IV. Appreciation of New Poetry Works
Chapter 1: “Symbolist Pioneer Poet Li Jinfa”

1. The Origins of Chinese “Symbolism”

Li Jinfa, whose original name was Li Shuliang, was a Hakka from Meixian, Guangdong. In November 1919, amid the historical wave of “work-study in France,” he boarded a ship to Marseille, France. In 1920, he came into contact with French Symbolist poets Baudelaire (Charles Baudelaire; 1821–1867) and his poetry collection Les Fleurs du mal (Fleurs du mal, “Flowers of Evil”), as well as the poetry of Paul Verlaine (1844–1896). He then began his own modern poetry creation and introduced French Symbolism to China, pioneering Chinese “Symbolist poetry” and Symbolist modern poetry. His poetry collections include Light Rain (1925), Singing for Happiness (1926), and The Guest and the Famine Year (1927).

Professor Su Xuelin pointed out that Li Jinfa’s poetry shares characteristics with French Symbolist works, including hypersensitive sensory nerves, semantic ambiguity, decadent coloration, sentimentality, and exoticism1. The poet Tan Zihào said: “Li Jinfa indeed opened a new path for the poetry world, which was wandering and at a crossroads after the May Fourth Movement. He truly learned from French Symbolism more advanced expressive techniques and methods of shaping imagery than those of the Creation Society and the New Moon School.”2 Zhu Ziqing, in the “Preface” of the Anthology of New Literature of China: Poetry Volume, commented on Li Jinfa as follows: “His poems have no ordinary structure; each part can be understood separately, but taken together they seem to have no meaning. What he expresses is not meaning, but sensation and emotion; it is like a string of beads of various sizes and colors, yet he hides the string, and you must thread them yourself to see. This is precisely the technique of French Symbolist poets, and Li was the first to introduce it into Chinese poetry. Many people complain that his poems are incomprehensible, while many others imitate them. His poems are not lacking in imagination, but either his desire to create a new language is too urgent, or his native tongue is too unfamiliar, resulting in overly Europeanized syntax that makes them read like translations; …”

Li Jinfa’s poetry appeared in 1930s China. Because many people could not understand it, he was called a “poetic eccentric.” In response, the poet Ya Xian pointed out: “The most criticized aspect of Li Jinfa’s poetry lies in language. Originally, the characteristic of Symbolist works has always been to avoid ‘clarity’ and ‘certainty’ as much as possible, advocating strange associations of ideas and pursuing an ambiguous beauty in a hazy and obscure state. In Li Jinfa’s case, he achieved success in suggestive imagery; his failure lies in not having the Symbolist poet’s linguistic fluidity. His rhythm is also tortuous and difficult to read.”3 Symbolist poets are rich in hallucination and adept at sensory association. Arthur Rimbaud (1854–1891) said vowels have colors; Baudelaire believed that scent, color, and sound correspond to each other, and the emphasis on musicality is self-evident. Li Jinfa liked to use metaphor and appeal to the senses; however, compared with French Symbolist poets, his poetry lacks a certain degree of obscurity and suggestive ambiguity, and also lacks the semantic polysemy that Symbolists emphasize. In terms of artistic achievement, he is clearly not a pivotal figure. His historical significance lies mainly in his pioneering role in introducing Symbolism into China.

1. The Lonely, Melancholic Character and the Sentimental Tone of Life

Li Jinfa, a student from the Hakka mountainous region of China studying abroad, came to Symbolist poetry due to profound internal (psychological) and external (environmental) factors. Internally, he grew up in a frugal and hardworking Hakka mountain environment. His father’s strict discipline, centered on “calligraphy and abacus,” imposed rigid control over everything, which led him in adolescence to form a sentimental aesthetic taste and a personality of loneliness, melancholy, and aloofness. This also created a complex and peculiar correspondence with Symbolist poetry, which takes melancholy as a central aesthetic feature.4 Externally, facing a turbulent historical situation and the experience of studying overseas, he developed dissatisfaction, despair, and pessimism toward the world that was similar to Symbolist sensibility. These factors were reflected in his poetry, forming a gloomy and decadent tone: a pessimistic attitude toward life and a gray linguistic style.

“Hallucination of a Cold Night”

The night outside the window,
has dyed the heart of the lonely traveler blue,
and there is an unavoidable cold air,
as if it would shatter all spatial existence and the courage in the heart.

I lean on both elbows, about to write,
suddenly my heart trembles, my knees shake,
behind my ears a tumultuous sound of crowds,
like merchants dragging goods and walking,
and also like cats and dogs fighting under a short wall.

Paris has also become emaciated,
the visible temple towers,
all piercing into the empty sky,
like the hand of death.
The waters of the Seine River,
rush beneath the door,
floating countless corpses of humans and livestock,
and the ferrymen,
are also in panic and confusion.

I suddenly stand on a path,
both hands leading people and beasts,
and feel as if I already possess lifelong guarantors without fear.
Those following behind me,
all look at my footprints as they come.
We are about to enter the garden gate.
The majestic palace can be seen,
and suddenly I feel the hands of humans and beasts are so cold.
I then fall in terror onto the floor,
my eyes closed,
my limbs rigid and cold like the cold night.

This poem “Hallucination of a Cold Night” describes the poet’s solitary life in Paris, France, during a cold night abroad. Sitting under a lamp, he attempts to write but is interrupted by surrounding noisy sounds. Looking out the window, “Paris has also become emaciated, / the visible temple towers, / all piercing into the empty sky, / like the hand of death. / The waters of the Seine River, / rush beneath the door, / floating countless corpses of humans and livestock…” “like the hand of death” is a metaphor of imagination; “floating countless corpses of humans and livestock” is also imagined and not directly seen. Yet all these images revolve around the theme of death. For a young international student living in a foreign city, what causes such immersion in gray thoughts of death? This is indeed a thought-provoking question. According to Li Jinfa’s recollection, during his studies at the Paris Academy of Fine Arts, he had no money and no girlfriend, and had little interaction with local classmates. He seemed completely detached from the luxurious, extravagant, and indulgent world of the metropolis, living instead a frugal, difficult, and lonely single life.

Li Jinfa was incompatible with his environment. His lonely and difficult life abroad, the discrimination and bullying he suffered from foreign students, and the various tragic and ugly phenomena he observed in the world all gave new content and development to his melancholic and solitary personality formed in childhood. Combined with the decadent influence of French Symbolist poetry, he fell into even deeper loneliness, melancholy, and pessimism5.

“Being in Love with You”

The woman in the kitchen is in love with you:
gently lifting her white headscarf,
a black wooden ladle in her hand,
yet always with flowing gaze in her eyes.

If you are thirsty, she has morning milk, lemonade, champagne,
if you are troubled, she sings “the soul is immortal,”
and “Rien que nous deux” (meaning only the two of us).
She grew up in her grandmother’s village,
knowing all the sprouting leaves,
the difference between butterfly chrysalis and crickets,
the comparison between sunflowers and asters.

She does not envy your youthful success,
as if saying “spiritual union”
if she gives you a rendezvous,
it is the success of your own effort.

For a young poet living abroad, emotional nourishment is so deeply desired. In 1922, Li Jinfa met a German girl named Grete Scheuermann in Berlin. Grete was the daughter of a painter and, influenced by her father, was also skilled in painting. Li Jinfa quickly fell in love at first sight, which developed into a passionate romance. This became one of the most romantic and happiest periods of his life, and it inspired new poetic creativity, leading him to write many tender love poems. This poem was likely written during the period when Li Jinfa and Grete’s relationship was still developing. The woman in the poem gives the poet an opportunity for intimacy. Although the relationship did bear fruit, it lasted only until 1930, when Grete returned to Germany with their five-year-old son. A young kitchen maid is in love with the poet; beyond the expressive gaze of her eyes, she also uses practical actions—“if you are thirsty, she has morning milk, lemonade, champagne, / if you are troubled, she sings ‘the soul is immortal’”—to express her affection. However, in the simple countryside customs, the maid can only hint indirectly; it still requires the poet to take initiative: “if she gives you a rendezvous, / it is the success of your own effort.”

“The Wish”

I wish your palm
would turn into a boat,
allowing me to travel across famous places and distant seas.
When your arm bends slightly,
I am again within your heart.

I wish within your eyes
to search for the abandonment of a poet’s love,
the smile of wild wind in dense forests,
the colors reflected by sunset and evening glow.

The clear night air
brings the sound of autumn insects,
but what you give me are only tears.

I wish your hair to turn into jade orchid blossoms,
I would sleep beside the petals,
and bees would sing peacefully of my dreams;
in a bronze wine cup,
our lip shadows would be forever imprinted,
but youthful love
should not dissipate like drunkenness.

“Youthful love” is intoxicating. In his marital life of love with Grete, the poet wrote this heartfelt confession. However, beautiful dreams are always easy to wake from, and this is precisely the poet’s hidden anxiety: “but youthful love / should not dissipate like drunkenness.” Grete, longing for her homeland, eventually returned from Shanghai to Germany. This poem unexpectedly became a prophecy of the poet’s marriage.

“The Abandoned Woman”

Long hair spread all before my eyes,
thus cutting off all shame, hatred, illness, and contemptuous gazes,
and the rushing current of fresh blood, the deep sleep of withered bones.
Night and mosquitoes walk forward together,
taking advantage of this corner of a short wall,
mad cries behind my pure ears,
like the howling of a wild wind in the wilderness:
trembling countless nomads.

Leaning on a single blade of grass, I travel back and forth with the spirit of God in an empty valley.
My sorrow can only be deeply imprinted by the brain of wandering bees;
or flowing endlessly with mountain springs down the cliff,
and then departing together with red leaves.

The hidden worries of the abandoned woman accumulate in her movements,
the fire of the sunset cannot turn the boredom of time
into ashes, flying out from the chimney,
long staining the feathers of wandering crows,
which will perch together upon the stones of the tsunami,
quietly listening to the songs of boatmen.

The skirts of old age emit mournful groans,
wandering beside tombs,
never again any hot tears,
dropping upon the grassland
as the decoration of the world.

This poem “The Abandoned Woman” is one of Li Jinfa’s works that has generated relatively extensive discussion. The poem is written from the first-person perspective of “I,” delivering a confession that accuses the self of its tragic fate. Emotional vocabulary in the poem includes shame, old age, sorrow, and boredom; action verbs include screaming wildly, howling, trembling, lamenting, and tsunami; imagery nouns include blood, withered bones, cliffs, ashes, crows, and tombs. All of these carry a strong tone of ugliness and dark decadence, enveloping the entire poem in an atmosphere of death and suffering.

An elderly “abandoned woman,” whose husband has died, continues to live like a ghost. The poem reflects the tragic fate of marginalized figures in society and reveals the poet’s compassionate humanitarian spirit. More than thirty years later, the poet Ya Xian wrote a poem titled “Mad Woman,” also using first-person monologue to accuse her own circumstances. The difference is that the former focuses on personal suffering, while the latter incorporates surrounding social realities; the former uses a mixture of classical and vernacular language that is difficult to read, while the latter uses vivid, colloquial language that produces a bittersweet emotional effect. This is the natural evolution of poetry—“later works become more refined.”

Ya Xian / “Mad Woman”

If you keep laughing I will lift up the whole street
and raise it toward the sky that the police cannot control, that flutes cannot reach
toward the chaotic registry of stars
Maria will tie the rainbow into a knot and hang you to death

In front of the statue of the angry Moses, I sit
all of Africa’s torrents are hidden in my hair
I sit. Let the hot wind blow me
let the city noise grind my exposed breasts into roundness
I sit. Maria comes to claim me
I go with her. I am a proper woman

The opening of this poem immediately captures the reader’s attention. A “mad woman,” exposing her chest and breasts, shouts loudly at curious onlookers and mocking neighbors in the street: “If you keep laughing I will lift up the whole street / and raise it toward the sky that the police cannot control, that flutes cannot reach / toward the chaotic registry of stars / Maria will tie the rainbow into a knot and hang you to death.” Of course, these “mad words” cannot actually produce intimidation; they only attract more curious gazes and laughter.

“Impression”

Like dead leaves splashing blood upon our
feet, life is
a smile at the corner of death’s lips.

Under the half-dead moon, drinking and singing,
a torn-throat voice drifts away in the north wind.
Ah! Go comfort those you love.

Open your windows and doors, and let it be shy,
dust of battle has covered its lovely eyes.
Is this the shyness
and rage of life?

Like dead leaves splashing blood upon our
feet, life is
a smile at the corner of death’s lips.

The extensive use of metaphor is a common technical feature of Symbolist poets. Critic I. A. Richards (1893–1979) pointed out that metaphor consists of tenor and vehicle. The tenor is the intended subject or meaning to be expressed; the vehicle is the linguistic carrier used to express it.6

This poem “Impression” is closer to the Symbolist mode of writing, using metaphor and symbolic objects to convey an obscure and ambiguous artistic atmosphere. “Like dead leaves splashing blood upon our / feet, life is / a smile at the corner of death’s lips.” The first line uses a simile to evoke association in the reader’s mind; the second line deepens the theme through a metaphor, linking “life” with “a smile at the corner of death’s lips.” The first creates atmosphere; the second fuses metaphor with symbolism. “Life” is the tenor (the subject of the metaphor), while “a smile at the corner of death’s lips” is the vehicle (the linguistic medium, i.e., the figurative expression). These three lines appear at both the beginning and the end of the poem, forming a structural echo that strengthens the sense of heaviness and helplessness.

Annotation:

1. See Professor Su Xuelin, “The Founder of the Symbolist School Li Jinfa,” collected in “Chinese Writers of the 1920s and 1930s,” [.]http://www.millionbook.net/xd/s/shuxuelin/wlj/019.htm
2. See Tan Zihào, “On the Symbolist School and Chinese New Poetry — In Response to Professor Su Xuelin,” collected in “The Complete Works of Tan Zihào.”
3. See Ya Xian, “The Pioneer of Chinese Symbolism — ‘Poetry Monster’ Li Jinfa,” [http://dcc.ndhu.edu.tw/poemroad/ya-shian/2005/11/05/%E4%B8%AD%E5%9C%8B%E8%B1%A1%E5%BE%B5%E4%B8%BB%E7%BE%A9%E7%9A%84%E5%85%88%E9%A9%85-%E2%94%80%E2%94%80%E3%80%8C%E8%A9%A9%E6%80%AA%E3%80%8D%E6%9D%8E%E9%87%91%E9%AB%AE/]
4. See Chen Houcheng, “Hakka Celebrity: Poet and Sculptor Li Jinfa,” Xinhua Net, [http://140.115.170.1/Hakkapolieco/ba_gua/hero7.htm.]
5. Same as note 4.
6. See Zhang Cuo, “Handbook of Western Literary Terms,” page 289, Taipei, Bookman Publishing, 2005.