When Van Gulik published his first translation of a Judge Dee story in 1949, he suggested that a modern writer of detective stories might try his hand at a novel in the Chinese mode for the day's readers. Because nobody accepted this challenge, Van Gulik decided to undertake the task himself, even though he had no previous experience in writing fiction. Originally he intended to show the reading public of Japan and China how much better the traditional stories were than those translated from Western originals then being sold in the stalls of Tokyo and Shanghai. He wrote his first two novels in English as working drafts for versions that he intended ultimately to publish in Japanese and Chinese. When his Western friends exhibited enthusiasm for this new type of detective story, he decided to continue writing in English, another foreign language in which he had become highly proficient.
The giant step from scholarly research and translation to imaginative writing was one that Van Gulik made decisively and successfully. His former involvement with unfrequented paths of scholarly research proved to be splendid preparation for his leap into the writing of atmospheric Chinese detective stories. Now it was no longer necessary to stick to precise historical facts and texts; accuracy of background and realistic portrayal of life in traditional China had become paramount. While using Judge Dee as a stock character, Van Gulik could draw freely upon the plots, stories, and data offered by the whole body of Chinese literature. And to these he could easily add fascinating and titillating embellishments from his own scholarly researches and reading. He also enlivened the novels with his own imaginary maps and with his drawings of Chinese scenes based on sixteenth-century pictorial block prints.
Van Gulik's earlier Judge Dee stories, prepared between 1950 and 1958, are closer to Chinese originals than are those he wrote subsequently. Five in number, these early novels include The Chinese Bell Murders and The Chinese Nail Murders now reproduced in new editions. Van Gulik wrote the Bell Murders in Tokyo during 1950 as the first of his efforts; the Nail Murders he wrote in Beirut in 1956. He ordinarily chose his plots and characters while relaxing from official duties, and laid out the preliminary topography as he prepared a map of an imaginary city. In the Bell Murders all three plots were taken directly from Chinese stories; in the other Judge Dee books Van Gulik himself supplied most of the themes and plots. Once the actual writing began, it normally took him about six weeks to complete a novel.
From the beginning Van Gulik was aware of the limitations of traditional Chinese prose fiction. Stories of murder, adultery, mystery, and violence were sure to appeal to a Western audience which never seemed to be sated by such offerings. But other features of Chinese colloquial fiction were not likely to be so well received. The criminal's identity was ordinarily revealed at the beginning of Chinese stories; out of deference to Western custom Van Gulik puts the solution near the end. Chinese materials were too often drawn from unfamiliar customs and beliefs, and Chinese authors too often content to solve a puzzling mystery by calling for supernatural knowledge or intervention. Where Westerners would expect morals to be drawn or motivations clarified, the Chinese authors rarely made these matters explicit. Character portrayal in Chinese novels was often limited to depiction of social types. Practically no effort was made to analyze or develop individual character and to evaluate the influence of environment or background upon it.
Judge Dee himself, as depicted in the Chinese stories, was a character utterly foreign to Westerners. To make him more credible Van Gulik sought to make him more human. Occasionally he smiles, becomes excited in the presence of an attractive woman, or feels unsure of himself and his decisions. Van Gulik also plays down Dee 's strict Confucian view of the world, which included an unshakable faith in the superiority of everything Chinese and a disdain for all foreigners, a steadfast belief in all aspects of filial piety, a matter-of-fact attitude toward torture, and an unrelenting hostility to Buddhism and Taoism. While he could not completely ignore these traditional attributes, Van Gulik preferred to soften his Judge's attitudes and to add to his human dimension by making him a devoted family man, a connoisseur of arts and letters, and a deeply religious person. Normally the Judge also tries to solve crimes rationally and without intervention at critical moments from the netherworld.
While consciously adapting his stories to the Western audience, Van Gulik preserved extraordinarily well the way of life of imperial China. The reader will appreciate the part played in that society by family when Dee chastizes the father for not watching more closely over the virtue of his daughter. He will come to understand the role of the student, his privileges and responsibilities to society, and the relation of education to morality. He will also learn from Dee that Buddhist monks typically lust for women and are crafty in politics, that Tartars are untrustworthy and, like Taoists, given to black magic, and that southerners differ greatly from northerners in spoken language and customs. The smallest items-ink stones, nails in a Tartar shoe, the gongs of Taoist monks, door knobs-are brought into the stories at strategic points in the plot to give Van Gulik the opportunity to enlighten the Western reader about these strange objects and their functions. No foreign reader can escape a feeling for the importance in China of the written language and of written records and documents; for the prevalence of social corporations unfamiliar to Westerners, such as the Beggar's Guild; or for the exaggerated concern with proper ceremony and polite forms of address. The seamy side of life is also exposed by reference to the sale of female children into slavery and by the prevalence of prostitution. Asides on foreign trade, on the imperial salt monopoly, on "squeeze" or petty bribery, and on cooking add to the realism of the stories. The role of women is depicted as limited to homemaking, sex, handicrafts, and childrearing.
The Judge Dee stories should not be taken as completely accurate depictions of life in imperial China. For one thing, they are anachronistic. The historical Judge Dee lived in the seventh century, but most of the Chinese stories about him were written down in the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries and reflect the standards and practices current then. Van Gulik based his adaptations on these later collections. Although he was a close student of the Ming and Ch'ing dynasties, the Dutch scholar's experiences with life in China were limited to a few brief visits and to several years' stay during the Second World War. He idealizes the China which existed before the empire had been shaken by the disruptive influences of the West and Japan. He sees imperial China most often from the viewpoint of the Confucian gentry for whose way of life he had respect and affection.
Still, these stories, for all their limitations and biases, provide relatively accurate portrayals of certain aspects of everyday life in imperial China. Van Gulik's personal observations were made in a pre-Communist era when the old ways were still followed in the villages and towns and when the magistrate was still dominant in local affairs. Highly sensitive to the stuff of everyday life, Van Gulik was not an ordinary observer of the Chinese scene. From his studies and his experience with the highest echelons of government he acquired qualifications for understanding traditional China that are no longer part of the equipment of specialists. No amount of reading in classical texts, gazeteers, dynastic histories, or diplomatic documents will by itself provide depth of understanding about the basic workings of life in traditional China. For the Westerner, direct translations of Chinese popular tales are often too foreign in nature and leave references to common matters too frequently unexplained for full comprehension. The insights and elucidations offered by Van Gulik provide the Westerner with a painless and pleasant introduction to premodern China and with an understanding of how different, yet sometimes how similar, are the peoples and societies of China and the West. And, besides, these are entertaining stories and should be appreciated simply for their own sake.
Donald F. Lach
FOR FURTHER READING
"Necrology of R. H. van Gulik (1910-1967)." T'oung pao 54 (1968): 116-24. Unsigned but probably by A. F. P. Hulsewe. At the end of the article appears a comprehensive but incomple
te bibliography of Van Gulik's works, including the Judge Dee books.
Bishop, John L. "Some Limitations of Chinese Fiction." Studies in Chinese Literature, Harvard-Yenching Institute Studies, no. 21, pp. 237-45. Cambridge, Mass., 1966.
Hayden, George A. "The Judge Pao Plays of the Yuan Dynasty." Ph.D. dissertation, Stanford University, 1972.
Lin Yu-tang. Lady Wu: A True Story. London, I937-(A historical biography in which Judge Dee (here written "Di") figures.
Prousek, J. "Researches into the Beginnings of the Chinese Popular Novel." Archiv Orientdlni (Prague) 11 (1939): 9I-I32-
Shih Chung-wen. The Golden Age of Chinese Drama: Yiian Tsa-chii. Princeton 1976. Note especially pp. 100-112, on social justice in the courtroom stories.
Starrett, Vincent. "Some Chinese Detective Stories." In Bookman's Holiday, pp. 3-26. New York, 1942.
Van Gulik, Robert H. "Bibliography of Dr. R. H. van Gulik." Reproduced typescript. Boston [ca. 1970]. Compiled for the benefit of the Boston University Libraries-Mugar Memorial Library "Robert van Gulik Collection."
See also the postscripts to the various Judge Dee books, in which Van Gulik discusses the traditional Chinese system of justice, his sources for the Dee stories, and his working methods.
First Chapter:
A CONNOISSEUR HAS A STRANGE EXPERIENCE IN A CURIO SHOP; JUDGE DEE BEGINS HIS DUTIES AS MAGISTRATE OF POO-YANG
A judge must he as a father and mother to the people,
Cherishing the good and loyal, helping the sick and old.
Though meting out stern punishment to every criminal,
Prevention, not correction, should be his primary aim.
It is now six years since I withdrew from the prosperous tea firm inherited from my father, and settled down to peaceful retirement in our country villa outside the eastern city gate. There I at last found time to devote myself entirely to my favourite pastime, namely collecting material on the history of crime and detection.
Since under our present glorious Ming Dynasty peace and order prevail in the Empire and crimes and deeds of violence are of rare occurrence, I soon found that it was the past I had to turn to for data on mysterious misdeeds and their clever solution by perspicacious magistrates. Engaged in this absorbing study I had in the course of the years built up a remarkable collection of authentic documents relating to famous criminal cases, weapons actually employed in cruel murders, antique burglar tools and numerous other relics pertaining to the history of crime.
One of my most treasured items was a gavel, an oblong piece of blackwood, many centuries ago actually used by Judge Dee, our famous master-detective. On this gavel was engraved the poem quoted here above. The records state that Judge Dee always used this gavel when presiding at the tribunal so as to be constantly reminded of his solemn duties to the state and the people.
I quote the poem from memory, because I do not have that gavel any more. The horrifying experience I had this summer, about two months ago, made me abandon once and for all my criminological researches, and dispose of my entire collection of objects connected with gory misdeeds of the past. I have now transferred my interest to the collecting of celadon porcelain, and find this sedate hobby eminently suited to my fundamentally peace-loving disposition.
However, there is still one thing I must do before I can really settle down to a tranquil life. I must rid myself of all those haunting memories that today still come to disturb my sleep. To free myself of that recurring nightmare I must disclose the strange secrets that were revealed to me in so weird a manner, then and then only shall I be able to relegate to oblivion for ever the horrible experience that shocked me so deeply and brought me to the verge of insanity.
On this exceptionally fine autumn morning, sitting in my elegant garden pavilion and admiring the grace of my two favourite concubines as they tend the chrysanthemums with their slender hands-in these serene surroundings I at last dare to think back to what happened that fateful day.
It was late in the afternoon on the ninth day of the 8th moon-for ever that date shall remain engraved on my memory. It had been extremely hot at midday and later the weather became ever more sultry. I felt depressed and restless, and finally decided to go out in my palankeen. When my bearers asked me where to, on the spur of the moment I told them to take me to Liu's curio shop.
This shop that bears the lofty name of 'The Golden Dragon,' stands opposite the Temple of Confucius. Liu, the owner, is a greedy rascal, but he certainly knows his trade and often found me interesting curios relating to the history of crime and detection. I used to spend many a happy hour in his well-stocked shop.
When I had entered I only saw Liu's assistant. He told me that Liu was not feeling very well; he was upstairs, in the room where he keeps his more valuable items.
I found Liu there in a surly temper, complaining of a headache. He had closed the shutters in an attempt to keep out the stifling heat. In this semi-darkness the familiar room seemed strange and hostile to me, I thought of leaving then and there. But remembering the heat outside, I decided that I had better tarry awhile and have Liu show me a few things. Thus I sat down in the large arm-chair, vigorously fanning myself with my fan of crane-feathers.
Liu muttered something about not having anything special to show me. After having looked around aimlessly for a few moments, he took from a corner a black-lacquered mirror stand and placed it on the table before me.
When he had dusted it I saw that it was an ordinary cap-mirror, that is to say a mirror of polished silver mounted on top of a square box. Such a mirror is used by officials for adjusting their black gauze cap on their head. Judging by the tiny cracks that covered its lacquer frame, it seemed a fairly old specimen; but such are quite common and of slight value to the connoisseur.
Suddenly, however, my eye fell on a line of small characters inlaid in silver along the frame. Leaning forward I read: 'Property of the Dee official residence, Poo-yang'
With difficulty I suppressed an exclamation of astonished delight. For that must have been the cap-mirror of no one else than our famous Judge Dee! I recalled that according to the ancient historical records Judge Dee, while serving as magistrate of Poo-yang, a small district in Kiangsu Province, had unravelled with uncanny skill at least three mysterious crimes. Unfortunately, however, the details of those exploits have not been preserved. Since the surname Dee is not commonly met with, it was certain that this cap-mirror had indeed belonged to Judge Dee. All my lassitude had gone. Silently I blessed Liu's ignorance which had prevented him from identifying this priceless relic of one of the greatest detectives that ever lived in our Flowery Empire.
Assuming a laboriously casual air I leaned back in the chair and told Liu to bring me a cup of tea. As soon as he had gone downstairs I jumped up and, bending over the cap-mirror, examined it eagerly. Idly pulling out the drawer in the box under the mirror, I saw inside a folded judge's cap of black gauze!
I carefully unfolded the decaying silk. A cloud of fine dust descended from its seams. Apart from some moth holes the cap was still intact. I raised it reverently in my trembling hands, for this was the very cap the great Judge Dee had worn when presiding over the tribunal.
Only August Heaven knows what wanton whim made me lift this precious relic and place it on my own undeserving head. I looked in the mirror to see how it fitted me. Since age had dulled the polished surface it reflected only a dark shadow. Suddenly, however, this shadow assumed a definite shape. I saw a quite unfamiliar, haggard face staring at me with burning eyes.
That very moment a deafening thunderclap resounded in my ears. Everything went dark, I seemed to be falling down into a bottomless pit. I lost all notion of place and time.
I found myself floating through a mass of thick clouds. They gradually assumed human shape, I vaguely discerned a naked girl being brutally attacked by a man whose face I could not see. I wanted to rush to her aid but I could not move. I wanted to scream for help but no sound came from my lips. Then I was whirled through a succession
of uncounted other hair-raising experiences, now a powerless spectator, then a tormented victim. When I was slowly sinking down in an evil-smelling pool of stagnant water, two comely girls came
A STRANGE EXPERIENCE IN A CURIO SHOP
to my rescue, they faintly resembled my two favourite concubines. But just when I was going to grasp their outstretched hands, a strong current bore me away, I was swirled round and round in a foaming vortex. I was in its centre, being slowly sucked down. When I came to I found myself confined in a dark, narrow space while a crushing weight was pressing me down with relentless force. I tried frantically to escape from under it, but all around my groping fingers met only a smooth iron wall. Just when I was suffocating the pressure was released and I greedily filled my lungs with fresh air. But when I tried to move I found to my horror that I was pinned spread-eagled to the floor. Thick ropes were attached to my wrists and ankles, their ends disappeared in a grey mist. I felt the ropes tightening, an excruciating pain pervaded all my limbs. A nameless terror constricted my heart. I knew that my body was slowly being torn asunder! I started to scream in agony. Then I woke up.
The Chinese Bell Murders Page 2