Several years ago, I put up two separate posts about the Chinese modern author Ba Jin. The first post was a letter that some elementary students wrote to him seeking his moral advice, and the second post was his reply. In my introduction about Ba Jin, I mentioned that he is most famous for his novel The Family, which criticizes the stifling environment of some Confucian households, where parents control every aspect of their children’s lives. But until now, I had not posted any of Ba Jin’s fiction.
In today’s post, we’ll read the first chapter of The Family. Set in 1920s Chengdu, The Family follows three brothers in the wealthy, tradition-bound Guo household as they each respond differently to the crushing weight of the old patriarchal system — one submitting, one resisting quietly, and one breaking free.
In this chapter, two of the book’s main characters – brothers from the Guo family – are walking home together from the rehearsal of a play their class is staging, talking about it as they walk. The play they are staging is based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. Both brothers are acting in the play, so they mention some of the characters from Treasure Island as part of this dialogue – I think that’s probably the most difficult part to follow.
Other than that, the most notable part is the last couple of paragraphs. Pay attention to how Ba Jin describes the door to the brothers’ family home – it’s so ominous and heavy, foreshadowing the complicated, heavy relationships within.
If you want to continue reading this book for free online, you can do it here.
Key vocab
畏缩 – wèisuō – to shrink back, to cower
凄厉 – qīlì – mournful and shrill
暮色 – mùsè – dusk, twilight
僻静 – pìjìng – quiet and secluded
流利 – liúlì – fluent
遗漏 – yílòu – to omit, to leave out
奥妙 – àomiào – secret, mystery, profound meaning
寥寥 – liáoliáo – very few, sparse
隶书 – lìshū – clerical script (calligraphy style)
风刮得很紧，雪片像扯破了的棉絮一样在空中飞舞，没有目的地四处飘落。左右两边墙脚各有一条白色的路，好像给中间满是水泥的石板路镶了两道宽边。
街上有行人和两人抬的轿子。他们斗不过风雪，显出了畏缩的样子。雪片愈落愈多，白茫茫地布在在天空中，向四处落下，落在伞上，落在轿顶上，落在轿夫的笠上，落在行人的脸上。
风玩弄着伞，把它吹得向四面偏倒，有一两次甚至吹得它离开了行人的手。风在空中怒吼，声音凄厉，跟雪地上的脚步声混合在一起，成了一种古怪的音乐，这音乐刺痛行人的耳朵，好像在警告他们：风雪会长久地管治着世界，明媚的春天不会回来了。
已经到了傍晚，路旁的灯火还没有燃起来。街上的一切逐渐消失在灰暗的暮色里。路上尽是水和泥。空气寒冷。一个希望鼓舞着在僻静的街上走得很吃力的行人──那就是温暖、明亮的家。
“三弟，走快点，”说话的是一个十八岁的青年，一手拿伞，一手提着棉袍的下幅，还掉过头看后面，圆圆的脸冻得通红，鼻子上架着一副金丝眼镜。
在后面走的弟弟是一个有同样身材、穿同样服装的青年。他的年纪稍微轻一点，脸也瘦些，但是一双眼睛非常明亮。
“不要紧，就快到了。……二哥，今天练习的成绩算你最好，英文说得自然，流利。你扮李医生，很不错，”他用热烈的语调说，马上加快了脚步，水泥又溅到他的裤脚上面。
“这没有什么，不过我的胆子大一点，”哥哥高觉民带笑地说，便停了脚步，让弟弟高觉慧走到他旁边。“你的胆子太小了，你扮‘黑狗’简直不像。你昨天不是把那几句话背得很熟吗？怎么上台去就背不出来了。要不是朱先生提醒你，恐怕你还背不完嘞！”哥哥温和地说着，没有一点责备的口气。
觉慧脸红了。他着急地说：“不晓得什么缘故，我一上讲台心就慌了。好像有好多人的眼光在看我，我恨不得把所有的话一字不遗漏地说出来……”一阵风把他手里的伞吹得旋转起来，他连忙闭上嘴，用力捏紧伞柄。这一阵风马上就过去了。路中间已经堆积了落下来未融化的雪，望过去，白皑皑的，上面留着重重叠叠的新旧脚迹，常常是一步踏在一步上面，新的掩盖了旧的。
“我恨不得把全篇的话一字不遗漏地背了出来，”觉慧把刚才中断了的话接着说下去；“可是一开口，什么话都忘掉了，连平日记得最熟的几句，这时候也记不起来。一定要等朱先生提一两个字，我才可以说下去。不晓得将来正式上演的时候是不是还是这样。要是那时候也是跟现在一样地说不出，那才丢脸嘞！”孩子似的天真的脸上现出了严肃的表情。脚步踏在雪地上，软软的，发出轻松的叫声。
“三弟，你不要怕，”觉民安慰道，“再练习两三次，你就会记得很熟的。你只管放胆地去做。……老实说，朱先生把《宝岛》①改编成剧本，就编得不好，演出来恐怕不会有什么好成绩。”
觉慧不作声了。他感激哥哥的友爱。他在想要怎样才能够把那一幕戏演得好，博得来宾和同学们的称赞，讨得哥哥的欢喜。他这样想着，过了好些时候，他觉得自己渐渐地进入了一个奇异的境界。忽然他眼前的一切全改变了。在前面就是那个称为“彭保大将”的旅馆，他的老朋友毕尔就住在那里。他，有着江湖气质的“黑狗”，在失去了两根手指、经历了许多变故以后，终于找到了毕尔的踪迹，他心里交织着复仇的欢喜和莫名的恐怖。他盘算着，怎样去见毕尔，对他说些什么话，又如何责备他弃信背盟隐匿宝藏，失了江湖上的信义。这样想着，平时记熟了的剧本中的英语便自然地涌到脑子里来了。他醒悟似地欢叫起来：“二哥，我懂得了！”
觉民惊讶地看他一眼，问道：“什么事情？你这样高兴！”
“二哥，我现在才晓得演戏的奥妙了，”觉慧带着幼稚的得意的笑容说。“我想着，仿佛我自己就是‘黑狗’一样，于是话自然地流露了出来，并不要我费力思索。”
“对的，演戏正是要这样，”觉民微笑地说。“你既然明白了这一层，你一定会成功的。……现在雪很小了，把伞收起来罢。刮着这样的风，打伞很吃力。”他便抖落了伞上的雪，收了伞。觉慧也把伞收起了。两个人并排走着，伞架在肩上，身子靠得很近。
雪已经住了，风也渐渐地减轻了它的威势。墙头和屋顶上都积了很厚的雪，在灰暗的暮色里闪闪地发亮。几家灯烛辉煌的店铺夹杂在黑漆大门的公馆中间，点缀了这条寂寞的街道，在这寒冷的冬日的傍晚，多少散布了一点温暖与光明。
“三弟，你觉得冷吗？”觉民忽然关心地问。
“不，我很暖和，在路上谈着话，一点也不觉得冷。”
“那么，你为什么发抖？”
“因为我很激动。我激动的时候都是这样，我总是发抖，我的心跳得厉害。我想到演戏的事情，我就紧张。老实说，我很希望成功。二哥，你不笑我幼稚吗？”觉慧说着，掉过头去望了觉民一眼。
“三弟，”觉民同情地对觉慧说。“不，一点也不。我也是这样。我也很希望成功。我们都是一样。所以在课堂上先生的称赞，即使是一句简单的话，不论哪一个听到也会高兴。”
“对，你说得不错，”弟弟的身子更挨近了哥哥的，两个人一块儿向前走着，忘却了寒冷，忘却了风雪，忘却了夜。
“二哥，你真好，”觉慧望着觉民的脸，露出天真的微笑。觉民也掉过头看觉慧的发光的眼睛，微笑一下，然后慢慢地说：“你也好。”过后，他又向四周一望，知道就要到家了，便说：“三弟，快走，转弯就到家了。”
觉慧点了点头，于是两个人加速了脚步，一转眼就走入了一条更清静的街道。
街灯已经燃起来了，方形的玻璃罩子里，清油灯的光在寒风中显得更孤寂，灯柱的影子淡淡地躺在雪地上。街中寥寥的几个行人匆忙地走着，留了一些脚印在雪上，就默默地消失了。深深的脚迹疲倦地睡在那里，也不想动一动，直到新的脚来压在它们的身上，它们才发出一阵低微的叹声，被压碎成了奇怪的形状，于是在这一白无际的长街上，不再有清清楚楚的脚印了，在那里只有大的和小的黑洞。
有着黑漆大门的公馆静寂地并排立在寒风里。两个永远沉默的石狮子蹲在门口。门开着，好像一只怪兽的大口。里面是一个黑洞，这里面有什么东西，谁也望不见。每个公馆都经过了相当长的年代，或是更换了几个姓。每一个公馆都有它自己的秘密。大门上的黑漆脱落了，又涂上新的，虽然经过了这些改变，可是它们的秘密依旧不让外面的人知道。
走到了这条街的中段，在一所更大的公馆的门前，弟兄两个站住了。他们把皮鞋在石阶上擦了几下，抖了抖身上的雪水，便提着伞大步走了进去。他们的脚步声很快地消失在黑洞里面。门前又恢复了先前的静寂。这所公馆和别的公馆一样，门口也有一对石狮子，屋檐下也挂着一对大的红纸灯笼，只是门前台阶下多一对长方形大石缸，门墙上挂着一副木对联，红漆底子上现出八个隶书黑字：“国恩家庆，人寿年丰。”两扇大门开在里面，门上各站了一位手执大刀的顶天立地的彩色门神。
The wind blew fiercely, and snowflakes danced in the air like torn cotton wadding, drifting aimlessly in all directions. Along both sides of the street, white paths formed at the base of the walls, as if bordering the cement flagstone road in the middle with two wide bands.
On the street there were pedestrians and sedan chairs carried by two men. They could not withstand the wind and snow, and showed signs of shrinking back. The snowflakes fell more and more heavily, spreading a white blur across the sky, falling everywhere – on umbrellas, on the tops of sedan chairs, on the bamboo hats of the chair bearers, on the faces of pedestrians.
The wind played with the umbrellas, blowing them to tilt in all directions, and once or twice even snatching them from the hands of pedestrians. The wind howled furiously in the air, its sound mournful and shrill, mixing with the footsteps on the snowy ground to create a strange kind of music. This music stung the ears of the pedestrians, as if warning them: the wind and snow would rule the world forever, and the bright spring would never return.
Evening had already arrived, but the lamps along the road had not yet been lit. Everything on the street gradually disappeared into the gray dusk. The road was covered with water and mud. The air was cold. One hope encouraged the pedestrians struggling along the quiet street – that was a warm, bright home.
‘Third Brother, walk faster,’ said an eighteen-year-old youth, holding an umbrella in one hand and lifting the hem of his cotton robe with the other, turning his head to look behind him. His round face was flushed red from the cold, and he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose.
The younger brother walking behind was a youth of similar build, dressed in similar clothing. He was slightly younger, and his face was thinner, but his eyes were remarkably bright.
‘Don’t worry, we’re almost there… Second Brother, you had the best performance in today’s rehearsal. Your English was natural and fluent. You played Dr. Lee very well,’ he said in an enthusiastic tone, immediately quickening his pace as mud splashed onto his trouser legs.
‘It’s nothing special, I’m just a bit bolder,’ the older brother Gao Juemin said with a smile, stopping to let his younger brother Gao Juehui catch up to walk beside him. ‘You’re too timid. Your portrayal of “Black Dog” wasn’t convincing at all. Didn’t you memorize those lines perfectly yesterday? How come you couldn’t remember them once you got on stage? If Mr. Zhu hadn’t prompted you, I’m afraid you wouldn’t have gotten through it!’ the older brother said gently, without a hint of reproach in his tone.
Juehui’s face turned red. He said anxiously, ‘I don’t know why, but the moment I got on the platform, my heart started racing. It felt like so many eyes were watching me. I desperately wanted to recite every single word without missing any…’ A gust of wind spun the umbrella in his hand, and he quickly closed his mouth, gripping the handle tightly. The gust passed quickly. In the middle of the road, unmelted snow had accumulated, looking white and pristine, with overlapping footprints both old and new – often one step treading upon another, the new covering the old.
‘I desperately wanted to recite the entire passage without missing a single word,’ Juehui continued where he had left off. ‘But the moment I opened my mouth, I forgot everything, even the lines I knew best. I couldn’t remember them at all. I had to wait for Mr. Zhu to prompt me with a word or two before I could continue. I wonder if it will be the same during the actual performance. If I still can’t speak then like now, how embarrassing that would be!’ A serious expression appeared on his childlike, innocent face. Their footsteps fell softly on the snow, making light crunching sounds.
‘Third Brother, don’t be afraid,’ Juemin said reassuringly. ‘After two or three more rehearsals, you’ll know it perfectly. Just be bold and go for it… To be honest, Mr. Zhu’s adaptation of “Treasure Island” into a play wasn’t done well. The performance probably won’t turn out great anyway.’
Juehui fell silent. He felt grateful for his brother’s kindness. He was thinking about how to perform that scene well, to win praise from the guests and classmates, and to please his brother. As he thought this way, after quite some time, he felt himself gradually entering a strange realm. Suddenly everything before his eyes changed completely. Ahead was the inn called ‘Admiral Benbow,’ where his old friend Bill lived. He, ‘Black Dog’ with the temperament of a wanderer, after losing two fingers and experiencing many hardships, had finally found Bill’s whereabouts. His heart was filled with a mixture of vengeful joy and inexplicable terror. He calculated how to meet Bill, what to say to him, and how to reproach him for breaking his word, betraying their pact, and hiding the treasure – losing all honor among their kind. Thinking this way, the English lines from the script that he had memorized came naturally flooding into his mind. He exclaimed as if awakening: ‘Second Brother, I understand now!’
Juemin looked at him in surprise and asked, ‘What is it? Why are you so happy!’
‘Second Brother, I finally understand the secret of acting,’ Juehui said with a naive, triumphant smile. ‘I imagined that I myself was “Black Dog,” and then the words flowed out naturally, without any effort to think.’
‘That’s right, that’s exactly how acting should be,’ Juemin said with a smile. ‘Now that you understand this, you’re sure to succeed… The snow has lightened now, let’s close the umbrellas. It’s exhausting to hold them open in this wind.’ He shook the snow off his umbrella and closed it. Juehui also closed his umbrella. The two walked side by side, umbrellas resting on their shoulders, their bodies close together.
The snow had stopped, and the wind had gradually lost its force. Thick snow had accumulated on the tops of walls and rooftops, gleaming faintly in the gray dusk. A few brightly lit shops interspersed among the mansions with their black-lacquered gates adorned this lonely street, spreading a little warmth and light on this cold winter evening.
‘Third Brother, do you feel cold?’ Juemin suddenly asked with concern.
‘No, I feel quite warm. Talking on the road, I don’t feel cold at all.’
‘Then why are you trembling?’
‘Because I’m excited. I always tremble when I’m excited, and my heart beats hard. When I think about the play, I get nervous. To be honest, I really want to succeed. Second Brother, don’t you think I’m being childish?’ Juehui said, turning his head to glance at Juemin.
‘Third Brother,’ Juemin said sympathetically to Juehui. ‘No, not at all. I’m the same way. I also want very much to succeed. We’re all alike. That’s why even a simple word of praise from a teacher in class makes anyone who hears it happy.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ the younger brother said, moving closer to his older brother, and the two walked forward together, forgetting the cold, forgetting the wind and snow, forgetting the night.
‘Second Brother, you’re so kind,’ Juehui said, looking at Juemin’s face with an innocent smile. Juemin also turned to look at Juehui’s shining eyes, smiled briefly, then said slowly, ‘So are you.’ After that, he looked around, realized they were almost home, and said, ‘Third Brother, hurry up. Just around the corner and we’ll be home.’
Juehui nodded, and the two quickened their pace. In the blink of an eye, they had turned into an even quieter street.
The street lamps had been lit. Inside the square glass lanterns, the vegetable oil lamps seemed even lonelier in the cold wind. The shadows of the lamp posts lay faintly on the snow. The few pedestrians on the street hurried along, leaving some footprints in the snow before silently disappearing. The deep footprints lay there wearily, not wanting to move at all, until new feet pressed down upon them. Only then did they let out a faint sigh, crushed into strange shapes. And so, on this endless white street, there were no longer any clear footprints – only large and small dark holes.
Mansions with black-lacquered gates stood silently side by side in the cold wind. Two eternally silent stone lions crouched at each entrance. The gates stood open like the gaping mouths of monsters. Inside was a dark void, and no one could see what lay within. Each mansion had stood for a considerable number of years, or had changed hands through several families. Each mansion had its own secrets. The black lacquer on the gates had peeled off and been repainted, but despite these changes, their secrets were still not revealed to outsiders.
Reaching the middle of this street, the two brothers stopped in front of an even larger mansion. They scraped their leather shoes on the stone steps a few times, shook the melted snow off their bodies, and carrying their umbrellas, walked inside with big strides. The sound of their footsteps quickly disappeared into the dark void. The entrance returned to its former silence. This mansion was like the others – it too had a pair of stone lions at the gate and a pair of large red paper lanterns hanging under the eaves. The only difference was that there was an additional pair of large rectangular stone basins at the foot of the steps, and a wooden couplet hung on the gate wall, with eight characters in clerical script appearing against a red-lacquered background: ‘Grace from the nation, celebration in the family; Long life to the people, abundant harvest for the year.’ The two large doors opened inward, and on each door stood a towering, colorful door god holding a large sword.