Sueno en el pabellon rojo Tomo I

A Dream of Red Mansions #1

by Cao Xueqin, Gao E

A mediados del siglo XVIII, época esplendiosa de la Dinastía Qing, surgió una novela que presentió los últimos días del feudalismo y le dio el pésame, fue la novela "Sueños en el Pabellón Rojo" de Cao Xueqin. "Sueños en el Pabellón Rojo" es un hito entre las novelas clásicas de China. Un factor clave para Cao Xueqin en la descripción de esta gran obra es su talento y cultura artística, lo más importante es su experiencia de la familia de Cao Xueqin fue allanada y se encontró en aprieto. El abuelo de Cao Xueqin gozó del favor y de la confianza del Emperador Kangxi, y Cao Xueqin pasó su infancia en una familia rica. Pero más posteriormente, hubo un gran cambio en la falimia de le destituyeron y toda la familia se trasladó a Beijing desde el sur de China. El jóven Cao Xueqin pasó todas dificultades y las inconstancias en las relaciones humanas. En su edad avanzada, Cao Xueqin vivió en las afueras al oeste de Beijing, escribió los primeros 80 capítulos bajo condiciones bastante duras, pero falleció sin terminar todo el libro. Cuando no se terminó la "Sueños en el Pabellón Rojo" antes del fallecimiento de Cao Xueqin, el manuscrito de esta novela se popularizó. Después de que Cao Xueqin murió, otro escritor que se llama Gao E siguió la descripción y terminó los últimos 40 capítulos. La "Sueños en el Pabellón Rojo" es una gran obra en que intervienen los parientes imperiales, las nobles y burócratas, mozos, sirvientas, monjes, comerciantes y campesinos, casi abraza todas las clases de la sociedad en aquella época. La magnitud de la descripción contiene todos los aspectos como los protocolos, el trato social, relaciones ceremoniales y funerales en las clases superiores, la vida popular de las masas populares, la plantación de flores y árboles, la medicina, la adivición, la astrología y fisionomía, los espectáculos populares como narración, etc, muestra todos los campos de la vida social en la Dinastía Qing.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, China, Chinese Literature, Historical, Literature, Historical Fiction

862 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 1998

About the author

Xueqin Cao (Chinese: 曹雪芹; pinyin: Cáo Xuěqín; Wade–Giles: Ts'ao Hsueh-ch'in, 1715 or 1724 — 1763 or 1764) was the pseudonym of a Qing Dynasty Chinese writer, best known as the author of Dream of the Red Chamber, one of the Four Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature.
It has been suggested that his given name was Zhan Cao (曹霑) and his courtesy name is Mengruan (夢阮; 梦阮; literally "Dream about Ruan" or "Dream of Ruan")[...]

Reviews

[Huy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ui, đáng lý phải đọc cuốn này sớm hơn, để học cách đi đứng nói năng cho sang trọng, thanh lịch, nhã nhặn, sống một cuộc sống vô tư vô lo. Vậy chứ đọc cuốn này mình ngồi cười quá trời, vì cái sự cầu kỳ quá mức trong cách sống, ăn uống, sinh hoạt của gia đình này đôi lúc cảm giác quá cường điệu, à bởi vì mình sinh ra ở thời hiện đại nên không tưởng tượng được là mọi thứ được dụng công như vậy thì sẽ như thế nào thôi, chứ tác giả viết cảm giác rất tự nhiên.
À, cuốn đầu thì chỉ mới ấn tượng vì cuộc sống giàu sang là nhiều thôi, nên review tới đây, hạ hồi phân giải tiếp.

[Vishy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have wanted to read Cao Xueqin's 'A Dream of Red Mansions' for a long time. I tried once but got distracted after reading 50 pages. When one of my friends invited a few of us for a readalong of the book, I couldn't resist and jumped in.

'A Dream of Red Mansions' is one of the four great Chinese classics. It is an epic novel. The translation I have by Yang Hsien-Yi and Gladys Yang runs into three volumes and a total of 1900 pages. If I finish reading it, it will be the longest book I've ever read, beating Vikram Seth's 'A Suitable Boy' comfortably.

The book follows the fortunes of one family and their relatives and their near and dear ones. But the book doesn't start like that. It starts with a goddess trying to repair a hole in the sky and using many big stones to do that. When she finishes it, one stone is left. She abandons that stone on earth. Across time over the eons, that stone becomes sentient, starts thinking and it feels depressed that it is alone and it is not able to experience the world. A Buddhist monk and a Taoist priest pass by and when they hear the stone's story, they take pity on it and decide to place it in the middle of a human family so that it can experience worldly joy and sorrow. This is the reason why the book is sometimes also called 'The Story of the Stone'. What follows is the story of one family as the stone perceives it.

'A Dream of Red Mansions' is a very classically Chinese book. If you have read a Jin Yong book, you'll know exactly what this means. That is, there are only three things in the book. The sentences in the story describe events in the story and move it forward, or they describe the physical surroundings and set the scene, or there is conversation between characters, lots of it. There are just these three things. There are no long monologues, or philosophical musings, or exploration of the inner worlds of the characters. Sometimes there are philosophical musings which are part of a conversation, in which the characters quote classical poetry and old Chinese proverbs to make a point, but that's it. Everything contributes to moving the story forward. So once you get into the flow of the story, the pages fly. Atleast they flew for me. But there is one thing that might slow down one's reading pace. There are lots of detailed descriptions. If there is a party, it is described in a lot of detail. If a guest visits home, we get a primer into Chinese culture on how a guest is received and treated. If there is a funeral, there is a description of every detail and ritual. The book depicts 18th century Chinese culture in rich detail and it is probably based on the author's own experience. It is fascinating to read. It might also be overwhelming if you are not into details.

The other thing about the book is that there are lots of characters, hundreds of them. It is sometimes hard to keep up with who's who. Sometimes the characters' names are so close to each other that if you are not familiar with Chinese names it can get confusing. For example, there is Chia Cheng, Chia Chen, Chia Chiang, Chia Chian. At one point, I didn't know who was who. One way of handling this is to make a family chart and include atleast the important characters in that. Another way of doing it is to go with the flow. I decided to do that. At some point, I discovered, for example, that Chia Cheng was Baoyu's dad and the other three Chias weren't that important. Then there are Hsi-feng and Hsi-jen who were important characters and their names looked close to me and so could be potentially confusing. But after reading for a while, I could recognize them properly – Hsi-feng is an important daughter-in-law in the house, and Hsi-jen was Baoyu's maid. They were two of my favourite characters and so it was easy for me to remember. One more thing that was confusing for me was that the translation I read used the Wade-Giles naming system, while I am more comfortable with the modern Pinyin system. In some cases, translation of names between Wade-Giles and Pinyin was pretty straightforward. For example Pao-Yu in Wade-Giles was Baoyu in Pinyin, Tai-Yu in Wade-Giles was Daiyu in Pinyin. But at other times it was not that straightforward – for example, Hsi-Feng in Wade-Giles was Xifeng in Pinyin, Chin Ko-Ching in Wade-Giles is Qin Keqing in Pinyin. Sometimes the names were so far apart that I couldn't guess the Pinyin names. This posed problems when I was discussing the book with fellow readalong participants, because I had to be sure that we were discussing the same character. There was a further complication here, because in a newer translation, the translators had changed the names of some of the characters – Hsi-jen was called Aroma in that. No one, of course, can make this leap from Hsi-jen to Aroma 😁 One has to consult the Wade-Giles to Pinyin dictionary frequently to get a sense of things. I hate doing that and so I just muddled along.

'A Dream of Red Mansions' has also been described as the love story of Baoyu and Daiyu. That is, of course, part of the book, and it is fascinating, but because it is an epic book, there cannot be just one story in it. There is Baochai who is as important a character as Daiyu and till now, it is not clear whether Baoyu likes Daiyu more or Baochai more. Both Baochai and Daiyu write beautiful poetry, but while Daiyu is deeply emotional and gets affected by the smallest happenings and bursts into tears, Baochai is more mature and more graceful. My two favourite characters till now though are Hsi-feng and Hsi-jen (or Xifeng and Xiren, if you prefer Pinyin). Hsi-feng is a strong woman who manages her relationships with her family members skillfully, takes additional responsibility when required, is tough when required. The way she handles the maids in the family is interesting to see – tough at times when they slack at work during important occasions (sometimes a bit too tough – on one occasion she gets a maid whipped for coming late, to set an example – I felt the punishment was too much and too cruel), and kind and friendly at other times during informal occasions. I am looking forward to seeing how her character arc develops. Hsi-jen is Baoyu's maid and is almost like his best friend, governess and lover. She is the closest to the perfect character in the book – all nice and nothing bad. It is hard not to like her. I am looking forward to finding out what happens to her as the story progresses.

The book depicts Chinese culture of the 18th century in a realistic way – the good and the not-so-good together. Sometimes the not-so-good things are heartbreaking, like when someone is unhappy with a maid or a page and gets them whipped, or sometimes gets them dismissed from work. Getting dismissed was the worst thing for a maid working in a distinguished family, because it means she is disgraced and she has slid back into poverty. One of the maids in the story is so heartbroken after she gets dismissed that she commits suicide. It was heartbreaking to read.

There many beautiful scenes depicted in the story. There are frequent quarrels between Baoyu and Daiyu, and sometimes we feel that they are being silly, and at other times we feel that they are just spoilt brats from rich families who don't realize how lucky they are. But sometimes their fights remind us of ourselves when we were young and being silly and fought with our partners or siblings or cousins and sulked for days and wasted lots of time which could have been spent in more pleasurable ways, and it makes us feel young again and we identify with our silly younger selves, and it makes us smile. Cao Xueqin captures the way young people behave towards each other quite beautifully and it is one of the wonderful parts of the book. In one of my favourite scenes, Daiyu feels heartbroken after a silly fight (or rather about something she imagined) that she composes a poem and recites it and the poem is beautiful and moving and heartbreaking and Baoyu who is hiding behind a tree, listens to it, and bursts into tears. It is such a beautiful scene. Another of my favourite scenes, or rather chapters in the story is when Baoyu's sister tells him that they should all start a poetry or literary club, and all the young people get together and decide what they'll do as part of the club, and they meet again and compose poetry and recite them and discuss their merits and decide whose poems are their favourites. This chapter comes out of the blue and almost feels like a digression from the main story, but it is very beautiful. Another of my favourite scenes is when Keqing is seriously ill and one day when Xifeng is deep asleep, Keqing comes in her dream and they have a beautiful conversation which is very moving. Of course, this kind of dream is almost always a dark premonition, but I won't tell you more, you have to read the book to find out what happened next.

'A Dream of Red Mansions' was hard reading after the first few chapters. The hundreds of characters and the rapid succession of events and the infinite number of details was overwhelming and it nearly sunk me. But halfway through the first volume, at around 300 pages, the story acquired a life of its own, it started flowing smoothly like a serene river, I wanted to turn the page and find out what happened next and what my favourite characters were up to, and then I knew that the book had started to grow on me and I'd fallen in love with it. It took some time but it was worth it.

I have finished reading the first part of 'A Dream of Red Mansions' now. That is 40 chapters, 600 pages in. I'm loving it so far. Two more parts, 80 chapters, 1300 pages to go. Wish me luck 😁

Have you read 'A Dream of Red Mansions'? What do you think about it?

[Tocotin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have always wanted to read this, but I ended up liking it much less than I thought. The story is a bit disjointed, mostly consisting of people taking strolls in the garden, composing poetry or crying over flowers; nothing wrong with that, but the whole picture is kinda insipid and irritating. On top of this, the characters are irritating also, not very sympathetic, and not in a good way.
Now I don't mind refined or unrefined poetry, and I don't have to like the characters to like the book, for example in "The Plum in the Golden Vase" which I adore there is a lot of poetry, and not one decent character - but THIS book has characters endlessly congratulating each other on their refinement and understanding, while making quite brutal fun of the outside world, and showing no real compassion to anyone outside their circle.
The Japanese are right that in a way this is an equivalent of "The Tale of Genji", and the atmosphere of a rich household in the times of Qing dynasty is captured very vividly, and the characters are well-drawn and complex, and the poetry and literature plays a huge role. All right. It is addictive to read, it takes the reader to another world and place. But some of the scenes and situations would try the patience of a saint all the same.
Maybe I just dislike reading TOO MUCH about rich folk pissing gold and shitting silver, as "The Plum" would say. The only characters I really care about are the Old Ancestress, Shi Xiangyun and YES SO WHAT Xue Pan, also maybe to some extent his sister Xue Baochai. The poetry game scene with the actor and Xue Pan was hilarious, and I like him because he's a primitive bully, but honest and good to his sister, and not afraid of falling out of favor with Baoyu or upsetting him (like the others).
Baoyu is ok I guess, even though spoiled. I really can't stand Daiyu, but she is an interesting character. And last but not least, I like Wang Xifeng much less than I expected. I feel like writing a fanfic about the little boy with the box of scissors in the temple.
I want to read the rest, but I don't know when I'd be able to buy the book, because this is the first English translation printed in Peking in 1978 (with the hilarious foreword with bold-print citations from Chairman Mao lol, and beautiful illustrations), and I found it and bought in BookOff in Ikebukuro for only 400 yen, couldn't believe my luck! So I'll either get the new translation from Amazon or buy the Japanese version.

[Dina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Both brilliance of this novel and the dedication of scholars that investigate each of its countless riddles turned my reading experience into an adventure. On the one hand, it reads like a cosy fairy tale about love and Confucian virtues, meditatively slow-paced and peculiar. On the other, this book is quite a phenomenon in literature, with its elaborate symbolism, folklore references, poetry, and—to a foreign eye—fascinating titbits of (old) Chinese culture. I’ve finished one third by now, and I’m ready for the upcoming seasons.

As I mentioned, the true value of this novel can be uncovered only with precise study of its cultural context and coded messages. A lot in the book is left unsaid, just like the book keeps reminding us that the “True deeds are hidden”—the reader is left to decode what happened behind the scenes by subtle cues and observable events. The author foreshadows that in Chapter 1 in a poem: “All a fool the author hold, But their zest who can unfold?”. To foreigners—especially used to very straightforward Western writing—many implicit storylines and explanations would otherwise remain obscure. I was lucky to find a Russian podcast with a chapter-by-chapter discussion, which is a huge part of why I enjoyed the story so much. Another thing that adds even more layers is that Chinese—with its sayings and wordplay via characters—is extremely hard to translate accurately, which explains why there are so many editions with multiple variations and meanings assigned to the same pieces of text and even character names.* This complexity is why this legendary Chinese love story never actually mentions the word “love” at all, describing romantic feelings as caring or ailing for someone instead.

And now we leave our earthly life to descend to the Realm of Spoilers! But honestly, chances are much of this will be missed by most people even after reading anyway.

Spoilers are rather innate to this novel, given that already in Chapter 5, we read the ballads that describe fates of the Twelve Hairpins of Jinling—essentially, all main female characters of the novel, since hairpin in Chinese (chai) also symbolises young women. These ballads are compiled under the title “Dream of the Red Chamber”, curiously coinciding with the novel’s own title—the red chamber referring to enclosed living spaces of wealthy women in Old China. The trick here is that Cao Xueqin does not give away his plot lines easily, coding them inside poems using symbols and word play. Much of similar foreshadowing will be sprinkled all over the novel in plays that characters watch, poems they write, their actions and observations, and prophecies they hear from passer-by monks.

The fact that the “story of the Stone”—the original title of the first edition of this novel—started with the Foreboding fairy is a foreboding on its own—for us to look for clues in the events to come. Many jokes the characters make reveal truth and predictions, such as when Daiyu gets her poet name—the Fairy of the Siaosian River alluding to her past life as the spiritual grass at the riverside. Similarly, Baoyu jokes several times that he’ll become a monk, foretelling his own fate. The fact that Baochai had her own golden heirloom is picked up by many Jia as a sign, because the “unity of gold and jade” was a symbol of a perfect marriage. The prophecy that dying Keqing leaves when visiting Xifeng’s dream warns about the fall of the Jia family, which is especially evocative when Keqing’s name means “the herald of feeling” and she was the one—or at least her Dream World version—who introduced Baoyu to the world of intense feelings. These details turn the novel into a delightful puzzle full of Easter eggs.

Even the names of the main characters—Jia Bao-yu and Dai-yu—are a conundrum for translators. The character shared between their first names ( yu) can have different meanings, including jade (meaning either nephrite or jadeite), gemstone, king, or even pure. It signifies us not only that Baoyu is the sentient precious stone from the story in Chapter 1 but also that he has a spiritual connection with Daiyu. This kind of multilevel thinking is required with almost every character. For example, first characters in the names of Baoyu’s sisters—the four “springs” ( chun), Yuanchun, Yinchun, Tanchun and Xichun—together become a popular saying, and the last characters from the names of their servants together comprise four talents praised in a scientist of the time that these women possess—music, chess, calligraphy and painting. One of the names—Jia Yucun—sounds like the phrase “false words remain”, underlying how his character—being an unprincipled carrièrist—is what Baoyu hates the most. The contrasting name is of his friend—Chen Shiying—whose name sounds exactly like the phrase about the hidden true deeds. Together, their last names represent the main dichotomy in the book—the truth (chen) of the Dream Realm and the falseness (jia) of the Mundane Realm that skews the reality.

The genre of this novel is no less complex. The premise is highly autobiographical, based on the author’s own life in a wealthy family whose riches and status started to decline, just like that of the Jia clan. This premise and related storylines can also be classified as social realism, as we get a very detailed impression of the everyday life of upper classes and complicated hierarchical relationships they had with the worlds as well as rules and traditions they lived by. Yet, the narrative feels like it’s a bedtime story. The fairytale elements include pieces of Chinese folk tales and mythology as well as belief systems—most prominently related to Taoism and Confucianism. Apart from all this, the novel is also deeply philosophical, pondering the questions of impermanence, differences beween reality and fiction, nature of love. Moreover, the structure predates TV sitcoms, with its light-hearted humor and episodic chapters that end in variations of “If you’d like to know what happened, read the next chapter”. The history behind writing, publications, and translations of the novel can build up their own fascinating prequel series. The book and its complicated lore also feels very meta, as the story starts by introducing a fictional book with the Story of the Stone written by a mysterious monk Kun-Kun who “got to know feelings”—suggesting he is the reflection of our main character who as a result of his feelings, becomes a monk.

The premise is ingenious but is based on one of the most original folklore I’ve ever encountered. Fairy Nuwa—goddess of works, one of the seven daughters of Jade Emperor, the ruler of heavens—created magical stones to mend the collapsed skies, but one of them was left unused and abandoned. This sentient stone roamed heavens (the Dream Realm) until another fairy Chinghuan—the goddess of foreboding—made him reside in the Palace of Purple Clouds. Nearby, during his walk along the Spiritual River, the Stone met a dying blade of spiritual grass called Purple Pearl and helped it survive by watering it with sweet dew—the essence of heaven and earth. This grass later turned into a girl and promised to repay the stone with “the tears of a whole lifetime” when the Stone descends to the mortal world on Earth. When bored, the Stone asks two passer-by monks to bring him into the Mundane Realm to taste mortal life and thus, gets reincarnated as a boy called Baoyu—Precious Jade—as an heir of the wealthy Jia family, where he meets the reincarnation of Purple Jade—Daiyu.

Everything about Baoyu’s and Daiyu’s pure and naive—should I say “heavenly”—personality clashes with the pretentiousness and vulgarity of the material world of Old China. They prefer to hide in their Eden-like home garden on Earth—their only purpose in life is not money and power but rather to explore the world and enjoy nature and art. The impulses of their pure hearts—a funeral for the dying flower petals or Baoyu’s tendency to put others first—are considered improper antics. Only from books Baoyu and Daiyu learn that following their heart is part of human nature—but these books are forbidden in aristocratic families as such frivolity was considered improper, especially for noble women. The gentle nature of Baoyu and Daiyu makes them very sensitive and passionate, expressing itself in their art and acute observations. However, they are faced with the fact that earthly life makes such sensitive people prone to human vices—like Baoyu’s “abstract lewdness”—and suffering. As one article wrote, the novel shows “how true love and basic humanity fail due to society's patriarchal-feudal structures”. The pursuit of such vices—preferring sense over sensibility—is the ultimate reasons for the tragic fates of all “hairpins of Jinling” and in the end, the whole Jia family. Multiple attempts to stop Baoyu and Daiyu from following their hearts, in the long run, would save them from the tragic fates in this mortal life, but they choose to stay true to themselves instead.

On the other side—advocates of sensibility—we have Baochai, a sister from an equally wealthy family who follows the rules and prioritises propriety—she fits the portrait of a perfect wife way better than introverted, headstrong Daiyu. She also shares a character with Baoyu’s name, signalling their connection, but their bond is very earthly, this attraction is physical, and unlike Daiyu, she cannot connect with him spiritually. Daiyu is the only person who doesn’t want to change Baoyu, unlike Baochai or Xiren—both care for him deeply but their priority is to use him to elevate their social status. They are very well aware that the way to do it is only through pleasing Baoyu’s mother and grandmother: while Daiyu voiced her own preference when asked to choose a play and dishes, “Baochai knew well that Mother Jia, like all old people, preferred funny plays and sweet and soft dishes that did not need to be chewed, and, taking all this into account, she answered the questions”. Both these girls have strong feelings, but unlike Baoyu and Daiyu, they learnt to hide them for the sake of propriety and achieving their goals. The contrast is even more obvious when we see how rare characters who share Baoyu’s sensitivity and values—Qingwen, Zhon, and Keqing—all tragically die very young.

In essence, this is also an ode to womanhood. One of the first things we learn about Baoyu is that he thinks that "Women… are made of water, men of mud". Baoyu represents everything that toxic masculinity is not—in fact, “He did not consider himself a man and never thought that he should serve as an example for his younger brothers”. Although the surrounding culture cannot accept this mindset, he still gladly sacrifices himself for the sake of his idolised women. We are constantly reminded that each of Baoyu’s sisters and servants have multifaceted personalities, with their own talents and values. All of them have unique life courses. The majority in the Jia family are women, ruled by their matriarch Grandmother and her young—twenty-something—but incredibly industrious daughter-in-law playfully nicknamed Spicy Phoenix. We also see that in this household, female servants—despite the obvious hierarchy—are still intimate friends and advisors to their ladies and their help is publicly appreciated. Most women tend to get along, despite occasional manipulations and power plays involved in the class divide. Even when their interests clash, the transitory conflicts are usually resolved for everyone’s peace of mind. Even wives and concubines are very practical in forming a friendly collaboration, and the mean plotting concubine Zhao is almost an only truly negative character. At the same time, we closely observe the various struggles that women of different social circles face: from the servants who cannot refuse advances from their lords to orphans from wealthy families abused in different ways.

Other characters also shed light on life and consequences of that time. Baoyu’s elder sister Yuanchun—one of favorite concubines of the Emperor—sacrificed herself to ensure her family’s wealth and social status. Although she never explicitly tells about her feelings, we can deduce the truth from the hints: in one of the chapters when everyone has to come up with a riddle, Yuanchun’s riddle is about a firecracker—a metaphor for her empty and lonely life in the palace that ends with nothing. We also get enough details to determine the exact hierarchy and social dynamics between the family members. For example, we find that Tanchun is a daughter of a concubine, but she considers Lady Wang—the wife—her “mother” and her status is unusually high in comparison to that of her unlikable brother because she knows how to get along with other—higher status—family members. One of the most intriguing character—Keqing—comes from a family of commoners, and her place and high status in the Jia house is impossible to explain—her funeral is as grand as that of the highly praised noblemen. We know that akin to Baoyu and Daiyu, she may also come from the Dream Realm and thus, favoured by the fairy goddess. But we are also hinted by the town talk that she may be involved inappropriately with her father-in-law—Zia Zhen, although this is never directly confirmed in the text. Given the power imbalance, it was likely not her choice and when they were discovered by a maid, she dies “of shame”—which can explain why after her death, Zhen is the one who mourns the most and invests in all sorts of absolution ceremonies for her soul and why her maid kills herself.

The story vividly depicts life and aesthetics of feudal China. In contrast to other world religions, it was curious to read about how Taoism and Buddhism could peacefully coexist and even collaborate: the Stone is helped by a Taoist and a Buddhist who travel together, and the Jia family regularly makes donations to temples from different gods and religions. Sexuality was viewed in a very interesting way compared to modern days: Baoyu’s romantic relationships with boys were generally acceptable, albeit frowned upon by his noble family, similarly as how his affairs with maids would be. The tragic end in both cases was not due to homosexuality but rather aggravating circumstances, as a consequence for Baoyu’s unknowing interference in personal business of his school bully and then his father’s superior. In fact, Xue Pan was well-known as a homosexual—people even joked when he suddenly got interested in a girl—but he was never persecuted or otherwise punished for this, despite also being bad-tempered, an alcoholic, and technically, a murderer. In general, romantic love was viewed very separately from serious matters like marriage, which was a strictly economic relationship. Very specific historical details also clarify the ambiguities in the story; for example, knowing that waistband was treated as part of underwear implies that Baoyu received a very intimate gift, which in turn implies a romantic—and likely physical—relationship. Knowing that actresses had a status lower than slaves—typically sold by their parents—we can understand why Daiyu felt so insulted when others compared her with a young actress.

Each chapter does have a feel of a dream—pleasant or nightmarish. Most settings are beautiful, with elaborate poetic names likes the Garden of Fragrant Herbs or the Sea of Sorrow. The plot sometimes gets dark, but at the start of the book, the tone is generally light-hearted and melancholic. There’s coziness in this tone and slow pace that I enjoyed returning to; right when we meet the first character, his lifestyle epitomises this feeling and incidentally, the ideal life that Baoyu keeps seeking: “Chen Shiying was a quiet and humble man, neither seeking fame nor feats. He admired flowers, planted bamboo, drank wine and read poetry”. There’s a gratifying feeling in recognising the numerous characters—to memorise whom one needs to stare at the family tree for hours. The way characters behave is very consistent and fits their age—we can see the complicated dynamics between Baoyu and the girls, who are a few years older than him and having more experience in life, can foresee and manipulate his actions. I loved learning about little details like the tradition to name the monasteries, such as the delightful “monastery of Donuts”.

The narrative naturally weaves in pieces of old wisdom in every chapter, thereby adding even more substance to this world that balances between real and magical. While some of them sound very abstract (“Purity and Reason, Cunning and Evil - between them there is an eternal struggle in which they cannot destroy each other”), others suggest very practical considerations (“If a trickle of evil, breaking free, settles in some person at the time of his birth, he will become neither virtuous nor villainous. But intelligence and ability will prevail over falsehood and treachery.”, which sounds very close to the nature versus nurture principle). Baoyu’s own character shows that his sensitivity contains both capacity to be good (empathetic, passionate, artistic) as well as evil (self-absorbed, explosive, impulsive)—two sides of the precious stone, representing the duality of human nature.

* I personally found the Russian translation richer in how it transfers the subtle and culture-specific communication. I translated most quotes from my version directly instead of using the English translation because it felt very dry and the translator replaced many culture-specific references and poetic phrases to very generic that don’t have the same meaning.

[LittleAsian Sweatshop · Rating 5 out of 5]

I may be biased, because this is one of my mom's favorite books and I grew up hearing parts of the story. Finally in HS, my mom was able to locate an English translation of this book, and I finally got to read it myself...and it was just as awesome as my mom made it sound.

Yes, the story is confusing and every character seems to have three different names (I had to start a chart to keep track), but the sweeping epic arcing of the story, the subplots, and the absolute brilliance and waste of the lives of these lives was just...breathtaking.

None of the characters were perfectly sympathic, but all of them had passion and personalities and were so very real. I hated Bao Yu for his self-indulgence, yet I loved him for his gentleness and kindness. I loved Phoenix for her strength and will, yet hated her for it at the same time. The depths of the characters just grew richer and deeper with each page. And the threads of all the subplots all came together to add shading to their personalities.

Yes, it's a hard book to read, and yes does get confusing and maddening at times...but it's so worth the pain.

[Raúl · Rating 5 out of 5]

Una de las grandes novelas de la historia de la literatura, desde una perspectiva occidental nos recuerda En Busca del Tiempo Perdido, y nos habla de los deleites de lo mundano y de lo leve de estos, así como del paso del tiempo y de sus efectos inexorables sobre los individuos. Sin una trama definida y única, es una historia de decadencia, en que el autor nos dibuja el mejor de los mundos posibles que vive alrededor de Baoyu y sus primas, las 12 Bellezas, confinados en el Patio Rojo y Alegre de la Casa Rongg.

[Terri · Rating 3 out of 5]

I couldnt finish reading it - tooo freakin long. i'll give it another try another time. but i know and love the history behind the book - the themes, scenario, etc. - and all those details are immensely rich and beautiful. I am just waiting for the right translator to make it more interesting! Now I know what they mean about lost in translation, cuz I was seriously bored in translation.

[木 · Rating 5 out of 5]

了不起的译本！戴本的翻译语言上更为地道灵活，杨本在文化，风俗的处理上更符合原著。各有千秋！在把红楼梦原著啃了三四遍后，读这本杨宪益夫妇的译本，还是很快进入故事，从英语的角度读红楼，很有意思的体验😄😄😄

[Eric C · Rating 3 out of 5]

Off-the-cuff thoughts on “A Dream of Red Mansions”:
Ye cats, the longest book I’ve ever read (2,549 pages, Yang translation).
Written in the 1700s, also known as “Dream of Red Chamber” or “Story of the Stone”, this is considered perhaps the ultimate expression of Chinese literature. It is so dense that a whole branch of study called “Redology” has sprung up over the last century.
And once again I feel I am so far out of my depth.
But here’s the thing:
It’s an incredibly detailed probable-autobiography of Cao Xueqin’s family’s fall from extreme power and wealth into disgrace and disaster.
But the framing device is of a piece of sentient stone which takes human form to see what life is like.
But the story doesn’t really kick in until we get a Dickens-like orphan girl who moves in with this huge wealthy family and falls in love with her cousin amidst scheming ne’er-do-wells and a family desperate to preserve appearances.
But it’s interlaced with pretty explicit sex stories and sex farce scenes.
But almost all of the 400 characters (seriously) are literal and metaphorical representatives of competing aspects of feudal Chinese life (Taoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, classical beauty, iron will, bureaucrats, concubines, etc).
But it features a dozen well-drawn women as main characters, which was unheard of in world lit at the time, much less in hyper-patriarchal China.
But because it’s entirely about rich people who do nothing but search for ways to fill their idle days… almost nothing happens.
For 2,000 pages.
There are hundreds of pages devoted to the young people setting up the rules and names of a poetry club and organizing stanzas of what it feels like to view an orchid. Hundreds of pages devoted to who will sit next to who at which feast, who ordered which opera singers to come to which party, which bush should be planted beside which tree in the elaborate garden… all of it feels totally accurate, and as an anthropological examination of a time and place and class… it’s brilliant.
But oh my was I frequently bored.
Just often enough the love story pokes its head up, or someone plots revenge on someone, or gets in trouble with the law, and the book leaps to life. And the final 500 pages of the rapid changes are thrilling and awful. But what a meandering wander to get there.
-More is lost in this translation, I think, than in most books - i.e., the very nature of the Chinese characters and their sequence on the page conveys meanings/nuances/jokes that simply don’t have much depth when written in English. I have no doubt this is a lot richer in the original.
- And yes, all the social planning and etiquette-following is also found in Austen and Wharton and other western writers, but it’s usually the background against which the plot takes place - here it IS the plot. For 2,000 pages.
- And in Russian novels there is frequently the upper class who sits around producing nothing and just planning what to wear to what party, but there is inevitably SOMEONE who comes in warning of the imminent fall of society, of the need to PRODUCE something in this world. No such person shows up in "Red Mansions”, making it so insular and claustrophobically aimless.
- I don’t know if it was a general 1700s thing, or a rich Chinese thing, but everyone is OBSESSED with their health, avoiding anything that might make them ill, getting doctors to prescribe elaborate cures for illnesses, being super careful to follow old traditions to stay well (there aren’t propitious stars for using the backyard gate, so you have to wait until someone makes the proper prayers and offerings to the proper stars before setting out)… and then of course many of the characters do get sick and die anyway.
- This book did give me some useful new euphemisms: masturbation is “finger play”, and my favorite new term for sex: “The sport of cloud and rain”.

[James Violand · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Chinese have patience. What do you expect for such an ancient people? This 3 volume set follows the once-powerful and influential Chia family during its decline. Its hopeful savior, Pao-yu, was born with a precious inscribed piece of jade in his mouth and is the pampered darling of all the women in the family, much to the disgust of his stern father. The story would not be tolerated by an average reader in the West. It depicts the often mundane occurrences in daily life within the family's small city. Here lies its magic. The reader is sucked in to a world which disappeared nearly 400 years ago. As they age, sicken and die, you become emotionally tied to these characters as though they were your family. But you must have patience because very little happens. That's part of its charm.

[Abbie Butcher · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am actually listening to the audiobook of this one, read by a woman with an Asian accent, so it did feel more genuine and interesting, I think. I am really enjoying this folk story (so far), lots of great attention to detail.

[Carol Palmer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've just finished reading all 3 volumes of this translation, but will write my review for all 3 under this volume 1 entry.

Several things struck me as I read this, some of them related to my growing up and living in the USA:
1. It's hard to imagine living a life as free of everyday concerns as these wealthy, noble Chinese families lived. Talk about an income gap! And civil rights were nonexistent. You had the right to do what the Emperor wanted you to do -- that's about the only "right" you had.
2. Of course, I was reading this in English, so I can only trust in the translator, but the story seemed remarkably modern. It goes to show that human nature hasn't really changed throughout time. Our material culture, technical knowledge, and scientific discoveries have changed drastically; but human nature -- not so much!
3. The last 40 chapters were written by a different author (Gao E) after the original author's (Cao Xueqin) death. We have no way of knowing how Cao Xueqin would have ended the book. In my opinion, Gao E took the story in a direction that didn't seem to fit with the original plot. Disasters started happening for the families too quickly. It seemed to me that he tried to "force" an ending in as short a time as possible. That was the main reason I had for giving 4 stars instead of 5. I would give 5 stars to the first 2 volumes and 4 stars to the third one.

Overall, when I began the first volume I wondered if I would be able to keep up with all the people and events. But the story flowed so well that I found it quite easy! I'm glad I read it!

[Dan · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book provides a fascinating look into a very particular slice of Chinese society in the 1700s. Unfortunately, that look, while providing lots of interesting and intriguing cultural insights, does not provide very many relatable characters. In fact, I ended up disliking a good number of them, including some of the most famous protagonists. Taiyu/Daiyu in particular is such an exasperating character-- I could barely force myself to read some of the scenes where she plays a heavy role. Such a combination of arrogance, pettiness, short-temper and pride-- and yet I hear she's one of the most beloved characters? Hard to believe. Some of the other characters were a bit better (Pao-chai wasn't too bad), but I find it hard to care about what happened to most of them. The few I did care about (for example, Zhen Shiyin and his kidnapped daughter, Yinglian) seemed to be very much not the center of attention. That said, I haven't read the following volumes; I assume they eventually make a reappearance.

TLDR: I recommend this book for cultural reasons. It's fascinating to see what attitudes/beliefs/practices have persisted to the present day, and which have disappeared. If you read this book simply as a novel, you may be disappointed.

[Raymonds009 · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had never heard of this book until recently. What a pleasant surprise. Hidden in a series of scenes which someone compared to "Gone With the Wind" is a sharp commentary on the lives of a group of elite and not so elite Chinese citizens of over 300 years ago. It is difficult to say more than that the characters drive the narrative and there are over 50 major ones and a couple hundred minor as well.
There are surprising details of a way of life so rarefied that the slightest movement has major repercussions. It is also an uncanny mix of stultifying hierarchy and rules with some details of everyday life that look very modern in outlook even to us today in a modern liberal state. I am looking forward to continuing my study of this work and the many commentaries on it.

[Grozny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Domestic life of chinese aristocracy with all minutiae. Great poetry. Well-developed characters. Complex plot without modern cliches like good-vs-evil or hero-saves-the-world.

[Andre · Rating 1 out of 5]

1) Deutsche Rezension
2) English Review

1) Deutsche Rezension
Ich habe es nicht bis zum Ende dieses Buches geschafft, nicht einmal bis zur Hälfte.
Es hat schon nicht gut angefangen, es ist so, ich kann es nicht ab, wenn Autoren einem Buch Tonnen von Seiten in lateinischen Buchstaben hinzufügen, besonders am Ende. Also habe ich es einfach übersprungen und bin zur wahren Geschichte gekommen. Ich erzähle, dass ich mich nicht gefragt habe, wer Nüwa ist, und jetzt bekomme ich eine Ahnung, warum es auch die Geschichte des Steins genannt wird.
Zugegeben, dass es Mädchen sofort lobt, war ungewöhnlich. Aber das war egal, da ich der Geschichte mit den Feen und dem Daoisten und dem Mönch nicht wirklich folgen konnte. Ich denke, es ist eine Art Vorahnung für die Hauptfigur Bao-Yü.
Außerdem waren auf Seite 25 schon so viele Charaktere, dass ich nicht alle überblicken konnte. Das hat schon so viele Charaktere und so viele Details und Geschichten, dass es Tolkien im Vergleich bescheiden aussehen lässt.
Und ich konnte hier nicht einmal die Zeit verfolgen, erst als diese eine Sklavin wieder auftauchte und als 13 angegeben wurde, wusste ich, dass seit Beginn des Buches 8 Jahre vergangen sein mussten.
Tatsächlich hatte ich Probleme, der Geschichte zu folgen, bis die Drama-Queen Bao-Yü auftauchte, denn dann hatte ich endlich eine Figur, auf die ich mich konzentrieren konnte. Bei den Vorgängern kannte man sie kaum, bevor sie gegen andere ausgetauscht wurden. Und übrigens. Wie reich sind Bao-Yü und seine Familie? Alle Erwähnungen von Drachen oder Phönixen waren schon verdächtig, aber wenn die Fee "nur" eine Schüssel Feentee, einen Eimer Wein, ein paar Sänger, die in magischen Tänzen geschult sind, und 12 Feenlieder vom Traum der großen Frauen Kammer, das war wirklich lächerlich. Und wenn sie sich Sorgen gemacht hat, dass Bao-Yü all diese Gedichte hier herausfindet, keine Sorge, das tut er nicht. Nicht, dass ich ihm das vorwerfe, ich verstehe sie auch nicht. Und sie brauchte einige Zeit, um zu erkennen, dass Bao Yü ein Idiot ist (obwohl das Buch etwas anderes sagt) und einfach offener mit ihm zu sprechen. Keine Ahnung, warum sie dachte, dass dieses arschlange und kryptische Gedicht jemals in den Kopf dieser Drama Queen kommen würde. Und anscheinend war das alles nur ein Traum? Das ist mir wirklich nicht aufgefallen.
Kurz danach, bei ungefähr 15 % dieses Buches, hätte ich dem Autor gesagt: „Entweder schmeißt du mindestens die Hälfte der Leute in diesem Buch raus oder du verbringst viel mehr Zeit mit ihnen, oder das Buch landet im Müll.“ Man verbringt kaum Zeit mit ihnen, bevor er zu jemand anderem wechselt, und das Ergebnis ist, dass ich außer Bao-Yü im Grunde keine Ahnung habe, wer sie als Menschen sind. Kurz darauf war ich völlig verloren. Wer in aller Welt ist Oma Liu? Wo bin ich überhaupt? Wer sind diese Leute?
Ich war größtenteils verloren. Zu viele Charaktere, zu viele Abweichungen, ich konnte der Handlung nicht folgen. Zu viel auf einmal.
Wenn die Geschichte Bao-Yü folgt, wurde sie immer besser und zum Glück ist es einfacher, etablierten Charakteren wie ihm zu folgen, weil ich weiß, was für eine Drama-Queen er ist (er hat gerade damit gedroht, seine Amme rauszuschmeißen, weil sie Tee getrunken hat). Er ist nervig, aber es gibt ein Bild von ihm, mit dem ich die Geschichte verbinden kann.
Und übrigens. Ich habe diesen Roman wegen seiner angeblichen Homoerotik angefangen und war wirklich nicht beeindruckt. Denn die ganze angebliche Homoerotik wird hier eher negativ dargestellt. Dieser Hsüä Pan bleibt nicht einmal einem der Jungs treu, die er fickt, in meinen Augen schlichtweg pädophil. Sogar die beiden früheren Jungen sind anscheinend seine Überbleibsel. Und seltsam, wie der Autor Djin Jung offen sagen lassen kann, wie "Aroma" und Dschung angeblich küssen, Ärsche befummeln und sich gegenseitig ficken würden (alles Teil von Djin Jungs Gossenrede), aber zuvor Bau-Yü's heterosexuellen Traumsex nicht beschreiben konnten. Er erwähnt sogar Arschficken, aber anscheinend nur, wenn es als etwas Negatives bezeichnet oder beschrieben wird. Es gab einen kurzlebigen früheren Charakter, der auf Männer stand, sich dann plötzlich in ein 13/14-jähriges Mädchen verliebte und getötet wurde.
Und wenn es hier so akzeptiert wird, mit einem anderen Jungen zusammen zu sein, wie einige mir gegenüber behauptet haben, kann Djia Jung (Djin Jung?) es auf keinen Fall für eine Erpressung benutzt haben. noch würde der Sklavenjunge Ming-yän so wütend sein, wenn er hörte, dass Bau-Yü in einer Homo-Beziehung sein könnte, bzw. Beschimpft wurde, in einer zu sein. Es ist klar, dass "gute" Jungs das nicht tun.
Sex ist hier generell fragwürdig. Sehen Sie, es scheint Djia Juee nicht wirklich zu stören, dass er dabei war, die Frau/das Mädchen zu vergewaltigen, die/das er angeblich liebte. Zumindest stört es ihn nicht sonderlich, denn selbst die Erpressung scheint für beide Seiten kein großes Problem zu sein. Und anscheinend weder Tod noch Sklaverei. Hier gibt es viele, viele Sklaven. Und in Übereinstimmung mit dem Glauben aus der Zeit des Buches kann man nach dem Blick in den Zauberspiegel eines Daoisten in einer Pfütze von Sperma liegen und deshalb wegen eines Spermaverlustes sterben.
Und was Tjin Dschung hier mit Dschi-neng macht, hat zweifellos einen vergewaltigenden Unterton und er hat weder emotionale Turbulenzen noch Drogen, um hier irgendwelche mindernden Faktoren zu haben. Das Mädchen hat sogar versucht aufzustehen ... nach Qing-Gesetz gilt, was sie hier tut, anscheinend immer noch als Zustimmung.
Noch etwas: Ich bin darauf aufmerksam geworden, weil behauptet wird, Bao-Yü sei bisexuell, und diese Behauptung wird am häufigsten wegen dieser Passage gemacht: "Lass uns das nach dem Schlafengehen miteinander regeln". Diese und die folgende Aussage, dass niemand weiß, wie sie es geregelt haben, ist jedoch so vage, dass man alles hineininterpretieren könnte. Und es ist nicht so, als hätte der Autor zuvor irgendwelche Bedenken gehabt, sich auf Hetero- oder Homosex zu beziehen, also bezweifle ich, dass hier etwas drin ist. Auch die Homoerotik im Allgemeinen ist hier wirklich vage und interpretierbar. Alles, was hier bisher auch nur annähernd homosexuell war, war entweder mit bösen Menschen oder Menschen verbunden, die starben.
Wenigstens war es gut, dass diese Frauen Bao-Yü rügten. Zumindest denke ich, dass die Frauen Bao-Yü rügtenn, aber ich weiß es wirklich nicht genau. Hätte jemand anderes sein können. Das ist für mich das größte Problem dieser Geschichte: Zu viele Charaktere. Es ist schwer, sich daran zu erinnern, wer wer ist, oder sich überhaupt um einen von ihnen zu kümmern.
Und besagter Typ, Tjin Dschung, in den Bao-Yü einigen Leuten zufolge angeblich verliebt ist, stirbt bereits in nicht einmal die Hälfte des Buches. Das Zeug von früher, an dem er starb, war tatsächlich die "Kombination aus einer schweren Prügelstrafe seines Vaters, sexueller Erschöpfung, Trauer und Reue". Das Prügeln habe ich mitbekommen aber das Zeug von früher war die angebliche Erschöpfung? Und wo ist die Trauer und Reue? Habe ich wieder etwas verpasst? Aber das war nicht das Lächerlichste hier, aber kurz darauf müssen es 14 Seiten über die Benennung von Gebäuden und Orten gewesen sein, und generell über einige riesige Gebäude während des Baus. Der Autor verbringt mehr Zeit mit solchen Dingen als mit Charakterisierung und Charakterentwicklung. Kein Wunder, dass der Tod von Menschen selten angesprochen wird. Bau-Yü war mehr verärgert über einen fehlenden Jadestein als über den Tod von Tjin Dschung.
An dieser Stelle habe ich dieses Buch aufgegeben. Ich konnte nicht mehr.

2) English Review
I did not make it to the end of this book, not even through half of it.
It already didn't start well, you see, I can't stand it when authors add tons of pages in roman letters to a book, especially at the end. So I just skipped it and got to the real story. Telling that I didn't ask myself who Nüwa is and now I get an inkling as to why its also called the story of the stone.
Granted, that it praises girls right away. Unusual. But it didn't matter as I couldn't really follow the story with the fairies and the daoist and the monk. I guess its some sort of foreshadowing for the main character Bao-Yü.
Also, at page 25 there had already been so many characters that I couldn't keep track of all of them. This has so many characters and so many details and stories already that it makes Tolkien look modest in comparison.
And I couldn't even keep track of the time here, only when that one slave girl reappeared and was stated to be 13, I knew that 8 years must have passed since the start of the book.
In fact, I had problems following the story until the drama queen Bao-Yü appeared, because then I finally had a character to focus on. With the ones before, you hardly knew them before they were switched out for others. And btw. how rich are Bao-Yü and his family? All the mentions of dragons of phoenixes were already suspicious but when the fairy "only" has a bowl of fairy tee, a bucket of whine, a few singers who are trained in magical dances and 12 fairy songs of the dream of the grand womens' chamber, that was really ridiculous. And if she was worried that Bao-Yü figures out all these poems here, don't worry, he doesn't. Not that I blame him, I don't understand them either. And it took her quite some time to realize that Bao Yü is a moron (despite the book saying otherwise) and just speak more frankly with him. No idea why she thought that ass long and cryptic poem would ever get into that drama queen's head. And apparently all of this was a dream? That was really not noticeable to me.
Shortly after this, at about 15% of this book, I would have told the author: "Either you throw out at least half of the people in this or you spend way more time on them or the book lands in the bin." You barely spend any time with them before he switches to someone else and the result is that except for Bao-Yü I basically have no idea who any of them are as people. Shortly afterwards I was completely lost. Who on earth is Grandma Liu? Where am I even? Who are these people?
I was mostly lost. Too many characters, too many deviations, I could not follow the plot. Too much at once.
When the story follows Bao-Yü it was getting better and thankfully its easier to follow established characters like him because I know what a drama queen he is (he just threatened to throw out his wet nurse because she drank tea). He is annoying but there is an image of him I can connect the story to.
And btw. I started this novel because of its alleged homoeroticism and I was really not impressed. Because all the alleged homoeroticism is rather negatively portrayed here. This Hsüä Pan doesn't even stay faithful to any of the boys he fucks, plain pedophile in my eyes. Even the two prior boys are apparently his leftovers. And odd how the author can openly have Djin Jung state how "Scent" and Dschung allegedly kissed, funndled asses and would fuck each other (all part of Djin Jung's shit talk) but earlier could not describe Bau-Yü's straight dream sex. He even mentions anal sex, but apparently only when it is referred to or described as something negative. There was a short-lived prior character that was into men, then suddenly fell in love with 13/14 year old girl and was killed.
And if being with another boy is so accepted here as some have claimed to me, there is no way Djia Jung (Djin Jung?) could have used it for basically black mail. nor would slave boy Ming-yän be so furious when he heard Bau-Yü might be in a homo relationship, respectively smeared to be in one. It is clear that "good" boys don't do that.
Sex is in general questionable here. You see, it doesn't actually seem to bother Djia Juee that he was about to rape the woman/girl he allegedly loved. At least it doesn't bother him much as not even the blackmail seems to be that much of a deal for either party. And apparently neither is death or slavery. There are lots and lots of slaves here. And in accordance with believes of the time of the book, you can lay in a puddle of semen after looking into the magic mirror of a daoist, and therefore die, because of semen loss.
And what Tjin Dschung does here to Dschi-neng has some undoubtly rapey undertones and he has neither emotional turmoil nor drugs to have any sort of mediatic factors here. The girl even tried to get up... granted under Qing law, what she does here still counts as consent apparently.
One more thing: I became aware of this because of the claim that Bao-Yü is bisexual and that claim is most often made because of this passage: "lets settle this with each other after going to bed". However, this and the following statement that no one knows how they settled it, is so vague that you could interpret anything into it. And its not as if the author had any qualms to referring to hetero or homo sex before, so I doubt there is anything here. Even the homoeroticism in general is really vague here and up to interpretation. Anything remotely homosexual here so far was either connected with bad people or people who died.
At least it was good that these women were throwing shade at Bao-Yü. At least I think the women were currently throwing shade at Bao-Yü but I really don't know for sure. Could have been someone else. This is the biggest problem with this story for me: Too many characters. Hard to remember who is who or even care about any of them.
And said guy, Tjin Dschung, whom Bao-Yü is allegedly in love with according to some people, is dying already and not even half of the book. That stuff from before that he died of actually was the "combination of a severe beating administered by his father, sexual exhaustion, grief and remorse". The beating I noticed but that stuff from before was the alleged exhaustion? And where is the grief and remorse? Did I miss something again? But that wasn't the most ridiculous thing here, but shortly after there there must have been 14 pages on naming buildings and places, and generally going through some huge buildings during construction. The author spends more time on stuff like this than characterization and character development. No wonder the death of people is rarely touched upon. Bau-Yü was more upset about a missing a jade stone than Tjin Dschung dying.
At this point I gave up on this book. I could not care anymore.

[Caroline Weber · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like reading a Chinese George Eliot. Even in translation, I feel it gives me a sense of the lifestyles and social and economic relations that swirled around the wealthy families of the mid-1700s in China.

It's a big commitment to read all three volumes - weighing in at 500-600 pages each - but I am going to give it a try.

But you could stop at the first one, if you prefer. :)

[Лев 1810 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tác phẩm này nếu chỉ đọc suông mà không tìm hiểu từng câu thơ, từng cảnh tiệc, từng cái tên thì đúng chỉ là một câu chuyện phiếm đầy việc hão huyền, mấy thứ nhân duyên phù phiếm, chỉ là câu chuyện của một hòn đá mà thôi. Nhưng cũng không dưng mà " Tào Tuyết Cần mười năm đọc bộ sách này..., và đề một bài thơ:
Đừng cho tác giả là ngây,
Ai hay ý vị chứa đầy ở trong?"

[sabisteb aka callisto · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Dream of red Mansions (Deutsch: Der Traum der Roten Kammern) ist einer der vier großen Chinesischen Klassiker. Man könnte sagen, es handelt sich um die chinesischen Buddenbrooks, nur schaffte es Thomas Mann seine reiche Familie in einem Band zu ruinieren, der Autor, oder besser, die Autoren dieses Romans, brauchen dafür drei Bände.
Das Buch erschien 1791, das erste Mal gedruckt, kursierte aber vorher schon indiversen Ausgaben wohl unter der Hand. Die ersten 80 Kapitel wurden von Cao Xueqin geschrieben. Cao lebte in großer Armut in einem pekinger Außenbzirk und hielt sich mit dem Verkauf von Bildern mehr schlecht als Recht über Wasser. Er starb schließlich ca. 1763 und ließ seinen Mamutroman unvollendet. Gao E, der Herausgeber der ersten und Zweiten Auflage und seine Geschäftspartner Cheng Weiyuan fügten dem Roman weitere 40 Kapitel hinzu. Die Verleger behaupteten , dass Cao Drafts der Geschichte hinterließ und sie Zugang zu diesen hätten, ob sich die Verleger tatsächlich an seine Entwürfe hielten ist wohl unbekannt und man zweifelt es in der modernen redology heute an.
Ja redology, das ist die Wissenschaft von und über „A dream of red Mansions“. In China gibt es Gelehrte, die nichts anderes machen, als ihr Leben lang dieses Werk zu erforschen. Und zu erforschen gibt es da genug! Ca. 40 Hauptcharaktere die teils sehr ähnlich oder gleich heißen, dazu noch ein paar Hundert Nebenfiguren, die teils einfach nur mal erwähnt werden, so als Staffage.
Mao mochte diese Geschichte wohl auch, denn sie zeigt den Niedergang einer gierigen, feudalistischen Gesellschaft. Aber sein wir ehrlich, Bücher werden nicht zum Klassiker, weil die politische Riege sie gut findet. Geschichten werden zum Klassiker, weil sie das Publikum unterhalten und so zeitlos sind dass sich jede neue Generation immer wieder in ihnen erkennt, ihre aktuellen Probleme adressiert sieht und etwas aus ihnen für sich lernen kann.
Als Europäerin lese ich dieses Buch natürlich anders als die Chinesen. Ich weiß fast nichts über die Politik und die Geschichte des Chinas, die in diesem Buch erzählt wird. Für mich schwingt da sehr viel viktorianisches England mit, die Dekadenz des Adels, der abgeschlossen in seinem Schloss wohnt, das Leben genießt, in Schönheit schwelgt, während vor den Toren das Volk verhungert und in den Fabriken zugrunde geht. Ein wenig Tolkien, ein wenig Dickens, ja, so mutet das Buch teilweise auch an.

Worum geht es in diesem ersten Band, der die ersten 40 Kapitel, als das eigentliche Original von Cao Xueqin umfasst? Es ist die Geschichte der superreichen, stinkreichen, dekadenten Großfamilie Jia. Sie leben auf einem riesigen Areal, mit vielen Höfen und Häusern und Gärten, abgeschlossen von der eigentlichen Welt in einem kleinen Paradies ganz für sich allein. Mehrere Generationen leben unter einem Dach. Die Chefin ist die Oma des Klans, danach kommen noch diverse Kinder und Enkel und Cousinen und Tanten, die alle ihre Aufgaben in dieser Familie haben, die einer kleinen eigenen Stadt gleicht. Man bekommt Lohn für seine Arbeit (oder ein bedingungsloses Grundeinkommen, wenn man halt doch nicht wirklich arbeitet).
Hauptsächlich jedoch geht es um die jüngste Generation, allen voran Pao-yu, der einzige noch lebende Sohn des Sohnes der mächtigen Oma. Pao-yu ist im ersten Band ein Teenager. 13 oder 14 Jahre alt. Intelligent, gebildet und verspielt. Er ist lieber mit Mädchen zusammen, liest und dichtet, als sich wie ein echter Kerl zu verhalten. Er liebt seine hysterische, sehr empfindsame Cousine Tai-yu, die als Weise in den Haushalt aufgenommen wurde. Leider hat Tai-yu TBC, was keinem der Beteiligten so wirklich klar ist. Auch Tai-yu ist sehr intelligent, belesen, kann wunderbare Gedichte verfassen, ist aber ehrlich gesagt, eine hysterische Ziege, die wegen jeder Kleinigkeit rumheult und gleich eingeschnappt ist. Bei ihr muss man jedes Wort auf die Goldwaage legen.
Dann gibt es noch Pao-chai, die vom Schicksal angeblich zu Pao-Yus Frau bestimmt wurde. Sie ist auch intelligent, belesen, aber eben nicht Tai-yu.
Ehrlich gesagt, passiert in 600 Seite nichts, oder nicht viel. Wunderbar beschrieben wird das dekadente Leben der chinesischen Aristokratie zur Zeit des Autors. Ein Leben wie im Märchen. Die Kinder leben in einem kleinen Park, jeder hat seinen eigenen Pavillon und Dienerschaft, keine nervigen Eltern. Man trifft sich zum Dichten, zum Bootsfahren oder begräbt rituell die Frühlingsblüten, damit sie nicht verrotten. Das Leben, das hier beschrieben wird, erinnert stark an die Elbenreiche der europäischen Fantasy um Tolkien und Konsorten. Das Leben der Erwachsenen das Geschildert wird, wie Pao-yu von seinem Vater teils wegen unmännlichen Verhaltens mehrfach fast zu Tode geprügelt wird, erinnert stark an das viktorianische England und seine Eliten und deren Verhaltensweisen.
Man versinkt in dieser Geschichte. Alles ist wunderbar Plastisch beschrieben. Bunt, lebendig, faszinierend, aber es passiert halt nichts. Man wird älter, hat seinen Spaß, isst, trinkt, dichtet, macht Ausflüge, besucht Verwandte in anderen Pavillons oder Höfen. Ein Untergang oder Niedergang ist noch nicht in Sicht.

[Laura Steinert · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wish I could be nice, but this was really a slog. I drug myself through it.

[Song Ngu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Xem phim thấy họ làm giống truyện

[Jacob · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thanks to the thrift stores of Silver Spring, MD for selling a full set of cloth bound first editions for a song. Definitely superior to the Penguin translation, too.

[Brian Sullivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful translation for an Eglish speaker wanting to feel a sense of past China.

[Linh Nguyễn Trần]

22h19’ Sun 8th Dec/ 2024
28th Feb/2025: Ghi chú thêm vào chỗ review này - Chưa biết đánh cho mấy sao nữa :)) Muốn đánh 5 sao vì nội dung phải gọi là vĩ đại luôn, nhưng không đánh 5 sao đc vì không thật sự thích tác phẩm đến vậy (có thể vì chưa hiểu nhiều nên không thích đến độ 5 sao). Muốn đánh 4 sao nhưng văn phong lai láng trừu tượng với một tác phẩm đồ sộ như vậy thì tui thấy không xứng :)) Phong cách viết tui thấy, quá sáng tạo :)) Có lẽ ending cũng chẳng có gì bất ngờ đâu nhưng từng chương hồi từng lời văn ý tứ, sao mà sâu xa mà nó cũng gần gũi sao á :)) Đọc bản dịch tiếng Việt mà thiệt nhiều khi không hiểu lắm :)) Mấy đoạn thơ là tui mạn phép bỏ qua luôn (tại có ráng lắm thì chỉ càng làm nhức đầu thêm chứ thấm thì không là bao nhiêu) :))) Đợi đọc một vài cuốn khác rồi quay trở lại Hồng Lâu Mộng sau :))

Đọc này nhớ vẽ phả hệ :)))

[Bones]

A special friend told me this was "THE' classic in Chinese literature. My local library has it. According to the book jacket it is a 'classic novel (an erotic tale of love, sex and passion) is a masterpiece of realism takes its background the decline of several related big families...' It is a book about political struggle, a political-historical novel.

It has remained popular for over 200 years!

What she didn't tell me, though, was that it is in 3 volumes, each with 40 chapters. Fortunately, the Library has all 120 chapters. I'd hate to start it and not be able to finish it.

[George]

Julie is reading this one... again. After noting references to it in many of the Chinese dramas we've watched lately, I get the impression this book has some of the weight in China that Gone With the Wind has here.

Lucky for me, there is this full English translation. I like Julie's Chinese version better though. It has wonderful illustrations.

[Alys · Rating 5 out of 5]

Considered to be one of the best translations (I also have the Chinese language versions). There are a few misspellings (eg. "wistaria"), but these do not lessen the readability. This comment is for the first edition, hardback, slip-cased edition, published by the Foreign Language Press, Peking, 1978. It uses alternate romanizations (Wade-Giles): Tsao Hsueh-Chin and Kao Ngo, illustrated by Tai Tun-Pang.

[Melanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of those Chinese classics I've always wanted to read - a beautiful, sprawling epic, with characters so wonderfully vibrant that you can't bear to put the book down. Even though it's long it's well worth the time invested. There's a lovely sense of impending tragedy, which is to be expected given its themes of the impermanence (and corruption) of beauty, which I'm sure will be expanded on in the other two volumes. Can't wait to start Volume 2!

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have now read the first of three books, but find that I am just on chapter 41 of 120 chapters now, a very long book simply broken up into three pieces by the publisher. There is lots to like here, and I will write more later. Likely I will defer reading the rest for a while.

[Justinia · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the thirteen doomed young ladies down...can't wait to see who's next. Beautiful, rich language.