作业帮求汉语名著的英文读后感700字以上
来源：学生作业帮 编辑：拍题作业网作业帮 分类：英语作业 时间：2024/04/27 21:25:46
求汉语名著的英文读后感700字以上
如题
如题
红楼梦：
The Chinese Qing Dynasty novel, The Story of the Stone (also known as The Dream of the Red Chamber), is among the greatest novels ever written (see our review). With near 2500 pages in its English translation (published in five volumes) it is a monumental work. While the main story -- of Bao-yu (the Stone incarnate) fulfilling his destiny, within the framework of a family saga -- is fairly straightforward and easily followed the sheer number of characters, the many complex themes interwoven in the story, and the setting that is foreign both in culture and time can appear daunting and make the novel something of a challenge for readers. Dore J. Levy's study serves as a useful introduction and guide to many of the novel's themes and subjects, as well as explaining stylistic and formal elements of the text.
As Levy reminds us, in China "The Story of the Stone is a recognized scholarly field (called hongxue, or Dream of the Red Chamber studies), with its own history and specialist journals, like Dante or Shakespeare studies in the West." A vast amount of scholarly material on the novel exists, even in English. Levy's book "is intended as an introduction for first-time readers" (though she hopes aspects of it "suggest new ways for more advanced students and scholars to approach the text"). Written in an approachable manner it is certainly a useful starting point and companion volume to the actual novel.
Levy addresses several major areas in the five chapters of her book. First and foremost (and carried throughout the rest) is the notion of "ideal and actual, real and not-real." Truth vs. fiction is one of the most significant threads through the novel, beginning with the Stone presenting the very text and continuing through the many dreams, poems, and other unreal aspects of the book. Similarly, the tension between the ideal -- the world as it should be -- and the actual -- specifically the fallible and often weak (morally, intellectually, and spiritually) Jia's -- is constantly shown.
The family ideal is of particular significance, and the large Jia family offers sufficient examples of the many ways not to live up to those ideals. Bao-yu is, of course, the future of the family, and he does prove its saviour, ultimately living up to the ideal. Along the way, however, he also challenges many of the traditions, neither remaining in his proper place (preferring to be in the company of the girls for example), nor shouldering responsibilities as he should (whether regarding his studies (finally taken up seriously only at the last possible moment) or marrying (he has to be tricked into marriage and fails, initially, as a husband)). He and Dai-yu, not meant to be of this world, are a bridge between ideal and actual; significantly they do not remain in the world of the actual.
In her chapter on "Preexisting Conditions" Levy usefully analyzes the medical aspects of the book. Given Dai-yu's terminal illness and various other instances of chills, blood-coughing, disease, and death it offers another useful perspective on the book, especially for an audience generally not familiar with Chinese medicine. Bao-yu is even diagnosed as suffering from Attention Deficit Disorder, a fairly convincing analysis that actually does provide some insight into aspects of his behaviour.
In the last two section Levy pays particular attention to the poetry in the novel. Many of the characters write poetry, and Cao Xueqin uses it effectively as part of the larger tale. It serves as another layer of the multi-layered novel, and Levy explains its role and application well.
Levy manages to bring across much of the novel in her brief, clearly written book. Though she concentrates only on a few larger themes she manages to cover a great deal of territory. The Story of the Stone can appear daunting, but Levy's broad introduction explains the most significant themes and currents running through the book and mentions many of the others. It is a useful overview and companion piece, and while The Story of the Stone can be enjoyed on its own Levy's insights can certainly help increase a reader's enjoyment and understanding. Her fascination with the novel (one that can be studied for a lifetime) certainly comes across.
红楼梦：
This is the second volume of Cao Xueqin’s story of the fortunes of the Jia dynasty in early eighteenth century China. The story focuses particularly on the bond between Bao-yu, the eldest son of the house, and his orphaned cousin Dai-yu.
Though the events of the book take place over a period of less than a year, the narrative goes into great depth about the lives of the family and their servants. Cao describes festivals, rituals and customs in a lot of detail so that anyone not familiar with the history of Manchu China gains some insight into it while reading the book. There are many very sumptuous descriptions here and we get a real sense of the decadence of this wealthy household.
I don’t think you need to have read the first volume of the story to be able to follow what’s going on, but there are a lot of characters in the novel, so you might want to familiarise yourself with the list of characters and genealogical tables before you read it.
David Hawkes’ translation is very readable and entertaining, but I think it’s quite anglicised and doesn’t really give a flavour of Chinese expression.
Overall, I would recommend this book, especially if you’re interested in the Chinese way of life.
红楼梦：
I spend a lot of time wandering through bookstores. One particular book has caught my eye over the years, and the other day I bought it - Volume 1 of Cao Xueqin's eighteenth century epic, "The Story of the Stone: The Golden Days". As a developing eighteenth century scholar, I was doubly attracted to it. "The Golden Days" absolutely blew me away - used as I am to eighteenth century novels (British, French, American), this is wholly unlike anything I've read from the era. It bears structural similarities to the Laurence Sterne's "Tristram Shandy" and "Sentimental Journey," but aside from that bears more in common with ancient Greek novels like Longus's "Daphnis and Chloe" or Heliodorus's "Eithopian Romance," as well as the mysticism of the ancient Egyptian "Story of the Shipwrecked Sailor." And yet, Cao's attention to actual life experiences, and the detail he conveys about tradition and ceremony, along with frank dealings with human relationships and sexuality makes "The Golden Days" much more than any quick summary of style or content can relate.
"The Golden Days" begins in amusing, but sympathetic fashion: the goddess Nü-wa is repairing the sky with 36,501 stones. When she finishes, one remains, which is cast off. Having been touched by a goddess, this stone has magical properties, able to move, change size, and even talk. One day, a Buddhist monk and a Taoist come upon the stone, and promise to let the stone have an adventure - to become human. As the stone waits by a pond, it falls desperately in love with a Crimson Pearl Flower, which is also selected for incarnation by the Fairy Disenchantment. The stone and the flower are incarnated as the novel begins in earnest, as a young minor nobleman named Jia Bao-yu, and a commoner related to the family, a girl named Lin Dai-yu - both unaware of their heavenly origins. "The Golden Days" centers around the daily events and occurrences in the lives of these two teenagers, as they come to grips, as we all must, with human life.
The Rong and Ning branches of the Jia family, on opposite sides of Two Dukes Street, are the centerpieces of the novel's action. Like the "big house" fiction of the English eighteenth century, these ancestral manses provide a locus of activity, as the nobles, their extended families, friends, and servants mingle and interact constantly. Cao marks himself as a remarkable author by the way he handles a massive cast of characters, letting us into the private lives and concerns of all ranks of society, as well as the forms of etiquette that determine their relationships. Another terrific facet of the novel's construction is the almost stream of consciousness style Cao employs - as characters pass in and out of the immediate action of the novel, the narrative seems to choose the person it's most interested in and follow them for pages at a time, before seamlessly passing to the next character. It's really quite amazing, how, in this way, we come to understand the motivations, fears, and hopes of so many individuals. Time, distance, culture, Cao levels distinctions, making historical China accessible to even 21st century readers - he reduces people to their human concerns.
Cao Xueqin's novel is also remarkable for what I can only call it's pro(to)-feminist tone. While we are reminded by certain characters that male lineage is of major importance to the structure of the society, the narrative consistently shows the power, ability, and influence of women. At the novel's beginning, a Taoist named Vanitas finds the stone, and is asked to transcribe its story, but complains initially that it is about a "number of females". The stone obviously insists that the story be written out. Later, Bao-yu, the major male character, says he is more comfortable around women - that they are like water, while men are like mud, castoffs, unclean. One of the main characters of this volume is Wang Xi-feng, a young woman in her early twenties, who for an extended period, manages the affairs of both the Ning and Rong mansions. Cao's respect and admiration for the strong women in Bao-yu's life: Xi-feng, Dai-yu, and two particular servants, Aroma and Caltrop, is quite obvious and important to the novel.
If you are like me, and know tragically little about Chinese literature and culture, Cao takes care of that too - there is a heavy emphasis throughout the novel on the cultural productions of China. The book integrates a wide range of poetry, drama, fiction, folk wisdom, and mythology as a central part of Bao-yu and Dai-yu's upbringing. One can sense Cao's insistence in the novel that education and cultural production is of vital importance, particularly to children. While the Fairy Disenchantment seems to be the guiding spirit of the novel, hinting at the diappointments inevitable in the course of life, this is a novel about youth, and hope for the future, even in the midst of concern about how long prosperity can last. Taken altogether, "The Golden Days" cannot be recommended enough. David Hawkes's translation is first rate, and his introduction, pronunciation notes, and appendices are thorough and very helpful.
红楼梦：
Well, in my opinion anyway. David Hawkes has done an amazing job translating this brilliant 18th-century novel into colloquial modern English. I have read all the translations-- this is my favorite novel, and this is by far the best version for an English speaker who just wants a good book. I can imagine that a Chinese reader could pick holes in this translation, as I could nitpick at a translation of Shakespeare-- the wealth of the original is impossible to transfer whole into another language and culture. If you want a word-for-word translation so you can use this as a study guide while you read the Chinese, maybe the wooden Beijing Languages version could help you! But I have a hard time imagining any new translation being more vivid and fun to read than this one. Yes, it is littered with sometimes annoying Britishisms. That is the price of a colloquial translation! It's true that Hawkes does not explain all the references-- that would be another book in itself. And I am sure he made mistakes-- I help a French translator occasionally and even though he is very well-versed in English, it is so easy for him to miss something that only a cultured native speaker could pick up. But this translation is ALIVE. Until that perfect translation comes along one day, Hawkes's is still better than all the others. Be grateful to him!
三国演义：
First off, you have to read the full translation of this book. I read the 1976 abridged version of Three Kingdoms translated by Moss Roberts first and thought it was pretty good, but felt that the story wasn't developed enough and lacked cohesion. Then a few years ago I finally found and purchased the full unabridged version published by the University of California Press and also translated by Dr. Roberts. This is the full-blown epic from start to finish with all the details and many of the translation errors of the previous editions eliminated. The prose was also improved and flows eloquently throughout the book's entire 3000+ pages. Three Kingdoms is the tale (part historical, part legend and myth) of the fall of the Later Han Dynasty of China. It chronicles the lives of those feudal lords and their retainers who tried to either replace the empire or restore it. While the novel actually follows literally hundreds of characters, the focus is mainly on the 3 families who would eventually carve out the 3 kingdoms from the remnants of the Han. The Liu family in the Shu kingdom led by Liu Bei, The Cao family in Wei led by Cao Cao, and the Sun family in Wu eventually led by Sun Quan. The book deals with the plots, personal and army battles, intrigues, and struggles of these families to achieve dominance for almost 100 yrs. This book also gives you a sense of the way the Chinese view their history: cyclical rather than linear (as in the West). The first and last lines of the book sum this view up best: "The empire long united must divide..." and "The empire long divided must unite..." If you are at least a little interested in Chinese history (ancient or modern) and culture this book is a must read.
三国演义：
"Romance of the Three Kingdoms" is possibly the most famous and important novel in classic Chinese literature. Not only is it the earliest of the "Four Great Books" (as evidenced by its more archaic language), but it created a complete cultural phenomenon whose impact is still fresh today -- just ask all the young people today who, without having read a word of the book, still know the characters from the strategy and fighting video games released by the company Koei. And how many literary works can claim to have had a direct impact on history as this book, which was used as a strategy text by the great Manchurian leader Nurhachi and his son Hongtaiji?
I'd read the original archaic text when I was about eight years old, so obviously my views will be heavily slanted by my familiarity with this text. On approaching this translation, what I find is a well done, respectful and informative translation that doesn't quite nail the tone of the original text, but will be a good read for modern readers who don't read Chinese.
And to be honest, Chinese is extremely hard to translate into English. Just the fact that subjects, articles and pronouns are often omitted from a sentence is enough to cause nightmares for a Chinese-English translator. And even by Chinese standards, The Three Kingdoms is a work whose linguistic economy is staggering. In one page, this book can convey the deaths of half a dozen characters, three to four battles, multiple schemes, and include four or five "tribute" poems, to boot. Such is the style of this work, and it could not have been easy for translator Moss Roberts to adapt this style into English. And he has done the job remarkably, for though I don't think he was able to convey the flavour and rhythm of the original language (the question is, also, whether that would have been possible), his translation makes a good read, and strives to be faithful to the original text, down to the chapter divisions and the inclusion of the "tribute" poems which frequent the book. This was an essential piece in the style of the book and I was joyed to see the device retained.
There are instances scattered throughout where I felt the tone of the language may have been misinterpreted, or diluted by the language barrier. Obviously, I'm not a Chinese professor (as Prof. Roberts is), but as a native speaker, I felt his translations sometimes didn't quite hit the mark. For example, in the original text, one poem on the character Cao Cao distinctly used a word which meant "deception" or "guile", but Prof. Roberts adapted it to "craft", which dilutes the disapproving tone of the original. When Yuan Shao refused aid to Liu Bei on account of his son's illness, his advice to the messenger was "if he is in trouble, he may seek refuge with me", which suggests patronage, not "find refuge north of the river", which suggests a tactical manoeuvre related to geography. These are but two examples and you can certainly argue that the meaning of the original text is up for grabs, but as a Chinese native speaker and reader, one who has grown up with this text and re-read the book hundreds of times, I still find the translation a little off. There is also no attempt at creating period flavour in the language -- the translation is modern, not aiming to add archaic English flavour to try to reflect the age of the original Chinese text. This may be a good point, however, since the use of archaic English added to the language barrier might have resulted in a book that's very difficult to read. I think Prof. Roberts sacrificed flavour for clarity, a fair tradeoff to the benefit of the translation.
Again, the question is whether an English translation (or any other translation) could ever be accurate in this way to the original. Personally, I do think many of the discrepancies in meaning could have been avoided, or ameliorated. However, as aforementioned, for a reader who's never read the original, this issue won't affect his/her enjoyment of the text. Just the fact that there is a translation of this extremely important work of Chinese literature is a cause for celebration, and for those people new to this realm, this set of books is a great discovery.
The Chinese Qing Dynasty novel, The Story of the Stone (also known as The Dream of the Red Chamber), is among the greatest novels ever written (see our review). With near 2500 pages in its English translation (published in five volumes) it is a monumental work. While the main story -- of Bao-yu (the Stone incarnate) fulfilling his destiny, within the framework of a family saga -- is fairly straightforward and easily followed the sheer number of characters, the many complex themes interwoven in the story, and the setting that is foreign both in culture and time can appear daunting and make the novel something of a challenge for readers. Dore J. Levy's study serves as a useful introduction and guide to many of the novel's themes and subjects, as well as explaining stylistic and formal elements of the text.
As Levy reminds us, in China "The Story of the Stone is a recognized scholarly field (called hongxue, or Dream of the Red Chamber studies), with its own history and specialist journals, like Dante or Shakespeare studies in the West." A vast amount of scholarly material on the novel exists, even in English. Levy's book "is intended as an introduction for first-time readers" (though she hopes aspects of it "suggest new ways for more advanced students and scholars to approach the text"). Written in an approachable manner it is certainly a useful starting point and companion volume to the actual novel.
Levy addresses several major areas in the five chapters of her book. First and foremost (and carried throughout the rest) is the notion of "ideal and actual, real and not-real." Truth vs. fiction is one of the most significant threads through the novel, beginning with the Stone presenting the very text and continuing through the many dreams, poems, and other unreal aspects of the book. Similarly, the tension between the ideal -- the world as it should be -- and the actual -- specifically the fallible and often weak (morally, intellectually, and spiritually) Jia's -- is constantly shown.
The family ideal is of particular significance, and the large Jia family offers sufficient examples of the many ways not to live up to those ideals. Bao-yu is, of course, the future of the family, and he does prove its saviour, ultimately living up to the ideal. Along the way, however, he also challenges many of the traditions, neither remaining in his proper place (preferring to be in the company of the girls for example), nor shouldering responsibilities as he should (whether regarding his studies (finally taken up seriously only at the last possible moment) or marrying (he has to be tricked into marriage and fails, initially, as a husband)). He and Dai-yu, not meant to be of this world, are a bridge between ideal and actual; significantly they do not remain in the world of the actual.
In her chapter on "Preexisting Conditions" Levy usefully analyzes the medical aspects of the book. Given Dai-yu's terminal illness and various other instances of chills, blood-coughing, disease, and death it offers another useful perspective on the book, especially for an audience generally not familiar with Chinese medicine. Bao-yu is even diagnosed as suffering from Attention Deficit Disorder, a fairly convincing analysis that actually does provide some insight into aspects of his behaviour.
In the last two section Levy pays particular attention to the poetry in the novel. Many of the characters write poetry, and Cao Xueqin uses it effectively as part of the larger tale. It serves as another layer of the multi-layered novel, and Levy explains its role and application well.
Levy manages to bring across much of the novel in her brief, clearly written book. Though she concentrates only on a few larger themes she manages to cover a great deal of territory. The Story of the Stone can appear daunting, but Levy's broad introduction explains the most significant themes and currents running through the book and mentions many of the others. It is a useful overview and companion piece, and while The Story of the Stone can be enjoyed on its own Levy's insights can certainly help increase a reader's enjoyment and understanding. Her fascination with the novel (one that can be studied for a lifetime) certainly comes across.
红楼梦：
This is the second volume of Cao Xueqin’s story of the fortunes of the Jia dynasty in early eighteenth century China. The story focuses particularly on the bond between Bao-yu, the eldest son of the house, and his orphaned cousin Dai-yu.
Though the events of the book take place over a period of less than a year, the narrative goes into great depth about the lives of the family and their servants. Cao describes festivals, rituals and customs in a lot of detail so that anyone not familiar with the history of Manchu China gains some insight into it while reading the book. There are many very sumptuous descriptions here and we get a real sense of the decadence of this wealthy household.
I don’t think you need to have read the first volume of the story to be able to follow what’s going on, but there are a lot of characters in the novel, so you might want to familiarise yourself with the list of characters and genealogical tables before you read it.
David Hawkes’ translation is very readable and entertaining, but I think it’s quite anglicised and doesn’t really give a flavour of Chinese expression.
Overall, I would recommend this book, especially if you’re interested in the Chinese way of life.
红楼梦：
I spend a lot of time wandering through bookstores. One particular book has caught my eye over the years, and the other day I bought it - Volume 1 of Cao Xueqin's eighteenth century epic, "The Story of the Stone: The Golden Days". As a developing eighteenth century scholar, I was doubly attracted to it. "The Golden Days" absolutely blew me away - used as I am to eighteenth century novels (British, French, American), this is wholly unlike anything I've read from the era. It bears structural similarities to the Laurence Sterne's "Tristram Shandy" and "Sentimental Journey," but aside from that bears more in common with ancient Greek novels like Longus's "Daphnis and Chloe" or Heliodorus's "Eithopian Romance," as well as the mysticism of the ancient Egyptian "Story of the Shipwrecked Sailor." And yet, Cao's attention to actual life experiences, and the detail he conveys about tradition and ceremony, along with frank dealings with human relationships and sexuality makes "The Golden Days" much more than any quick summary of style or content can relate.
"The Golden Days" begins in amusing, but sympathetic fashion: the goddess Nü-wa is repairing the sky with 36,501 stones. When she finishes, one remains, which is cast off. Having been touched by a goddess, this stone has magical properties, able to move, change size, and even talk. One day, a Buddhist monk and a Taoist come upon the stone, and promise to let the stone have an adventure - to become human. As the stone waits by a pond, it falls desperately in love with a Crimson Pearl Flower, which is also selected for incarnation by the Fairy Disenchantment. The stone and the flower are incarnated as the novel begins in earnest, as a young minor nobleman named Jia Bao-yu, and a commoner related to the family, a girl named Lin Dai-yu - both unaware of their heavenly origins. "The Golden Days" centers around the daily events and occurrences in the lives of these two teenagers, as they come to grips, as we all must, with human life.
The Rong and Ning branches of the Jia family, on opposite sides of Two Dukes Street, are the centerpieces of the novel's action. Like the "big house" fiction of the English eighteenth century, these ancestral manses provide a locus of activity, as the nobles, their extended families, friends, and servants mingle and interact constantly. Cao marks himself as a remarkable author by the way he handles a massive cast of characters, letting us into the private lives and concerns of all ranks of society, as well as the forms of etiquette that determine their relationships. Another terrific facet of the novel's construction is the almost stream of consciousness style Cao employs - as characters pass in and out of the immediate action of the novel, the narrative seems to choose the person it's most interested in and follow them for pages at a time, before seamlessly passing to the next character. It's really quite amazing, how, in this way, we come to understand the motivations, fears, and hopes of so many individuals. Time, distance, culture, Cao levels distinctions, making historical China accessible to even 21st century readers - he reduces people to their human concerns.
Cao Xueqin's novel is also remarkable for what I can only call it's pro(to)-feminist tone. While we are reminded by certain characters that male lineage is of major importance to the structure of the society, the narrative consistently shows the power, ability, and influence of women. At the novel's beginning, a Taoist named Vanitas finds the stone, and is asked to transcribe its story, but complains initially that it is about a "number of females". The stone obviously insists that the story be written out. Later, Bao-yu, the major male character, says he is more comfortable around women - that they are like water, while men are like mud, castoffs, unclean. One of the main characters of this volume is Wang Xi-feng, a young woman in her early twenties, who for an extended period, manages the affairs of both the Ning and Rong mansions. Cao's respect and admiration for the strong women in Bao-yu's life: Xi-feng, Dai-yu, and two particular servants, Aroma and Caltrop, is quite obvious and important to the novel.
If you are like me, and know tragically little about Chinese literature and culture, Cao takes care of that too - there is a heavy emphasis throughout the novel on the cultural productions of China. The book integrates a wide range of poetry, drama, fiction, folk wisdom, and mythology as a central part of Bao-yu and Dai-yu's upbringing. One can sense Cao's insistence in the novel that education and cultural production is of vital importance, particularly to children. While the Fairy Disenchantment seems to be the guiding spirit of the novel, hinting at the diappointments inevitable in the course of life, this is a novel about youth, and hope for the future, even in the midst of concern about how long prosperity can last. Taken altogether, "The Golden Days" cannot be recommended enough. David Hawkes's translation is first rate, and his introduction, pronunciation notes, and appendices are thorough and very helpful.
红楼梦：
Well, in my opinion anyway. David Hawkes has done an amazing job translating this brilliant 18th-century novel into colloquial modern English. I have read all the translations-- this is my favorite novel, and this is by far the best version for an English speaker who just wants a good book. I can imagine that a Chinese reader could pick holes in this translation, as I could nitpick at a translation of Shakespeare-- the wealth of the original is impossible to transfer whole into another language and culture. If you want a word-for-word translation so you can use this as a study guide while you read the Chinese, maybe the wooden Beijing Languages version could help you! But I have a hard time imagining any new translation being more vivid and fun to read than this one. Yes, it is littered with sometimes annoying Britishisms. That is the price of a colloquial translation! It's true that Hawkes does not explain all the references-- that would be another book in itself. And I am sure he made mistakes-- I help a French translator occasionally and even though he is very well-versed in English, it is so easy for him to miss something that only a cultured native speaker could pick up. But this translation is ALIVE. Until that perfect translation comes along one day, Hawkes's is still better than all the others. Be grateful to him!
三国演义：
First off, you have to read the full translation of this book. I read the 1976 abridged version of Three Kingdoms translated by Moss Roberts first and thought it was pretty good, but felt that the story wasn't developed enough and lacked cohesion. Then a few years ago I finally found and purchased the full unabridged version published by the University of California Press and also translated by Dr. Roberts. This is the full-blown epic from start to finish with all the details and many of the translation errors of the previous editions eliminated. The prose was also improved and flows eloquently throughout the book's entire 3000+ pages. Three Kingdoms is the tale (part historical, part legend and myth) of the fall of the Later Han Dynasty of China. It chronicles the lives of those feudal lords and their retainers who tried to either replace the empire or restore it. While the novel actually follows literally hundreds of characters, the focus is mainly on the 3 families who would eventually carve out the 3 kingdoms from the remnants of the Han. The Liu family in the Shu kingdom led by Liu Bei, The Cao family in Wei led by Cao Cao, and the Sun family in Wu eventually led by Sun Quan. The book deals with the plots, personal and army battles, intrigues, and struggles of these families to achieve dominance for almost 100 yrs. This book also gives you a sense of the way the Chinese view their history: cyclical rather than linear (as in the West). The first and last lines of the book sum this view up best: "The empire long united must divide..." and "The empire long divided must unite..." If you are at least a little interested in Chinese history (ancient or modern) and culture this book is a must read.
三国演义：
"Romance of the Three Kingdoms" is possibly the most famous and important novel in classic Chinese literature. Not only is it the earliest of the "Four Great Books" (as evidenced by its more archaic language), but it created a complete cultural phenomenon whose impact is still fresh today -- just ask all the young people today who, without having read a word of the book, still know the characters from the strategy and fighting video games released by the company Koei. And how many literary works can claim to have had a direct impact on history as this book, which was used as a strategy text by the great Manchurian leader Nurhachi and his son Hongtaiji?
I'd read the original archaic text when I was about eight years old, so obviously my views will be heavily slanted by my familiarity with this text. On approaching this translation, what I find is a well done, respectful and informative translation that doesn't quite nail the tone of the original text, but will be a good read for modern readers who don't read Chinese.
And to be honest, Chinese is extremely hard to translate into English. Just the fact that subjects, articles and pronouns are often omitted from a sentence is enough to cause nightmares for a Chinese-English translator. And even by Chinese standards, The Three Kingdoms is a work whose linguistic economy is staggering. In one page, this book can convey the deaths of half a dozen characters, three to four battles, multiple schemes, and include four or five "tribute" poems, to boot. Such is the style of this work, and it could not have been easy for translator Moss Roberts to adapt this style into English. And he has done the job remarkably, for though I don't think he was able to convey the flavour and rhythm of the original language (the question is, also, whether that would have been possible), his translation makes a good read, and strives to be faithful to the original text, down to the chapter divisions and the inclusion of the "tribute" poems which frequent the book. This was an essential piece in the style of the book and I was joyed to see the device retained.
There are instances scattered throughout where I felt the tone of the language may have been misinterpreted, or diluted by the language barrier. Obviously, I'm not a Chinese professor (as Prof. Roberts is), but as a native speaker, I felt his translations sometimes didn't quite hit the mark. For example, in the original text, one poem on the character Cao Cao distinctly used a word which meant "deception" or "guile", but Prof. Roberts adapted it to "craft", which dilutes the disapproving tone of the original. When Yuan Shao refused aid to Liu Bei on account of his son's illness, his advice to the messenger was "if he is in trouble, he may seek refuge with me", which suggests patronage, not "find refuge north of the river", which suggests a tactical manoeuvre related to geography. These are but two examples and you can certainly argue that the meaning of the original text is up for grabs, but as a Chinese native speaker and reader, one who has grown up with this text and re-read the book hundreds of times, I still find the translation a little off. There is also no attempt at creating period flavour in the language -- the translation is modern, not aiming to add archaic English flavour to try to reflect the age of the original Chinese text. This may be a good point, however, since the use of archaic English added to the language barrier might have resulted in a book that's very difficult to read. I think Prof. Roberts sacrificed flavour for clarity, a fair tradeoff to the benefit of the translation.
Again, the question is whether an English translation (or any other translation) could ever be accurate in this way to the original. Personally, I do think many of the discrepancies in meaning could have been avoided, or ameliorated. However, as aforementioned, for a reader who's never read the original, this issue won't affect his/her enjoyment of the text. Just the fact that there is a translation of this extremely important work of Chinese literature is a cause for celebration, and for those people new to this realm, this set of books is a great discovery.