Teochew literature (2) - Reciting classical poetry in Teochew

Imagine a scholar or pupil from the old times reciting classical Chinese poetry… in your imagination, were they swivelling their heads with each verse? If so, you might have watched too many period dramas on TV. And did they recite it in Mandarin?

What if they were using their own “dialects” to recite the classics?

In this recording, an old woman from Têng’hai 澄海 district uses Teochew to recite the beginning of a famous poem by Sou Sêg (蘇軾 Su Shi), “Ode of the Red Cliffs” (transcription below). The video was posted by the Hong Kong Teochew Culture Association on their YouTube channel. In addition to using the Teochew pronunciation, she is also using a half-singing style of recitation, that has been called “chanting” or “cantillation”. The melody and rhythm of chanting helps in memorizing the text.

Before the 1920s, Chinese schoolchildren learned to read and write in Literary Chinese (文言 bhung5ngang5, also called 漢文 hang3bhung5), but when they read it out loud, they did not pronounce the words in modern Mandarin but with the pronunciation of their own “dialects”. Today, the only place where something like this is still the regular practice is Hong Kong, where pupils learn to write in Standard Written Chinese (i.e. Mandarin), but read it out loud with Cantonese pronunciation.

Literary Chinese is a completely different language from Teochew and Mandarin, just as Mandarin and Teochew are different from each other, even though they are all conventionally written with Chinese characters. Therefore, it is more accurate to say that a classical text is being recited “with Teochew pronunciation”, instead of being recited “in Teochew”. Likewise, it is incorrect to say that the original language of these poems is Mandarin.

This tradition shows the difference between vernacular and literary readings of the same character (文白異讀 bhung5bêh8 ig4tag8), which we have discussed in these pages before. It also shows how literary Chinese was really a book language that every reader had to filter and make sense of through their own vernacular spoken “dialect”. There was no uniform standard, and each region had their own tradition for the “correct” pronunciation. After Mandarin became the language of mass education from the 1920s onwards, this tradition of vernacular readings of literary Chinese gradually died out.

The tradition of chanting/cantillation in “dialect” was preserved on Taiwan, however, where there are still a few practitioners keeping the art of chanting verse in Taiwanese Southern Min alive.

Further reading:

  • More information on the poem (PDF file)
  • Article on the chanting tradition in Taiwanese Southern Min, which coincidentally uses the same poem as an example
  • Explanation of poetry chanting for Taiwanese by Ang Tek-lam (in Mandarin): https://youtu.be/U-wID6jbt9k

《前赤壁賦》• 蘇軾

《Zoin5 Ciah4biah4 Hu3》• Sou1 Sêg4


壬戌之秋

rim6sug4 ze1 ciu1

In the Autumn of the rim-sug year,

rim6sug4 - Year count in the traditional “stem-branch” system.


七月既望

cig4ghuêh8 gi3 bhuang6

after the full moon of the seventh month,


蘇子與客泛舟遊於赤壁之下

sou1ze2 e7 kêh4 huam3ziu1 iu5e1 ciah4biah4 ze1 hia6

Master Sou and his guests were floating in a boat at the foot of the Red Cliffs.


清風徐來

cêng1huang1 ce5 lai5

A fresh breeze came by,


水波不興

zui2bo1 bug4 hêng1

the water surface did not stir.


舉酒屬客

ge2ziu2 zog4kêh4

He raised a toast of wine to his guests,


誦《明月》之詩

song6 mêng5ghuêh8 ze1 si1

and recited from the poem Bright Moon


歌〈窈窕〉之章

go1 ieu2tieu2 ze1 ziang1

from the verse that goes, “graceful …”


少焉

siao3 iêng1

In a while,


月出於東山之上

ghuêh8 cug4e1 dang1suan1 ze1 siang6

the Moon came out over the mountains in the East,


徘徊於斗牛之間

bai5h(u)ai5 e1 dao2ghu5 ze1 gang1

and hung out between the Dipper and the Ox.

dao2ghu5 - Names of two constellations in the night sky


白露橫江

bêh8 lou7 huên5gang1

A white mist covered the river;


水光接天

zui2guang1 zih4 tiêng1

the water’s glint reached the sky.


縱一葦之所如

zong3 zêg8ui2 ze1 so2ru5

Let the reed boat go where it will go,


凌萬頃之茫然

lêng5 bhuêng7kuêng2 ze1 mang5riêng5

across tens of thousands of hectares of boundlessness.


浩浩乎如憑虛御風

hao1hao1 hu1 ru5 pêng5he1 ghe6hong1

Vast, like trusting the expanse and riding the wind,


而不知其所止

re5 bug4zai1 ki5 so2 zi2

without knowing where it will end.


飄飄乎如遺世獨立

pieu1pieu1 hu1 ru5 rui6si3 dog8lib8

Drifting, like leaving the world to be alone,


羽化而登仙

u2huê3 re5 dêng1siêng1

gaining wings and ascending to the heavens.


Posted on 2021-07-08 00:00:00 +0000


Original content copyright (c) 2019-2021 Brandon Seah, except where otherwise indicated