An unquenchable thirst for autumn: Yu Dafu’s short story on the upcoming season
People take photos of golden ginkgo leaves in a ginkgo forest in Beijing, capital of China, Nov 5, 2012. [Photo/Xinhua] |
Autumn is a little ways off on this side of the world but on days where the sun remains high in the sky, its rays sending the world into a frenzy of sweat and discomfort, thoughts of fall are a cool salve to my heat-addled mind. In the spirit of the upcoming season, I decided to conduct a search for some of the most popular autumn-themed short stories and works of prose from China’s renowned authors and poets.
As a student currently in my third year of Chinese study, I am doing my best to improve my language abilities, and hope to use this opportunity to discuss and analyze my Chinese readings in English. All my thoughts and opinions are informed by my study and my personal experiences.
Yu Dafu (1896 – 1945), a poet and novelist, wrote one of China’s most well known literary pieces about fall in his work, Autumn in the Ancient Capital. This non-fiction piece of prose is a personal narrative of Yu Dafu’s perspective on autumn time in China. This was actually referred to me by one of my creative writing professors. She encouraged me to pay extra attention to Yu Dafu’s colorful descriptions of nature and the weather. The death rays of heat that has been grilling Beijing alive for the last couple of weeks have left me in want of all things cool and soothing.
The feelings and images invoked by Yu Dafu in his short story were unique. Though he describes how fall blooms in the south of China, the northern autumns seem to have captured his heart. Yu Dafu puts words to sensations that are almost universal to those who have experienced fall. The soundless, scentless sensation of walking on a bed of fallen leaves and petals is one descriptor that stands out most clearly to me. His words immediately transported me to my former home in upstate New York, where I would take long walks on grey days, wet concrete and leaves firm beneath my boots. Yu’s words have a way of conjuring not only nostalgia for a certain time, but also for a particular season.
Yu Dafu however, is most enthralled by the autumns in Beijing, his ancient capital. Not only does he describe the weather, with sweet rain and cool winds, but he also describes the sounds of locusts that dwell in the hidden branches of trees. The entire work is devoted to one’s bond with nature, and how both separate yet undivided one can be with the great unknown. After reading Yu Dafu’s account of lotus flowers, persimmons, and grapes, I cannot help but wonder what he would think of Beijing now, with the ceaseless traffic, curling vines atop impossibly high buildings, and the haze of smog that reflects fractured rays of light at sundown.
Aside from the intricate descriptions of nature aside, he points out that most Western and Eastern writers are inspired by the deep well of emotion that autumnbrings. What is it about autumn that summons feeling from us? People the world over seem similarly captivated by the lonely taste of fall. What does autumn mean to us? What does it mean to you? Everyone’s answer is utterly unique.
Outside of the natural sights and changes in weather, Yu Dafu speaks of his love for the flavors and scents that emerge in a northern autumn. He writes of wine, steamed buns, and congee, images enough to make his readers salivate. At the very end of his piece, Yu Dafu writes that he would be willing to give two-thirds of his life away, in exchange for spending the rest of his life in a Beijing autumn.
Words like that have piqued the curiosity of this new Beijinger. As my first autumn in Beijing approaches, I wonder, will my thirst for fall soon rival that of Yu Dafu’s? I, for one, cannot wait to find out.
Story by Arianna James (Chen Qianru), currently a fourth year English Literature and Mandarin student from Macaulay Honors College at Hunter College in New York City. She is on her flagship program’s capstone year abroad in China, where she continues to study the Chinese language at Nanjing University. Arianna is now an editorial intern at China Daily. For more of her adventures and ponderings, join her network on LinkedIn.