What's Good?
A Collection of Small Nice Things
So you're reading The Romance of the Western Chamber 西廂記, as one does, and you're reading it in an old woodblock edition, because obviously, and you're hooked. Young Student Zhang has driven away the Flying Tiger and his bandits, and for a moment it looks like there'll be nothing more to stand in the way of his marriage to the well-bred Cui Yingying – but Yingying's mother is having second thoughts about the promise she made. The young lovers have been relying on Yingying's sassy maidservant Hongniang to pass messages, but Yingying's mother is onto them.
Is all hope lost? (No.) Will true love prevail? (Yes.) But before you can find out what happens next, you’re confronted with a chatty little digression from the commentator: a list of delightful things, each ending with the words 不亦快哉 bù yì kuài zāi — “Is that not a delight?”1
This is Jin Shengtan's 金聖嘆 "Thirty-three Nice Things" 不亦快哉三十三則, a digression so powerful that it broke free of its original context to become widely known and beloved in its own right, even among the sort of people who do not habitually read pre-20th century editions of 17th-century commentaries on 13th-century updates of 12th-century dramatizations of 9th-century romantic fiction. I thought I might cheer myself up by translating it, and when I was done I thought my friends might enjoy it. I hope you will too.
昔與斵山同客共住，霖雨十日，對床無聊，因約賭說快事，以破積悶。至今相距既二十年，亦都不自記憶。偶因讀《西廂》至“拷豔”一篇，見紅娘口中作如許快文，恨當時何不檢取共讀，何積悶之不破。於是反自追索，猶憶得數則，附之左方。但不能辨何句是斵山語，何句是聖嘆語矣。
Once, when Zhuoshan2 and I were lodging together, a ten-day stretch of rain left us stuck indoors with nothing to do but stare at the furniture, and we decided to go back and forth listing happy things to break up the boredom. This was twenty years ago, and I’d forgotten all about it until I read this section of The Romance of the Western Chamber, “The Questioning,” saw the wonderful lines the author gives Hongniang, and found myself wishing Zhuoshan and I had thought to read the play together. Boredom wouldn’t have stood a chance!
After searching my memory I was able to recover a few of the things we said, which I’ve listed below, but I can’t tell which lines are Zhuoshan’s and which are mine.
夏七月，赤日停天，亦無風，亦無雲；前後庭赫然如洪爐，無一鳥敢來飛。汗出遍身，縱橫成渠。置飯於前，不可得吃。呼簟欲臥地上，則地溼如膏，蒼蠅又來緣頸附鼻，驅之不去。正莫可如何，忽然大黑車軸，疾澍澎湃之聲，如數百萬金鼓。簷溜浩於瀑布。身汗頓收，地燥如掃，蒼蠅盡去，飯便得吃 —— 不亦快哉！
Summer: the seventh month, when the crimson sun parks itself in the sky and there’s no wind or clouds; when the front and back yards are furnaces; when no birds fly and the sweat runs down your body and you can’t make yourself touch the meal in front of you; when you call for a cool mat to lie on but the ground makes it instantly clammy, when flies are circling your head and trying to land on your nose and nothing will make them go away,
And you’re just about to throw up your hands when all of a sudden the sky goes dark and there's a rumbling and battering like a million battle drums, and the rain pours down in mighty cataracts from the eaves — and there’s your sweat gone, and the clamminess of the ground, and the flies too, and your appetite back again —
— and if that isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
十年別友，抵暮忽至。開門一揖畢，不及問其船來陸來，並不及命其坐床坐榻，便自疾趨入內，卑辭叩內子；“君豈有斗酒如東坡婦乎？”內子欣然拔金簪相付。計之可作三日供也 —— 不亦快哉！
A friend I haven't seen in ten years shows up one evening. I greet him and immediately dash back inside, even before asking how he got here or inviting him to have a seat, to ask my wife: "I don't suppose you could make like Su Dongpo's old lady3 and bring us a dipperful of wine?" And she cheerfully pulls the gold pin out of her hair and we figure it'll cover three days' worth of drinking —
— if that’s not nice, what is?
空齋獨坐，正思夜來床頭鼠耗可惱，不知其戛戛者是損我何器，嗤嗤者是裂我何書。中心回惑，其理莫措，忽見一狻貓，注目搖尾，似有所覩。斂聲屏息，少復待之，則疾趨如風，唧然一聲，而此物竟去矣 —— 不亦快哉！
I'm sitting alone in my study with a mouse on my mind. I’m wondering which of my things that nibbling sound is coming from, which book's destruction is the source of that chewing noise, and quite at a loss for what to do — when out of nowhere I spot a vicious-looking cat, eyes blazing, tail lashing, gaze fixed on something I can’t see, and I hold my breath and watch as it darts forward, quick as the wind, and with a piteous squeak that little critter is gone for good —
— ahhhh, you love to see it.
於書齋前，拔去垂絲海棠紫荊等樹，多種芭蕉一二十本 —— 不亦快哉！
I pulled up the tamarisk, crab-apple, and redbud trees in front of my study and put down a couple dozen plantain trees instead —
— how’s that for nice?
春夜與諸豪士快飲，至半醉，住本難住，進則難進。旁一解意童子，忽送大紙炮可十餘枚，便自起身出席，取火放之。硫磺之香，自鼻入腦，通身怡然 —— 不亦快哉！
I'm drinking happily with friends some spring evening, half-drunk already and having trouble either stopping or drinking more, when a nearby serving-boy sees my dilemma and brings over a dozen firecrackers. I get up and leave the group to set them off. The gunpowder tang spreads from my nostrils to my brain, and a wave of contentment washes over me —
— if that isn’t nice, I don't know what is.
街行見兩措大執爭一理，既皆目裂頸赤，如不戴天，而又高拱手，低曲腰，滿口仍用者也之乎等字。其語刺刺，勢將連年不休。忽有壯夫掉臂行來，振威從中一喝而解 —— 不亦快哉！
I see two low-rent scholars out on the street arguing over a Matter of Principle — eyes bulging, necks crimson, this world not big enough for the two of them — and still they're clasping their hands respectfully and bowing deeply and maintaining a stream of high classical fustian, verbally jabbing and parrying like they could keep this up for years, when suddenly a big bruiser comes barreling up and shouts at them and they waste no time taking themselves off —
— if that's not soul-gladdening, you tell me what is.
子弟背誦書爛熟，如瓶中瀉水 —— 不亦快哉！
When the younger generation can recite the classics by heart as easily as you might pour water from a vase —
— if that doesn't cheer you up, what will?
飯後無事，入市閒行，見有小物，戲復買之，買亦已成矣，所差者甚少，而市兒苦爭，必不相饒，便掏袖下一件，其輕重與前直相上下者，擲而與之。市兒改笑容，拱手連稱不敢 —— 不亦快哉！
Strolling through the market after dinner for lack of anything better to do, I spot some little doodad, and after playing with it for a while decide to buy it, and the deal is all but done except for an extremely minor disagreement on the price, and the shop-boy keeps arguing and neither of us is going to give an inch, and I take some other little trinket that’s worth about as much as the difference out of my sleeve and toss it his way. Suddenly the shop-boy is all smiles and he clasps his hands and tells me I'm awfully generous —
— if that’s not nice, what is?
飯後無事，翻倒敞篋。則見新舊逋欠文契不下數十百通，其人或存或亡，總之無有還理。揹人取火拉雜燒淨，仰看高天，蕭然無雲 —— 不亦快哉！
Rummaging through some old chests after dinner for lack of anything better to do, I discover dozens of unpaid promissory notes, more than a hundred maybe, from borrowers variously living and dead, and uniformly unlikely to repay, and so when nobody's looking I pile them together higgledy-piggledy, set them on fire, burn them clean away, and then look up at the sky, where they leave not even a cloud behind —
— if that's not a good feeling, I don't know what is.
夏月科頭赤足，自持涼傘遮日，看壯夫唱吳歌，踏桔槔。水一時奔湧而上，譬如翻銀滾雪 —— 不亦快哉！
Hatless and barefoot under my parasol on a summer day, I watch a burly fellow working a well-pump and singing Suzhou folk songs. The water comes up in a sudden burst, like a spill of silver coins or a gust of snow —
— if that isn't nice, I don't know what is.
春眠初覺，似聞家人嘆息之聲，言某人夜來已死。急呼而訊之，正是-城中第一絕有心計人 —— 不亦快哉！
I'm just waking up one spring morning when I seem to hear someone in my household sighing and saying something about somebody dying the night before. Startled awake, I ask who. It turns out to be the schemingest bastard in town —
— if that doesn’t cheer you up, nothing will.
夏月早起，看人於松棚下，鋸大竹作筒用 —— 不亦快哉！
Getting up early in summer and watching people at work under a pine pergola, sawing stout bamboos to make pipes —
— if that’s not nice, what is?
重陰匝月，如醉如病，朝眠不起，忽聞眾鳥畢作弄晴之聲，急引手搴帷，推窗視之，日光晶熒，林木如洗 —— 不亦快哉！
After a whole month of gloom and rain and me staying in bed as if I had a hangover or an illness, I hear a chorus of birds announcing clear skies, and I hurriedly lift the curtain and open the window to see the sun shining brightly, the trees glistening —
— if that doesn’t cheer you up, what will?
夜來似聞某人素心，明日試往看之。入其門，窺其閨，見所謂某人，方據案面南看一文書。顧客入來，默然一揖。便拉袖命坐，曰：“君既來，可亦試看此書。”相與歡笑，日影盡去。既已自飢，徐問客曰：“君亦飢耶？” 不亦快哉！
One night, I get the feeling that someone is thinking of me, and decide to pay him a visit the next day. Entering his home, I peek into his room and see this person sitting properly at his desk, reading some bit of official business. He greets me silently and pulls me over by the sleeve to sit down. "Have a look at this," he says, "since you're here." The two of us chat and joke until the sun no longer casts any shadows. He gets hungry, and he asks: "I don't suppose you're hungry too?"
— If that isn't nice, I don't know what is.
本不欲造屋，偶得閒錢，試造一屋。自此日為始，需木，需石，需瓦，需磚，需灰，需釘，無晨無夕，不來聒於兩耳。乃至羅雀掘鼠，無非為屋校計，而又都不得屋住，既已安之如命矣。忽然一日屋竟落成。刷牆掃地，糊窗掛畫。一切匠作出門畢去，同人乃來分榻列坐 —— 不亦快哉！
I hadn't planned to build a house of my own, but then I came into a bit of money and decided to go for it. From that point on, not a day went by without me being told I needed lumber or stone or tiles or bricks or mortar or nails. So I scrimped and I saved and I worried and I fretted about the house I wasn't living in, and I resigned myself to this being my life now. And then one day the house was finished, the walls whitewashed, the floors swept, the paper windows pasted in, the paintings hung. The workmen left, and my friends came and sat down one by one on the couches —
— if that's not a good feeling, I don't know what is.
冬夜飲酒，轉復寒甚，推窗試看，雪大如手，已積三四寸矣 —— 不亦快哉！
Drinking on a winter's night, I feel a sudden sharp chill and push open the window to see snow falling in flakes the size of my hand, three or four inches deep already —
— if that isn't nice, I don't know what is.
夏日於硃紅盤中，自拔快刀，切綠沉西瓜 —— 不亦快哉！
On a summer’s day, take a sharp knife, slice up a bright green watermelon, and set it out on a deep vermilion plate —
— Well!
久欲為比丘，苦不得公然吃肉。若許為比丘，又得公然吃肉，則夏月以熱湯快刀，淨割頭髮 —— 不亦快哉！
For the longest time I've wanted to become a monk, but I get stuck on being unable to openly eat meat. If I could be a monk and eat meat, then in some summer month I'd fetch some hot water and a sharp knife and shave my head clean —
— and that would be a fine thing indeed.
存得三四癩瘡於私處，時呼熱湯關門澡之 —— 不亦快哉！
When you’ve got three or four itchy scabs in a private place, and you call for hot water and soak them behind closed doors —
— if that’s not nice, I don’t know what is.
篋中無意忽檢得故人手跡 —— 不亦快哉！
Sometimes, looking through a trunk, you find a letter from an old friend —
— that’s a kind of happiness too.
寒士來借銀，謂不可啟齒，於是唯唯亦說他事。我窺見其苦意，拉向無人處，問所需多少。急趨入內，如數給與，然後問其必當速歸料理是事耶？為尚得少留共飲酒耶？不亦快哉！
A hard-luck case comes to borrow money, but he can’t bring himself to say so and just talks about anything and everything else instead. Seeing his discomfort, I take him off to one side and ask how much he needs. I go fetch the money for him, then ask whether he has to be going or whether he’s free to stay for a drink —
— if that doesn’t feel good, you tell me what does.
坐小船，遇利風，苦不得張帆，一快其心。忽逢舟艑舸，疾行如風。試伸挽鉤，聊復挽之。不意挽之便著，因取纜，纜向其尾，口中高吟老杜“青惜峰巒過，黃知橘柚來”之句，極大笑樂 —— 不亦快哉！
I’m on a little boat when a favorable wind rises, and me without a sail to catch it. A big junk passes, moving quick as the wind, and since I’ve nothing better to do I try throwing my grapnel at it a few times. It catches, to my surprise, and the cable drags me along in the larger boat’s wake, singing Du Fu’s “Unmooring”4 at the top of my lungs and laughing for joy —
Green: too soon the peaks and ridges pass.
(The orange is the citrus trees ahead.)
— talk about happiness!
久欲覓別居與友人共住，而苦無善地。忽一人傳來云有屋不多，可十餘間，而門臨大河，嘉樹蔥然。便與此人共吃飯畢，試走看之，都未知屋如何。入門先見空地一片，大可六七畝許，異日瓜菜不足復慮 —— 不亦快哉！
For a long time I’ve wanted to find a place to live with a friend, but I haven’t been able to find a suitable location. Someone says he has a house, not too big — maybe a dozen rooms — and it faces onto the river, with lush trees around it on the other sides. After getting a meal with him, I go over to see the condition of the place for myself. The first thing I see when I step inside the gate is land, an acre or so. I’ll never be short of melons or vegetables again —
— if that’s not nice, what is?
久客得歸，望見郭門，兩岸童婦，皆作故鄉之聲 —— 不亦快哉！
Returning home after a long journey, you see the city gate come into view. All along the canal, women and children are calling to each other in your native language —
— if that doesn’t gladden your heart, what will?
佳磁既損，必無完理。反覆多看，徒亂人意。因宣付廚人作雜器充用，永不更令到眼 —— 不亦快哉！
When a piece of fine porcelain breaks there’s no mending it. The more you look at it the more it bothers you, until finally you tell the cook to use it as a spare container and never let it in your sight again —
— now there’s a relief!
身非聖人，安能無過。夜來不覺私作一事，早起怦怦，實不自安。忽然想到佛家有布薩之法，不自覆藏，便成懺悔，因明對生熟眾客，快然自陳其失 —— 不亦快哉！
I’m only human, which is to say I err. I did something of a private nature in my sleep last night, and it is an extremely uneasy morning until I remember that for Buddhists, to no longer conceal one’s sins is to repent of them. So the next day I go up to everyone I meet, friend and stranger alike, and happily describe my transgression —
— if that doesn’t put a smile on your face, what will?
看人作擘窠大書，不亦快哉！
Watching someone write big characters with a brush —
推紙窗放蜂出去，不亦快哉！
Opening a paper window and letting a bee out —
做縣官，每日打鼓退堂時，不亦快哉！
If I could be a county magistrate, and beat the drum to signal that the court’s business was done for the day —
看人風箏斷，不亦快哉！
Seeing someone else’s kite-string snap —
看野燒，不亦快哉！
Watching a wildfire —
還債畢，不亦快哉！
Paying off the last of a debt —
讀《虯髯客傳》，不亦快哉！
Reading The Stranger with the Curly Beard5 —
We'll leave Jin Shengtan here for now, reading his books and remembering happier times. The next time we check in with him it'll be almost a quarter century after his conversation with Zhuoshan. We'll talk about snappy retorts, vegetarian ham recipes, official corruption, the transfer of New World food crops, and one last ‘bù yì kuài zāi.’ There'll be some ground to cover between now and then, and probably a lot of tangents, detours, and wild goose chases — but hopefully it'll be worth the going.
Have a nice one. See you next time.
Lin Yutang's translation, the only other one I know of in English, consistently renders bù yì kuài zāi as “Ah, is this not happiness?” while Pierre Ryckmans' French translation goes with “Ah, quel délice!” throughout.
I vary the translation from item to item, and leave it off entirely after number 26, because I felt like it and because Jin Shengtan is, as of this writing, at least 361 years beyond caring one way or the other.
‘Zhuoshan’ is probably Wang Han 王瀚. Xu Shuofang 徐朔方 dates Jin’s commentary on The Romance of the Western Chamber to 1657 or slightly later, which would put Jin and Wang’s original list of nice things around 1637; see “Jin Shengtan nianpu 金聖嘆年譜” in Xu, Wan Ming qujia nianpu 晚明曲家年譜, 1.735.
In the Song-dynasty scholar-official Su Dongpo’s 蘇東坡 ‘Second Rhapsody on the Red Cliff’ (後赤壁賦), Su laments that he has no wine to offer his visitors, but his wife reveals that she’s kept a bit of wine stored away for just such an occasion: (我有鬥酒，藏之久矣，以待子不時之需)
Not gonna lie, I really wanted to translate the title as "I'm On A Boat."
Like Yuan Zhen’s 元稹 The Tale of Yingying 鶯鶯傳, which Western Chamber is based on, The Stranger with the Curly Beard is one of the major works of Tang-dynasty fiction. For the interested, Wang Jing has an exhaustively annotated translation and a very helpful Translator's Note in Bill Nienhauser's Tang Dynasty Tales: A Guided Reader, 189 ff.
Wonderful! Thanks for reminding me that literature from a different period can be equally as humorous in our time.
This is exactly what I needed today.