“Dream of the Red Chamber,“ 《紅樓夢》one of the most appreciated, widely recognized and analyzed Chinese literary works, is known not only for its ingenious narrative and vivacious style, but also for the truths elucidated in the intertwined stories. The author Cao Xuěqín accurately depicted the complexity of the hierarchical struggles and relationships of people of various social backgrounds and status.
The characters and their daily activities recorded in Dream of the Red Chamber are not merely accurate depictions of the people and their lifestyle of an aristocratic family. The stories and the characters all convey allegorical meanings, inviting the reader to reflect on the well-accepted yet suspicious values of the material world, and urging him/her to seek for the true values of human nature. By looking closely at some of the medical cases and medicinal formulas, a reader may find insight into our life in the present.
The first and perhaps most important formula recounted in the Dream of the Red Chamber is from Chapter 7, which is an unusual formula called ‘Cold Fragrance Pill 冷香丸.’ The character who is prescribed the formula is Xuē Baochai, who is depicted as an idealized, flawless young lady who bears all the possible feminine virtues of Cao’s time — well-composed, modest, generous, chaste, knowledgeable, benevolent, and cultivated. According to the mysterious Buddhist monk who provided the formula, Baochai’s incessant panting and coughing already existed before she was born. Breathing is our immanent need to allow exchanges of life-supporting substances to take place between ourselves and our natural environment. Breathing clean and fresh air from our environment brings oxygen into our blood stream and nourishes our body. The pathological character of Baochai’s panting and coughing can be interpreted as a psychological and subconscious symptom of asthma — a symptom of feeling unable to breath naturally and smoothly, a feeling of being suffocated by the pressures from the environment. Such a disease indicates Baochai’s suppression of her nature and desire to be free. However, she hides her true self and acts the perfect lady in front of people, not viciously but rather involuntarily and tragically. Everybody in the novel loves and respects Baochai, praising her of her virtues and appropriate manners. However, nobody is aware that she has no outlet to release the ‘heat toxins’ that she holds inside. Baochai almost never expresses her true feelings to anyone throughout the novel, only once does she reveal privately to her peer Daiyu that she has secretly enjoyed reading romance novels since childhood, which are not considered appropriate for a cultivated young lady.
Baochai is so well-conditioned to be morally and socially appropriate that it makes a reader wonder if she has forgotten her pure innocent nature, only to obey the inhumane and segregated social norms and rules. She has successfully established the impression that young men should be politically active and ambitious, focusing only on gaining a decent position in the imperial palace. From what she has observed in her own family, as well as the Jia family, she has sacrificed her own happiness for the security of her family’s prosperity. She also attempts to persuade her cousin Baoyu to abandon his natural interest as a young man and work against his will to obtain a position in the government. She projects her own will on Baoyu and disregards his love of freedom, which alienated herself from him.
The formula itself is highly revealing of Cao’s intention, ‘Baochai … said with a smile:’…I can’t even recall how many doctors had been consulted about this complaint, or how much medicine I had taken, or how much money had been spent, and I didn’t see the least result of it all. Afterwards I was indebted to a Buddhist monk who… said that it was a hot toxin which I had brought from the womb… The important thing was that it was no use taking other doctors’ pills or medicines. He then prescribed an exotic formula from overseas, and gave me a packet of powders to take before using the prescribed formula. It had an unusual aromatic scent. He said that when I had a relapse, if I took a pill I should get well. And, strange to say, this has some real effect.’ Then Baochai described the formula upon Zhōu Rùi’s wife’s request:
‘The greatest difficulty is to get just the right time. You need twelve ounces of the stamens of the white tree peony 白牡丹花 that blossoms in the spring, twelve ounces of the stamens of the white lotus 白荷花 that blossoms in the summer, twelve ounces of the stamens of the white hibiscus 白芙蓉花 that blossoms in the autumn, and twelve ounces of the stamens of the white plum 白梅花 that blossoms in the winter. Take these four kinds of stamens at the vernal equinox 春分 of the next year and dry them in the sun on that day. Mix them along with the powders and grind them all well together. You also need twelve mace 錢 of rain which has fallen on the day of “Rain Water 雨水”… and you need, besides, twelve mace of dew on the day “White Dew 白露,” twelve mace of hoarfrost on the day “Hoarfrost Descends 霜降,” and twelve mace of snow on the day “Little Snow 小雪.” Take these four kinds of water and blend them (with the powder) and make the mixture into pills the size of a Longan. Place them in an old earthenware jar and bury the jar under the root of some flower, and when the complaint recurs you take one pill, with one mace and two candareens 分 of cork oak bark decoction.’ (Yellowbridge, Chapter 7)
The dosage emphasizes the number twelve, which is a recurring motif of the novel. As stated in Chun Qiu Fan Lu, ‘the number Ten is the number of the Heaven; the number Twelve is the time span of one year…The number of the Heaven completes when the number counts to Twelve’. (Dong, Chapter 24) The number Twelve can be seen as a symbol for the natural cycles rhythms of nature — twelve months of a year, twelve dual-hours of a day. Cao used the number of the Nature to remind us as human beings that we should not be obsessed with anything, but simply follow the natural movements of the universe.
The four kinds of seasonal flowers signify any living creature’s obedience to the natural rhythms of the nature. Medicine of white color in the classical Chinese medicine system is believed to benefit the lungs. (Unchuld, Chapter 4) The color white also signifies a person’s purity and innocence against the pollution of society. (Unchuld, Chapter 2) This is apparently not an easy thing to achieve, thus Cao articulates the arduous process of collecting the rain, dew, hoarfrost and snow in the four seasons. Ultimately, ingesting the pill with the very bitter cork oak bark decoction reminds one of an old saying in Chinese: ‘being able to intake the bitterness’ 能吃苦, meaning giving up any pleasure for the sake of one’s internal growth and strength.
Cao’s compassion and sympathy for ordinary people can easily be found throughout the novel, even for people who have completely abandoned their dignity and are lost in sensual pleasure. Yet the author carefully maintains a neutral position, keeping a distance from his characters, so that readers could gain an undistorted insight into the goings on. One good instance is the dramatic and miserable death of Jia Rui, after being ‘on two occasions frozen, angered and made to endure much hardship.’ (Yellowbridge, Chapter 12). His illness deteriorates as he refuses to give up his illusion and obsessions, ‘so that with the attacks received time and again from all sides, he unconsciously soon contracted an organic disease. His heart inflammation set in; his mouth lost the sense of taste; his feet got as soft as cotton from weakness; his eyes stung, as if there were vinegar in them. At night, he burnt with fever. During the day, he was repeatedly under the effects of lassitude. Perspiration was profuse, while with his expectorations of phlegm, he brought up blood. The whole number of these several ailments came upon him, before the passing of a year, (with the result that) in course of time, he had not the strength to bear himself up. Of a sudden, he would fall down, and with his eyes, albeit closed, his spirit would be still plunged in confused dreams, while his mouth would be full of nonsense and he would be subject to strange starts.’ (Yellowbridge, Chapter 12).
Regular doctors or medicinal remedies could not cure his lost soul, until a lame Taoist monk came to his door to beg for alms, and claimed that he ‘had the special gift of healing diseases arising from grievances received’. (Yellowbridge, Chapter 12). From the detailed description of Jia Rui’s symptoms, one could come to the conclusion that Cao had seen people suffer from similar problems to those of Jia Rui, and felt deeply for their miseries. Thus it is not surprising that he offered Jia Rui an opportunity to heal his illness, as the last warning signal for those who would not give up their obsession even in great desperation and in the face of death.
Cao dexterously used the symbol of a double-sided mirror to emphasize the danger of indulgence and ultimate futility of carnal pleasure. Through the mouth of the monk, Cao expressed that ‘this ailment… is not one that could be healed with any medicine…’ He spoke of his sympathy by stating that the mirror ‘emanates from the primordial confines of the Great Void and has been wrought by the Monitory Dream Fairy in the Palace of Unreality and Spirituality, with the sole intent of healing the illnesses which originate from evil thoughts and improper designs. Possessing, as it does, the virtue of relieving mankind and preserving life… but I only give it to those intelligent prominent and refined princely men to set their eyes on.’ (Yellowbridge, Chapter 12) For those who fail to turn away from indulgence would unavoidably be engulfed by the death.
Cao often used medical diagnosis of the family members to annotate the internal state of the Jias’ family. It is safe to come to the conclusion that Cao Xueqin, an extremely versatile and knowledgeable individual, was very familiar with classical Chinese medicine. He often revealed important clues through brief and casual conversations. In Chapter 51, he commented on how fragile and weak people from aristocratic families were ‘like the lofty aspen trees, which grow in people’s burial grounds. To look at, the branches and leaves are of luxuriant growth, but they are hollow at the core.’ And he ridiculed scholars and aristocrats who lacked a sense of humility and self-awareness through Baoyu’s mouth, ‘I daren’t liken myself to fir or cypress,” Pao-yü laughingly retorted. “Even Confucius says: ‘after the season waxes cold, one finds that the fir and cypress are the last to lose their foliage,’ which makes it evident that these two things are of high excellence. Thus it’s those only, who are devoid of every sense of shame, who foolishly liken themselves to trees of the kind!’ (Yellowbridge, Chapter 51)
Cao was clearly aware that people of his time were mostly misled by the material world and lack the ability to distinguish truths from fraudulence. Cao expressed his observation through a casual and humorous conversation, in Chapter 80, between Baoyu and the cunning but harmless Taoist monk, Wang, who produces and sells a useless herbal plaster that he claims could cure hundreds of illnesses and diseases. Wang’s description of his famous and popular omnipotent ointment plaster is apparently nothing but a mere recitation of all the previously existing formula prescriptions that he copied, memorized and repeated to every patient who came for a treatment —
‘If you ask about my ointments, it will take a long time to tell. Their details can hardly be exhausted. Altogether there are a hundred and twenty ingredients. They help each other like a prince and his ministers. Warm and cool herbs are both included. Internally, they adjust and repair the essential breaths, nourish the vital aura, open the mouth of the stomach, give ease to and settle the spirits, disperse away cold and disperse away heat, digest food and melt away phlegm. Externally, they make the pulse even, expand the blood-vessels, scatter death away and give new life, disperse chills and disperse toxins. Their effect is divine. If you stuck one on yourself, you would immediately know what I mean.’ (HKU, Chapter 80)
Immediately after Baoyu expresses doubts about the validity of the formula, Wang boasts that his plaster could cure ‘a hundred diseases, a thousand calamities, there is not one in which it will not have immediate effect. If it has no effect on you, just take hold of my beard and beat this old face of mine, and pull down this temple of mine…’ (HKU, Chapter 80) For those who believed Wang’s words, Cao finally revealed the reality of such myths through Wang’s own mouth, ‘It was only idle talk to relieve mid-day drowsiness… I tell you, even the ointment is spurious. If I had a genuine medicine, I would have applied it to myself first and become an immortal, and should I bother to come running here to fool around?’ (HKU, Chapter 80)
Through such realistic monologues of a con man, Cao ridicules relentlessly those who are so eager to treat their diseases and illnesses, both mental and physical, without having any knowledge or common sense where to find the true remedies. Cao implies that the true medicine resides in everyone’s heart or pure conscientiousness, which can be realized by overcoming our own weaknesses and obsessions.
Bibliography
Cao Xueqin. Translated by David Hawkes. The Story of the Stone, Penguin Classics; Trade Paperback Edition, 1974.
Cao Xue-qin. Translated by Yang Xian-yi, Gladys Yang. A Dream of Red Mansions. Foreign Languages Press; Box Edition, 2001.
Dong, Zhong-shu. Chun Qiu Fan Lu. Zhonghua Shuju, 2012.
Zhang Zhongjing. Discussion of Cold Damage (Shang Han Lun): Commentaries and Clinical Applications. Singing Dragon: 1st Edition, 2015.
Zhang Zhongjing. Translated & Commented by Feng Ye, Nigel, Mitchell & Craig Wiseman. Shang Han Lun: On Cold Damage, Translation & Commentaries. Paradigm Pubns: 1st Edition, 1999.
Unschuld, Paul U. Hermann, Tessenow. Huang Di Nei Jing Su Wen: An Annotated Translation of Huang Di’s Inner Classic – Basic Questions.University of California Press, 2011.
Unschuld, Paul U. Huang Di Nei Jing Ling Shu: The Ancient Classic on Needle Therapy. University of California Press:1st Edition, 2016.
Ni Maoshing. The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Medicine: A New Translation of the Neijing, Suwen with Commentary. Shambhala: Revised Edition, 1995.
Online Texts of the Dream of the Red Chamber:
https://www.yellowbridge.com/onlinelit/hongloumeng-en.php
https://lib.hku.hk/bonsall/hongloumeng.pdf
https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/…/cao…/c2359h/index.html The University of Adelaide Library, University of Adelaide, South Australia 5005（Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:52）
https://www.chant.org
