The Laughing Proud Wanderer

It Came From the Sinosphere: State of Divinity (Part 3)

September 24, 2013 by Sara K. 3 Comments

Yue Buqun

Yue Buqun in soliloquy mode.

When I first read the novel, Yue Buqun did not leave such a strong impression on me, and I did not understand why so many people consider him to be the character that the entire story turns on. As I’ve read/seen more adaptations, I have gotten a better understanding of his importance, but it is this adaptation which really drove home to me what a great character he is.

What really distinguishes State of Divinity’s Yue Buqun is that, unlike any other version of the story I’ve seen/read, we get to see his inner thoughts.

In the original novel, everything we know about Yue Buqun comes from Linghu Chong or Lin Pingzhi, and since Yue Buqun never reveals his private thoughts to these two characters, we can only understand him based on his actions. By contrast, State of Divinity offers Yue Buqun ample opportunities for soliloquy.

What really struck me is that Yue Buqun’s thoughts as depicted by State of Divinity are very different from what I expected – yet entirely consistent with canon. This, of course, is a reflection of just an enigma Yue Buqun is – though we know what he does, the reader never knows what he says to himself.

Yue Buqun … vulnerable?

And State of Divinity shows Yue Buqun being vulnerable. This is something I have never seen in any other version of the story. One of the principles of Yue Buqun’s personality is that he *never* shows vulnerability (at least not in Linghu Chong or Lin Pingzhi’s presence). To be honest, vulnerable!Yue Buqun shocked me.

I now think that Yue Buqun is one of Jin Yong’s finest characters.

Lin Pingzhi

I ended up really liking Lin Pingzhi in State of Divinity.

I’m not just saying that I thought he was well-written and well performed (though I do think that). I actually ended up liking the character himself.

Lin Pingzhi with his mother.

While most versions of the story note that Yue Buqun and Lin Pingzhi have similar personalities, State of Divinity really emphasizes that Lin Pingzhi = young!Yue Buqun. Thus they reinforce each other’s position in the story.

Laughing on the Wind introduces Lin Pingzhi as being privileged, coddled, and spoiled, which of course sets him up for being disliked by the audience. It’s almost satisfying to watch him suffer.

State of Divinity, by contrast, makes it really easy to love Lin Pingzhi. This was hard for me, because I knew what happens to Lin Pingzhi at the end. I wanted to hope that State of Divinity would show some mercy to Lin Pingzhi … but I already knew that hope was in vain.

Lin Pingzhi is experiencing a Horrible Revelation.

In this adaptation, it is Lin Pingzhi who breaks my heart the most.

About the Music

Well, a lot of the music used in the show is not original (for example, it borrows the soundtrack from Ashes of Time, among other sources). I still found it a bit jarring to hear music pulled from other contexts. Then again, borrowing really good music was probably wiser than composing original-yet-mediocre music – and what original music the show has is mostly uninteresting.

There is one original song which actually stands out is the tune of “The Laughing Proud Wanderer” itself. According to the story, it’s the more beautiful song the characters have ever heard, but I don’t think the audience actually expects that of the makers of the TV show.

The song works because it fits the atmosphere story. Bach it is not, but it does a pretty good job of condensing 43 episodes of story into a single tune. That is much more important than being a great music in its own right.

A Shift in the Ending

This scene wasn’t in the original novel, so where have I seen this before … oh that’s right, it’s just like that scene in Shēn Diāo Xiá Lǚ

Every adaptation (except Lee Chi-Ching’s manhua) alter the ending.

To be fair, the ending of State of Divinity is actually mostly the same as the ending of the novel. But there is one crucial change.

In the original novel, Linghu Chong is helpless at the end. There is practically nothing he can do to change the course of events. His must experience whatever fate sends his way.

Linghu Chong experiences utter despair.

And that is what State of Divinity tweaks. At the end, Linghu Chong does change the course of events.

That doesn’t make it a bad ending. But I find it interesting that most adaptations feel that have to change that part.

Comments on the Acting

Overall, I think both shows have very good acting. Even when they did not cast the most suitable actor, at least it is somebody competent enough to make the part work anyway.

That said, these are the highlights for me (from both shows)

Xu Qing as Ren Yingying and Wei Zi as Yue Buqun

Xu Qing as Ren Yingying (LitW) – I think it’s a bit unfair to compare Xu Qing and Fiona Leung’s performances as Ren Yingying, since the script of LitW gives Xu Qing a lot more to work with. Nonetheless, I think Xu Qing does a better job of exposing Ren Yingying in her most vulnerable moments.

Wei Zi as Yue Buqun (LitW) – It is really hard to decide whether Wei Zi (LitW) or Wong Wai (SoD) is a better Yue Buqun, but my gut says that Wei Zi’s acting is a little better (though as far as the script, Yue Buqun is definitely better written in SoD).

He Meitian as Yilin and Jackie Lui as LInghu Chong

Jackie Lui as Linghu Chong (SoD) – This is an example of great casting. To quote a review (which I can’t find right now) ‘Jackie Lui is Linghu Chong’. Li Yapeng’s performance in LitW is also good, but he fails to embody the character as fully as Jackie Lui.

He Meitian as Yilin (SoD) – If casting Jackie Lui as Linghu Chong is great, then casting He Meitian as Yilin is perfect. In a show which sets a very high bar for acting, it is Jackie Lui and He Meitian who really stand out. He Meitian also plays Qi Fang in another of my favorite wuxia dramas, A Deadly Secret, where she is once again a highlight.

Small Evil is Scarier than Great Evil

One of the messages of this story (and most of Jin Yong’s work) is that good cannot defeat evil.

Good can avoid evil. Evil can self-destruct. Good can even, rarely, persuade evil to change. But good cannot defeat evil.

Ren Woxing holds a puppy in his arms as Ren Yingying rushes up to him.

Evil can also rescue puppies.

Some adaptations (including Laughing in the Wind) try to turn one of the villains into the Big Bad, which the heroes can then take down and triumph over. That’s not how the original novel works. In the original novel, all of the villains are narrow-minded men (none of the villains are cis-female). Though they can fall individually, they can never be eliminated as a group. If you take down one petty tyrant, another will emerge.

This is scary.

Ren Yingying and Linghu Chong look really scared.

Yep, they’re scared.

If you think in terms of great evil, at least there is the hope that, after taking out the Big Bad, you will be free once and for all. But if evil is like a weed which will grow back from the soil of human nature as soon as you pull it out, then it will be with you forever.

The villains are horrible not because they are inhuman, but because they are human.

My Encounter with the TV Show

I had been in Taiwan for a short time, and I was just starting to feel out Chinese-language media. As a starting point, I would channel-surf. During my channel-surfing, the wuxia dramas caught my eye the most, since they were quite different from what I was familiar with.

However, even with my lack of listening comprehension skill, I could tell that wuxia TV dramas follow Sturgeon’s Law.

There was one wuxia drama which stood out. I could only understand 10-20% of the dialogue, so of course I couldn’t follow the story, but it still drew me in. Without understanding it, I still felt that what was happening mattered.

I remember one scene where a certain nun killed another character.

This nun has just killed somebody.

Now, I understood enough to know that the nun was horrified by the fact that she had just killed somebody. I also knew that Buddhist nuns are generally not supposed to killing living creatures. I did not know the broader context – for example, I did not know what the nun’s relationship to the victim was – but I *felt* it.

Scenes like this made an impression on me, even though I didn’t know what they mean.

Well, I had to find out what this TV show was – and I learned it was State of Divinity, adapted from a novel by Jin Yong.

Yep, this TV show was my gateway drug, both to Jin Yong specifically and the wuxia genre as a whole (I’ve even written about this before).

Now, even if I hadn’t caught reruns of this show, I would have almost certainly encountered Jin Yong and wuxia anyway. But if my first encounter had been, say The Book and the Sword, I might have concluded that it wasn’t for me, and left it at that.

And if I hadn’t gotten hooked on wuxia, this column would be really, really, really different.

Linghu Chong, Xiang Wentian, and Ren Woxing by a bonfire on the beach.

I remember watching this scene on Taiwanese TV.

It also made for a weird experience when I finally read the novel. As I read a scene, images from the TV show
would emerge in my head, and I would have lots deja-vu moments -‘This seems oddly familiar’, ‘So, this is what that was actually about’, ‘Oh shit, this is the scene where she dies!’

Availability in English

As far as I know, this show is currently not available in English.

It is listed on Dramafever as ‘coming soon’, but there are so many Hong Kong dramas which are listed as ‘coming soon’ that, unless Dramafever has a gigantic army of translators/subtitlers/etc. at its command, not all of those dramas can ‘come soon’. My guess is that ‘coming soon’ means ‘we have a license to stream this show, but we’ll only actually translate it if we think it will generate a lot of interest among our viewers’.

So if you would like to see this show with English/Spanish subtitles, tell Dramafever.

Conclusion

Okay, in some ways, Laughing in the Wind does kick State of Divinity‘s ass. Yet I think it should be obvious that I love State of Divinity much more.

I think most people agree with me. While both shows get onto many people’s ‘best wuxia TV show’ lists, everybody who has compared the two (including a Laughing in the Wind fansite!) says that State of Divinity is better.

I would take it a step further. There are many classic wuxia TV shows I have yet to see – as well as many classic Chinese-language TV shows in other genres. But of all of the Chinese-language dramas I have seen, State of Divinity is the best. That’s right, it is better than every other single TV show I have discussed here at Manga Bookshelf.

This show is so highly recommended that I think I have just wrecked the roof.

Sara K. made some comments about Shén Tōu Tiānxià by Zheng Feng (who also wrote Passionate Wastrel, Infatuated Hero and Spirit Sword) over at her personal blog.

It Came from the Sinosphere: State of Divinity (Part 2)

September 10, 2013 by Sara K. Leave a Comment

Picking up from last week, here is even more State of Divinity.

Background

This is a TVB production.

TVB Hong Kong’s (and the Cantonese-speaking world’s) biggest commercial television station, and one of the most popular television production companies in all of Asia. Their hit shows get dubbed in Vietnamese Indonesian, Hindi, Mandarin, Thai, and other widely major languages.

In wuxia, ‘TVB’ is a legendary name. Many people around Asia (and in Asian communities abroad) first got hooked onto wuxia due thanks to a TVB production. TVB has also been a launching point for the careers of many of Hong Kong’s top actors. In particular, the 1980s is known as the ‘golden era’ of TVB wuxia dramas.

Chow Yun-Fat as Linghu Chong and Rebecca Chan as Ren Yingying from the 1984 TV adaptation.

Well, this drama, State of Divinity, was made in the 1990s, after the ‘golden era’. Yet on every single list I have ever seen ranking wuxia dramas from the 1990s, State of Divinity is always in first or second place. This is actually the second time that TVB has adapted this novel – the first adaptation was The Smiling Proud Wanderer 1984, starring Chow Yun-fat as Linghu Chong. Yet, in spite of the fact that The Smiling Proud Wanderer 1984 was made in the golden 80s, every single reviewer says that State of Divinity is much, much better.

This is also TVB’s last adaptation of this novel – in 2000, Jin Yong revoked TVB’s license to adapt his work.

The Visuals

State of Divinity is not ugly. At times, it’s pretty. But if you compare it to Laughing in the Wind, which is probably the most beautiful TV drama I have ever seen, it will lose really, really badly. Therefore I will be merciful, and not compare them.

Shenggu is wearing a veil as she walks out of a burning building.

I do like this dramatic shot.

Yilin and the Hengshan Sect

I think Yilin, the young Buddhist nun, might be one of the most under-appreciated characters in the story. Almost nobody takes her because she’s just a teenage girl, and as well all know, teenage girls – particularly teenage girls with strong feelings combined with doubt – are by default silly. But if you actually think about what she says and what she does … it actually does not seem so silly after all, at least not to me.

She says that if doing the right thing would mean going to hell, then she would willingly spend an eternity in hell. Think about that for a moment. If she things that doing the right thing *might* send her to hell, that means that she does not consider the Buddhist world order to be perfectly just. While her religion heavily influences her sense of ethics, she thinks it does not have the final word on what is right and what is wrong. And she is so committed to doing the right thing that she would be willing to go to hell for it.

Can you bribe someone who is willing to go to hell in order to do the right thing? Can you threaten them?

In this respect, Yilin and Linghu Chong are very much alike. For most of the story, Linghu Chong believes that he is going to die quite soon, so whenever somebody tries to bribe/threaten him, his standard response is ‘I am going to die soon, so why should I care?’

The nuns of the Hengshan Sect

And then there is the doubt. Her religious order tells her on thing, her father tells her another thing, and then there are the feelings inside her own heart that she doesn’t completely understand. It is therefore quite reasonable that she is not sure what to do, and she is humble enough to recognize this. However, in the deepest levels of her heart, I think she has no doubt that she wants to do the right thing, it is merely a question of what the ‘right’ thing actually is.

Of course, Yilin is part of the Hengshan Sect, which is the voice of morality in the story. And many of the issues specific to Yilin also apply to the whole sect. The Hengshan sect is an order of Buddhist nuns who have taken vows to live a simple life and do no harm. While many characters publicly praise the Hengshan Sect for their upright way of life, they privately hold contempt for that ‘bunch of nuns’. I think this partially because the nuns are women, but I think it’s also because, by putting morality and humility first, they silently critique anybody whose goal is to amass power and prestige.

It’s interesting to note that, while the Hengshan Sect has many rules, whenever those rules come into conflict with what’s right, they always bend the rule and do what’s right. This is something which almost no other group in the story will do – and indeed the Hengshan Sect gets heavily criticised for bending its rules. How dare they put ethics first! Silly women!

Laughing in the Wind removes much of Yilin’s and the Hengshan Sect’s role in the story, and I understand why – its interpretation of the story doesn’t need them so much. State of Divinity, on the other hand, really does justice to Yilin and the Hengshan Sect. They are a crucial part of State of Divinity’s humanistic vision.

The Thick, Deep Humanity of It All

One thing that is really striking about this drama is the depth of the human relationships.

For example, more than any other version of this story I’ve experienced (including the original novel), this TV show establishes really well the relationships within the Huashan Sect. While
they certainly aren’t a perfect ‘family’, overall, it feels like a tight, warm group.

Linghu Chong is injured. Again. Never fear, the Huashan Sect looks after its own.

Of course, this makes the eventual fate of the Huashan Sect all the more heartbreaking.

And then there is Zuo Lengshan. Unlike most of the ‘villains’, he doesn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities. Yet in this adaptation, he feels human. That’s not to say he is *not* a villain – his actions, after all, are pretty much the same as in every other version of the story. But it feels like there is a human being behind those actions, rather than a mere ‘bad guy’.

Zuo Lengshan is puzzled.

I think what made the difference to me was the very first episode, where Zuo Lengshan was pondering something which puzzled him. Something about that very simple act – trying to figure out a something he doesn’t understand – made Zuo Lengshan feel like a genuine person.

Indeed, it seems much of the artistic directive in this TV drama was to make everybody feel like a real person. For example, there is an entire new subplot which is added just to explain why Yue Lingshan acts a certain way (she does the same thing in most versions of the story, but it usually difficult to buy it).

Yue Lingshan

Clearly, the actors put a lot of work into making their characters feel genuine, and to make their connections feel authentic. In addition to the actors work, there’s also the work of the camera operators and editors – I didn’t realize just how much of this TV show consists of meaningful glances and reaction shots until I translated that scene for Part 1. It all works really, really well.

The Bad Gender Baggage

Alas, there is a huge exception to the story’s humanistic vision, and that’s the way it handles non-binary/cis gender. Or, if I may be blunt, it’s transmisogynist.

During the course of the story, four characters lose their testicles. One of them loses his testicles in an ‘ordinary’ way – while he loses his interest in sex, his voice doesn’t change, and he generally still seems fairly masculine. This is consistent with what happens in the real world to people who lose their testicles post-puberty.

The other three, however (I am making up a term in order to avoid spoilers) ‘go through the mork’. In addition to losing their genitalia, they become stereotypically feminine – they develop an interest in pretty clothes, make-up, embroidery, etc. Clearly this is due to ‘going through the mork’, not just the absence of their testicles.

The thing is, these three characters happen to be villains.

Now, in some versions of the story, you could argue that they were evil *before* they ‘went through the mork’, and that it’s just a coincidence that the characters transitioning from male to female are all evil. Well, in State of Divinity that argument doesn’t hold – it clearly depicts the characters becoming *more* evil after they ‘go through the mork’. Now you could say that it’s just a coincidence that the same thing which makes them evil also makes them feminine … but that’s not what the characters in the story think (to paraphrase Ren Yingying ‘Don’t trust him because he’s a neither male nor female freak’).

I actually like Henry Lo’s performance. It’s not his fault that the story is transmisogynist.

Believe me, I have tried to interpret this story in a way which is not transmisogynist … and basically the only two ways to pull that off is a) change the story (which is what Laughing in the Wind does to reduce the transmisogyny) or b) not be honest with myself.

Some people might excuse the transphobia/transmisogyny by saying that it was written in the 1960s. My response is that Liang Yusheng managed to write an wuxia novel in 1960s Hong Kong with a transwoman character *without* implying that MtF people are evil. If he could do it, why not Jin Yong?

I am really disappointed that such a great story is also transmisogynist.

If Laughing in the Wind is a Work of Art, then State of Divinity Is a Cat

As I’ve described before, Laughing in the Wind feels like it’s been curated by somebody with impeccable artistic taste. Part of the joy of watching that show is wondering what exquisite delight is coming next, for the TV show manages to get the viewer to trust its artistic sense pretty quickly.

State of Divinity is not like that. It does not dazzle the audience with its refined elegance. It feels like a typical wuxia TV show – just as the opening theme song announces. It submits itself so entirely to being a standard wuxia TV show that it has become a ‘cat’.

The actress Uta Hagen says in the book Respect for Acting that, if you put an adult human on stage with an animal, such as cat, or a very young child, then the audience will probably pay more attention to the animal/young child than the adult human. That’s because animals/young children are not very stage conscious, and will probably act more authentically than adults who have been trained to monitor themselves. Uta Hagen said that her goal, as a performer, is to always be more fascinating to watch than a cat.

State of Divinity is so true to what it is that it sucks the viewers in and holds onto them tightly. I actually cannot think of another TV show – in any language and any genre – which excels State of Divinity in this specific respect.

And I Still Have More to Say…

So come back next week!

It Came From the Sinosphere: State of Divinity (Part 1)

September 3, 2013 by Sara K. 1 Comment

Linghu Chong wears a black cloth covering the lower half of his face as his sword is pointed at a merchant'st throat.

Linghu Chong is asking for a ‘donation’.

I noted that the opening theme for Laughing in the Wind is so low-key that it stands out from other wuxia TV shows without being pretentious at all. Compare that to the opening them of State of Divinity 1996, which is adapted from the very same novel as Laughing in the Wind:

This TV theme does not stand out at all. It is a very typical wuxia TV show opening theme. Whereas the Laughing in the Wind theme says ‘This is not your typical wuxia drama’, the State of Divinity Theme says ‘Another standard TVB wuxia drama coming right up!’

This difference in approach explains a lot of what makes these two adaptations feel different.

So, let’s look at a ‘typical’ scene from a ‘typical’ drama.

Example Scene: Why This Show Is So Addictive

This scene is not particularly special, but it is precisely because it is not special that it is good for demonstrating how State of Divinity keeps ratcheting up the tension to keep the audience hooked (of course most of the credit goes to Jin Yong, who wrote the novel). I am going to translate the scene (with abridgements), and whenever something happens which increases the tension, I will increase the font size. Ready?

This is a dinner party hosted by Liu Zhengfeng, where everybody is polite. They won’t stay polite for long.

Yu Canghai: Yue Buqun, you’re looking younger and younger! Apparently the Violet Mist Divine Skill is extending your life.
Yue Buqun: You flatter me, my skills are nothing much really. But you look like you are in excellent shape.
Yu Canghai: Oh, you are much too polite.
Liu Zhengfeng: Welcome, Yue Buqun and Yu Canghai.
[polite talk that I’m not translating]
Liu Zhengfeng: Ah, Abbess Dingyi has arrived. Oh, and the Huashan Sect disciples have also come. Welcome, welcome!
[more polite talk]
[but Abbess Dingyi looks displeased]
Yue Buqun: Abbess Dingyi, is there a problem?
Dingyi: Ah, it is best that you are here. I want an explanation.
Yue Buqun: What do you want me to explain?
Dingyi: Your unbridled disciple Linghu Chong’s absolutely unexcusable behavior.

[Yue Buqun looks at the Huashan Sect disciples. I should note that Yue Buqun is the leader of the Huashan Sect.]

The Huashan Sect disciples.

Yue Buqun: Though my disciple is a bit mischievous, he’s always been frank and outspoken. If he’s said anything which offended you, I will apologize for him.
Liu Zhengfeng: Let’s discuss this slowly and calmly, and keep the peace.
Yue Buqun: Yes.
Dingyi: Yue Buqun, please bring your horrid disciple Linghu Chong out immediately!
Yue Buqun: Bring him out?
Dingyi: Your horrid disciple is associating with that rapist Tian Guangbo, and they kidnapped my disciple Yilin!

[tension goes up]
Yue Buqun: That is impossible. Though Linghu Chong often misbehaves, he would never do such a thing. There must be a misunderstanding.
Dingyi: This is completely true. Taishan Sect’s Tian Songdao saw it with his own eyes! And Yu Canghai’s disciple Mai Renda also saw it!

[tension goes up]
Yu Canghai: My disciple saw it? Then it must be true. [laughs] I never would have though that the great ‘gentleman sword’ Yue Buqun would train such a base disciple! [laughs more]

Yue Buqun, though not amused, stays calm.

Yue Buqun: Abbess Dingyi, I feel that what you said still leaves room for doubt. Alas, Linghu Chong isn’t here now to tell his side of the story. For the moment, we cannot get to the bottom of this.
Dingyi: You think that just because Linghu Chong isn’t here, you can clear yourself of this matter?!
Yue Buqun: That’s not what I mean, but…
Taishan Sect Person: Linghu Chong, you scum, bring your ass out now!
[The Taishan Sect comes in with two bodies, one dead]

[tension goes up]
Taishan Sect Person: Linghu Chong, you monster, I am going to kill you!
[Liu Zhengfeng approaches one of the bodies, which is still moving]
Liu Zhengfeng: How did Tian Songdao get so severely injured? Who killed Chi Baicheng?
Tianmen Daoren: It was that rapist Tian Guangbo! Yue Buqun, bring out that Linghu Chong immediately!
Lingshan: What does the fact that Tian Guangbo attacked your disciples have to do with Brother Linghu Chong?
Tianmen Daoren: Though Linghu Chong didn’t kill him himself, it’s Linghu Chong’s fault that he died! He injured my disciple, killed my disciple, and Linghu Chong sat and did nothing! He should pay!
[sounds of agreement]
Liu Zhengfeng: Tianmen Daoren, let’s slow down a little. How could Linghu Chong be with Tian Guangbo? We should wait for this to be fully investigated. If Linghu Chong did do something wrong, I will persuade him to change his ways.
Tianmen Daoren: Persuade him to change his ways?! We should expel him, and take his head!
Lu Dayou: Tianmen Daoren, you’re taking this too far! Brong Linghu Chong hasn’t killed anybody, so nobody should execute him!
[Yu Canghai, leader of the Qingcheng Sect, is still smiling]
Dingyi: Who says he hasn’t killed anybody? He killed someone from the Qingcheng Sect!
[Yu Canghai stops smiling]

This is Yu Canghai *not* smiling.

[tension goes up]
Yu Canghai: WHAT! Linghu Chong killed one of my disciples? Killed who?
[The Qingcheng Sect disciples enter with a dead body]

Qingcheng Disciple: Shifu, it’s too late!
Yu Canghai: What happened?
Qingcheng Disciple: Brother Luo has been killed!
Yu Canghai: Who killed him?
Qingcheng Disciple: Linghu Chong!
Yu Canghai: So Linghu Chong really did kill him.
Qingcheng Disciple: I saw it with my own eyes. Alas, I was no match for Linghu Chong, and couldn’t save Brother Luo from that villain!
Lingshan: Who are you calling a villain?!
Yue Buqun: Did you really see Linghu Chong kill him?
Qingcheng Disciple: I’d recognize him even if he were a heap of ashes!
[Yu Canghai pulls out a sword from the dead body. The sword has the name ‘Linghu Chong’ engraved on it]

Linghu Chong’s sword

[tension goes up]
Yu Canghai: It’s proven that Linghu Chong did this, what do you say now, Yue Buqun?
Yue Buquen: This is definitely Linghu Chong’s sword. Yu Canghai…
Yu Canghai: You’re still defending your disciple?! You hypocrite!
Liu Zhengfeng: Yu Canghai, you have my deepest sympathies. But it has not been proven beyond all doubt that Linghu Chong did this. If we keep going on like this, I fear we will break the peace … we must find and question Linghu Chong. What do all of my guests think?
Yue Buqun: Brother Liu, you are right. Denuo and Dayou, go out and bring Linghu Chong here.
Denuo and Dayou: Yes, shifu.
Yu Canghai: You three, help them find Linghu Chong. I don’t trust that Yue Buqun won’t try to shelter him.
Qinggcheng Discipes: Yes, shifu.
Liu Zhengfeng: Danian, send someone to help them find Linghu Chong and Yilin.
Danian: Yes, shifu.
Liu Zhengfeng: Abbess Dingyi, don’t worry, we’ll soon find your disciple Yilin.
Yilin: Shifu!
[Yilin, the nun who was ‘kidnapped by that rapist Tian Guangbo and the horrid Linghu Chong’ enters]
Dingyi: Yilin!

[tension goes up]
Yilin: [weeping] Shifu, I never thought I would live to see you again!
Dingyi: Yilin, don’t cry. Shifu asks you, did you see that horrid Linghu Chong?
Yilin: Brother Linghu? [Yilin weeps some more]
Dingyi: Don’t cry! Tell shifu, did you see him or not?
Yilin: Disciple did see Brother Linghu.
Dingyi: Where is he?
Tianmen Daoren: Yes, where is Linghu Chong?
Yilin: Brother Linghu … he’s … he’s dead.
Huashan Sect People: Dead!
[I should point out that Linghu Chong is *the main protagonist*. And this is episode 6 out of 43 episodes. Therefore, the tension practically leaps into the air here. However, for technical reasons, I am not going to increase the font size to 50]

Yilin and Abbess Dingyi

Lingshan: Sister Yilin, who did you hear this from?
Yilin: I saw it with my own eyes.
[Lingshan faints]
Huashan Sect Disciples: Sister!
Yue Buqun: Take her back to her room.
Huashan Sect Disciples: Yes, shifu.
Yu Canghai: Well, it’s best that Linghu Chong is already dead. It looks like I won’t have to sully my hands by killing him.
[Yue Buqun gives Yu Canghai a stare]
Yue Buqun: Yilin, do you know who killed Linghu Chong?
Yilin: Linghu Chong … was [points at dead Qingcheng disciple Luo Renjie] killed by him!
Yu Canghai: [expletive], my disciple Luo Renjie was clearly killed by Linghu Chong! Are you saying that my disciple is Linghu Chong’s murderer?! What logic is this!
Yilin: Brother Linghu really was killed by this bad man!
Yu Canghai: You DARE SAY THAT! The people of my Qingcheng Sect are bad people? All of your Five-Mountain-Alliance people are good people, eh?
Yilin: I didn’t say that Uncle Yu was bad just … just that he [pointing at the body] is bad.
Yu Canghai: You… [approaches Yilin, Dingyi blocks him]
Dingyi: You dare threaten my disciple! Yilin, don’t fear, your shifu is here to protect you. Please explain to everybody exactly why he [pointing at the body] is a bad man.

I could keep translating, but I think you already understand why it was hard for me to stop myself from watching this (even though I already know the story). Suffice to say, it’s an interesting dinner party.

The Story

I have summarized the story already hereand here. Instead of summarizing it again, I will offer this quote from a minor
character, Huang Zhonggong, which I think sums up the essence of the story:

“When we four brothers first entered the Sun Moon Cult, we thought we could carry out heroic deeds all over jianghu. Who knew that Ren Woxing [leader of the Sun Moon Cult] was so violent, and so hungry for power? Long after we four brothers had been disillusioned, Dongfang Bubai became the leader, and he loves wickedness even more. He executed all of the elders, and we four became even more disheartened. We decided to retreat to Plum Villa, and guard the prisoner. Firstly, far from Heimuya [headquarters of the Sun Moon Cult], we did not have to participate in all of the internecine struggle and backstabbing. Secondly, we could quietly live by Xihu, and fill our days with music and books. We can say that we have had twelve happy years. Nevertheless, in life the sorrows are many, and the joys are few. That is the nature of life.”

Just after saying that, Huang Zhonggong dies. With a few changes (i.e. replace ‘we four brothers’ with ‘Linghu Chong’), this would be an even better summary of the entire story that what I wrote.

I also suspect there is a touch of autobiography. The China where Jin Yong grew up was torn between various groups vying for control. In high school, he was punished for insulting the government in power.

As an adult, he moved to Hong Kong, where he has definitely lived a life full of books and letters … yet he could do almost nothing about the political situation in China. Many people say that Jin Yong had supported the Chinese Communist Party (some people say he is still a communist). This novel was written during the Cultural Revolution.

I am far from done…

So come back next week for Part 2!

Last week, Sara K. helped make some mud volcanic tofu, and then ate it. Why is it called mud volcanic tofu? It’s made from soybeans, water, and mud from a mud volcano. It actually tastes quite good.

It Came From the Sinosphere: Laughing In the Wind (Part 2)

August 27, 2013 by Sara K. Leave a Comment

Read part 1

What Sense of Vision!

I have come to really appreciate the films of Li Han-hsiang. He once studied to be a painter, and it really shows in the way that his films are full of beautifully framed. He also happens to be one of the most influential Chinese-language movie directors ever.

This drama gives me the same sense of wonderfully arranged images (the people who made this drama most likely studied the work of Li Han-hsiang during their film studies).

I mentioned the gorgeous scenery in the previous post, but there is much more to making a visually beautiful TV drama than selecting locations well. Aside from the natural scenery, this drama has a dazzling abundance of striking imagery.

Take, for example, this picture of Lin Pingzhi:

I really like the way the windows (with its square pattern) frames Lin Pingzhi, and I like the way Lin Pingzhi’s body contrasts with the shadow of his right arm.

And here’s a shot of Yue Buqun and Ning Zhongze (though it’s hard to tell it’s them):

I think we can agree that it’s not the setting itself that is impressive, but the composition of the stone structure, the sun, the mountains, and the figures which stands out. There’s also the effect of the light and prevalence of grey (which really fits the mood of this particular scene).

And look at these two women in the cave:

It’s a nice cave, but what really makes this image work is the thin, diagonal slit through which we can see the characters. Diagonal lines are generally more eye-catching than horizontal or vertical lines.

I could keep on pulling more and more examples if I wanted, because this TV drama simply has so much fantastically composed images. I just need to pick a random spot in a random episode in order to find more noteworthy images in a short time.

There’s also the attention paid to the characters’ appearances. For example, Yu Canghai and his Qingcheng sect have rather imaginative costumes…

… with the final touch being that, when he’s in a serious fight, he pulls various colorful masks out from his hyperspace arsenal.

And then there are the visual metaphors. For example, as Ren Yingying and Linghu Chong’s romantic feelings grown into a committed relationship, a group of ducklings grow into ducks. And, considering that this is wuxia, and that to be real wuxia, a story has to present someone weeping over an injured/dying loved one (or at the very least subvert this trope), I find it appropriate that we see the mature ducks as Ren Yingying weeps over a bashed-up Linghu Chong for the first time.

This TV drama truly is a feast for the eyes.

… And There’s the Ending

This is such a good drama … and then, at the end, it drops the ball.

Obviously, I cannot describe the problems with the ending in detail without spoilers. But I think I can make some general, spoiler-free observations.

The best comparison I can make (which would be familiar to MangaBookshelf readers) is the first Neon Genesis Evangelion anime. The last two episodes are infamous for disappointing viewers. Of course, that wasn’t the ending which was originally planned, but Gainax went over-budget, so they needed and ending which could be produced cheaply.

In spite of the last two episodes, I still think that Neon Genesis Evangelion is one of the greatest anime ever made (I pretend that the original anime ends at episode 24). Likewise, I think that, in spite of the last few episodes, Laughing in the Wind is one of the best Chinese-language dramas I’ve ever seen.

Furthermore, the last few episodes are still as visually fantastic as the entire drama.

The fact that the ending of Laughing In the Wind diverges from the original novel is not the problem. However, if you change the ending of a good story, you need to change things throughout the story in order to maintain consistency. The Ang Lee version of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was good about making the necessary changes throughout the story so that, when it does have an ending different from the original novel, it feels natural to the audience. Yet the the ending of the original novel would have felt more natural in Laughing In the Wind than the ending which the drama actually has. To me, that indicates that a) they had probably originally intended to have an ending closer to the one in the original novel and b) the choice to change the ending was probably not made for artistic reasons.

So why change the ending? I can speculate…

– Budget. I don’t think the original ending would have been any more expensive to produce, but maybe I’m wrong about that, and this show went over-budget just like Neon Genesis Evangelion (I can easily believe that it went over-budget at least).
– Other Production Reasons. Maybe they were originally promised 45 episodes, and then an executive somewhere told them that it can only be 40 episodes long.
– Audience Reaction. Maybe they thought audiences wouldn’t like the original ending so much. In that case, they are wrong – I have never seen/read any complaints about the ending of the original novel, whereas I have encountered quite a few complaints about the way that Laughing in the Wind ends.
– Political. It’s well known that many people interpret this story as a political allegory, so maybe some censor wanted to change the ending to de-politicize it. But I think this would have been a silly move. The original, uncensored novel is currently widely available in China, so changing the ending to make it more politically palatable seems pointless.

I think ‘Budget’ and ‘Other Production Reasons’ are the most likely speculations.

Personally, I pretend that Laughing in the Wind ends the same way as the novel.

Availability in English

I’ve already mentioned that it’s available, in its entirety, on Dramafever. It’s also available on Region 1 DVDs with English subtitles, which you can find for sale on the internet very quickly using ordinary search techniques.

Conclusion

This drama feels like it was put together by an exquisite artisan. The casting of the actors is excellent, the scenery is spectacular, the script (barring the last few episodes) is superb, the costumes are imaginative, etc.

Yet it manages to pull off this artistry without ever feeling pretentious. It does not show off its artistic excellence to the audience. Instead, it invites the audience to entire a space which has been curated for virtuosity. It doesn’t need to tell the audience that it’s good, it simply just is good.

I think it is this attention to detail, in addition to the strength of the story itself, which makes this drama such a delight to watch. Highly recommended.

And Then There’s State of Divinity

State of Divinity 1996 is yet another TV adaptation of the same novel. In fact, this novel has been adapted for television a whopping six times (including the 2013 adaptation, starry Joe Chen from Fated to Love You, not to mention two sets of movie adaptations (and this is before we talk about the manhua and video game adaptations).

However, people generally hold up Laughing in the Wind and State of Divinity as being the best adaptations of the novel. Though I’m not familiar with every adaptation, I agree, these are the two best. But how do these two compare with each other? You’ll find out, because next time my subject will be State of Divinity 1996.

And I’m going to lock up the lesser of these two TV adaptations in this cage.

Sara K. just happened to be away from Taiwan proper when a typhoon came along. This is why she was at Fuao harbor an hour and a half before they started selling tickets for the Taima ferry – and the line was already long (lots of flights had been cancelled). She did get a ferry ticket – and while the Taima ferries are usually quite smooth and comfortable, this last ride through an approaching typhoon was the most stomach-churching boat ride Sara K. has ever been on. And the ride lasted nine hours (to be fair, the first 4-5 hours were okay – the ferry wasn’t so close to the typhoon at first). She remained dizzy for over an hour after she reached land (she kept on wondering why the ground was shifting under her).

It Came from the Sinosphere: Lee Chi-Ching’s The Laughing Proud Wanderer

January 22, 2013 by Sara K. 11 Comments

An Example Scene

Linghu Chong notices that the young woman whom he is still very sweet on, Yue Lingshan, is unhappy.

Furthermore, he notices that her father and husband don’t care that she’s unhappy. He tries to think of a socially appropriate way to cheer her up.

Linghu Chong remembers that, when he was a part of Yue Lingshan’s family, he could always cheer her up by losing to her in a sword fight (without letting her know that he lost on purpose). Therefore, he figures the best way to cheer her up is to challenge her to duel.

Notice how the artwork first shows Linghu Chong and Yue Lingshan’s intense gazes, then goes back to show how the fight looks to the crowd – i.e. Linghu Chong and Yue Lingshan have now entered their own world, oblivious to everyone else.

The crowd notices that, while the fight is intense, the feeling is not of intense enmity, but a feeling of intense love. Somebody even remarks that it seems like they are dancing rather than fighting (ha, I am *not* the only person to consider the fights in Chinese martial arts fiction to be a kind of dancing).

I love those flowers. Methinks the artist has been exposed to shoujo manga.

This fight is bringing back Linghu Chong and Yue Lingshan’s memories of practising swordplay at Mount Hua, which was the happiest period in both of their lives. In fact, they are using the sword technique that they themselves made up together.

And this is why Jin Yong writes the best fights. Anyone who invests the time it takes to be a good martial artist has pretty strong feelings about it, and in Jin Yong stories, the fights are a key means by which characters express their feelings, grow, and mature. I have yet to encounter another storyteller who so thoroughly integrates combat and the characters’ emotional journeys.

Yue Lingshan’s husband is jealous. Personally, since he doesn’t care about his wife’s happiness (or lack thereof), I think he has forfeited his prerogative to feel jealous.

A sword has been launched into the air!

And it lands on Linghu Chong’s back (Linghu Chong let this happen so that Yue Lingshan would win).

Everyone, especially Yue Lingshan herself, is shocked that she injured Linghu Chong, except Linghu Chong, who is busy enduring the pain of having a sword in his back.

The reader knows that purposefully losing this duel is a potential disaster for Linghu Chong and the people he is responsible for, but it would take at least a paragraph to explain the context, so I’ll just say that the reader should feel an impending sense of doom at this point.

Background

The Laughing Proud Wanderer is, of course, one of Jin Yong’s more famous novels. It should not come as a surprise to anyone who read my post about Lee Chi-Ching’s The Eagle-Shooting Heroes that I would eventually review the other manhua adaptation of a Jin Yong novel. This novel is also special to me for a personal reason, but I plan to discuss that in a future post.

The Laughing Proud Wanderer was written during the Cultural Revolution in China, and it’s pretty obvious that Cold War politics strongly influenced the novel. Some people even go so far as to say that it’s a political allegory. I prefer not to interpret it as an allegory, but allegories are fun, so I’m going to describe the story in allegorical terms using the most common interpretation (Five Mountain Sword Sects = Soviet Union, etc.)

Story

Linghu Chong is a disciple of the Hua Mountain Sect, which is part of the Soviet Union. He a bit of a loose cannon. He tries to do the right thing, but this sometimes gets him in trouble. Furthermore, in situations when most Jin Yong heroes would run away, he says, “Bwa ha ha ha ha ha, I am Linghu Chong, I’m NOT SCARED OF YOU! HA HA HA HA HA!” even when he is clearly no match for whatever he’s facing, which leads to him getting bashed up a lot and spending at least half of the story recovering from injuries he could have avoided by running away. It’s a bit astonishing that he manages to survive all this.

Anyway, the Soviet Union is sworn enemies with the Chinese Communist Party, led by Mao Zedong, and has a … tense relationship with Shaolin, Wudang, and Emei, which belong to NATO.

Linghu Chong gets kicked out of the Hua Mountain Sect, which causes him much angst because he has been brainwashed by the Soviet Union, and is in love with his shifu’s daughter, Yue Lingshan. During his wanderings, he encounters another young woman, Ren Yingying, and slowly develops a relationship with her, but then it’s revealed that she is part of the Chinese Communist Party. which, according to the Soviet Union, is totally evil.

Of course, the intrigue gets thicker. Joseph Stalin, who already leads the most powerful sect in the Soviet Union, wants to bring the entire Soviet Union under his control, and Mao Zedong has imprisoned Ren Yingying’s father and taken over the Chinese Communist Party. Linghu Chong does not want to deal with this, but he has a clue of what’s at stake and, unfortunately for him, NATO, the Chinese Communist Party, and especially the Soviet Union want to deal with him.

Artwork

Many of the comments I made about the artwork in Lee Chi Ching’s The Eagle-Shooting Heroes also apply to this manhua, though there aren’t nearly as many tears in this one. Linghu Chong is the *laughing/smiling* proud wanderer, not the weepy proud wanderer.

Lee Chi-Ching is still a master of depicting movements of the human body.

Lee Chi-Ching’s style, of course, is heavily influenced by Japanese manga, but he also draws upon the long history of Chinese brush-ink paintings, which makes the manhua feel more distinctively Chinese (this was, if I remember correctly, one of the reasons Jin Yong was interested in having Lee Chi-Ching adapt and illustrate his novels).

Additionally, this manhua has a few color pages, like the ones below.

The palette is quite muted, unlike the palettes seen in most Hong Kong manhua, or Japanese manga (or American comics for that matter). It most resembles the color palettes found in traditional Chinese paintings. Since the color is used to highlight particular moments, I wouldn’t want the entire manhua to be in color, but I would have definitely liked more color pages (perhaps having the manhua be 10% in color).

Two characters who I think Lee Chi-ching did a particularly good job of depicting are Yue Lingshan and Yue Buqun.

Yue Lingshan is upset

Lee Chi-Ching says Yue Buqun is one of his favorite characters, and I can see that in the artwork (one of the color examples above shows Yue Buqun). I also think he got Yue Lingshan just right. This manhua deepened my appreciation of both of these characters.

However, comparing this to The Eagle-Shooting Heroes, I find that the art in The Eagle-Shooting Heroes is ultimately more striking. I think this mainly due to the differences in the stories. The Eagle-Shooting Heroes is a story where characters are constantly wearing their hearts on their sleeves and feels like an epic folk tale, whereas The Laughing Proud Wanderer is a more intellectual story in which characters do a lot of thinking and often don’t reveal their true feelings, and the plot is much more complicated, so it simply does not lend itself as well to striking artwork (unless one wishes to distort the story).

Adaptation

This time, I read the novel before reading the manhua.

On the one hand, I’m a bit disappointed that it removed one of my favorite scenes. On the other hand, I recognize that this story is so long that Lee Chi-ching almost had to abridge it, and that the scene is not essential to the main story.

Impressively, Lee Chi-ching did manage to keep most scenes from the novel, but he often slimmed them down—I often notice that specific bits of dialogue I remembered were not present in the manhua. It is a compliment to Jin Yong’s writing skill that I was able to remember so many bits of dialogue more than six months after having read the novel, yet at the same time I think slimming down the dialogue was the right choice; having too many words would have bogged down the manhua’s pacing, and people who really want that should read the bloody novel.

While it’s not identical to the novel, I feel this is faithful to the spirit of the novel, and while it’s always possible to find something to complain about, I still think this is, overall, an excellent adaptation, and I don’t think anybody else would have done it better.

Dongfang Bubai

Dongfang Bubai and his/her lover

It would take an entire post for me to describe what I think about the depiction of Dongfang Bubai and certain other characters, so let’s just say that I think it’s transphobic, homophobic, and sexist.

Given the source material, I think Lee Chi-ching’s depiction was as inoffensive as it could be while staying faithful to the original … with one exception.

In both the novel and the manhua, Linghu Chong says that it’s laughable that a sect leader would dress as a woman. First of all, there’s Huang Rong in The Eagle Shooting-Heroes who is a sect leader and usually dresses like a woman, but maybe she doesn’t count because she’s cis-female. And for some reason, people don’t think it’s shameful for women to dress as men (which happens quite often in Jin Yong stories).

However, in the novel, Linghu Chong later on ends up dressing like a woman himself, demonstrating that masculine heroes are just as capable of dressing like women as anybody else. This is one of the things which ameliorates the transphobia in the story. Unfortunately, this scene is cut in the manhua. I am almost certain this was in order to make the story move faster, but I still wish it had been kept, if only to counteract the transphobia/sexism.

Lee Chi-ching’s Afterwords

Each volume of this manhua ends with an afterword from Lee Chi-ching, and these were actually quite interesting. Almost all of them contain a sketch of himself, like this one:

He sometimes talks about Hong Kong current events (such as the transfer to People’s Republic of China rule and the SARS epidemic), he sometimes talks about the personal meaning The Laughing Proud Wanderer has for him (it’s his favorite Jin Yong novel, which is why he was so stoked when Jin Yong asked him to adapt it), and he talks about his artistic ambitions, as well as the other projects he’s working on (such as illustrating all of Jin Yong’s novels for the large-print edition).

Of particular interest to Manga Bookshelf readers are his comments about Korean manhwa. I knew one reason Jin Yong licensed manhua adaptations of his novels was to counter the influence of Japanese manga, but I hadn’t realized that the Hong Kong manga industry also feels invaded by Korean manhwa. Lee Chi-ching tries to see the competition with Korean manhwa as an inspiration to try harder.

Availability in English

I wish.

Conclusion

Whenever I return to an artist I love, I always wonder if the artist is as great as I recall, or whether a given work will fail to meet my high expectations. Sometimes I am disappointed, but this time I was not. Instead, this manhua reminded me why Lee Chi-ching is one of my favorite comic book artists in any language.

Next Time: Sword Stained with Royal Blood (TV series) (yes, it’s a Jin Yong double whammy)

When you like going outside and live in Northern Taiwan, that means the weather has a great deal of control over your schedule. The weather has been unusually good lately (by local standards), so Sara K. barely finished this post on time.