the characters, I might have liked this very much, but alas I did not. Given that the cast of characters is extensive, and that I'm only one fifth of the way through the epic, perhaps I will grow attached to at least a few of the many heroes. But for now it is hard to imagine myself forgiving the one who sliced his wife's throat in anger, or the one tore out the heart and liver of a former friend.
I found this easy and diverting reading, and I particularly appreciated the background details of clothing, food, weapons, furniture, customs. Had I felt a fondness for the characters, I might have liked this very much, but alas I did not. Given that the cast of characters is extensive, and that I'm only one fifth of the way through the epic, perhaps I will grow attached to at least a few of the many heroes. But for now it is hard to imagine myself forgiving the one who sliced his wife's throat in anger, or the one tore out the heart and liver of a former friend.
June 8, 2012
A ripping good book. It may not be what is traditionally considered "picaresque", but it has all the episodic "living by one's wits" ingredients to satisfy me on that account. Loved it. Loved the Asian flavour - something relatively new to me - so inventive and piquant. Love the fights, the trickery, and the little bits of poetry, which were breathtaking snippets of description. Loved how each chapter ended with something like this " And if you want to know how Shin Ji and his friends escaped, you must read the next chapter." Or, "Who it was he saw when he turned round, you must read the next chapter to find out." Brilliant. So fun. It was a job keeping all the characters straight in my head - thankfully they had nicknames too, which were easier to remember. All in all - fabulous! Highly recommended. Chock-full of fun.
October 14, 2021
One of the earliest Chinese novels written in the vernacular language. Greatly indebted to a rich oral tradition, the novel came probably into existence during the 14th c. and is attributed variously to Shi Naian and Luo Guanzhong. It celebrates the exploits of a band of 108 colorful bandit-heroes who rob the wealthy and powerful and fight against government troops.
The stories of the noble bandits of the Liangshan swamp, led by Song Jiang, have a historical core: in the early years of the 12th century a gang led by a certain Song Jiang was active in the vicinity of Kaifeng. However, numerous originally independent stories were later associated with this robber band. In the end, in addition to foot soldiers, the gang consists of 36 main captains and 72 sub-captains, each with their own background.
The first half of the novel is filled with stories about these individual heroes, describing how they rebel against injustice, and then are ostracized by corrupt society and forced to choose the bandit life. The second part describes the gang's joint activities: the imperial troops prove unable to defeat the bandits, so they are offered a pardon and then help the government fight other rebels and (in some editions) even the non-Chinese Khitan invaders of north China. In these various campaigns several of the leaders are killed. To prevent the survivors from revolting later, Song Jiang poisons the survivors at one last feast.
The novel's appeal rests wholly on the first half, in which many highly varied and independent stories are presented, offering an unvarnished picture of many aspects of early Chinese society. The heroes of the novel are highwaymen, coming from the milieu of low-level court officers, scholars, monks, schoolmasters, military instructors, farmers, fishermen and day laborers. Their deeds are described in detail and gruesome facts are not spared the reader. Although in mainland China the bandits are regarded as a sort of proto-Communist peasant rebels, in reality one finds little morality in the novel and in these hooligans - the book can best be compared to the European picaresque novel in which that also is the case.
The level of violence is however particularly high in the Shuihuzhuan: for example, in chapter 31, Wu Song one after another murders 19 people, some in self-defense or out of revenge, but most of the victims, all innocent women and even small children, are killed simply in a terrible rage. Betrayal is the greatest crime, but killing people in a drunken bout is OK. The novel is also rather misogynistic: male bonding is all, interest in women is seen as weakness, and anyhow, all women in the novel are bad, and it is no big matter to kill them. Even the "good hero" Song Jiang kills his wife when she takes a lover, although that was something clearly caused by his own lack of interest in her.
The textual history of the novel is extraordinarily complex, for it includes oral folklore, storytellers' tales, and printed versions of different parts and variations. Main printed editions include a full version in 120 chapters, but also a 70 chapter version (edited by Jin Shengtan in 1643) - this last edition stops after the bandits have gathered in the marshes, and then ends with a dream in which they all are punished - in fact, not such a bad idea for the rest of the novel is of much less interest.
There are some good stories in the novel, although in true picaresque style it is all very much about manipulation, double dealing, tricks and underhandedness. The "slice of life" realism is interesting, and the novel has a great vitality.
The stories of the noble bandits of the Liangshan swamp, led by Song Jiang, have a historical core: in the early years of the 12th century a gang led by a certain Song Jiang was active in the vicinity of Kaifeng. However, numerous originally independent stories were later associated with this robber band. In the end, in addition to foot soldiers, the gang consists of 36 main captains and 72 sub-captains, each with their own background.
The first half of the novel is filled with stories about these individual heroes, describing how they rebel against injustice, and then are ostracized by corrupt society and forced to choose the bandit life. The second part describes the gang's joint activities: the imperial troops prove unable to defeat the bandits, so they are offered a pardon and then help the government fight other rebels and (in some editions) even the non-Chinese Khitan invaders of north China. In these various campaigns several of the leaders are killed. To prevent the survivors from revolting later, Song Jiang poisons the survivors at one last feast.
The novel's appeal rests wholly on the first half, in which many highly varied and independent stories are presented, offering an unvarnished picture of many aspects of early Chinese society. The heroes of the novel are highwaymen, coming from the milieu of low-level court officers, scholars, monks, schoolmasters, military instructors, farmers, fishermen and day laborers. Their deeds are described in detail and gruesome facts are not spared the reader. Although in mainland China the bandits are regarded as a sort of proto-Communist peasant rebels, in reality one finds little morality in the novel and in these hooligans - the book can best be compared to the European picaresque novel in which that also is the case.
The level of violence is however particularly high in the Shuihuzhuan: for example, in chapter 31, Wu Song one after another murders 19 people, some in self-defense or out of revenge, but most of the victims, all innocent women and even small children, are killed simply in a terrible rage. Betrayal is the greatest crime, but killing people in a drunken bout is OK. The novel is also rather misogynistic: male bonding is all, interest in women is seen as weakness, and anyhow, all women in the novel are bad, and it is no big matter to kill them. Even the "good hero" Song Jiang kills his wife when she takes a lover, although that was something clearly caused by his own lack of interest in her.
The textual history of the novel is extraordinarily complex, for it includes oral folklore, storytellers' tales, and printed versions of different parts and variations. Main printed editions include a full version in 120 chapters, but also a 70 chapter version (edited by Jin Shengtan in 1643) - this last edition stops after the bandits have gathered in the marshes, and then ends with a dream in which they all are punished - in fact, not such a bad idea for the rest of the novel is of much less interest.
There are some good stories in the novel, although in true picaresque style it is all very much about manipulation, double dealing, tricks and underhandedness. The "slice of life" realism is interesting, and the novel has a great vitality.
August 22, 2021
The first volume containing the first 22 chapters of the epic The Marshes of Mount Liang, also known as The Water Margin, one of the four classic Chinese novels. It tells in the form of a single novel the tales of a group of men (women play a very small role in these novels) who fate has led to lead the lives of bandits on Mount Liang after crossing officialdom in some way or another. The Marshes of Mount Liang is some 700 years old but in this new translation of the complete work, the adventures retelling is fresh and moves along quickly. It also has the ability to shock as the author(s) clearly had a very accepting notion of violence and criminal conduct so long as that conduct conflicted with officialdom.
June 7, 2018
This is a really entertaining book: it's really hard to put down and it is really fun and exciting! It gives you a good sense of the historical time in China, and the writing is very good. The only complaint I have is that there are many characters and we often leave the previous protagonist and start with a new one in what often feels like a totally new story. I know that they're all related, but it would be nice if there was more of an overarching plot throughout it all that united them more.
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