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The precious times of the North throughout the four seasons: January, dreaming of the sweet cold new moon; February, missing peach blossoms; March, the cold of Lady Ban; April, dreaming of bathing in Muong stream; May, missing jujubes, plums, sticky rice wine and henna leaves; June, craving Hung Yen longans; July, the day of amnesty for the dead; August, the single leaf of the parasol tree falls, the world together governs autumn; September, new rice and roof-top birds; October, missing the north wind and drizzle; November, missing the days of weeping dragon lice; December, oh, missing the Tet market.
In the nostalgia of a person far from home, the memories of the homeland are so sparkling and beautiful. It seems that not every season but every month has a natural scene with unmistakable weather signs. Every transformation of creation takes place very vaguely, so one must be very sensitive to perceive it; it entails adaptation in the way of living, dressing, moving, thinking and feeling of people.
The first month of spring begins with a new moon “like a young girl, seemingly more beautiful than other months of the year: bright but not as splendid as the bright moon of autumn, beautiful but not as withered as the moon of November. The beauty of the moon in January is the beauty of a shy virgin, lifting the flower curtain on a high floor to look down to see who is her soul mate (…). The moonlight at that time is not yellow but white as milk, clear as hot spring water. Walking into that vague light, I feel like I am flying in boundless space”. And the sweet cold : “drizzle, cool wind,… on the clear sky there are rosy rays of light that vibrate like newly molted cicada wings (…). Late at night, the weather is still cold in a romantic and poetic way: although you still have to cover yourself with a cotton blanket, during the day you don’t need to wear warm clothes like at the end of December”.
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March with the cold of the Ban season, the season when trees sprout and "heaven and earth are fruitful"
reality is magic”:
“To say that it was still cold that month was not correct, and to say that it was no longer cold was also not correct. The sky was as clear as jade, the ground was as clean as reeds (…) suddenly pink clouds came from the east in the middle of a sky of a single color of blue. Behind the house, birds were chirping (…). He opened the door and looked outside and saw the leaves of the trees were clean and sparkling like in a beautiful color film:
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The night dew washes flowers, leaves, grass, and trees, and washes away the dust and sand from all the roads.
city".
The Ngau rain in July is “ unbearably sad”, because “it drizzles as if it wants to cut into our nerves, it stops for a while and then rains again, rains evenly on the roof, rains evenly on the bushes and grassy hills, sometimes it is completely silent but sometimes it pours down, then it rains evenly again… from one day to the next, from one night to the next, it is so boring that it is unbearable”.
Each month has a type of food, a typical rustic gift. These are gifts that you will remember for life after just one taste. February has the “absolutely wonderful” Viet Tri Anh Vu fish. April has “a vast, attractive, fascinating, and unique system” of tea: Lam tea, Ba Cot tea, Com tea, Dipstick tea, Black bean tea, Cau flower tea, etc. May has Loquat, Plum, Sticky Rice Wine and Henna leaves to eat and drink “unlimitedly, to the point of death”. June has Hung Yen longan “with flesh as white as ivory, thick, fragrant, and sweet as rock sugar”, so delicious that “heaven and earth are sad, ghosts and spirits are terrified!”. September has new rice, “scary and precious” roofed quail… there is no other food in the world that can compare!”. In October, there is Ba Giang rice, “the rice is boiled and eaten until you die”, eaten with sardines, “the fat and richness is definitely better than mackerel, and the sweet and fragrant meat, I bet, cannot be compared to grass carp or ditch fish”. In November, there is a dish of water bug oil with a strong and unpleasant smell, so not everyone can eat it, but once eaten, “you will be addicted like you are addicted to marijuana”; water bug meat has a “sweet, fatty, and refreshing taste… ordinary people can eat hundreds of them without getting bored”.
Elegant games also take place all year round during festivals, especially during the traditional New Year. These are games and festivals that captivate people, because behind the exciting atmosphere of the games is the accumulation of thousands of years of traditional cultural capital of the nation. Those cultural values have permeated deeply into space, time and in the blood of each person.
February, although no longer the "month of entertainment", is still bustling with festivals: "Just yesterday I went to Dong Da temple, today it is the King's temple festival; the thirteenth is Lim festival; on the full moon of the first lunar month I go to the temples to worship; then Tram temple, then go to Giay temple festival, then watch the sacrifice in Lang, go back through Giang Vo, turn to watch the procession at Hai Co temple; a few
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The next day, I went to Lo festival again, returned to see the procession at Thien Huong communal house, and stopped by Ung communal house to see.
worship the gods and at night watch Chinese opera at Bach Ma temple...".
In the summer, April has the pleasure of bathing in Muong streams "equal to the pleasure of visiting beautiful lands in spring, the pleasure of drinking yellow flower wine in autumn and the pleasure of reciting Snow White's poems in winter". Then in July there is the full moon day to pardon the dead, in August there is the Mid-Autumn Festival, making lanterns and listening to the drum song; in September there is the Double Ninth Festival with the custom of killing insects; in December there is the Tet market with exciting folk games,... Missing the Twelve not only recreates a vast cultural landscape in the Northern countryside, in the author's memory there are also vivid images of the family - a warm nest where the image of a woman always appears as the embodiment of the Vietnamese soul, of the noble spiritual qualities of Vietnamese women. That is the character Quy, the author's "good-natured and gentle" wife. That woman appears on Vu Bang's literary pages with a gentle and kind appearance, absolutely without any air of elegance or pride. She was seven years older than Vu Bang and when she married him, she was already the mother of four children. Their marriage was considered a love story. To be together, they had to bravely face and overcome many prejudices, prohibitions, and criticisms from both families, relatives, and friends. Vu Bang saw himself as a poor husband, blameworthy with too many bad habits. Thanks to the forgiving and kind heart of his virtuous wife, he had a warm family with peaceful and truly happy days:
“The days passed by easily. No worries about money, no schemes, no resentment, eating rau sang with salt and sesame was delicious. Occasionally, a new friend would come back from a trip and send a few bunches of rau sang, cook it plain or add a cake of caviar to make it richer, the couple would sit and enjoy it, feeling it was a bit more delicious than eating bird’s nest. Thank God, the children were also well-behaved. We didn’t have much money, but it was still considered to have a solid foundation.”
But the happy days were short-lived, the family reunion soon ended when he had to say goodbye to his wife and children to go to the South. It was thought that after two years there would be negotiations to unify the country, and that his wife and children would be reunited. Unexpectedly, the times changed, and the day of return seemed so far away. So many years of separation were so painful.
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Missing! Filled in the work is the passionate feelings towards his “dear wife, the little wife who loves her husband, the little wife who works day and night”. Missing is no longer a vague, abstract state, it is so intense that it bursts out into heart-rending cries, as if cutting into the flesh: “Missing so much, missing so much, missing so much”, “Oh, why do I miss so much… I love my wife so much… Kneel, where are you now?”. Until one day in October 1967, Vu Bang was shocked and in pain when he heard the news of his wife’s death. The short poem October, remembering the north wind and drizzle, is like a stick of incense lit to mourn, to remember his lifelong friend: “Waking up from his dream, the husband lay crying alone… crying silently, then sobbing, crying miserably as if he had never cried before (…). Well, that’s it. What else can I wish for, what else can I wait for, what else can I ask for?” Such a direct expression of feelings can easily give the impression of being noisy and fake. But not here, these are words of pain, of deep affection, which, because they cannot be uttered in words, overflow onto the page.
Writing about the same topic of culture and customs, but if in Hanoi's thirty-six streets , Thach Lam looked at, respected, felt sorry for and regretted the traditional values with the mindset of an insider, Vu Bang did not have that blessing. He wrote with the mood of a person far from his homeland, in the context of a divided country, not wanting to raise or affirm any ideology. All was just longing , endless, and painful for more than ten years (from 1960 to 1971). That main lyrical vein surged from the opening pages of the Autobiography . The longing and nostalgia seemed to stretch throughout space and overwhelm time:
“I miss everything about Hanoi, I miss everything about North Vietnam, I miss the rice fields with young girls, I miss the sound of a mother singing to her child on a summer afternoon; I miss the dracontomelon flowers falling at the beginning of Hang Trong street, I miss the almond fruit in Hai Hau falling on the banks of the canal, I miss the Linh Duong lotus with its fragrant scent filling the sky, I miss the Hung Yen longan, Vu Ban lychee; the Viet Tri anh vu fish, Lang custard apple, Van Phuoc grapefruit, Bo Ha orange, Sa Pa peach, I miss the way down”.
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The song "Nostalgia for the Twelve" encapsulates the heart's deep longing for the homeland and the wish for a peaceful tomorrow, when North and South will reunite as one family:
“So peaceful! Sitting and drinking a bowl of fresh tea made with rainwater, clear as amber, leisurely smoking a pipe of tobacco... dreaming of a day in the old garden of the old countryside where there would be days like this, with bamboo poles, gongs, firecrackers, human chess, tug of war, wrestling, cockfighting, with beautiful boys and girls wearing conical hats to cover half of their flowery faces to compare and date. Where are those days now? And when will those days still exist? ”
What is admirable is that although he was deeply nostalgic for his homeland and highly valued the cultural features of the North, Vu Bang's thoughts did not show any signs of discrimination or localism. While he was nostalgic for a beautiful past in his distant homeland, the author still sincerely loved and attached to the people and land of the South. Vu Bang's cultural sense always tended to compare between regions of the country to recognize the similarities and differences that have created a colorful picture of national identity:
“Southern fruits are so plentiful and delicious, why do they have to be beautifully displayed on plates to be delicious? I have seen many people on the bright and sunny days of Tet, going to a small shop, drinking a glass of rice wine, then eating a piece of pineapple or a few star fruit with fish sauce, and it is already “too delicious” (...). Along with the new-style Ao Dai replacing the old Ao Ba Ba, our brothers here, on Tet, have shown more solemnity than before in decorating their houses, eating and preparing. And when the Southerners are ready, they are as beautiful as fairies (...). Women drink xa xi, orange juice, sweet ginseng juice, and men at least know how to drink lave... Just seeing them drink makes me sick! Hey, Ba, give me a piece of banh tet. In the North, banh chung has salty fillings, sugar fillings, but here we also have banh tet with meat and banh tet with banana fillings...”.
The lasting appeal of the work "Remembering the Twelve" perhaps also stems from the beauty of a cultural personality?
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2.3.3.3. Thuong nho muoi thap was composed by Vu Bang “ in lieu of a few eulogies ”, a sacred gesture to commemorate his late wife. Therefore, readers can easily recognize in the work a rare carefulness and meticulousness from the way the title, epigraph, structure are set to the attention to each sentence and each image. The past is reconstructed through a flood of memories. Narrative and lyrical harmony are so natural and skillful. There are characters and details, but the story told is inclined towards emotions:
“Twenty years have passed since that last temple festival, but I will never forget that afternoon in mid-February of that year, when we sat together on the boat going down to Duc wharf, watching the kingfishers fishing on the crystal clear water. How strange is Huong Son! Now, there are nights when I lie awake, unable to sleep, and suddenly when I remember that scene of rolling mountains, water, and clouds, I realize that in my entire life I have never seen such a beautiful place: beautiful from the mountain crevices, tree roots, beautiful from the mountain rapids, reeds, beautiful from the birds and blades of grass.”
Although the author's nostalgia and love spans the twelve months of the year, the work is not structured in a linear manner, but mainly based on the flow of mood. The past and the present are always present and intertwined. The past is not an objective event or chronological event, so the authenticity of time is not given much attention. The lyrical character lingers in an endless stream of memories filled with feelings. Both space and time are tinged with nostalgia. All are just impressions, obsessions that are still preserved in memory. Not only remembering and recounting, the writer relives and experiences both the happiness and pain of his life.
A rather prominent feature of Vu Bang's writing style in "Thuong nho muoi thap" is his talent and erudition. The work is always full and overflowing with details and images of material and spiritual life. But the lyrical flow is not overwhelmed because it is opened by a delicate pen, accurately expressing the impressions and emotions brought by all the sensitive senses of the artist. The ability to observe sharply to record and remember events and phenomena rich in expression, along with the richness of life experience and knowledge, is revealed.
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The work is revealing, so it appeals to both the intellect and soul of the reader. Try reading it again.
Vu Bang's very interesting descriptions of sardines, a "strangely delicious" fish:
“In fact, sardines are not strange to the South, a land with ninety-three kinds of fish, shrimp, crab, and clam, delicious like barramundi, catfish, and strange like bream, catfish, and sailfish, and famous like snakehead fish, bamboo-leaf catfish, dog-eared catfish, and flag-eared catfish (…). Many people say: What do you like? Canned sardines are sold all year round, they are fragrant to eat, and the bones are soft and not fishy, so why bother buying them and making trouble! Those who say that are wrong. Canned fish called sardines are herring, herring, and American and Japanese sardines are dragonfly fish with whiskers on the edge and a long fin on the back that looks like a wing. Sardines (hareng) are also marine fish, but different: they are flat, have many small bones, and are round, usually as big as three fingers. Its characteristic is that it is very fatty. If you buy a kilo, take it home, cut both sides of the breast with a knife and fry it. Sometimes you will get a cup of yellow fat like the fat of a laying hen.
The sentences and tone in "Thuong nho muoi thap" are beautiful, rich in melody and poetic. It is almost difficult to recognize the author's use of artistic techniques in choosing words and constructing sentences. The poetic quality exudes naturally from the fresh scenery and warm human feelings: "The moon is so bright, my dear, just walking like this, all night long without getting bored. The moon spreads its fragrant scent on the road; the moon pins on the obedient hair of the rustling bamboo clumps; the moon smells of the inviting lips of the gently flowing river; the moon embraces the green breasts of the hills at night, filled with the scent of ripe sim...". The general tone is sad, but Vu Bang's literature does not lead to boredom but makes people love life more:
“The sadness of autumn is long, the sadness of autumn is numb, the sadness of autumn is depressing but not so lingering that it makes people tired of living. That is because the autumn wind is sad, but the autumn sky is beautiful, the most beautiful is the autumn moon, so beautiful that it makes people sad but still want to live, to enjoy the beauty that pervades the sky, trees, clouds and water - if you die, it would be such a waste!”
2.3.3.4. As is known, Vu Bang had two more essays on the subject of culture ( Delicious pieces of Hanoi - 1960 and Strange pieces of the South - 1969), but Missing the twelve is the most outstanding work: "Even the most fastidious reader must admit that
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"Thuong nho muoi tau" is a truly outstanding work in modern Vietnamese literature" [40; 59]. If Nguyen Tuan and Thach Lam are the two main writers, building a solid foundation in the early period, it can be said that Vu Bang is the third character, contributing greatly by marking an important milestone in the development of the essay genre . " Thuong nho muoi tau tau" also brings a profound lesson about "looking and enjoying" (Thach Lam). It attracts readers into the elegant happiness of discovery and feeling, making them more sensitive to the changes of the surrounding nature. The work not only brings literary pleasure through unique language art but also contributes to educating cultural awareness and cultivating love for the homeland.
2.3.4. Binh Nguyen Loc with The Wandering Steps on the Streets of Binh Nguyen Loc
2.3.4.1. Born in 1914, in Tan Uyen village, Bien Hoa province (now Tan Uyen town, Binh Duong province), Binh Nguyen Loc was a big name in the Southern literary world in the 60s and 70s of the 20th century with a rather large writing career in many genres and many different fields. In addition to writing literature (novels, short stories, essays), he also participated in annotating classical Vietnamese and Chinese literary works ( Van chieu hon, Tu tinh khuc, Thu da lu hoai ngam, Ty ba hanh, Truong han ca ) and researched linguistics and medicine ( Tot tran Viet ngu, Luan thuy hoc ). According to the Dictionary of Vietnamese historical figures , by 1974, he had written 1,000 short stories!
Binh Nguyen Loc is a writer with a strong sense of patriotism and national spirit. He participated in the resistance war after 1945. The weekly newspaper Vui Song , which he edited, gathered many patriotic writers such as Son Nam, Trang The Hy, Ha Huy Ha (Kien Giang), To Kieu Ngan, Vien Chau, etc. The main inspiration in most of Binh Nguyen Loc's works is lyrical inspiration. In the context of a changing society, he stood firmly on the side of the nation to affirm and praise traditional cultural and moral standards; at the same time, he criticized the phenomenon of hybridity, imitation, and ambition. His writings bear the cultural imprint of the people of the Southern land. Literature