ILLUMINATIONS

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Tale of Kieu's summary:
Tale of Kieu is one of the masterpiece in Vietnamese literature. The story is about the tragic life of Thuy Kieu. Thuy Kieu is a girl in dream of many man, she was born in a rich family with all the talented and beauty. She met and fell in love with Kim Trong. They engaged secretly in She lives peacefully in the family until one day her family fell into a disaster. In order to save the family Kieu has to sell herself to Ma Giam Sinh and then he sells her to brothel. She lives with a spleenful mood and always think about her life before. One day, she met So Khanh. He promised to save her from the brothel, but in fact, he again sells her to another brothel. In here, she mets Thuc Ky Tam who is really in love with her. He promised to save her when he finished his work. However, his wife – an extremely jealous woman knew the story about Kieu and her husband. She kidnapped Kieu and made her a servant in the house. Thuc Ky Tam came back home and he had to face to face with Kieu in a painful situation. Later, his wife sent Kieu to a pagoda and made her become a nun. In here, Kieu met a nun named Giac Duyen. She was a evil since she sold Kieu to another brothel. In the new brothel, she met Tu Hai – a hero under the penpoint of Nguyen Du, but he was actually the part against the dynasty. He saved and married Kieu. He helped her to punish those who brought the tragedy to her life. However, because of the innocence of Kieu, Tu Hai was killed by the force of the dynasty. Then Kieu was sold to a mandarin. She tried to kill herself but she was rescued and fortunately she met Kim Trong, her former fiance. They reunite, but Kieu just wanted to be a friend to Kim Trong.

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Huynh, trans. The Tale of Kieu. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983. Pp. 3-37, odd.A hundred years—in this life span on earthtalent and destiny are apt to feud.You must go through a play of ebb and flow*and watch such things as make you sick at heart.Is it so strange that losses balance gains?* 5Blue Heaven's wont to strike arose from spite.*By lamplight turn these scented leaves and reada tale of love recorded in old books.Under the Chia-ching reign when Ming held sway,*all lived at peace—both capitals stood strong.* 10There was a burgher in the clan of Vuong,*a man of modest wealth and middle rank.He had a last‑born son, Vuong Quan—his hope*to carry on a line of learned folk.Two daughters, beauties both, had come before: 15Thuy Kieu was oldest, younger was Thuy Van.*Bodies like slim plum branches, snow‑pure souls:each her own self, each perfect in her way.In quiet grace Van was beyond compare:her face a moon, her eyebrows two full curves; 20her smile a flower, her voice the song of jade;her hair the sheen of clouds, her skin white snow.Yet Kieu possessed a keener, deeper charm,surpassing Van in talents and in looks.Her eyes were autumn streams, her brows spring hills. 25Flowers grudged her glamour, willows her fresh hue.A glance or two from her, and kingdoms rocked!Supreme in looks, she had few peers in gifts.By Heaven blessed with wit, she knew all skills:she could write verse and paint, could sing and chant. 30Of music she had mastered all five tones*and played the lute far better than Ai Chang.*She had composed a song called Cruel Fate*to mourn all women in soul‑rending strains.A paragon of grace for womanhood,* 35she neared that time when maidens pinned their hair.*She calmly lived behind drawn shades and drapes,as wooers swarmed, unheeded, by the wall.*Swift swallows and spring days were shuttling by—of ninety radiant ones three score had fled. 40Young grass spread all its green to heaven's rim;some blossoms marked pear branches with white dots.Now came the Feast of Light in the third month*with graveyard rites and junkets on the green.As merry pilgrims flocked from near and far,* 45the sisters and their brother went for a stroll.Fine men and beauteous women on parade:a crush of clothes, a rush of wheels and steeds.*Folks clambered burial knolls to strew and burnsham gold or paper coins, and ashes swirled. 50Now, as the sun was dipping toward the west,the youngsters started homeward, hand in hand.With leisured steps they walked along a brook,admiring here and there a pretty view.The rivulet, babbling, curled and wound its course 55under a bridge that spanned it farther down.Beside the road a mound of earth loomed upwhere withered weeds, half yellow and half green.Kieu asked: "Now that the Feast of Light is on,why is no incense burning for this grave?" 60Vuong Quan told her this tale from first to last:"She was a famous singer once, Dam Tien.*Renowned for looks and talents in her day,she lacked not lovers jostling at her door.*But fate makes roses fragile—in mid‑spring* 65off broke the flower that breathed forth heaven's scents.From overseas a stranger came to wooand win a girl whose name spread far and wide.But when the lover's boat sailed into port,he found the pin had snapped, the vase had crashed.* 70A death‑still silence filled the void, her room;*all tracks of horse or wheels had blurred to moss.He wept, full of a grief no words could tell:`Harsh is the fate that has kept us apart!Since in this life we are not meant to meet, 75let me pledge you my troth for our next life.’He purchased both a coffin and a hearse*and rested her in dust beneath this mound,among the grass and flowers. For many moons,*who's come to tend a grave that no one claims?" 80A well of pity lay within Kieu's heart:as soon as she had heard her tears burst forth.*"How sorrowful is women's lot!" she cried."We all partake of woe, our common fate.Creator, why are you so mean and cruel, 85blighting green days and fading rose-fresh cheeks?*Alive, she played the wife to all the world,alas, to end down there without a man!Where are they now who shared in her embrace?*Where are they now who lusted for her charms?* 90Since no one else gives her a glance, a thought,I'll light some incense candles while I'm here.I'll mark our chance encounter on the road—perhaps, down by the Yellow Springs, she'll know."She prayed in mumbled tones, then she knelt down 95to make a few low bows before the tomb.Dusk gathered on a patch of wilted weeds—reed tassels swayed as gently blew the breeze.She pulled a pin out of her hair and gravedfour lines of stop‑short verse on a tree's bark.* 100Deeper and deeper sank her soul in trance—all hushed, she tarried there and would not leave.The cloud on her fair face grew darker yet:as sorrow ebbed or flowed, tears dropped or streamed.Van said: "My sister, you should be laughed at, 105lavishing tears on one long dead and gone!""Since ages out of mind," retorted Kieu,"harsh fate has cursed all women, sparing none.*As I see her lie there, it hurts to thinkwhat will become of me in later days." 110"A fine speech you just made!" protested Quan."It jars the ears to hear you speak of herand mean yourself. Dank air hangs heavy here—day's failing, and there's still a long way home."Kieu said: "When one who shines in talent dies, 115the body passes on, the soul remains.In her, perhaps, I've found a kindred heart:let's wait and soon enough she may appear."Before they could respond to what Kieu said,a whirlwind rose from nowhere, raged and raved. 120It blustered, strewing buds and shaking treesand scattering whiffs of perfume in the air.They strode along the path the whirlwind tookand plainly saw fresh footprints on the moss.They stared at one another, terror-struck. 125"You've heard the prayer of my pure faith!" Kieu cried."As kindred hearts, we've joined each other here—transcending life and death, soul sisters meet."Dam Tien had cared to manifest herself:to what she'd written Kieu now added thanks. 130A poet's feelings, rife with anguish, flowed:she carved an old-style poem on the tree.*To leave or stay—they all were wavering still*when nearby rang the sound of harness bells.They saw a youthful scholar come their way 135astride a colt he rode with slackened rein.He carried poems packing half his bag,*and tagging at his heels were some page boys.His frisky horse's coat was dyed with snow.His gown blent tints of grass and pale blue sky. 140He spied them from afar, at once alitand walked toward them to pay them his respects.His figured slippers trod the green—the fieldnow sparkled like some jade-and-ruby grove.Young Vuong stepped forth and greeted him he knew 145while two shy maidens hid behind the flowers.He came from somewhere not so far away,Kim Trong, a scion of the noblest stock.*Born into wealth and talent, he'd receivedhis wit from heaven, a scholar's trade from men. 150Manner and mien set him above the crowd:he studied books indoors, lived high abroad.Since birth he'd always called this region home—he and young Vuong were classmates at their school.His neighbors' fame had spread and reached his ear: 155two beauties locked in their Bronze Sparrow Tower!*But, as if hills and streams had barred the way,he had long sighed and dreamt of them, in vain.How lucky, in this season of new leaves,*to roam about and find his yearned-for flowers! 160He caught a fleeting glimpse of both afar:spring orchid, autumn mum—a gorgeous pair!Beautiful girl and talented young man—what stirred their hearts their eyes still dared not say.They hovered, rapture-bound, `tween wake and dream: 165they could not stay, nor would they soon depart.The dusk of sunset prompted thoughts of gloom—he left, and longingly she watched him go.Below a stream flowed clear, and by the bridgea twilit willow rustled threads of silk. 170When Kieu got back behind her flowered drapes,the sun had set, the curfew gong had rung.Outside the window, squinting, peeped the moon—gold spilled on waves, trees shadowed all the yard.East drooped a red camellia, toward the next house:* 175as dewdrops fell, the spring branch bent and bowed.Alone, in silence, she beheld the moon,*her heart a raveled coil of hopes and fears:"Lower than that no person could be brought!It's just a bauble then, the glittering life. 180And who is he? Why did we chance to meet?Does fate intend some tie between us two?"Her bosom heaved in turmoil—she poured fortha wondrous lyric fraught with all she felt.The moonlight through the blinds was falling slant. 185Leaning against the window, she drowsed off.Now out of nowhere there appeared a girlof worldly glamour joined to virgin grace:face washed with dewdrops, body clad in snow,and hovering feet, two golden lotus blooms.* 190With joy Kieu hailed the stranger, asking her:"Did you stray here from that Peach Blossom Spring?""We two are sister souls," the other said.*"Have you forgotten? We just met today!My cold abode lies west of here, out there, 195above a running brook, below a bridge.By pity moved, you stooped to notice meand strew on me poetic pearls and gems.I showed them to our League Chief and was told*your name is marked in the Book of the Damned. * 200We both reap what we sowed in our past lives:of the same League, we ride the selfsame boat.Well, ten new subjects our League Chief just set:again please work your magic with a brush."Kieu did as asked and wrote—with nymphic grace 205her hand dashed off ten lyrics at one stroke.Dam Tien read them and marveled to herself:"Rich‑wrought embroidery from a heart of gold!Included in the Book of Sorrow Songs,*they'll yield the palm to none but win first prize." 210The caller crossed the doorsill, turned to leave,but Kieu would hold her back and talk some more.A sudden gust of wind disturbed the blinds,and Kieu awakened, knowing she had dreamed.She looked, but nowhere could she see the girl, 215though hints of perfume lingered here and there.Alone with her dilemma in deep night,she viewed the road ahead and dread seized her.A rose afloat, a water fern adrift:such was the lot her future held in store. 220Her inmost feelings surged, wave after wave—again and yet again she broke and cried.Kieu's sobs sent echoes through the phoenix drapes.Aroused, her mother asked: "What troubles you*that you still stir and fret at dead of night, 225your cheeks like some pear blossoms drenched with rain?"Kieu said: "You once bore me, you've brought me up,a double debt I've not repaid one whit.Today, while strolling, I found Dam Tien's grave,then in a dream she just revealed herself. 230She told me how by fate I'm doomed to grief,delivered themes on which I wrote some songs.As I interpret what the dream portends,my life in days ahead won't come to much!"Her mother said: "Are dreams and vapors grounds 235whereon to build a tale of woe? Just think!"Kieu tried to heed such words of sound advice,but soon her tears welled up and flowed again.*Outside the window chirped an oriole—over the wall a catkin flew next door.* 240The tilting moonlight lay aslant the porch—she stayed alone, alone with her own grief.How strange, the race of lovers! Try as you will,*you can't unsnarl their hearts' entangled threads.Since Kim was back inside his book‑lined walls, 245he could not drive her from his haunted mind.He drained the cup of gloom: it filled anew—one day without her seemed three autumns long.Silk curtains veiled her windows like dense clouds,and toward the rose within he'd dream his way. 250The moon kept waning, oil kept burning low:his face yearned for her face, his heart her heart.The study‑room turned icy, metal‑cold—*brushes lay dry, lute strings hung loose on frets.Hsiang bamboo blinds stirred rustling in the wind—* 255incense roused longing, tea lacked love's sweet taste.If fate did not mean them to join as mates,*why had the temptress come and teased his eyes?*Forlorn, he missed the scene, he missed the girl:he rushed back where by chance the two had met. 260A tract of land with grasses lush and green,with waters crystal‑clear: he saw naught else.The breeze at twilight stirred a mood of grief—the reeds waved back and forth as if to taunt.A lover's mind is full of her he loves: 265he walked straight on and made toward her Blue Bridge.*Fast gate, high wall: no stream for his red leaf,*no passage for his bluebird bearing word.*A willow dropped its curtain of silk threads—perched on a branch, an oriole chirped jeers. 270All doors were shut, all bolts were locked in place.A threshold strewn with flowers—where was she?He lingered, standing there as time passed by,then to the rear he strolled—he saw a house.Its owner, traveling heathen climes for trade,* 275was still away—left vacant were the rooms.Young Kim, as student, came to rent the househe brought his lute, his books, and settled in.He lacked for nothing—trees and rocks, a porchinscribed in vivid gold: "Kingfisher View." * 280The porch's name made him exult inside:"It must be Heaven's will that we should meet!"He left his window open just a crackand daily glanced his eyes toward that east wall.Nearby both spring and grotto stayed tight shut: * 285he failed to see the nymph flit in and out.Since he left home to dwell at this strange lodge,twice on its rounds the moon had come and gone.Now, on a balmy day, across the wall,he glimpsed a lissome form beneath peach trees. 290He dropped the lute, smoothed down his gown, rushed out:her scent was wafting still—of her no trace.As he paced round the wall, his eye espieda golden hairpin caught on a peach branch.He reached for it and took it home. He thought: 295"It left a woman's chamber and came here.This jewel must be hers. Why, fate binds us—if not, could it have fallen in my hands?"Now sleepless, he admired and stroked the pinstill faintly redolent of sandalwood. 300At dawn when mists had cleared, he found the girlpeering along the wall with puzzled eyes.The student had been lurking there in wait—across the wall he spoke to test her heart:"From nowhere I have found this hairpin here: 305I would send back the pearl, but where's Ho‑p'u?"Now from the other side Kieu's voice was heard:"I thank him who won't keep a jewel found.A pin's worth little, but it means so muchthat in your scale what's right weighs more than gold." 310He said: "We come and go in these same parts—we're neighbors, not two strangers, not at all!I owe this moment to some scent you dropped,but countless torments I've endured till now.So long I've waited for just this one day! 315Stay on and let me ask your private thoughts."He hurried off and fetched some things from home:gold bracelets in a pair, a scarf of silk.By ladder he could climb across the wall:she was the one he'd met that day, no doubt! 320Ashamed, the girl maintained a shy reserve:while he gazed at her face, she hung her head.He said: "We chanced to meet—and ever sinceI have in secret yearned and pined for you.My slender frame has wasted—who'd have thought 325that I could linger on to see this day?For months I dreamt my goddess in the clouds;*lovelorn, I hugged my post, prepared to drown.*But you are here—I beg to ask one thing:will on a leaf of grass the mirror shine?" * 330She faltered—after some demur she said:"Our ways are snow‑pure, plain as turnip greens.When comes the time for love, the marriage bond,*my parents' wish will tie it or will not.You deign to care for me, but I'm too young 335to know what's right and dare not give my word."He said: "It blows one day and rains the next—how often does chance favor us in spring?If you ignore and scorn my desperate love,you'll hurt me—yet what will it profit you? 340Let's pledge our troth with something—once that's done,I'll plan our wedding through a go‑between.Should Heaven disappoint my fondest hopes,*I'll throw away a life in vernal bloom.If to a lover's plea you shut your heart, 345I'll have pursued you all in vain, for naught!"All hushed, she drank in words whose music lulled—love stirred the autumn calm of her fair eyes.She said: "Although our friendship's still quite new,how can my heart resist your heart's behest? 350To your kind bosom you have taken me—I'll etch your word, our troth, in stone and bronze."Her words untied a knot within his breast—to her he passed gold bracelets and red scarf."Henceforth I'm bound to you for life," he said. 355"Call these small gifts a token of my love."In hand she had a sunflower‑figured fan:*she traded it that instant for her pin.They had just sworn an oath to seal their pactwhen from the backyard voices came, abuzz. 350Both fled—in flurries leaves and flowers fell,and he regained his study, she her room.The stone and gold had touched—and from that time,their love grew deeper, more distraught their minds.The Hsiang, the stream of longing tears, ran low: 365he waited at the spring, she at the mouth.The wall rose like a snow‑capped mountain range,and words of love could not go back and forth.As windswept days and moonlit nights wheeled round,red dimmed, green deepened—spring was past and gone. 370A birthday feast fell due in Mother's clan:with their two younger children, both old folksin gay attire left home to journey forthpresenting their best wishes and a gift.A hushed, deserted house—she stayed alone: 375a chance to see him on this day, she thought.She set out fare in season, treats galore,then toward the wall she bent her nimble steps.She sent a soft‑voiced call across the flowers:he was already there awaiting her. 380He said: "Your heart cares not for what I feel—so long you've let love's fire burn to cold ash.Sorrow and yearning I have felt by turns,and half my head of hair frost's tinged with gray."She said: "Wind's held me up, rain's kept me back— 385I've hurt your feelings much against my wish.I'm home alone today—I've come out hereto make amends repaying love for love."She slid around the rock garden and reacheda fresh‑barred passage at the wall's far end. 390She rolled up sleeves, unlocked the fairy cave,and cleared through clouds the path to Paradise!*Face gazed at face to glow with purest joy.Fond greetings they exchanged. Then, side by side,they walked together toward his study‑room 395while mingling words of love and vows of troth.Brush rack and tube for poems on his desk—above, there hung a sketch of pale green pines.Frost‑bitten and wind‑battered, they looked real:the more she gazed, the more they sprang to life. 400"It's something I dashed off just now," he said."Please write your comments, lending it some worth."Her nymphic hand moved like a lashing stormand penned some quatrains right atop the pines."Your magic conjures gems and pearls!" he cried. 405"Could Pan and Hsieh have measured up to this?*If I did not earn merit in past lives,could I be blessed with you, my treasure, now?"She said: "I've dared to peek and read your face:you shall wear jade or cross the Golden Gate.* 410But I deem my own lot a mayfly's wing:*will Heaven square things out and round things off?*Back in my childish years, I still recall,a seer observed my features—he foretold:`All charms and splendors from within burst forth: 415she'll live an artist's life, a life of woe.'I look at you, then on myself look back:how could good luck, ill luck conjoin and thrive?"He said: "That we have met means fate binds us.Man's will has often vanquished Heaven's whim. 420But should the knot which ties us fall apart,I'll keep my troth and sacrifice my life."They bared and shared all secrets of their souls—spring feelings quivered hearts, spring wine turned heads.A happy day is shorter than a span: 425the western hills had swallowed up the sun.With none at home, she could no longer stay:she left him, rushing back to her own room.News of her folks she learned when she reached home:her feasting parents would not soon be back. 430She dropped silk curtains at the entrance door,then crossed the garden in dark night, alone.The moon through branches cast shapes bright or dark—through curtains glimmered flickers of a lamp.The student at his desk had nodded off, 435reclining half awake and half asleep.The girl's soft footsteps woke him from his drowse:the moon was setting as she hovered near.He wondered—was this Wu‑hsia the fairy hill,*where he was dreaming now a spring night's dream? 440"Along a lonesome, darkened path," she said,"for love of you I found my way to you.Now we stand face to face—but who can tellwe shan't wake up and learn it was a dream?"He bowed and welcomed her, then he replaced 445the candle and refilled the incense urn.Both wrote a pledge of troth, and with a knifethey cut in two a lock of her long hair.The stark bright moon was gazing from the skiesas with one voice both mouths pronounced the oath. 450Their hearts' recesses they explored and probed,etching their vow of union in their bones.Both sipped a nectar wine from cups of jade—silks breathed their scents, the mirror glassed their selves."The breeze blows cool, the moon shines clear," he said, 455"but in my heart still burns a thirst unquenched.The pestle's yet to pound on the Blue Bridge—*I fear my bold request might give offense."She said: "By the red leaf, the crimson thread,*we're bound for life—our oath proves mutual faith. 460Of love make not a sport, a dalliance,and what would I begrudge you otherwise?"He said: "You've won wide fame as lutanist:like Chung Tzu‑ch'i I've longed to hear you play.""It's no great art, my luting," answered she, 465"but if you so command, I must submit."In the back porch there hung his moon‑shaped lute:he hastened to present it in both hands,at eyebrow's height. "My petty skill," she cried,"is causing you more bother than it's worth!" 470By turns she touched the strings, both high and low,to tune all four to five tones, then she played.An air, The Battlefield of Han and Ch'u,*made one hear bronze and iron clash and clang.The Ssu‑ma tune, A Phoenix Seeks His Mate,* 475sounded so sad, the moan of grief itself.Here was Chi K'ang's famed masterpiece, Kuang‑ling—*was it a stream that flowed, a cloud that roamed?Crossing the Border‑gate—here was Chao‑chun,half lonesome for her lord, half sick for home. * 480Clear notes like cries of egrets flying past;dark tones like torrents tumbling in mid‑course.Andantes languid as a wafting breeze;allegros rushing like a pouring rain.The lamp now flared, now dimmed—and there he sat 485hovering between sheer rapture and deep gloom.He'd hug his knees or he'd hang down his head—he'd feel his entrails wrenching, knit his brows."Indeed, a master's touch," he said at last,"but it betrays such bitterness within! 490Why do you choose to play those plaintive strainswhich grieve your heart and sorrow other souls?""I'm settled in my nature," she replied."Who knows why Heaven makes one sad or gay?But I shall mark your golden words, their truth, 495and by degrees my temper may yet mend."A fragrant rose, she sparkled in full bloom,bemused his eyes, and kindled his desire.When waves of lust had seemed to sweep him off,his wooing turned to wanton liberties. 500She said: "Treat not our love as just a game—please stay away from me and let me speak.What is a mere peach blossom that one shouldfence off the garden, thwart the bluebird's quest?But you've named me your bride—to serve her man,* 505she must place chastity above all else.They play in mulberry groves along the P'u,*but who would care for wenches of that ilk?Are we to snatch the moment, pluck the fruit,*and in one sole day wreck a lifelong trust? 510Let's ponder those love stories old and new—what well‑matched pair could equal Ts'ui and Chang?*Yet passion's storms did topple stone and bronze:*she cloyed her lover humoring all his whims.As wing to wing and limb to limb they lay,* 515contempt already lurked beside their hearts.Under the western roof the two burned outthe incense of their vow, and love turned shame.If I don't cast the shuttle in defense,*we'll later blush for it—who'll bear the guilt? 520Why force your wish on your shy flower so soon?While I'm alive, you'll sometime get your due."The voice of sober reason gained his ear,and tenfold his regard for her increased.As silver paled along the eaves, they heard 525an urgent call from outside his front gate.She ran back toward her chamber while young Kimrushed out and crossed the yard where peaches bloomed.IIThe brushwood gate unbolted, there came ina houseboy with a missive fresh from home. 530It said Kim's uncle while abroad had died,whose poor remains were now to be brought back.To far Liao‑yang, beyond the hills and streams,*he'd go and lead the cortege, Father bade.*What he'd just learned astounded Kim—at once 535he hurried to her house and broke the news.In full detail he told her how a death,striking his clan, would send him far away:"We've scarcely seen each other—now we part.We've had no chance to tie the marriage tie. * 540But it's still there, the moon that we swore by:not face to face, we shall stay heart to heart.A day will last three winters far from you:my tangled knot of grief won't soon unknit.Care for yourself, my gold, my jade, that I, 545at the world's ends, may know some peace of mind."She heard him speak, her feelings in a snarl.With broken words, she uttered what she thought:"Why does he hate us so who spins silk threads?*Before we've joined in joy we part in grief. 550Together we did swear a sacred oath:my hair shall gray and wither, not my love.What matter if I must wait months and years?I'll think of my wayfaring man and grieve.We've pledged to wed our hearts—I'll never leave 555and play my lute aboard another's boat.As long as hills and streams endure, come back,remembering her who is with you today."They lingered hand in hand and could not part,but now the sun stood plumb above the roof. 560Step by slow step he tore himself away—at each farewell their tears would fall in streams.Horse saddled and bags tied in haste, he left:they split their grief in half and parted ways.Strange landscapes met his mournful eyes—on trees 565cuckoos galore, at heaven's edge some geese.Grieve for him who must bear through wind and raina heart more loaded down with love each day.There she remained, her back against the porch,her feelings snarled like raveled skeins of silk. 570Through window bars she gazed at mists beyond—a washed‑out rose, a willow gaunt and pale.Distraught, she tarried walking back and forthwhen from the birthday feast her folks returned.Before they could trade news of health and such, 575in burst a mob of bailiffs on all sides.With cudgels under arm and swords in hand,those fiends and monsters rushed around, berserk.*They cangued them both, the old man, his young son—one cruel rope trussed two dear beings up. 580Then, like bluebottles buzzing through the house,*they smashed workbaskets, shattered looms to bits.They grabbed all jewels, fineries, personal things,scooping the household clean to fill greed's bag.From nowhere woe had struck—who'd caused it all? 585Who'd somehow set the snare and sprung the trap?Upon inquiry it was later learnedsome knave who sold raw silk had brought a charge.*Fear gripped the household—cries of innocenceshook up the earth, injustice dimmed the clouds. 590All day they groveled, begged, and prayed—deaf earswould hear no plea, harsh hands would spare no blow.A rope hung each from girders, by his heels—rocks would have broken, let alone mere men.Their faces spoke sheer pain and fright—this wrong 595could they appeal to Heaven far away?Lawmen behaved that day as is their wont,wreaking dire havoc just for money's sake.*By what means could she save her flesh and blood?When evil strikes, you bow to circumstance. 600As you must weigh and choose between your loveand filial duty, which will turn the scale?She put aside all vows of love and troth—a child first pays the debts of birth and care.Resolved on what to do, she said: "Hands off— 605I'll sell myself and Father I'll redeem."There was an elderly scrivener surnamed Chung,*a bureaucrat who somehow had a heart.He witnessed how a daughter proved her loveand felt some secret pity for her plight. 610Planning to pave this way and clear that path,he reckoned they would need three hundred liang.He'd have her kinsmen freed for now, bade herprovide the sum within two days or three.Pity the child, so young and so naïve— 615misfortune, like a storm, swooped down on her.*To part from Kim meant sorrow, death in life—would she still care for life, much less for love?A raindrop does not brood on its poor fate;*a leaf of grass repays three months of spring.* 620Matchmakers were advised of her intent—brisk rumor spread the tidings near and far.There lived a woman in that neighborhood,who brought a suitor, one from out of town.When asked, he gave his name as Scholar Ma* 625and claimed his home to be "Lin‑ch'ing, near here."*Past forty, far beyond the bloom of youth,he wore a smooth‑shaved face and smart attire.Master and men behind came bustling in—the marriage broker ushered him upstairs. 630He grabbed the best of seats and sat in statewhile went the broker bidding Kieu come out.Crushed by her kinsfolk's woe and her own grief,she crossed the sill, tears flowing at each step.She felt the chill of winds and dews, ashamed 635to look at flowers or see her mirrored face.The broker smoothed her hair and stroked her hand,coaxing a wilted mum, a gaunt plum branch.He pondered looks, gauged skills—he made her playthe moon‑shaped lute, write verses on a fan. 640Of her lush charms he relished each and all:well pleased, he set to bargaining a deal.He said: "For jade I've come to this Blue Bridge:*tell me how much the bridal gift will cost."The broker said: "She's worth her weight in gold! 645But in distress they'll look to your big heart."They haggled hard and long, then struck a deal:the price for her, four hundred and some liang.*All was smooth paddling once they gave their word—*as pledges they swapped horoscopic cards 650and set the day when, full paid for, she'd wed.When cash is ready, what cannot be fixed?Old Chung was asked to help—at his request,old Vuong could on probation go back home.Pity the father facing his young child. 655Looking at her, he bled and died within:"You raise a daughter wishing she might finda fitting match, might wed a worthy mate.O Heaven, why inflict such woes on us?Who slandered us to tear our home apart? 6601 would not mind the ax for these old bones,but how can I endure my child's ordeal?Death now or later happens only once—I'd rather pass away than suffer so."After he'd said those words he shed more tears 665and made to knock his head against a wall.They rushed to stop him, then she softly spokeand with some words of comfort calmed him down:"What is she worth, a stripling of a girlwho's not repaid one whit a daughter's debts? 670Ying once shamed me, petitioning the throne—*could I fall short of Li who sold herself?*As it grows old, the cedar is a tree*that singly shoulders up so many boughs.If moved by love you won't let go of me, 675I fear a storm will blow and blast our home.You'd better sacrifice just me—one flowerwill turn to shreds, but green will stay the leaves.Whatever lot befalls me I accept—think me a blossom nipped when budding green. 680Let no wild notions run around your heador you shall wreck our home and hurt yourself."Words of good sense sank smoothly in his ear—they stared at one another, pouring tears.Outside, that Scholar Ma appeared again— 685they signed the contract, silver then changed hands.A wanton god, the Old Man of the Moon,*at random tying couples with his threads!When money's held in hand it's no great trickswaying men's hearts and turning black to white. 690Old Chung did all he could and gave all help:gifts once presented, charges were dismissed.Her family's woes were settled for a time,but now the bridal hour drew on apace.Alone, she huddled by the midnight lamp, 695with tear‑soaked gown and sorrow‑withered hair:"No matter what fate deals me, I will grievefor him who's steadfast kept the vow he swore.How much he toiled and strove to win my love!But grown attached to me, he's marred his life. 700The cup we both drank from has barely driedwhen I now break my oath and play him false.In far‑away Liao‑yang how can he guessour union's torn asunder by my hand?

2004-07-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

My picture is about the wood of the suicide. I use black and white to illustrate the shadow, ugliness and pain of Hell. Herpies are members of Hell, so I use black to emphasize their cold, brutality. Those sinners are encased on the tree and Herpies scratch the sinner, blood runs on the body. These sinners destroyed their own body, denied human form, which is an expression of self-destruction, so they are permitted to speak only through that which tears and destroys them.

2004-07-10T14:43:00.000-07:00

2004-07-10T14:32:00.000-07:00

Name: An Vu Professor: Dr. Adam Davis
ILLUMINATION
Date: 07.10.04

CONSEQUENCE OF EARTHLY LIFE
Dante Alighieri is considered to be the greatest poet of not only Italy but also played an important role in the history of world literature. His masterpiece The Divine Comedy consists of three canticles, The Inferno, The Purgatorio, and The Paradiso. They open to readers a scene of human life after death. The Inferno, which is the first part of this epitome, not only shows his belief about afterlife but also affirms the unmovable justice: sin must be punished. That is the solid testimony of Inferno.
The idea of having a consciousness after death without need for resurrection became a part of Jewish tradition after it had been captured by pagan Babylon for 70 years. It is believed to be a place for sinners who have not repented. And in the Middle Ages, Dante has made Hell a more vivid image in his poem The Inferno. In The Inferno, the striking image of Hell fears the readers for their brutality. Dante has engraved on the Gate of Hell the declaration of eternal punishment for its sinners.
“I am the way into the city of woe
I am the way to a forsaken people
I am the way into eternal sorrow…
Abandon all hope ye who enter here.” (Ciardi 42)
“Only those who abandon hope enter, and therefore, there is no hope for those who enter.” (Dr. Davis) The Gate has foretold the perpetual shadow and pain for those who choose to enter it. These lines can frighten the readers who have just read this poem for the first time. However, through these terrified words, the strict punishment of God has been praised as Divine Justice. Punishment is not only for the recognition of the sin but also for the demand of justice. The sinners must pay for the sins they caused in their living life.

2004-07-10T14:30:00.000-07:00

This painting is the Gate of Hell (unknown author). The black occupies large proportion of the picture. In addition to the effect of bringing the cold and fear feeling, black successfully illustrate the eternal depth of Hell. There is no �light at the end of the tunnel�. The red on the sides of the gate draws the feeling of sorrow since red make us think of blood. Above we can see the engraved words �Abandon every hope, all you who enter� These famous lines emphasize the eternal pain, no way to escape.

2004-07-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

Sin must be punished. But how much? To answer this question, Dante again show how much he praised God Justice. The sinners in Hell were punished at different level proportion to the heavy of their sin. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” The construction of Hell serves this purpose. Hell is structured following the pattern of astronomer Ptolemy. “Earth is the center of the universe and that the following nine levels surround and rotate around the earth” (Forman.) There are nine circles, and each circle serves for the punishment of a particular sin. “The law of Dante’s Hell is the law of symbolic retribution. As they sinned so are they punished” (Ciardi 41). The level of punishment depends on the seriousness of the sin they have on earth.
Sins of human are classified into three distinct groups: Incontinence, Violence and Fraud. Since Incontinence is least hated by God therefore, this sin placed close to the ground which is close to Him. Lust is classified as a minor sin and treated with consideration. Their punishment is the lightest compare to those below it. Lustful are those who betrayed reason to their appetites. Their sin was to abandon themselves to the tempest of their passion: so they are swept forever in the tempest of Hell. Francesca and Paolo were one of the sinners in this circle. Carefully going through the story told by Francesca, we can understand their consequence in afterlife.
“We were alone with innocence and dim time.
Pause after pause that high old story drew
our eyes together while we blushed and paled;
but it was one soft passage overthrew
our caution and our hearts….” (Ciardi 62)

2004-07-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

This painting by Amos Casioli interests me. In the picture, Paolo�s motion seems like he took the initiative in this kissing. His hands hold her face, his body leaned toward her. Looking at the hands of Francesca, we can see that they lie on her thigh motionlessly. She does not resist the kiss of Paolo or try to kiss him. She is just simply kissing his kiss. She looks like she understand the wrongness in her action but she cannot resist the attraction. The book is falling on the floor. The carpet is rumpled. A piece of cloth is thrown on the floor. It looks like a mess under their foot. Their kiss comes naturally from the irresistible attraction rather than an arranged action. Therefore, their sin is not as serious as those of the betrayals

2004-07-10T14:20:00.000-07:00

This black and white picture of Gustave Dore is impressive. The black and white causes a successful effect. The darkness brings the feeling of shadow, cold in Hell. The bright color of Francesco and Paolo highly contrasts with the darkness around make them the center of attention in the picture. In the picture, Francesca holds on to the neck of Paolo, and her face turns toward Dante and Vigil trying to tell their miserable story. Paolo is illustrated pretty much like a corpse. However his strong figure seems like a stable anchor for Francesca to hold on. They are sweeping with the wind. The head of Dante and Vigil is leaned toward them, looks like they are trying to listen to their story and feel sympathetic for them. There are also other couples who also attach to each other and swept in the direction of the wind. This image does not depict any painful torment. Their face is imperturbable. They are just flying with their mate. This picture successfully shows the thoughtful of Dante toward these sinners. He understand their choice.

2004-07-10T14:08:00.000-07:00

2004-07-10T13:53:00.000-07:00

2004-07-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

2004-07-10T12:14:00.000-07:00

This painting is the Gate of Hell (unknown author). The black occupies large proportion of the picture. In addition to the effect of bringing the cold and fear feeling, black successfully illustrate the eternal depth of Hell. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. The red on the sides of the gate draws the feeling of sorrow since red make us think of blood. Above we can see the engraved words Abandon every hope, all you who enter These famous lines emphasize the eternal pain, no way to escape.

2004-07-10T11:53:00.001-07:00

In this picture, the story of Francesca and Paolo is put in a book. The book is the symbol of continuality; afterlife follows right after earthly life. In addition, the book is also the cause of their sin. The image of them in the last page emphasizes the eternal punishment for their sin. There is no more hope, no escape for them. Also, on the left page, the colorful illustration represents for "life" while the black and white image on the right stands for "death". The dark background behind Giovanni highly contrasts with brightness of the sword he is holding to foretell the death going to fall on these two innocent people.

2004-07-10T11:53:00.000-07:00

This painting by Amos Casioli interests me. In the picture, Paolos motion seems like he took the initiative in this kissing. His hands hold her face, his body leaned toward her. Looking at the hands of Francesca, we can see that they lie on her thigh motionlessly. She does not resist the kiss of Paolo or try to kiss him. She is just simply kissing his kiss. She looks like she understand the wrongness in her action but she cannot resist the attraction. The book is falling on the floor. The carpet is rumpled. A piece of cloth is thrown on the floor. It looks like a mess under their foot. Their kiss comes naturally from the irresistible attraction rather than an arranged action. Therefore, their sin is not as serious as those of the betrayals.

2004-07-10T11:51:00.000-07:00

Capaneus the Blasphemer 1824-27
pen, ink and watercolour (NGV 12)
Felton Bequest, 1920
997-3
National Gallery of Victoria
This painting by William Blake illustrates the punishment of Capaneus. In his painting, William Black always let Dante dress in red (denoting experience) and Virgil dress in blue (denoting spirit). Dante in the picture does not pay any attention to the sinner. His face expresses a feeling of anger. Otherwise, Virgil�s face seems like he agrees with the punishment for this sinner since he knows every sinners in Hell deserve what they deserve. The painting illustrates Capaneus lying on a burning plain. The desert image presents sterility and fire presents wrath. The rain and lightening from above strike him which is the wrath of God upon his sin-blasphemer. This has shown the law of redistribution in Dante�s hell. The combination of cool and hot color, the sharp-pointed of fire give the expression of angry, violent, continuous punishment that he deserves. However, the face of Capaneus is not so successful. In the poem, he is still blaspheming God and sets his face against the fire in scorn. The face in this picture is motionless as if he is settled with his punishment. This does not show his own inner violence, which is the root of blasphemy.

2004-07-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

The Inferno of Dante is a supreme expression of Hell. He demonstrates a strong belief in life after death, and it is the consequence of earthly life. The law of Hell in Inferno is the law of redistribution. The eternal punishment in Hell represents the demand for justice. The pity for these sinners is irrelevant. At first, Dante felt shock and painful for those who have to suffer in Hell, but as he goes further with the explanation of Virgil-Human Reason, he starts to understand the rightness of this punishment. These sinners are placed precisely where they must be and choose to be. Human must pay for the choice they made on earth. Dorothy Sayers says that the Comedy is "The drama of the soul’s choice”.

Below are some of my other sketches to illustrate the poem

2004-07-10T11:41:00.000-07:00

Different from the picture above about Francesca and Paolo, in this picture, I use the scale instead of the book to divide life and afterlife. The scale is the symbol of justice. For this reason, this picture is to emphasize the justice of the poem. Hell in Inferno is a consequence of earthly life, obeys the law of retribution. I just illustrate these two without the detailed background to stress on the idea of equality. I want to make them the center of the illustration

2004-07-10T11:37:00.000-07:00

2004-07-10T10:23:00.000-07:00

Work cited:
Ciardi, John. “The Inferno of Dante Alighieri”. Penguin Group (USA) Inc., New York 2001.
Fredlund, William, Making of the Western Mind, June 25, 2004. http://www.westernmind.com/dante/danteinfernosum.shtml
Hell, June 25, 2004. http://www.letusreason.org/Doct12.htm
Where did the idea of Hell come from June 25, 2004 http://www.tagnet.org/lagroradio/bibres/where.htm
Spiegel, Dana. The Aeneid and The Inferno: Social Evolution. June 28, 2004. http://xenia.media.mit.edu/~spiegel/papers/Hell.pdf
Introduction to the Middle Ages, part 1. June 30, 2004 http://www.umfa.utah.edu/?id=MTUx
The Inferno of Dante, a new verse translation by Robert Pinsky. June 30, 2004. http://www.holtzbrinckpublishers.com/images/Books/TeachersGuides/0374524521TG.pdf.
Blake, William, Illustration to Dante. July 01, 2004 http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/collection/international/print/b/blake/dante.html

2004-07-07T06:55:00.000-07:00

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to the First Level of Hell - Limbo!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very High
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Low
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Very Low

Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test

2004-06-22T07:37:00.000-07:00

Name: An Vu
Project #1
Illuminations
June 21, 2004

ROLE OF WOMEN IN ODYSSEY

The Odyssey is the story about the homecoming of a greatest Greek hero-the god-like Odysseus. This poem is considered to have many influences in numerous stories later on. Through the long and dangerous journey of Odysseus, Homer painted in the readers’ mind a colorful picture of ancient Greeks society-their life, their culture, their belief. Besides this, the idea of feminism is prominently mentioned. According to many research of historians, ancient Greek women had no political rights, they were controlled by men most of the time in their life. They were expected to raise children, weave clothes for the family and all of the housework. Despite this, The Odyssey of Homer had highlighted the position of women. The image of women appears everywhere in the story ranging from devil to goddess, from deadly destructor to powerful savior
There were many women in the homecoming of Odysseus but the woman who had the most essential importance to the success of his homecoming was the grey-eyed goddess Athene. She was the woman who stood behind Odysseus’ success. The goddess appeared to be a beautiful and tall woman, and skilled in glorious handiwork. She was the goddess who saved Odysseus from the Kalypso’s island, inspired and encouraged Telemachus to go out to find the news about his father and helped Odysseus in many countless other things. Athena provided Odysseus with strategies and wisdom as the goddess of wisdom. Homer has highlighted fully and delicatedly a picture of women with wisdom and power throgh Athene’s image.
Another respectful woman was Penelope, the faithful wife of Odyssey. Twenty years separated from her beloved husband, Penelope was still waiting for the day he would come back. She took care of Telemachus, the only son of Odysseus. Penelope’s faithfulness of was the greatest present for Odyssey the day he came back. People can argue that faithfulness is the “duty” of a wife for her husband. Actually, this is not merely something that whoever born a woman must do, it is one of many of women’s wonderful virtues. Penelope vividly represents the symbol of a caring mother and a loyal wife in the family. When Odysseus came back, the circumspect Penelope suppressed all of her longing for him and asked Odysseus carefully to ensure that he was her beloved husband. The poem also praises her wisdom
since she is so dowered with the wisdom bestowed by Athene,
to be expert in beautiful work, to have good character
and cleverness…(Lattimore 42)
for the act of her undoing her glorious weaving to lengthen the day of marriage.
Besides these two dominant women in the life of Odysseus, there were several others who came to be a part of his stories. A Nausikaa who received him kindly when he got lost in her land, Ino, the goddess who saved him when Poseidon tried to sink his ship, there was Arete, the beloved queen of Alkinoo who listens to the prayers of Odysseus. These women were also perfect ideals in the story and were praised by men. For Arete, she was treasured in the heart of every people
So she was held high in the heart and still she is so,
by her beloved children, by Alkinoos himself, and by
the people, who look toward her as to a god when they see her,…
So if she has thoughts in her mind that are friendly to you,
then there is hope that you can see your own people, and come back
to your house with the high roof and to the land of your fathers (Lattimore 113)
For Nausikaa, Odyssey had to say he owed his life to her
So even when I am there I will pray to you, as to a goddess,
all the days of my life. For, maiden, my life was your gift. (Lattimore 133)
Even in his way of writing, Homer also expressed his respect for women “even so may Zeus, high-thundering husband of Hera,” (Lattimore 133). By letting Odysseus be taken care of by women through most of his difficulties, Homer expressed clearly his humanistuc view of women-women were not feeble creatures, they were loyal, powerful, judicious and kind-hearted. Through these characters, The Odyssey of Homer praises feminism.
There are always Good and Bad in life. In addition to the women to be loved, there were also women who to be feared such as Circe, Kalypso, or the Sirens. They, with their irrisestable beauty, were the ones who challenged men the most. They had challenged the bravery, the cunning and also the will to go home of Odysseus. It was Poseidon who tried to prevent Odysseus to come home but most of the obstacles that Odysseus had to encounter on his way were caused by women. Circe had the magic to turn men to pigs, the Sirens had the beautiful voice that could sink many ships and Kalypso had the power to keep Odysseus for seven years on her island. These women strongly defy the thought that women have to fear and serve for men. The poem indicates that women also have the strength to defeat men not only by their power but also by their uttermost charm.

2004-06-22T07:36:00.000-07:00

The picture made by Charles Baude in black and white color is the image of Telemachus kissing his father, Odyssey with the present of Athene. Her clothes is floating in the air which brings the sense of fairy, immortality. The brightly white color of her dress makes her stand out eventhough the center of this picture is Odyssey and Telemachus. This expresses the essential appearance of Athene in this father and son reunion because without her help, Odyssey hardly has a chance to come back to his father’s land. Her hand raised above Odyssey and Telemachus looks like she is making a bless for them.

2004-06-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

This image of an unknown painter has depicted the circumspect Penelope, the faithful wife of Odyssey. In this picture, Penelope had to face to face with the anger of the suitors when they discovered her undoing the weaving. The black background seems like darkness and danger has fallen on Penelope. Her face was filled with surprise but not fear while the look of the suitors was filled with anger and threat. The posture of the handmaid, bowing her head in fear, emphasized the loneliness of Penelope fighting with the suitors. Penelope had to suffer from the pressure of the suitors while her husband was away. She had to live with these haughty men for nearly ten years. This painting has shown the cleverness of Penelope and also the courage to stand alone with danger. Feminism is clearly expressed through the strength of Penelope.

2004-06-22T06:43:00.000-07:00

In this painting by Leon Belly in the Mus�e de l�Hotel Sandelin in Saint Omer, France, the charming and beautiful voice of the Sirens was a deadly weapon that had sunk many ships which went into their sea. The Sirens in these picture were shown with all the beauty and charm of a woman. Their temptation was a big challenge for every men. Odyssey and the Sirens in this picture are naked implies their beauty and also the attraction. All the women in this picture are drawn with all that is considered to be the beauty standard of a woman at that time-broad hip, white, curly hair. Odyssey had to hold tightly to the mast, the sailors have to seal their ears and avoid looking at the Sirens in order to resist the deadly attraction of the Sirens.

2004-06-22T06:17:00.000-07:00

My picture shows the image of Penelope prayed to Athene for the protection of her son, Telemachos because he went away to find news about his father. In this picture, stand above is Penelope praying, and the loyal nurse Eurykleia. Penelope is facing to the sea where her son is sailing to Pylos. On the ground is the suitors who occupied Odysseus castle, ate up his substance, and left a mess in his place. I chose this image because it shows the love a mother to her son and the faithfulness of a wife to her husband. She has to suffer from a lot of sorrows
Hear me, dear friends. The Olympian has given me sorrows
beyond all others who were born and brought up toghether
with me, for first I lost a husband with the heart of a lion�
and now again the stormwinds have caught away my beloved
son, without trace, from the halls, and I never heard when he left me (Lattimore 84)
This character of Penelope depicts a great nature of a woman-a mother. She always worried for her son, protect him from those haughty suitors, the danger that is always around her place

2004-06-22T06:13:00.000-07:00

Another picture of mine is about Athene and Odysseus. This is a graph of Odysseus landing on his fatherland. Along with him is Athene, the goddess who always helped him during his journey. In this picture, Athene put her hand on the Odysseuss shoulder to let him know that she would be by his sides
Then in turn the goddess gray-eyed Athene answered:
I will indeed be at your sid, you will not be forgotten
at the time when we two go to this work, and I look for the endless
ground to be spattered by the blood and brains of the suitors,
these men who are eating all your substance away. But come now,
let me make you so that no mortal can recognize you (Lattimore 208)

2004-06-22T06:09:00.000-07:00

Through The Odyssey, Homer had painted the multicolor and unconventional picture of women. Eventhough this is the story about the homecoming of the hero, god-like Odyssey, the deep meaning inside the poem is about woman, their beauty as well as their soul and how much they affect men in life. They appear as a goddess, a wife, a mother, as well as a devil. They appear with all the beauty and talent can save a man but can also destroy him. The frequently appearance of women in the story is the obvious sign of feminism idea of the poem.

2004-06-22T06:07:00.000-07:00

Reference:
Lattimore, Richmond. The Odyssey of Homer. Harper & Row, Publisher, Inc. New York. 1975
No author. Homer’s Greece. 16 June 2004
http://library.thinkquest.org/19300/data/homersgreece.htm>
Kluth, Frederick John. The Role of Women in the Illiad and the Odyssey. 18 June 2004
No author. Other Adventures of Odysseus. 18 June 2004 http://ccwf.cc.utexas.edu/~lintott/Mythreader/Odyssey/odysseySG.html
McNeil, Russell. Women in Homer's Odyssey. Malaspina Great Book. 16 September 1997. 15 June 2004