This page is referenced by:

• 1 2024-10-31T10:24:42+00:00 Saving a Courtesan
  趙盼兒風月救風塵 34 plain 2025-01-30T01:34:24+00:00

  ---

  CONTENTS

  You can find modules that analyze various adaptations of Saving a Courtesan at the links below. To get a sense of the main themes and historical import of the original Saving a Courtesan, please consult the "General Background" below.
  1. Rescuing One’s Sister in the Wind and Dust (2021)
     • "Ghosts as an Intercultural Bridge," a module on the English-language spoken play adaptation of Saving a Courtesan.
  2.  A Dream of Splendor 梦华录 (2022)
     • "Dramatic Irony through Editing and Character Addition," a module on the mainland Chinese television series adaptation of Saving a Courtesan.

  GENERAL BACKGROUND

  Female entertainers were prominent participants in the cultural life of Chinese courts from the earliest times onward. They were engaged in the art of music and dancing among others. In time, female entertainers also took up residence in the pleasure quarters of Chinese cities (Feng, City of Marvel and Transformation, 111-134). In those urban environments, literati and courtesans met up in private mansions and courtesan houses (Fig. 1), generating a rich fount of stories that centered around talent, sexual passion, and marriage and career prospects.
  Hovering over these encounters was the question of whether a liaison between a literatus and courtesan was a short-lived, youthful adventure or whether such an affair would lead to a more permanent union. In this regard, men and women were often at cross-purposes—examination candidates were meant to enjoy such pleasures in advance of their examination success and then move on with their official careers followed by a marriage to a respectable woman of their own social class. The courtesans, by contrast, were supposed to earn money for their madams for as long as they were young and attractive and milk their patrons for what they were worth. At the same time, despite all the riches, glamor, and fame that might attend their courtesan life, they also needed to be concerned about their long-term marital prospects. 
  
  The standard aspiration for a young courtesan was to eventually “ascend to commoner status” (congliang 從良), an act of marriage or more likely concubinage that would ideally release the woman from her indentured status (owing someone the earnings of her labor), strike her name from the register of entertainers (a governmental household registration with associated restrictions), and give her a modicum of respectability and security (especially if she bore a son). However, finding a suitable mate for such a union was easier said and longed for than done. In a passage in a famous story about a glamorous courtesan and a humble oil-peddler (“Maiyou lang duzhan huakui” 賣油郎獨占花魁), a seasoned courtesan outlines the many possible ways in which this marital transition, or what is referred to as “getting out” below, might turn out: 

  There is the real getting-out, the false getting-out, the miserable getting out, the happy getting-out, the well-timed getting-out, the last-resort getting out, the once-and-for-all getting out, and the short-lived getting out
  有個真從良，有個假從良，有個苦從良，有個樂從良，有個趁好的從良，有個沒奈何的從良，有個了從良，有個不了的從良
  (Yang and Yang, trans., Stories to Awaken the World, 47). 

  Prose tales (chuanqi 傳奇) explored the happy getting out (“The Story of Li Wa,” 李娃傳) and the false getting-out (“The Story of Huo Xiaoyu,” 霍小玉傳) (Luo, Literati Storytelling in Late Medieval China, 108-117). Later, the ballad (zhugong diao 諸宮調) and song traditions (sanqu 散曲) worked over the story of scholar Shuang Jian 雙漸 and courtesan Su Xiaoqiao 蘇小卿, ranging across a variety of exit scenarios, including a happy ending (Chen, “Emotion, Money, and Beauty”).
  
  When Guan Hanqing (ca. 1220-after 1279), zaju theater’s foundational playwright, tried his hand at this material, he charted new terrain. Of the three extant courtesans plays attributed to him, Zhao Pan’er with Romance Saves a Courtesan (Zhao Pan’er fengyue jiu fengchen 趙盼兒風月救風塵), is arguably the most edgy. Saving a Courtesan is likely one of the first plays not just in Chinese, but in world literature, to tackle the theme of domestic violence against women in a serious manner. In the face of male violence, the play cleverly turns the convention of female rivalry over men on its head and instead puts female friendship and solidarity at the heart of its dramatic conflict. To save or not to save a foolish courtesan friend from the hands of a violent abuser—that is the question her fellow courtesan and sworn sister has to confront. What might have inspired Guan to create such an original plot? Here the brief two-line synopsis at the end of the play (timu zhengming 題目正名) gives us some clues:

  Thinking of the [Bodhisattva] Guanyin’s power to save others [in her incarnation as a courtesan],
  The story instead applies [these expedient means] to save a courtesan herself.
  Double-faced and full of hanky-panky
  “Wind and moon” (e.g., romance) saves “wind and dust” (e.g., a courtesan) (655).

  In these short four lines, the play invokes two well-known Buddhist tropes. On the one hand, the verb “to save” (jiu 救) reminded audiences of the famous Buddhist story, “Mulian Saves His Mother” (Mulian jiumu 目連救母), a popular tale about one of the Buddha’s chief disciples descending into the deepest hells to rescue his mother from the grueling tortures reserved for sinners like herself. A dramatic version of this story had been popular since at least the Song dynasty. On the other hand, the play also alludes to another Buddhist trope, namely that of the Bodhisattva Guanyin manifesting as a courtesan (see Fig. 2) in order to enlighten lustful men and induce them to become Buddhist devotees, an idea that had been popularized in Buddhist scriptures and other writings (Li, Becoming Guanyin, 25-58). 
  
  Yuan-dynasty courtesans picked up on this idea by giving themselves the name “Slave of Guanyin” (Guanyin nu 觀音奴) (Xia, Qinglou ji, 188), while contemporaneous songs and plays routinely likened courtesans to Guanyin or even to a “living Guanyin” (huo Guanyin 活觀音). In Guan’s plot, a courtesan does not direct her efforts at salvation towards a male client of the pleasure quarters. Instead, she seeks to not only enlighten a fellow courtesan about the dangers of romance, but ends up saving her from certain death at hands of her lover-turned-abuser. 
  
  Guan’s play makes full use of zaju’s new convention of giving marginal female characters a morally authoritative voice. At the story’s heart is Zhao Pan’er 趙盼兒, the main female lead (zhengdan 正旦) and a spirited and sympathetic veteran of the courtesan profession living in the capital Kaifeng. Pan’er’s name reflects the play’s clever play with conventions. “Panpan” 盼盼 is the name of a Tang-dynasty courtesan that literary icon Su Shi 蘇軾 (1037-1101) had immortalized in a song-lyric, a name that at least one Yuan dynasty entertainer adopted for herself (Xia, Qinglou ji, 118). It is fair to conclude Guan gave his protagonist’s name an ironic twist. “Pan’er” can refer to a “maid,” but as Zhao makes clear, she is beholden to no one. In Yuan parlance, the character “pan” could also mean to “to long for.” Yet as much as Pan’er might “long” for a “happy getting-out” with someone who would “long for” her, she concludes that such an outcome is unattainable. In her view, given all the “unhappy getting outs” that she has witnessed (“those who married previously have been wrecked to the point where their demeanor is that of emaciated ghosts,” 637), she forswears marriage as a prospect that is even less desirable than being a courtesan: 

  Looking upon those handsome young women who sought out a future path (by getting married),
  Over the last several days, I have resolved
  That I will never in my whole life allow for any man to pin me down with his you-know-what (637).   

  However, the main plot of the story does not revolve around Pan’er’s marriage fortunes, but around the “hunky-dory-turns-nightmarish getting out” of her sworn sister, Song Yinzhang 宋引章, a younger fellow courtesan (cast as an “additional female”; waidan 外旦). Yinzhang is enamored of Zhou She 周舍, the son of a wealthy official; he is solicitous to a fault, showering Yinzhang with all sorts of small favors. When he proposes marriage, Yinzhang is ecstatic to leave her profession behind to share her life with the “handsome,” “adorable,” and “considerate” Zhou She. However, her mother and especially Zhao Pan’er have grave misgivings about Zhou She’s character and advise against the match. While the mother ultimately indulges her daughter’s wishes, Pan’er is sure that Zhou is nothing but a playboy, who will tire of Yinzhang before long and mistreat her: “Punching you with his fists and kicking you with his legs, he’ll beat you till you wail loudly” (639). Blithely brushing aside Pan’er’s warnings, Yinzhang insists that this is her best chance at a happy getting out: “I will make a name for myself as a respectable wife, and even as a ghost, I would be very stylish” (fengliu 風流) (638).  When Pan’er is willing to vouch for Yinzhang’s former boyfriend, impoverished Scholar An Xiushi 安秀實, as an alternate spouse, she angrily rejects the prospect of “beating our beggar’s clappers together” (638) (Act 1). 
  
  Upon her arrival at Zhou She’s residence in Zhengzhou, things turn out even worse than Pan’er had predicted. As Yinzhang laments: “No sooner had I entered the gate than I was given fifty strokes of the cane . . . Good heavens! You will beat me to death!” (642). In earlier skits (yuanben 院本, shehuo 社火), physical altercations between men and women often had comic overtones (see Fig. 3), but in keeping with the newfound seriousness of zaju theatre, in Guan’s play, such violence was no longer simply a comic device to entertain audiences. Instead, the play portrays the horror of being on the receiving end of physical brutality. Certain that she will die at the hands of her abuser, Yinzhang swallows her pride and secretly sends a missive to her mother describing her plight and pleading for Pan’er’s help:
  
  “It’s beatings in the morning and being cursed at in the evening. Hurry and plead with Sister Zhao to come and save me” (644). Zhao agonizes over whether or not to oblige, but in the end, she resolves to travel to Zhengzhou to rescue “you, the ill-fated one, whose body is aching all over” (645). Invoking the trope of the famous trio of sworn brothers of the Peach Orchard, Pan’er reminds herself to be a woman of her word: “If you, Zhao Pan’er, don’t save one who might die today,/You’ll put to shame the oaths of sisterhood sworn over a white horse and a black ox” (643). Thereupon, Pan’er devises a clever plan designed to goad Zhou She into divorcing Yinzhang and marry herself instead (Act 3). As Pan’er puts it: 

  Day after day, that scoundrel does not rest his hand.
  Wherever the unfeeling rod comes down,
  That’s where fresh blood flows from your body.
  Day after day you are treated like a condemned criminal. . . .
  I’ll show my painted face to save you, this battered spring ox (nüchunniu 女春牛).
  No matter what the risks, I will try everything and stop at nothing.
  Let him curse me all he wants.
  It is not that I talk big,
  But how could he counter my romantic punches? (645) 

  Fraudulent writs of divorce figured prominently in other courtesan stories (Chen, “Emotion, Money, and Beauty,” 108-09), but in Guan’s play, Zhao skillfully extracts an actual writ of divorce and turns its judicial verification by a credulous judge into one of the legal levers that frees Yinzhang from Zhou She’s clutches (Act 4). 
  
  The exact denouement of the original play depends on which of the two extant sixteenth and seventeenth century editions one consults. In the earlier, more subversive Gumingjia zaju edition (古名家雜劇 Famous Old Masters Plays, ca. 1580s), Zhao Pan’er tells the judge that Song Yinzhang already had a husband, namely Scholar An, whom we encountered in Act 1. We know this claim to be a lie, but the judge is deceived by Pan’er’s ruse and, though fully aware of Zhou She’s family background, sentences him to sixty strokes of the cane and to conscript labor with commoners. We don’t know whether the alleged marriage to Scholar An is merely a ploy to extricate Song Yinzhang from Zhou She or whether Song Yinzhang will in fact follow through with the court order and take him as a spouse. Earlier, she had rejected him on the grounds that she had no stomach for becoming a “beggar’s wife.” In a similar vein, in keeping with the Buddhist-inspired synopsis of the play, perhaps Song Yinzhang might follow in Zhao Pan’er’s footsteps and forego future marriages. Thus, the ending of this version is ambiguous. 
  
  By contrast, Zang Maoxun’s 臧懋循 (1550-162) Select Yuan Plays (Yuanqu xuan 元曲選, 1615/16), leans into a more conventional happy ending modeled on the Shuang Jian/Su Xiaoqing romance. As was frequently the case, Zang took liberties with the text and added new arias, new plot elements, and a new synopsis. In this version, alerted by Pan’er about the court proceedings around the divorce papers, An Xiushi makes an appearance at court. Bidden by Pan’er to claim that he is the fiancé of Song Yinzhang, An accuses Zhou of having forcibly abducted Yinzhang, a claim that Zhao Pan’er is willing to serve as a guarantor for in front of the judge. In that final act, Pan’er also sings two contrastive arias, one excoriating Zhou She for being a “vicious brute,” the other commending An Xiushi’s for his “Confucian learning.” Thus, contrary to Pan’er’s earlier skepticism about all types of suitors, Zang’s ending redeems the scholar as a viable marriage partner after all. 
  
  Many of Guan Hanqing’s plays have an acutely modern feel to them, perhaps none more so than Saving a Courtesan. Yet, despite the obvious resonances with contemporary issues, adapting this particular play has proven to be particularly challenging. 
   

  WORKS CONSULTED CLICK TO EXPAND/COLLAPSE

  Chen, Tianjun. “Emotion, Money, and Beauty: Variation and Innovation in the Story of Shuan Jian and Su Xiaoqing.” CHINOPERL: Journal of Chinese Oral and Performing Literature 42: 2 (2023): 99-129.

  Guan Hanqing 關漢卿. “Zhao Pan’er fengyue jiu fengchen” 趙盼兒風月救風塵. In Guan Hanqing quanji. 關漢卿全集 (The 1615/16 Zang Maoxun/Select Yuan Plays edition). Ann. Wang Xueqi 王學奇. Shijiazhuang: Hebei jiaoyu chubanshe, 1988.

  -----. “Zhao Pan’er fengyue jiu fengchen” 趙盼兒風月救風塵. In Guan Hanqing xiqu ji 關漢卿戲曲集 (The 1580s Guming jia edition). Ann. Wu Xiaoling 吳曉鈴. Beijing: Xiju chubanshe, 1958. My translations above refer to this edition.

  Kao George and Wai-yee Li, trans. “Rescuing a Sister.” In The Columbia Anthology of Yuan Drama, eds. C.T. Hsia, Wai-yee Li, and George Kao, 279-297 (Rhymed translation of the Guming jia edition).

  Li, Yuhang. Becoming Guanyin: Artistic Devotion of Buddhist Women in Late Imperial China. New York: Columbia University Press, 2020.

  Luo, Manling. Literati Storytelling in Late Medieval China. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2015.

  Owen, Stephen, ed. and trans., “Rescuing One of the Girls.” In his An Anthology of Chinese Literature: Beginnings to 1911, 744-770. New York and London: W.W. Norton, 1996 (Translation of the Zang Maoxun/Select Yuan Plays edition).

  Shuhui Yang and Yunqing Yang, trans., Stories to Awaken the World. Seattle: University of Washington, 2009. 

  Sieber, Patricia. "Comic Virtue and Commendable Vice: Guan Hanqing's Jiufeng chen and Wang Jiang ting." Ming Studies 1994: 43-64.

  Xia Tingzhi 夏庭芝. Qinglou ji jianzhu 青樓集箋注. Ann. Sun Chongtao 孫崇涛 and Xu Hongtu 徐宏圖. Beijing: Zhongguo xiju chubanshe, 1990. 

  AUTHOR

  Patricia Sieber