《亚洲文化》第 41 期 目 录 CONTENTS Asian Culture No. 41 Articles／论文 “Ci poetry is like a concubine.” Liu Bannong’s Ethical and Transcultural Approach to Folk Songs Translation César GUARDE-PAZ 1 古二德 瑟沙 “词像小老婆”： 刘半农对歌谣翻译的道德与跨文化取径 Zheng Xiaoqiong’s Poetry and Chinese Factories: a Mirror of Uneven Development Giusi TAMBURELLO 23 朱 西 郑小琼的诗与中国工厂：不平衡发展的一面镜子 福建一个家族的历史——海外贸易与迁徙 The History of a Fujian Clan— Overseas Trade and Migration 苏尔梦与柯兰合著； 许惇纯译自法文原著 36 Claudine Salmon and Paola Calanca (in French), translated into Chinese by Xu Dunchun 槟榔屿开埠与华人、锡矿与物产的流动 吴龙云 The Founding of the Penang Port and the Flow of Chinese Migrants, Tin and Native Produce GOH Leng Hoon Innovation and Transformation: Peranakan Chinese Literatures/Publications in Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore Leo SURYADINATA 76 92 廖建裕 创新与转变——印尼、马来西亚和新加坡 土生华人的文学创作／出版物 i WANG Bing 王 兵 100 温任平与现代散文的传播 谢川成 113 Woon Swee Tin and the Promulgation of Modern Chinese Prose CHIAH Seng Cultural Space and Elite Network in Early Singapore: On the Four Talents of Sin Chew 论早期新加坡的文化空间与精英网络—— 以星洲四才子为例 Book Review／书评 探讨与弘扬儒学的现代价值—— 读陈荣照先生《儒学与现代社会论集》 Exploring and Promoting the Relevance of Confucianism in Modern Society: A Review of Essays on Confucianism and Modern Society by Tan Eng Chaw ii 蔡方鹿 冯 欢 Cai Fanglu Feng Huan 127 ASIAN CULTURE 41  DECEMBER 2017 “Ci poetry is like a concubine.” Liu Bannong’s Ethical and Transcultural Approach to Folk Songs Translation César Guarde-Paz* “It is becoming more and more obvious to me that poetry is the common property of all mankind and that it is manifest everywhere and in all ages in hundreds and hundreds of people.” – J. W. von Goethe.1 Introduction Liu Fu 劉復, courtesy name Bannong 半儂 –later Bannong 半農 once he was established in Beijing, a pun with his pen name Qu’an 曲庵 since Qu is “half” (ban 半) of the character nong 農–, was born the first of three children to Liu Baoshan 劉寶珊 (1870-1915) and Miss Jiang 蒋氏 (d. 1911?) on May 27, 1891, in Jiangyin 江陰, Jiangshu 江蘇. 2 Following his father’s footsteps, who had established the Hanmolin Elementary School 翰墨林小學 in his hometown, Liu Bannon had been a gifted student since his early years, a feature that may explain his capacity to succeed in different intellectual fields. In 1911, some months after marrying Zhu Hui 朱慧, he left his hometown to join the Xinhai Revolution in Qingjiang 清江, but due to his discontentment with its violence he returned to Jiangyin and, together with his brother Liu Tianhua 劉天華 (1895-1932), left the next year for Shanghai, a city that will be his final entreé to Beijing and the “New wave” (xinchao 新潮) intelligentsia represented by the journal Xin qingnian 新青年.3 During this time, Liu Bannong produced an important number of translations, which were published in the most relevant journals of the Shanghai literary scene and, after summer of 1917, also in the Beijing based Xin qingnian,4 where he started as an essayist. It was its editor Chen Duxiu 陳獨秀 (1879-1942) who invited him to join Beijing University on October, teaching and researching, among other subjects, Vernacular Literature (xiaoshuo 小說) in the Department of Humanities and National Literature (wenke guowen men 文科國文門 ). 5 At this time, Liu Bannong also coupled with Qian Xuantong 錢 玄 同 (1887-1939) and others to attack the “conservatives,” who were represented by the translator Lin Shu 林紓 (1852-1924).6 In February, 1920, probably because of his lack of an academic degree which caused some tensions with his colleagues,7 he left with his family as a post-graduate student, visiting London University, where he studied Linguistics, and finally establishing himself in Paris in the summer of 1921. Besides completing his Ph.D. on Chinese experimental phonetics, which he obtained in 1 March 17, 1925, Liu conducted extensive research on the Dunhuang 敦煌 manuscripts from the Pelliot collection and collected and translated poems, French novels and folk songs, the latter becoming increasingly important to him. When conducting research on Chinese dialects and folk songs in the former province of Suiyan 綏遠, he developed jaundice and had to return to Beijing, where he finally passed away on July 14, 1934.8 The social role of literary translation as “realism” Liu’s relationship with the May Fourth Movement shaped not only his notions of modern versus traditional, but also his understanding of translation and his taste for literature. Chinese translations were already popular due to the success of Lin Shu9 who, not knowing any foreign language, had to rely on collaborators to render their oral translations into classical Chinese. On the other hand, the May Fourth Movement devotees approached translation from an empirical point of view, stressing accuracy and criticizing Lin Shu for translating Western vernacular speech into an anachronistic classical Chinese. Liu Bannong will soon become one of them. However, at the beginning of his own career as a novelist and translator, Liu shared pages with Lin Shu in different journals, employing both vernacular and classical Chinese. For example, between 1913 and 1914 he published his short stories (possibly unidentified translations) “Jiafa” 假髮 (Fake Hair) and “Hei xingnang” 黑行囊 (The Black Bag),10 which were followed by Lin’s “Luosha cifeng” 羅剎雌風 (A Russian Intrigue) and “Qing tie” 情鐵 (The Iron Lover) in the same issues.11 Also in 1914 he published “Lundun zhi zhisi” 倫敦之質肆 (The London Pawnshop), a social novelette in vernacular language followed by a postscript in classical Chinese,12 as he did with his translation of Tolstoy’s historical novel, “What for?” (“За что?”).13 Although these early works can only provide us with clues to dissect Liu’s development, they also show, once identified, that Liu did not always pay attention to literal translation before his contact with the Beijing intelligentsia. For example, the aforementioned story, “Lundun zhi zhisi,” which has been considered an original work,14 is in fact an abridgement of Charles Dickens’ sketch “The Pawnbroker’s Shop” (1835). The original story contained 2.961 words, whereas Liu’s adaptation contains only 490, with substantial parts and whole paragraphs removed. Liu also indulged himself in the pleasures of classical Chinese, which included stories such as the detective novelette “Qi shou” 七首 (The Seven Heads) –modeled after Lin’s translations of detective stories–;15 “Yong er gui” 詠而歸 (Returning Home Singing); “Fengzeng yiyuan” 奉贈一圓 (The One Dollar Gift), a translation of Franklin Conger’s “The Story of Daniel Webster and his two fees;” or the humorous “Fuermosi da shibai” 福爾摩斯大失敗 (The Great Defeat of Holmes),16 Liu’s tale of Sherlock Holmes’ cases in Shanghai. From mere adaptations or abridgements, Liu is now more concerned with literality, to such an extent that he includes the original foreign names of persons and places and starts giving the original author’s name and nationality. Liu’s experiments led him to translate four prose poems by Ivan Turgenev, published in summer of 1915 in classical Chinese because “Mr. Turgenev’s words are a mastery of classicism and strength” 杜 氏 文 以 古 健 勝 . 17 Both Turgenev’s poetry and subsequent collaborations in different journals, even in Xin qingnian, corroborate Hockx theory regarding the 2 importance of “meaning translation” (yiyi 意譯) or paraphrase for Liu and his search for familiar expressions and phrases “that roughly corresponded with the meaning of the English without offending established Chinese cultural and linguistic conventions.”18 Sometimes these “cultural conventions” also included transcultural references to religion in general and Christianity in particular, which Liu avoided sometimes,19 for example, censoring the line “It seemed like the parting hour of a good Christian smiling on the sins and sorrows of the world, and giving, in the serenity of his decline, an assurance that he will rise again in glory” from his translation of Irving’s “The Pride of the Village.”20 This “meaning translation” employed by Liu in his early works was soon to be applied to his new Beijing translations of poetry and songs. For example, he translated the national anthem of France into English and Chinese,21 focusing on the meaning of the text (xi he wenyi 細核文義) for the English version but, when discussing the Chinese version, Liu considered the Chinese four-character poetry (si yan gushi 四言古詩) too obscure for the average reader to understand, and both languages, Chinese and French, too different to create a literal translation: 惟華法文字。相去絕遠。又為音韻所限。雖力求不失原義。終不能如 Paraphrase 之逐句符合也。此不獨華文為然。即英法二國。文字本屬同源。字 義相同者。十居三四。而對譯詩歌。亦往往為切音 Syllables 叶韻 Rhyme 詩體 Poetic Forms 空間 Hiatus 諸端所限。不能盡符原意。故 Paraphrase 之法尚焉。 惜吾國譯界。尚無此成例也。 But written Chinese and French are mutually different and far apart, and they are also limited by phonology. Even if I try my best not to lose the original meaning, at the end it is not possible to conform it to a verbatim paraphrase. This is not only true for the Chinese language, but also for England and France, since both countries have languages with common roots, but the meaning of their words is only similar three or four times out of ten and, regarding the translation of songs, it is also limited by syllables, rhyme, poetic forms, and hiatus, so the original meaning cannot be conformed at all. So how about the method of paraphrase? Sadly, the translation sphere of my country has no precedent.22 This is not entirely true, since Lin Shu was doing second hand translations from the paraphrasing of his collaborators.23 But for a purist like Liu, who was increasingly concerned with the accuracy of his work, poetry was probably the only literary realm where his ideal could not be achieved. Only two months after his “innovative” proposal, he wrote a response to the new “literary reform” (wenxue gailiang 文學改良) of Hu Shi published in Xin qingnian, introducing two important concepts: firstly, and following the eighth point elaborated by Hu Shi, 24 literature should encompass all genres, with no distinction between classical and popular literature. Secondly, poetry should free itself from the restrictions of rhyme, à la mode of England and its poetic prose, instead of following the French “strict commandments” (jielü ji yan 戒律極嚴) for poetry.25 This was reinforced in his essay, “Innovation in the Spirit of Poetry and Novel,”26 where he proposes, paraphrasing Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) and Henry van Dyke (1852-1933), two 3 important regulations for literature: firstly, “realism” or “truism” from ancient Chinese poetry should be recovered, against modern “hypocrite literature” (xuwei wenxue 虛偽文學) that traces its origins back to the canonical imposition of Confucius through his biased selection of poetry, its result being the textus receptus of the Shijing 詩經. Thus, poetical reform means a return to the ancient forms of poetry (fu jiu 復舊) stolen from us by Confucius, “the greatest criminal of Chinese literature” 中國文學上最大的罪人. This will also be valid for any other form of literature: the writer should “express his ideas relying on reality, self-creating an ideal world” 根 據真理立言，自造一理想世界 and “every world envisioned in this way should be described with a detailed image true to life” 各就所見的世界，為繪一維妙維肖之小影. Secondly, literature has an important social role different from the commercial slogans shared by journals, whose catchphrases are used by commercial presses to seduce people. They are examples of “hypocrite literature” that should be fought against with “realism” or “truism” as a means to create a transformative literature: 他就不知不覺與虛偽道德互相推波助瀾，造出個不可收捨的虛偽社會來。 [The hypocrite feelings] and the hypocrite morals unconsciously aggravate each other, creating a hypocrite society that cannot be rectified. This particular approach to literature as an instrument of social reform was already present in his translations, which present us with a Liu Bannong deeply concerned with the problems of his time and the importance of literature to reform society: 古來英雄若亞力山大拿破崙之輩。幾曾帶得寸土去耶。此托氏『此何故耶』 之所由作。而亦亞爾平那之所大惑不解者也。嗚呼。天下本無事。庸人自擾之。 吾謂世之英雄豪傑。舉全世而宗拜之者。皆庸人之尤者也。不然。何若輩一出。 天下逐多事耶。托氏此篇。其殆有芻狗萬物之思想。蘊蓄於胸而不能自已。乃 借兒女之口脗。發為搔首問天之辭。托氏之目光四射矣。 又余初擬抽取全篇大意。用『故國淚』三字為篇名。 Ancient heroes since Antiquity were like Alexander I and Napoleon: when in charge they took small lands as they went. This “What for?” by Mr. Tolstoy was composed because of this, and it is also Albina’s endless confusion. Alas! Even if the world is originally fine, the common people will disturb it. I should say that it is a wrongdoing of the common people that the brave heroes of this time are being celebrated by the whole world. Otherwise, how would they keep provoking turmoil as they appear? This shortstory by Mr. Tolstoy probably had the idea of [using] the world as a grass dog, which remains concealed in his chest but, unable to restrain it, he used the words of this young lady to express his perplexity. Mr. Tolstoy had a very acute sight. Besides this, I first planned to draw out the general idea of the whole story and use as its title “Tears for the Motherland.”27 4 And also: 余觀今日社會。心最毒。手最辣。而貌最倨者。官吏而外。厥維質夥。曩曾 於演說報著論痛斥之。觀者頗為動容。今讀迭氏之文。雖僅寥寥五百餘言。已 將質夥之醜態。描摩盡致。[…]自有金錢。而世界之人品。逐日以墮落。故欲 求真平等。欲真道德發現。非先發金錢不可。 When I look upon today’s society, hearts are cruel, hands are ruthless and attitudes are arrogant. Besides the office holders, there are also pawnbrokers. Formerly, this was bitterly attacked by those who deliver such speeches, rather moving those who listened. Reading today these words by Dickens, although there are barely five hundred words, it is enough to scrape the disgraceful attitude of pawnbrokers. [...] For ownership of money makes the character of the world more and more decadent. Therefore if we should strive for real equality and we wish that real morality appears, money should not be first.28 Realism in translation was a reflection of realism in society: being true to the original text just as the original author had been true to reality. A secondary aspect of the pedagogical purpose of translation was involved in the development of foreign language programs, as Liu recalls from a conversation with Shen Yinmo and Li Shuhua 李書華 (1890-1979): if translations were a verbatim transposition of the source text into another language, students could easily use a facingpages translation to improve their vocabulary.29 Liu was especially worried with the issue of translating poetry, where this vis–à–vis relationship between the original and the translation could hardly be achieved, since a source-oriented approach would have to overcome the hindrance of rhyme: 我們的基本方法，自然是直譯。因是直譯，所以我們不但要譯出它的意思， 還要儘力的把原文中語言的方式保留着；又因直譯（Literal translation）並不 就是字譯（transliteration），所以一方面還要顧着譯文中能否文從字順，能否合 於語言的自然。[…] 又在本國時，也聽見人說： 『譯外國時，最好要把它的聲 調也譯出。』這真叫我模糊了！[…] 據我想，聲調是絕對不能遷移的東西：它 不但是一種語言所專有，而且是一種方言所專有。 Our basic methodology is of course literal translation. Because of this literal translation, we should not only translate its meaning, but also try our best to preserve the style of the original text; also, because literal translation is not just transliteration, it is also necessary to take into consideration whether the translated text can be readable and fluent, whether it can conform to a natural language. [...] also when I was in that country [England], I heard some people say: “When translating foreign [poetry], it is best to also translate the intonation.” That really had me puzzled! [...] From my point of view, intonation is something that cannot be shifted [from one language to another] at all; it is not only something exclusive of a given language, but also exclusive of a given topolect.30 5 Liu understood that Western theories of literal translation, inclusively applied to Western poetry, could be employed in Western works, as Alexander Pope did with his renowned translation of Homer, but they were unfeasible when conducting Chinese translations of poetry given the phonetic differences between both languages. It is not difficult to see the curious relationship between the translator and the translatee that emerges from these principles: because the translator has the additional obligation of providing a literal yet meaningful translation faithful to the original literary form employed by the translatee, the latter should prefer a less specific literary form, giving up sophistication for simplicity and clarity. In other words, since translation should be understood as a literal transcription of the text in a different language, and because rhymed poetry and complex meter cannot achieve the aim of this notion of translation theory without giving up form, the translatee should consider his work ex ante facto and provide a suitable platform for the translator to achieve his task. Paraphrasing Richard Grandy’s description of the purpose of translation,31 we may say that Liu was advocating a writing which is to enable the translatee to make the best possible predictions and to offer the best possible explanations of the behavior of the translator. This results in the advocacy of a more unconstrained form of poetry which happens to agree with the principles of the New Literature movement. The search for a more natural articulation of poetical forms led Liu to focus his interest in the songs of the common people, an archetype of unrestrained, transcultural poetry. But, why did Liu advocate the “return to the ancient”32 in order to create a “poetic reform?” In order to understand this, we should look at his increasing interest in folk songs. Folk songs as pure literature After 1917 and during his hiatus in Europe, Liu grew an interest in folk songs and literature and disengaged himself from most sophisticated literature. He started to compile Chinese folk songs as early as 191733 and, after a winter walk with Shen Yinmo 沈尹默 (1883-1971) in 1918,34 he presented an all-encompassing project to Cai Yuanpei 蔡元培 (1868-1940) in order to collect Chinese folk songs. This was conducted under the supervision of the University and its newly created Bureau for Collecting Folk Songs (Geyao zhengjichu 歌謠徵集處) in February, 1918. Their results were published in the journal of the university under the title “Geyao xuan” 歌謠選 (Selections of Folk Songs) between May 20, 1918 and May 22, 1919, and included 148 songs.35 Following Liu’s departure to Europe in early 1920, Beijing University continued their achievements in Chinese folk studies with the creation of the Folk Song Research Society (Geyao yanjiuhui 歌謠研究會) by Shen’s brother, the journal Geyao zhoukan 歌謠周刊 (December 17, 1922 - June 28, 1925), and the Custom Survey Society (Fengsu diaochahui 風俗調查會 ) established in May 24, 1923.36 In Europe, Liu compiled songs from Europe and overseas Chinese with the intention of editing a collection of volumes,37 but his dream was only half-fulfilled with the publication of Wafu ji 瓦釜集 (Compilation of the Clay Pot Instrument) in April, 1926 (a 6 collection of free-verse poems in his native dialect), the first volume of his collection of Western poetry published in 1927, and a catalogue of folk songs in two volumes between 1931 and 1932.38 Liu’s shift towards popular literature was motivated by the idea of universality and purity. Popular stories were “[a]cceptable or pleasing to people in general”39 and, thus, more suitable for education. Probably because its contents were the result of the instinctive knowledge of the people, free and natural, 40 rather than the sophistication of the elite, they could be easily accommodated as moral teachings, portraying “good things” 善事 and “good people” 善人. Liu connected the principles of morality and universality, present in the “people” (min 民), with some aspects from ancient Chinese literature: 我的偏見簡單說來，是愛闊大，不愛纖細；愛樸實，不愛雕琢；愛爽快，不 愛膩滯；愛雋趣的風神，不愛笨頭笨腦的死做。因此，我不愛六朝人的賦而愛 《世說新語》及《洛陽伽藍記》；不愛蘇東坡的策論而愛他的小品；不愛杜甫而 愛李白；不愛李義山而愛李長吉；愛詩不愛詞，因為詞有點『小老婆』氣； （這 是就最大多數的詞說）；愛古體詩及近體絕詩而不愛律詩，尤其不愛排律… Briefly put, my prejudices are: I love wide rather than slender; simplicity rather than artificiality; frankness rather than obscurity; a meaningful literary charm rather than some useless nonsense. Hence, I don’t love the fu from the Six Dynasties but the New Account of the Tales of the World and the Records of the Temples in Luoyang City; not the policy discourses of Su Dongpo but his minor works; not Du Fu but Li Bai; not Li Yishan but Li Changji; I love the shi rather than the ci poetry, because it feels a bit like a “concubine” (for the majority of this style); I love the old styled poetry and the modern line broken poetry rather than regulated verse, I especially dislike long regulated verse... This passage synthesizes Liu’s conception of poetry and, by extension, his translation preferences. The translator is not only a bridge between two cultures, but also a reformer who chooses what stories should be translated and what materials are going to transform society. It is not by chance that he preferred Liu Yiqing’s 劉義慶 (403-444) New Account, which contained vernacular expressions and was despised as “minor talks” (xiaoshuo 小說) by the intellectuals,41 as it was Records of the Temples, which included descriptions of popular dances.42 The same can be said about Su Dongpo, admired by Zhou Zuoren, Hu Shi and Shen Yinmo.43 It was him who, in a conversation with Liu, coined the expression “Ci poetry is like a concubine” 詞像小老婆.44 The poetical form ci, sometimes translated as “lyric meter” or “song lyrics,”45 is a direct descendant of the yuefu 樂府 and the more ancient shi 詩.46 Although it originated “as the lyrics sung to the melodies popular in Sui-T’ang times” and were “dependent upon music” from folk songs, 47 its form was soon “taken up by members of the educated class,” 48 becoming popular in the Song Dynasty. It was different from the shi in many ways: while the shi was based on pingze 平仄 rhyme (distinction between level and deflected tones), the ci followed strict rules, with short lines, and fixed four tones rhyme. 49 The shi and the “old styled poetry” (guti shi 古 7 體詩) did not have a given meter and their syllable number was free. 50 The idea of ci as a concubine of the shi could have been derived from a reading of the Ming poet Yu Yan 俞彥: “Why is the ci called the remains of the shi? After the shi died the ci was done, therefore it is called ‘the remains’” 詞何以名詩餘，詩亡然後詞作，故曰餘也.51 The deprecating character of being the “remains,” together with the notion that ci failed to express any great idea52 and was secondary literature –because it derived from the shi– converted into sophisticated poetry by the elite, explains Shen’s idea of ci as a concubine, that is to say, a secondary wife and an image of immorality. This metaphor could be extended to other forms of poetry, like the sophisticated and obscure fu, blamed likewise for their ambiguous morality, or the poetry by Du Fu and Li Yishan (813858): the former composed regulated verse and the latter engaged in highly dense, political poetry, unlike Li Changji (790-816), a non-canonical poet that became a model for the Imagists at the end of 19th century. But the underlying idea behind this presentation of authors was that the purest form of poetry had been corrupted by the Confucian sophistication. However, it could still be found in the long-forgotten, non-canonical shi poetry, which presented a link with the common people. They were the embodiment of all those virtues advocated by Liu: simplicity, frankness and literary charm. A return to the “old” was not, in Liu’s eyes, a conservative vindication53 but the belief that there were important moral values preserved by the common people. The manifestation of those values was the folk song, the original poetry of the people, to whom he dedicated a “seven syllable curtailed poem in the old style” 七絕舊體詩: 秧針細細似眉稍， 秧田水足如明鏡。 鏡裏眉稍笑語人； 郎唱秧歌與儂聽。 (平平仄仄仄平平) (平平仄仄平平仄) (仄仄平平仄仄平) (平仄平平仄平平) Rice seedlings delicate like eyebrow’s tips, Seedlings fields wholly watered like a bright mirror. On the mirror eyebrow’s tips laugh and talk with people; A man sings rural songs for Nong to hear.54 Without intending to underestimate other aspects of Liu’s literary achievements, his ethical and transcultural approach can be better explored by looking at his translations of folk songs, one of his last projects published in 1927 as Translations of Foreign Folk Songs (Guowai minge yi di yi ce 國外民歌譯第一冊) –the same year he started his Comte School Small Collection55 in order to aid Chinese students of French. This work has been far less studied and all its contents are unidentified poems of which the translator only offers brief and usually worthless bibliographical information. Translations of Foreign Folk Songs When doing research on folk song literature during his Ph.D. period in Paris, Liu received a 8 copy of the Yusi journal, a successful publication which brought together former member of the Xin qingnian. After considering its contents, he asked Zhou Zuoren for permission to submit his translations of folk songs: 我搜集的國外民歌，中間真有不少的好作品。我本想選譯到了相當的程度， 好好排比之後，出一部專書。現在却擬改计划，譯一些發表一些，將來譯多了 再整理。發表的地方，頗想借重《語絲》，不知你要不要把他一腳踢出。但如《歌 謠》裏也要，就只有平半分贓之一法。 我希望囘國之後，處於你們的中間，能使我文學的興趣，多多興奮一些。 The foreign folk songs I have gathered truly contain not few but many good works. Initially, I wanted to edit the translations in a suitable form and, after organizing them, to publish a specialized book. However, I have now changed my plan, publishing them as they get translated, and later when many are translated they can be arranged. As for the place of publication, I would rather like to rely on Yusi; I don’t know whether you would want to publish them at once. But if you also want those in Geyao, the only way would be to divide their spoils equally. I wish that, after returning to my country, by dwelling among you, the spirit of my literary works will burgeon.56 Qian Xuantong’s answer in the same issue57 does not address this issue, but the tone of his response suggest, just like Liu’s request to Zhou, that Liu did not belong to their society at the time.58 This is corroborated by the fact that Liu’s first contribution appeared in the 16th issue, although it was dated January 23, barely one week before his letter to Zhou.59 Although he did not start publishing his translations until the 28th issue, 60 he contributed with essays, letters, poetry and the forewords to his published works. It was not until after April, 1926 that Yusi started to issue regularly Liu’s translations of folk songs. Once the amount of translations was relevant, Liu decided to edit the first volume of a collection together with 21 additional songs, a prologue by Zhou Zuoren and a foreword by himself.61 The book started selling in April, 1927 for five and half jiao 角62 and was reedited two months later after its great success. Although Liu planned to continue editing this collection, publishing thirteen more translations in Yusi, the project was discontinued due to the temporal shut down of the journal by the warlord Zhang Zuolin 張作霖 (1875-1928) in October 24, 1927.63 Although Liu included songs from many countries, most of them were translated from French (see Table 1). Notes were limited but in some cases he introduced explanations at the end of some songs. For example, at the end of “Qiu shandian de ge” 求閃電的歌, Liu writes: （註一）此所謂榖，當指玉蜀黍。 （註二）此猶吾國言五色雲；五六言其多，不必恰為五數六數也。 (Note 1) This so-called grain means corn. 9 (Note 2) Just like in our country we say “clouds of five colors” [to denote auspicious]; five and six mean many, there is no need to render it exactly as the numbers five or six. Table 1. Liu’s Folk songs by language Country / Peoples France England Spain Romania Persia Nepal Kafiristan Cambodia Balochistan Asia Minor Tatars Korea Manchuria Pueblo Indians Chinese immigrants Number of songs 12 2 45 3 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 3 6 5 –– 85 Original language French English French English French French French French French French French French English English English But Liu’s folk publications also reflect the mood of the May Fourth Movement, because despite their claims in the first issue64 the character of Liu’s contributions was not literature for the sake of literature, but in many ways contained ideas that defied the traditional Confucian morality: A total of 35 songs reflect freedom of marriage or stress the role of women in marital relations. For example, in a popular folk song from Kafiristan, “Wei de shi ni ai zhe wo wo ye ai zhe ni” 為的是你愛着我我也愛着你, an unmarried young couple speaks of the hardships their relation may endure: 為的是你愛着我我也愛着你， 此外就儘可以隨便了。 Because you love me and I love you, Anything else, we can do as we please. So does another Romanian couple in “Xiao guniang, ni bu yao nong cuo le” 小姑娘，你不要弄 錯了: Make no mistake, little girl; 10 小姑娘，你不要弄錯了， Do not come to us. Near us there is a great river; You will not be able to cross it. 你不要來挨近我。 我們中間有一條大河， 你是波不過這條河的。 I will turn myself into a fish. And I will cross the river. And I will come to you. 我就變成了一條魚， 我就波過了那個河， 我就挨近了你。 The little girl is confronted with lofty mountains and a cruel mother-in-law, but she overcomes them to be with her fiancé despite the opposition of his family: Cruel mother-in-law, good daughter-in-law, 有的是惡姑，有的是媳婦， We will get on together. 咱們的日子還不是好好的過？ A similar theme occurs in “Wei de shi wo yao shang Bali qu” 為的是我要上巴黎去, Liu’s version of “La chanson des arbres entrelacés,” a well-known tale of tragic love. In the original Gasconian tale a young man travels to Paris to find his beloved one and invites her to his wedding party: “Marguerite, my love, Let’s hug, I beg you. “Marguerite, les miennes amours, Embrassons-nous, je t’en prie. I have to tell you the truth: It is my father who married me. Il faut que je t’(y) dise une vérité: J’(en) ai le mien père qui m’(y) marie. Marguerite, my love, I invite you to the party.” Marguerite , les miennes amours, A la fête je te convie.” In the original French version these six verses are all sung by the young guy, but Liu committed a faux pas when translating them, changing the meaning of the whole story into a girl forced into an arranged marriage: “Marguerite, my lover, Let’s kiss, I beg you. 『馬格哩脫，我的愛人啊， 我們親個嘴罷，我求你。 “I have to tell you the truth, I’ve my lover chosen by my father.” 『我該把真話告訴你： 我有我的愛人，就是我父親替我訂下的。』 “Marguerite, my lover, If there is a feast day, I’ll invite you.” 『馬格哩脫，我的愛人啊， 到了過節的一天我請你。』 11 The differences between both versions are notorious, because by changing the tragica persona, the meaning is changed as well: the original young lad was having an affair with an unmarried lady, Marguerite, whereas he was meant to marry someone else. In Liu’s version, however, Marguerite says she already has a lover that has been chosen by her father. Therefore, they are not only having an affair, but the young womanizer becomes a second victim in a forced marriage. Marguerite declines the invitation but accepts to attend the wedding dance and, after the third “coup du tambourin,” she falls and dies: 你為着愛我你死了， 我也該為着愛你死了罷。 你們該把我的愛人擱在一株松樹下， 把我自己擱在一株榆樹下。 For my love you have died, I should also for your love die. You should place my lover under a pine, Myself, place me under an elm. The former change allows Liu to change the whole outcome of the story. If we read the original French version, the womanizer has seduced a young girl but deserted her to follow an arranged marriage. He shows no apparent concern when he invites her to his wedding. But once the young lady dies for love, he recognizes her devotion and follows her to death. In the afterword both trees grow together and hug each other, showing their mutual love and the young lad’s regret for her death. Liu’s version, however, is in line with other songs he translated, where marriage is seen as an unfair binding contract or even slavery: after being forced to marry someone she doesn’t love, the young lady dies in a party she attends behind her parents’ backs. They are then buried together, and the trees growing on their graves hug each other and kiss, sharing in death a love they could not achieve in life. There are also four more cases of satirical songs contemplating marriage as slavery. For instance, the eight stance of Liu’s collection of Spanish songs, translated from French: 為的是說了一聲『是』 ， 那女孩子就進了禮拜堂了； 為的是說了一聲『是』 ， 她進門時是自由的，出門時就做了囚徒了。 Because she said “yes,” That girl entered the church; Because she said “yes,” 12 When she entered she was free, when she left she was a prisoner. Serious love is also often portrayed as undesirable, both for men and women, as in the Manchurian songs, “Cong zhe keshu shang” 從這顆樹上 and “Yaoshi ni bu yuanyi” 要是你不 願意: 娶一個最貞慧的女人， 把你的心做了個匣子去裝她的影子， 過不到一霎那罷， 你滿心窩兒全給惡爛的思念弄髒了。 Marry the most virtuous woman, Make a box of your heart to store her image, In less than an instant, All your heart will get tarnished by evil rotten thoughts. The second Manchurian song shares the same idea: 要是你不願意你的心 被一個小火燃燒着， 像一個羊肉放在煎盤裏一樣， 你就應該逃避女人的愛 If you don’t want your heart to be burnt by a small fire, just like a piece of sheep meat inside a roasting pan, you should avoid the love of women. Discussions about freedom of marriage and independence of women had been an ongoing topic in literary circles since the beginning of the 20th century, with an important impact in the second decade. Journals published essays and stories about the rights and freedom of young women.65 One of the foundational texts was a free translation of Herbert Spencer’s Social Statics (1851) conducted by the missionary William Edward Macklin (1860-1947) who, assisted by local men of letters, introduced many Western texts to the new Republic of Sun Yat-sen.66 One of the chapters of Spencer’s book, serialized in the Wanguo gongbao 萬國公報67 under the title “Ziyou lun” 自由論 (On Liberty), dealt with the problem of freedom of marriage. 68 Most thinkers related freedom of marriage to freedom of education. For instance, Lin Shu believed that “if we wish to advocate women’s rights, it is necessary to talk about women´s education” 故倡女權， 必講女學,69 while Li Youyuan 李幼沅, mother of the Marxist theorist Hu Sheng 胡繩 (19182000), opined: 13 加以彼國女子。均受教育。學問能力。足以自立。[…] 我國女學。方在萌芽時代。 教育之法亦未完美。青年女子。雖入學校。而能力薄弱。學問幼穉。於自由結婚之說。 尚未得其真解。 Moreover, the girls of these [Western] countries have all received education. Their knowledge and skills are enough for them to support themselves [...]. Women education in our country is just in its infancy, and the procedures of education not yet refined. Young women, although they have entered school, their skills are weak, their knowledge puerile; as for talking about freedom of marriage, they still have not attained such wisdom.70 However, the most radical approach of the revolutionaries saw these issues as opposed to traditional Confucianism and filial piety, which was fiercely slandered in many articles from Xin qingnian and by intellectuals such as Kang Youwei 康有為 (1858-1927).71 Liu’s employment of the folk tradition relates to this idea: that Confucianism was contrary to the universal, common folk culture naturally present in all societies. The role of women in marital or romantic relationship is stressed as well, usually through mildly sarcastic remarks, as in “Verduronnette,” or with acrimony, as in “Aiqing de huanle zhi shi yishi de” 愛情的歡樂只是一時的: 當初我還跟着我父親住一起， 我正急着要結婚。 什麼事都不要做得， 要我做的事找女人 [...] 如今我已找到了一個， 她可害得我發了瘋。 When I was still living with my father, I was urged to marry. Nothing should I do at all, What I should do was to look for a girl [...] Now I have found one, But she is driving me crazy. The husband of Verduronnette suffered from hunger under a shriveled marriage, scavenging from the leftovers like a starving dog, until he finally dies in front of his smiling wife:72 瞧，我的丈夫死了啊， 我也少了個拖累了。 Look, my husband is dead, I have one burden less. 14 In the second song, the chanter tells the story of Sylvie, a young lady who seduces a young lad and then leaves him for another one: 我為着那負心的雪爾維把我所有一切多已犧牲了， 她可是背棄了我另找一個愛人了。 愛情的歡樂只是一時的， 愛情的痛苦可是無窮的。 I sacrificed all I had for that ungrateful Sylvie, But she deserted me and found another lover. The pleasure of love lasts only for a moment, But the pain of love is unlimited. Freedom of marriage and liberation from the restrains of love were just one of the many sides that constituted the roots of the folk tradition. Because love, as defined by Confucianism, was understood as a binding union for the nurture of future generations, there was little place for happiness. Free love is advocated in order to avoid the inexorable pain from such unnatural relationships and, with free love, the unrestrained enjoyment of the moment. This is portrayed in Liu’s translation “Yi ren neng you jitian huo” 一人能有幾天活: 學了歷史有得什麼用？ 那還不是到處一樣的？ 我們還是好好的學喝酒，[...] 只須我輕輕的說聲『喝』 ， 她早已替我斟上一杯子了。 What is the point of learning history? Is it not the same everywhere? It is better if we learn to drink wine, [...] As soon as I gently say “drink,” She quickly serves me a glass. Since life is short, common people should not admire historians, soldiers, or linguists, who waste their time with knowledge and war, but they should “live deep and suck out all the marrow of life,” as Henry David Thoreau famously wrote.73 Conclusion Liu shared with Hu Shi the idea of not avoiding words that were not present in the Classics. He was fond of common expressions that were considered vulgar because they were part of the spoken language. This idea can be traced back to Huang Zunxian’s 黃遵憲 (1848-1905) dictum, “My hand writes following my mouth, how can it be tied by the old” 我手寫我口，古豈能拘 牽,74 which is similar to one of the verses Liu translated: 15 My verses flow inside my veins, Common people... 我的詩句在我血管中流 民眾們75 Liu’s “return to the ancient” is, then, not a plea for classicism, but a reaction against tradition. It is interesting to note that Liu did not see Antiquity as a unitary idea. It was, in fact, an idealistic vision, a Utopia that was corrupted by the hypocrite sophistication of Confucius. Only through the transformative literature of the common people could society move forward and find solutions to the problems created by more than two millennia of pervading Confucian thought. * The author, César Guarde-Paz, is a Professor of Foreign Language and Culture (Spanish) at the College of Foreign Languages, Nankai University (Tianjin, China). Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 16 J. Eckermann, Conversations with Goethe (New York: Ungar, 1964), 94. Cf. Xu Ruiqiu 徐瑞丘, “Liu Bannong zhuanlüe” 劉半農傳略, Xin wenxue shiliao 新文學史料 4 (1985): 195-205, where the author offers the 29th as Liu’s birthday. For biographical materials see Milena Doleželová-Velingerová and Bernd Eberstein (eds.), A Selective Guide to Chinese Literature. 1900-1949 (Leiden: Brill, 1990), vol. 4, 12, note 14. There is also a short biography in German, Martin Schoenian, Leben und Lyrik des Liu Bannong (1891-1934) (M.A. Diss., University of Hamburg, 1994), and in English in Chang-tai Hung, Going to the People (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1985), 33-40, and Michael Hockx, Questions of Style (Boston: Brill, 2003), 158160. For Liu’s literary transition from Shanghai to Beijing see Michel Hockx, “Liu Bannong and the Forms of New Poetry,” Journal of Modern Literature in Chinese 3/2 (2000): 83-117; Zhang Yaojie 張耀杰, Beida jiaoshou 北大教授 (Taibei: Xunwei zixun keji gufen, 2007), 167-169. For a list of works translated by Liu see Tarumoto Teruo 樽本照雄, Shinmatsu Minsho shōsetsu mokuroku 清末民初小説目録 (Ōtsu: Shinmatsu shōsetsu kenkyūkai, 2016), available online at http://shinmatsu.main.jp/. For his French translations and his publications in Xin qingnian, see Guerde 古二德 (César Guarde), “Liu Bannong yi yu ‘Xin qingnian’ zhong ji Faguo duanpian xiaoshuo fanyi yuanzhu bukao” 劉半農譯於《新青年》中及法國短篇小說翻譯原著補考, Shinmatsu shōsetsu kara 清末小説から 115 (October, 2014): 17-22. See, for example, Beijing daxue rikan 北京大學日刊 33 (December 27, 1917): 2, and 63 (February 2, 1918): 2. Liu and Qian Xuantong forged a famous letter under the name of Wang Jingxuan 王敬軒 to provoke the conservatives, which was published in Xin qingnian 4/3 (March 15, 1918): 265-268 with a long reply by Liu in 268-285. See Michael Gibbs Hill, Lin Shu, Inc. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 205-214. See Hung, Going to the People, 35. Ibid., 40; Zhang, Beida jiaoshou, 182. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. Although translation was an old practice that can be traced back to the introduction of Buddhism up until the works of Matteo Ricci and other missionaries, Lin Shu was the defining figure of the time. See, for the translation scene before him, Patrick Hanan, “A Study in Acculturation,” Chinese Literature: Essays, Articles, Reviews 23 (2001): 55-80, and Hockx, Questions of Style, 27-28. As Bannong, in Xiaoshuo yuebao 小說月報 4/4 (August 25, 1913): [37-50], and as Ban, in Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 中華小說界 1/5 (May, 1915): [17-32]. Published in Xiaoshuo yuebao 4/4: [69-85] and Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/5: [77-98]. In Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/8 (August, 1914): [31-32]. Since this story is not credited as a translation, it is possible that that other works by Liu are in fact translations. “Ci he gu ye” 此何故耶, Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/11-12 (November-December, 1914): [67-91 and 43-64]. See Tarumoto, Shinmatsu, 2140. See Liu’s introduction in Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/3 (March, 1914): [32-50]. Published in Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/11 (November, 1914): [25-26], Libailiu 禮 拜 六 29 (December 19, 1914): [37-41] and Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 2/2 (February, 1915): [23-35]. Conger’s tale was published in The Scrap Book 9 (1910): 214-216. More stories in classical Chinese were published in these years, even after starting his collaboration with Chen Duxiu, for example, “Cunzhang nü” 村長女, Xiaoshuo yuebao 8/14 (April 25, 1917): [32-37] and an unidentified translation with Cheng Shewo 成舍我 (1898-1991), “Ditu yu zhu” 地圖與珠, Xiaoshuo hai 3/9 (September 5, 1917): 15-17. Bannong, “Dujinnefu zhi mingzhu” 杜瑾訥夫之名著, Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 2/7 (July, 1915): [7]. For a study of these poems see Hockx, Questions of Style, 162-166. Ibid., 166. For example, see “Cigou” 磁狗, Xin qingnian 2/5 (January, 1917): [33-43]; “Jiaoshang” 交謪, Xiaoshuo yuebao 8/2 (February, 1917): [23-27]; “Xinwen diangao” 新聞電稿, Xiaoshuo yuebao 8/4 (April, 1917): [26-31]. They correspond to the following works: J. E. Muddock, “The China Dog” (see Guerde, “Liu Bannong,” 17); Albert J. Spencer, “The Wrangling Pair” (published in Spencer’s Book of Comic Speeches and Humorous Recitations (New York, 1867)); and William Le Queux, “Confessions of a Lady’s Man.” Only “The Wrangling Pair” was translated into vernacular Chinese. This is explicit in his translation of Victor Hugo’s Claude Gueux (“Keluote Geou” 克洛特格歐, published in 1927 in Faguo duanpian xiaoshuo ji di yi ce 法國短篇小說集第一冊, for which see Guerde, “Liu Bannong,” 22). Cf. his translation of “The China Dog,” where he preserved the reference to the Paradise, explaining it with a note. Bannong, “Musi zhongsheng” 暮寺鐘聲, Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 2/12 (December, 1915): [47-58]. “Lingxia guan biji: Aersasi zhi chongguang; Masai qu” 靈霞館筆記·阿爾薩斯之重光·馬賽曲, Xin qingnian 2/6 (February, 1917): [31-46]. See Guerde, “Liu Bannong,” 17-19, for a full identification of its contents. The French text was probably extracted from H.R. Colet (ed.), Chants et chansons populaires de la France (Garnier: Paris, 1848), vol. 1, 20-23. Italics for the subindexed text in the original as a note to the final paragraph. Liu and Qian, in their forged letter, wrongly criticized Lin’s translation of Ibsen and Shakespeare’s plays for being a prose adaptation. See Tarumoto Teruo, Rin Jo kenkyū ronshū 林紓研究論集 (Ōtsu: Shinmatsu shōsetsu kenkyūkai, 2009), 7-101 and 356-385. Hu Shi, “Wenxue gailiang chuyi” 文學改良芻議, Xin qingnian 2/5 (January, 1917): [21-31]. Hockx, Questions of Style, 172-174. Liu published a number of prose poetry and free verse, for example “Xiaoshi wu shou” 小說五首 and “E” 餓, both in Yusi 語絲 49 (October 19, 1925): 5-6, 17 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 18 and 66 (February 15, 1926): 1-2. “Shi yu xiaoshuo jingshen shang zhi gexin” 詩與小說精神上之革新, Xin qingnian 3/5 (July, 1917): [5-14]. “Ci he gu ye”, Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/12 (December, 1914): [63-64]. “[Using] the world as a grass dog” is a reference to chapter 5 of the Daode jing 道德經, implying the lack of benevolence (bu ren 不仁). “Lundun zhi zhisi,” Zhonghua xiaoshuo jie 1/8 (August, 1914): [32]. Liu Fu, “Kongde xiao congshu juantouyu” 孔德小叢書卷頭語, Yusi 124 (March 25, 1927): 61 (written on March 14). The project, entitled Comte School Small Collection (Kongde xuexiao xiao congshu 孔德學校小叢書), was edited by Beixin shuju 北新書局, but stop in 1927 after two issues: Émile Zola’s “Mao de tiantang” 貓的天堂 (“Le Paradis des Chats,” 1868) and “Shiye” 失業 (“Le chômage,” 1874,”) (Guerde, “Liu Bannong,” 21). Liu Bannong (as Liu Fu), “Guanyu yishi de yidian yijian” 關於譯詩的一點意見, Yusi 139 (July 9, 1926): 1-3. The text is from a letter Liu sent to Zhou Zuoren 周作人 (1885-1967) from London in March, 1921. Cf. his introduction to “Wo xing xue zhong” 我行雪中, Xin qingnian 4/5 (May, 1918): 433. Richard Grandy, “Reference, Meaning, and Belief,” Journal of Philosophy 70 (1973): 442. Another example of “return to the ancient” is Liu´s so-called “invention” of the feminine pronoun ta 她, which was already attested in the dictionary Yupian 玉篇, 3.35.306, edited by Gu Yewang 顧野 王 (518-581). This was noted in Sun Xiqi 孫錫祺 (as Han Bing 寒冰), “Zhe shi Liu Bannong de cuo” 這是劉半農的錯, Xinren 新人 1/1 (1920): 5. The work is mentioned by Liu in “Bianzuan ‘Zhongguo da zidian’ jihua gaiyao” 編纂《中國大字典》計劃概要 (1927, firstly published in Cishu yanjiu 辭書研究 1 (1979): 84). As Liu Fu, Zhongguo suqu zongmu gao 中國俗曲總目稿 (Beijing: Guoli zhongyang yanjiuyuan, 1931), vol. 1, 1. See the prologue in Liu Bannong, Waiguo minge yi di yi ce 外國民歌譯第一冊 (Beijing: Beixin shuju, 1927), 1. Hung, Going to the People, 39. Marja Kaikkonen, “Becoming Literature,” in Anders Pettersson et al. (eds.), Literary History (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2006), vol. 1, 52. See Liu, Waiguo minge, 13-14. Cf. his conference “Faguo liu suyu juli” 法 國 流 俗 語 舉 例 (September 10, 1926), in Bannong zawen di yi ce 半農雜文第一冊 (Beijing: Beiping xingyuntang ┐ ˪ ┐ ˪ shudian, 1934), 290-301, and his early “Haiwai de Zhongguo minge” 海外的中國民歌, Geyao zhoukan 歌謠周刊 25 (September 23, 1923): 1-4. Liu’s Waiguo minge and Zhongguo suqu, cited above. Liu Fu, “Tongsu xiaoshuo zhi jiji jiaoxun yu xiaoji jiaoxun” 通俗小說之積極教訓與消極教訓, Taiping yang 太平洋 1/10 (July 15, 1918): [179-188] (conference pronounced in Beijing University, January 18, 1918). Waiguo minge, 6. Hu Ying, “Records of Anomalies,” in Victor Mair (ed.), The Columbia History of Chinese Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 2013), 551; Daria Berg, “What the Messenger of Souls Has to Say,” in Michael Hockx and Ivo Smits (eds.), Reading East Asian Writing (London: Routledge, 2003), 179. See Xudong Zhang, “A Radical Hermeneutics of Chinese Literary Tradition: On Zhou Zuoren’s Zhongguo xinwenxue de yuanliu,” in Ching-I Tu (ed.), Classics and Interpretations (New Jersey: Transaction Publishers, 2000), 434; Fan Pen Chen, “Ritual Roots of the Theatrical Prohibitions of Late-Imperial China,” Asia Major 20 (2007): 33. Both works were praised by Zhou Zuoren, for example in “Baodugu de chuanshuo” 抱犢固的傳說, Yusi 16 (March 2, 1925): 8 (as Kaiming 開 明); “Yan shi jiaxun” 顏 氏 家訓 , Dagong bao 大公報, April 14, 1934, pagination unknown (collected in Ye du chao 夜讀抄 (Hong Kong: Shiyong shuju, 1966), 107-112). Lu Xun 魯迅 (1881-1936) also recommended the former. See Hockx, Questions of Style, 181-183; Zhu Hangman 朱航滿, Jingshen sumiao 精神素描 (Taibei: Xiuwei zixun keji gufen, 2009), 310. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. Zhou Zuoren, Zhongguo xin wenxue de yuanliu 中國新文學的源流 (Beijing: Beiping renwen shudian, 1934), 40; Shen Yinmo, Shen Yinmo xingshu Su Dongpo shi ce 沈尹默行書蘇東坡詩冊 (Hangzhou: Xinhua shudian, 2006). Liu, Guowai minge, 4. Burton Watson (ed.), The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984), 12; James R. Hightower and Florence Chia-Ying Yeh, Studies in Chinese Poetry (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998). Huang Xuwu 黃勗吾, Shi ci qu de yanjiu 詩詞曲的研究 (Taibei: Hualian chubanshe, 1975), 107113; Florence Chia-Ying Yeh, “Ambiquity and the Female Voice in ‘Hua-chien Songs’,” in Hightower and Yeh, Studies, 119. Yeh, “Ambiquity,” 120; Wai-lim Yip, Chinese Poetry (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976), 414. Watson, Columbia Book, 12. Huang, Shi ci qu, 105-106; Yip, Chinese Poetry, 411-412. Huang, Shi ci qu, 6-7. Liu also published poetry in the jiuti shi 舊體詩 style of the New Literature movement, for example Liu Fu, “Jiuyi shi er shou” 舊體詩二首, Yusi 68 (March 1, 1926): 2. Yu Yan, “Yuanyuan cihua” 爰園詞話, in Tang Guizhang 唐圭璋, Cihua congbian 詞話叢編 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1986), vol. 1, 399. Yeh, “On Hsin Ch’i-chi’s Song Lyrics,” in Hightower and Yeh, Studies, 323-354, 324. Peihua nüshi 裴華女士, “Yang Hanlin Liu Fu ‘fu gu’” 洋翰林劉復‘復古’, Huan zhou 幻洲 1/2 (October, 1926): 11-13. Liu Fu, “Jiuyi shi er shou,” Yusi 68 (March 1, 1926): 2. Nong 儂, meaning also “I,” is a play of words with his name. About this school, modeled after French Positivism and named after its founder Auguste Comte (1798-1857), see Beijing wenshi ziliao jingxuan 北京文史資料精選 (Beijing: Beijing chubanshe, 2006), vol. 1, 203-212. It was created by Cai Yuanpei and other teachers from Beijing University. Most relevant figures of the May Fourth Movement had their children attending Comte School. Liu Fu, “Bali tongxin” 巴黎通信, Yusi 20 (March 13, 1925): 3, dated January 28. See Qian Xuantong, “Xie zai Bannong gei Qiming de xindi houmian” 寫在半農給啓明的信底後 面, ibid.: 3: “I am very pleased to see Bannong’s letter to Qiming [Zhou Zuoren] from January 28, 1925; so Bannong is still the naughty Bannong from five years ago and he doesn’t show the scary appearance of ‘looking stern from distance’” 我看了一九二五年一月二十八日半農給啓明的信， 非常地愉快：原來半農是五年前頑皮憊賴的半農，並沒有『望之儼然』地可怕樣子。The sentence “looking stern from distance” is a reference to one of the three changes of the Confucian scholar, in Lunyu, 19.9/54/24. See the list of members in Lu Xun, “Wo he ‘Yusi’ de shizhong” 我和“語絲”的始終, Mengya 萌芽 19 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 2 (February 1, 1930): 39-50. The foreword to the first issue of Yusi states that this journal was created by a group of friends with common ideas who wish to express their thoughts in its pages (“Fakanci” 發刊詞, Yusi 1 (November 17, 1924): 1). Thus, Liu was not among them, since he did not publish during this period. Cf. Mark Miller, “The Yusi Society,” in Kirk A. Denton and Michel Hockx (eds.), Literary Societies of Republican China (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2008), 193. Miller limits the number of contributions in Yusi to 55, but my personal account reveals 76 publications, including essays, poetry, translations and letters. Liu Fu, “Xu Zhimo xiansheng de erduo” 徐志摩先生的耳朵, Yusi 16 (March 2, 1925): 6-7. He also thanks Zhou Zuoren for sending him the first seven issues of Yusi. There is a short poem in free verse in the next issue (“Kan jing” 看井, Yusi 17 (March 9, 1925): 5-6) but it is dated December 25, 1923. Liu Fu, “Guowai minge yi” 國外民歌譯, Yusi 28 (May 25, 1925): 5-6. These forewords were individually published in Yusi 126 (April 9, 1927): 1-2, and 127 (April 16, 1927): 3-10. See the advertisement in Yusi 4/9 (February 27, 1928): 16. Although Liu stopped his submissions in late August and did not publish anything until December 31, 1927, in the third issue of the new reestablished Yusi he recalls the banning as responsible for his departure at a time when almost all former members had left Beijing. See Zheng Ying 鄭穎, “Xiewu yanzhi” 寫物言志, in Song Rushan 宋如珊 and Wei Meiling 魏美玲, Haixia liang’an huawen wenxue xueshu yantaohui lunwen xuanji 海峽兩 岸 華 文 文學 學 術 研討 會 論文 選 集 (Taibei: Zhongguo xiandai wenxue xuehui chubanshe, 2010), 93, note 4; Zhu Hong 朱洪, Liu Bannong zhuan 劉半農傳 (Beijing: Dongfang chubanshe, 2007), 152-153. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 20 “Fakanci” 發刊詞, Yusi 1 (November 17, 1924): 1. Sian 思安, “Nan nü tongxue yu ziyou lian’ai” 男女同學與自由戀愛, Pingmin 平民 51 (May 14, 1921): 4. W. E. Macklin, “Adventure in China,” Land and Freedom 230 (January-February, 1942): 14. For the influence of Christian missionaries in shaping the ideas of the reformists, see Xiantao Zhang, The Origins of the Modern Chinese Press (New York: Routledge, 2007), 68 ff. Liu Yi, “Confucianism, Christianity, and Religious Freedom,” in Fenggang Yang and Joseph Tamney (eds.), Confucianism and Spiritual Traditions in Modern China and Beyond (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 250, note 8. Malin 馬林 [W.E. Macklin] and Li Yushu 李玉書, “Ziyou lun pian. Di shiyi zhang Lun funü” 自 由論篇 第十一章論婦女, Wanguo gongbao 142 (1900), 9b-10b, a free translation of Chapter 16th, “The Rights of Women.” The complete translation started in the 136th issue, and lasted until the 156th, later to be published as Ziyou lun lue: Ying Sibinsai’er qunxue gongli pian 自由論畧：英斯 賓塞兒羣學公理篇 (Shanghai: Meihua shuguan, 1902). Lin Shu, Hongjiao huajiang lu 紅礁畫槳錄 [H. Rider Haggard’s Beatrice] (Shanghai: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1906), vol. 1, [2]. Cf. Id., Shenüshi zhuan 蛇女士傳 [Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Beyond the City] (Shanghai: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1908), 1-2; and also his poem “Shui wu qing” 水無情, in Minzhong xin yuefu 閩中新樂府 (Fuzhou: Fuzhou keban yinxing, 1897). Li Youyuan 李幼沅, “Ziyou jiehun zhi pinglun” 自由結婚之評論, Nüzi shijie 女子世界 3 (1915): 8. Liu Yanling 劉延陵, “Hunzhi zhi guoqu xianzai weilai” 婚制之過去現在未來, Xin qingnian 3/6 (August 1, 1917): [11-24]; Kang Youwei, Datong shu 大同書 (Shenyang: Liaoning renmin, 1994), 211-225. 72. 73. 74. 75. Original edition illustrated. Henry David Thoreau, Walden, II.16. “Zagan [II]” 雜感, in Huang Zunxian, Renjinglu shicao 人境廬詩草, 1.6a (XXSKQS 1566). Da zhenshi 大真實, 5. Appendix The contents of Waiguo minge are listed in order of appearance. They are followed by the original source used by Liu, and a reference to its first publication in Yusi, hereinafter abbreviated YS. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. Wo de nüer ni yao mai zhi maozi ma? 我的女兒你要買只帽子麼？: “Ma Fille veux-tu un bouquet?,” in Sylvain Trébucq, La chanson populaire et la vie rurale des Pyrénées à la Vendée (Bordeaux, 1912), vol. 1, 42-43. Da zhenshi 大真實: Louis Abel Beffroy de Reigny, “Les Grandes Vérités,” in H.R. Colet, Chants et chansons populaires de la France (Paris, 1848), vol. 2, 122-125 (YS 82 (June 7, 1926): 5-8). Yi ren neng you ji tian huo 一人能有幾天活: Comte Claude-Alexandre de Bonnoval, “Jouissons du temps present,” from “Nous n’avons qu’un temps à vivre,” in ibid., vol. 1, 140-141 (YS 74 (April 12, 1926): 3-4). Verduronnette, in M. V.-F. Verrimst, Rondes et chansons populaires illustrées (Paris, 1886), 129-132. Aiqing de huanle zhi shi yishi de 愛情的歡樂只是一時的: Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, “Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment,” in Colet, vol. 3, 150-151. Wei de shi wo yao shang Bali qu 為的是我要上巴黎去: Feliz Arnaudin and Jean Passy, “La chanson des arbres entrelacés,” Bulletin de la société des parlers de France 3 (November, 1893): 95-98 (YS 79 (May 17, 1926): 4). Bali you yi wei taitai 巴黎有一位太太: “A Paris y a-t-une dame,” in Jérome Bujeaud, Chants et chansons populaires des provinces de l’ouest (Niort, 1895), vol. 2, 354-355 (YS 28 (April 25, 1925): 5; dated November 2, 1925 [sic!]). Yuehan Henuo 約翰赫諾: Gérard de Nerval, “Jean Renaud,” in Bujeaud, 213-214 (YS 28 (April 25, 1925): 5-6; dated November 3, 1925 [sic!]). Shui ba! Shui ba! 睡罷！睡罷！: “Schlof, Kindele schlof” (French “Dors, petit enfant, dors,” in André Alexandre, Chansons populaires d'Alsace (Paris, 1920), unpaginated (YS 89 (July 24, 1926): 8 as “Aersasi de yi ming erge” 阿爾薩斯的一鳴兒歌). Haidao 海盜. British song. Source unknown, probably same as below. Gelinweizhi de yanglaoren 格林維志的養老人: Charles Dibdin, “The Greenwich Pensioner,” source unknown. Xibanya de tuan minge sishiwu shou 西班牙的短民歌四十五首, excerpts from Achille Fouquier, Chants populaires espagnols (Paris, 1882), 109-106 (reversed order followed), 110-111, 113-116, 118-120, 122 and 75-77 (YS 105-107, 109, (November 13-December 11, 1926): 10-15, 13-14, 9-10 and 12-13). Yijing guole sishiwu ge libairi 已經過了四十五個禮拜日: “Le redez-vous,” in Hubert O. Pernot, Anthologie populaire de la Grèce moderne (Paris, 1910), 152-153. Zai zhe yi ge quyu li 在這一個區域裏: “Message d’amour,” in Pernot, 138 (YS 81 (May 30, 1926): 7-8, as “Jin xila de minge er shou” 今希臘的民歌二首). 21 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 22 Wo yao bianzuo le 我要變作了: “Les Métamorphoses,” in Pernot, 142 (YS, ibid.) Yi zhi tuying 一隻禿鷹, untitled, in Marcu Beza, Papers on the Rumanian people and literature (London, 1920), 59. Xiao guniang, ni bu yao nong cuo le 小姑娘，你不要弄錯了, untitled, in Beza, 49-50. Nülang, meihao de nülang 女郎，美好的女郎, untitled, in Beza, 55. Zai shan zhong wangwang lailai de zou 在山中往往來來的走: “Errant par la montagne,” in Georges Lemierre, Deux Chants populaires persans (Paris, 1922), 3-4. O! Ni he le xie jiu 哦！你喝了些酒: “O toi qui, pour avoir bu du vin,” in Lemierre, 5-6. O! Leiyila 哦！蕾衣拉: “Leila,” in Adolphe Thalasso, Anthologie de l'amour asiatique (Paris, 1907), 300-301. Wei de shi ni ai zhe wo wo ye ai zhe ni 為的是你愛着我我也愛着你: “Chanson populaire,” in Thalasso, 254. Kanjian le ni de mian 看見了你的面: “Le Rendez-vous,” in Thalasso, 150-151 (YS 94 (August 28, 1926): 9-11, as “Jianpuzhai de minge” 柬埔寨的民歌, dated Vietnam, March 26). Zai yi ge bankaibanyan de men litou 在一個半開半掩的門裏頭: “La belle Zulma,” in Thalasso, 129-130 (YS 96 (September 11, 1926): 5-6, as “Biluzhisitan de minge” 俾路芝斯坦的民歌). Ai! Yisheng a! 唉！醫生啊！: “Le mal d’aimer,” in Thalasso, 123-124 (YS 93 (August 22, 1926): 9, as “Xiao Yaxiya de qingge” 小亞斯亞的情歌). Shaonianren 少年人: “Honey,” in Edward P. Mathers, The Garden of Bright Waters (Oxford, 1920), 96 (YS 77 (May 3, 1926): 4, as “Guowai minge er shou” 國外民歌二首). Haoxiang shi he zhong liu zhe de shui 好像是河中流着的水: “Separation,” in Mathers, 86 (YS, ibid.). Yi ge ren duanran shuo bu chu 一個人斷然說不出: “Le secret des coeurs,” in Thalasso, 280. Cong zhe keshu shang 從這顆樹上: “Le femme la plus vertueuse,” in Thalasso, 280-281. Yaoshi ni bu yuanyi 要是你不願意: “Le feu et l’amour,” in Thalasso, 281. Funümen chang de shoucheng ge 婦女們唱的收成歌: “Women’s Harvest Song,” in Amy Lowell, “Songs of the Pueblo Indians,” The Dial (September, 1920): 247 (YS 115 (January 22, 1927): 6-8, as “Xi yindu Pueblo zu de minge” 西印度 Pueblo 族的民歌). Kuangzi ge 筐子歌: “Basket Dance,” in Lowell, 248. (YS, ibid.) Funümen chang de gu ge 婦女們唱的穀歌: “Women’s Song of the Corn,” in Lowell, 248-249 (YS 116 (January 30, 1927): 8-10, as “Xi yindu Pueblo zu de minge”). Ti xiangrikui qiu yu de shihou chang de ge 替向日葵求雨的時候唱的歌: “Prayer for a Profusion of Sunflowers,” in Lowell, 249-250. (YS, ibid.). Qiu shandian de ge 求閃電的歌: “Prayer for Lightning. Ceremonial at the Sun Spring,” in Lowell, 250. Chui dizi de fashi qiu yu de shihou chang de ge 吹笛子的法師求雨的時候唱的歌: “Flute-priest Song for Rain,” in Lowell, 250-251. Haiwai de Zhongguo minge 海外的中國民歌, originally published in Geyao zhoukan 歌謠週刊 25 (September 23, 1923): 1-4. It contains five songs from Charles G. Leland, Pidgin-English Singsong (London, 1897): “Little Jack Horner” (75); “The Rat” (73); “L’Oiseau” (68); “The Pigeon” (74); and “The Toyman’s Song” (76). In the postscript Liu expresses his desire of translating the remaining 17 poems.