Remembering David Hawkes

Remembering David Hawkes

The Oxford academic carried a Chinese masterpiece across cultural boundaries and presented it to British eyes and minds in its original flavour

David Hawkes: so enchanted by the kaleidoscopic view of Chinese society in Red Mansions that translating it became his lifelong passion

Returning to London after summer break, I was shocked to learn of the passing of David Hawkes. An Oxford scholar of classical Chinese literature, he was renowned for his translation of a much-loved Chinese literary classic, A Dream of Red Mansions - or The Story of the Stone, as he translated it.

The last time I saw him was on a warm, sunny afternoon last April, when I called on him at his Oxford home, a commonplace two-storey house easily missed when passing by. Coming out of a narrow passageway, he greeted me in the traditional Chinese way: both hands held together to his chest and all smiles. He said \to my humble home,\

We continued speaking in Chinese after sitting down in his somewhat crowded sitting room. Looking at the books scattered about - mostly traditional literary works in Chinese alongside a handful of contemporary novels - I began to understand how he had managed to remain fluent in Chinese 58 years after returning from studying in China. \hint of regret in his tone. His wife Jean served warm English tea and home-baked biscuits. The conversation went on around Red Mansions, as the book is affectionately known.

More than 60 years ago, Hawkes first borrowed Red Mansions from his Chinese

classmate Qiu Kean at Oxford. He was so enchanted by the saga of the characters and the kaleidoscopic view of Chinese society which the book revealed that it became his lifelong passion. In 1970, he embarked on an English translation; a monumental task that took 10 years to complete. In order to concentrate on it, he resigned from his chair at Oxford - an act of remarkable dedication.

Red Mansions features two intertwined plot lines. One is the sad but romantic love story of a young nobleman, depicting the women - stunningly beautiful and but

ill-fated - who surround him, and his struggles within the cocoon of feudal rules. The second involves the decline and fall of the noble family, and reflects the dramatic social upheavals of 18th-century China. Cao Xueqin, the author, never finished the book, leaving many unsolved mysteries which remain a source of interest for academics to this day. A word – reddologists - has been coined for the scholars devoted to the study of the Red Mansions.

Translating the novel is almost a mission impossible - not only because of its

quintessential Chinese character, but also because of its philosophical depth. What's more, many of the ideas are only hinted at or symbolized through the poems and

songs that run through the narrative. I first read it as a teenager, have reread it twice in later years and am still unsure how much I missed. For Hawkes, the challenge was all the greater: he also faced the problem of bridging two vastly different cultures and

ways of life. Yet Hawkes was bold enough to maintain that the principle he followed was to translate everything - even puns.

Hawkes certainly fulfilled his aim. His mastery of classical Chinese and superb

rhetorical skills in the English language, alongside his tireless effort, made it possible for him to carry this masterpiece across cultural boundaries and present it to British eyes and minds in its original flavour. To me, his English version is a joy to read; I particularly admire his translation of the opening poem, which carries the central theme of the novel. The full meaning of the poem is revealed only at the end of the story when the pampered young man is reduced from nobility to a poor and lonely outcast, and comes to realize that good times in life are but a fleeting dream. Hawkes tackled this poem beautifully. Let me quote a few lines: \But with ambition won't have done, have done.\\In grassy graves they lie now, every one.\

There were, of course, points at which Hawkes was less successful. His reluctance to use the word \referring as it does in Chinese culture to all the good things in life: youth, love, prosperity, and nobility. He avoided 'red' in the title of the book which he translated into The Story of the Stone, rather than Dream of Red Mansions. He also translated the hero's residence as House of Green Delight, instead of Happy Red Court as its Chinese name literally suggests.

He did so probably in order to accommodate his own cultural environment. As he remarked: \novel has given me, I shall not have lived in vain\hailed his work as \his translation did not catch on with the wider British readers. He was lonely in his love of Red Mansions.

The sunlight came through the small window of Hawkes' sitting room during my visit. Fondly remembering his life in Beijing, he told us how he arrived in 1948 after a month-long journey and began studying ancient Chinese literature - a hard course, even for Chinese. Turning the pages of an album of black and white photos, he talked about the fun and friends he had at Beijing University. He was a handsome boy in the photos. He was even there with the crowd in 1949 when Chairman Mao Zedong proclaimed the founding of New China on the Tiananmen Rostrum. He had to leave in 1951 with his pregnant wife when the Korean War broke out. Caught by successive events, he never returned. But his lifelong devotion to the Chinese language and literature remained with him until the last day.

He will always be remembered for bringing the Chinese people's favourite classical novel closer to western readers, making it readable and understandable, and for building a cultural bridge between the Chinese and British people.