“Jia Baoyu! You are the real murderer!”

A whodunit in the Grand View Garden

Adapting a classic work is a risky undertaking.

This warning from an online commentator becomes all the more significant when the classic involved is one of China’s four ancient masterpieces. Or when the adaptation is a detective novel. Or if the author is Japanese.

Ashibe Taku’s Murder in the Red Mansions (芦辺拓, 《紅楼夢の殺人》, Koromu no satsujin), an award-winning novel published in 2004, is all of these. Ashibe’s book, which was released on the mainland this January in a translation by Zhao Jianxun, retells Cao Xueqin’s immortal Dream of the Red Mansions as a murder mystery.

Unlike various parodies of Dream of the Red Mansions, Ashibe Taku’s mystery is quite respectful of the original novel. However, as if anticipating opposition from the traditionalists, the Chinese edition includes a “reader’s guide” at the front that emphasizes this point:

No wonder so many Japanese readers couldn’t help opening Dream of the Red Mansions after reading Murder in the Red Mansions; this detective novel awakened their intense curiosity toward a classic Chinese masterpiece.

…

For Japanese readers, a detective novel drawn from the plot of the classic Chinese novel Dream of the Red Mansions can stir an interest in ancient Chinese culture at the same time it satisfies their interest in the mystery plot. And to some degree, the excitement they get out of this book exceeds that of Red Mansions itself, so its attraction is not only its connection to that novel.

For the Chinese reader, then, if you are a fan of detective novels, then read it as a unique detective novel. If you are a Red Mansions fan, then read it as a whimsical retelling of the Red Mansions story. If you are a fan of neither detective fiction nor the Red Mansions, but simply an ordinary reader, then don’t worry: take a look at how the story proceeds in the “story first” novels of Ashibe Taku.

The story generally follows events in the original novel, and all the members of the Jia family retain the personalities that Cao gave them. In fact, the author provides enough background that even a reader unfamiliar with the original can still get a sense of the complex relationships among the huge cast of characters.

As Murder begins, Jia Baoyu and the young women of the Jia family are invited by Yuanchun, an imperial consort who has made a rare trip home, to take up residence in the expansive Grand View Garden, which was constructed especially for her visit. Ostensibly this is so that the garden doesn’t go to waste, but the local Criminal Bureau is of the opinion that Yuanchun suspects that foul play will occur in the future, and she wants to keep her young relatives safe.

The Bureau dispatches Lai Shangrong to keep an eye on things in the garden. Shangrong, a corrupt local official in the original novel, is an accomplished detective in this retelling, and such a strong believer in the rule of law that his colleague Jia Yucun needs to remind him of the deference he must show toward influential families. For his part, Baoyu is a crime enthusiast: instead of concentrating on his studies, he spends his time reading the tales of Lord Bao and running the Crab-Flower “Mystery” Club with his cousins.

The book starts slow, but once Yingchun is discovered strangled and floating in a lake, the bodies start accumulating and the pace of the novel picks up. In the course of his investigations, Shangrong begins to suspect that Baoyu is toying with him, and it all plays out in a satisfying conclusion that echoes the sentiments of the original.

Blood in the mansions

Naturally, Ashibe’s claims of reverence failed to impress the most stalwart defenders of traditional culture. Most of their arguments we’ve all heard before, but one piece posted on Sichuan Online just begged to be translated:

Adapting a classic work is a risky undertaking. An author not up to the task ends up despoiling it, and even a famous author, if careless, could still end up botching the job. If a foreigner who does not understand native culture adapts it, then its hard to say just how great the risk may be.

The Japanese writer Ashibe Taku has turned Dream of the Red Mansions into a violent, blood-soaked “murder novel.” The mainland Chinese translation of that novel has sparked an intense controversy in recent days because Jia Baoyu has been transformed into an amateur detective, and the women of the Grand View Garden fall victim to a series of murders. Those opposed to the novel say that the mockery of a classic goes too far, but its supporters acclaim the foreign writer for bringing the original work “to new heights” (reports the Chongqing Evening News).

One of China’s Four Great Books has, under the pen of a Japanese author, became a “murder novel.” Merely from the title of Ashibe Taku’s Murder in the Red Mansions, one can tell that this Red Mansions story is no longer in the same arena as Cao Xueqin’s, but that it has become something in which the characters in the Red Mansions are imbued with a Japanese “military soul.” To apply the word “ratiocination” to such a novel is the height of hilarity, because that supposes a strict logic in the telling of the story. But in this adaptation, Jia Baoyu is an amateur detective, and Wang Xifeng, Lin Daiyu, and Shi Xiangyun all get killed. This goes against everything Dream of the Red Mansions stands for. There’s nothing at all rational about this—it blasphemes one of China’s literary masterpieces. For such a work to be published in mainland China, if not a national shame, is at least a portrait of an ignorant publisher who is unaware of national literature.

A finely-crafted murder mystery

Ashibe Taku’s “murder novel” purports to “seek justice” for Wang Xifeng, Lin Daiyu, and Shi Xiangyun, but as a matter of fact, it is actually playing with Chinese literature in order to “massacre” one of China’s literary masterpieces, if not Chinese culture itself. As a representative of the highest standard of Chinese literary and artistic expression, Dream of the Red Mansions is the pinnacle of art, one that posterity has found hard to match. Adapting Dream of the Red Mansions into another art form is of course permissible. And writing a sequel is a form of exploration. All of those creative works are founded on one precept: respect for the original artist’s basic concept, which means not tearing apart the structure of the original work or parodying its main characters. Murder in the Red Mansions upends the substance of Cao Xueqin’s novel, turning a novel in which a love story brings to light major historical material into a blood-soaked murder case. The two are so different that their artistic merits can hardly be on the same level. But such a “murder novel” does not stop at slaughtering merely the novel Dream of the Red Mansions; it is clearly a distortion and slaughter of China’s ancient culture. If similar acts are not stopped, our literary masterpieces are at risk of further mockery.

The individual copyrights of the authors of China’s literary masterpieces have long expired, but those rights have reverted to the state. An irresponsible mockery of Dream of the Red Mansions like the one undertaken by Ashibe Taku violates China’s copyright. This means that the General Administration of Press and Publication of China can use the law to stop the publication and circulation of Murder in the Red Mansions. And not only in China—it can’t be published in Japan, either, because this novel harms China’s national character in addition to violating the copyright of a literary work. Ashibe Taku may claim that “this is a book that pays respect to ancient Chinese literature from far-off Japan as well as making new explorations in detective fiction,” but it is undeniable that the book blasphemes China’s Dream of the Red Mansions.

Oddly, there are individuals on the mainland who have praised Ashibe. Those people enjoyed the “thrilling scenes.” Conversely, it fell to readers in Hong Kong and Taiwan to express their dissatisfaction: “This sequel feels crude all over” (reader Gfinger in Hong Kong). “If you are in love with the original and value textual research, then come nowhere near this novel” (Lin Siyan in Taiwan). “The Japanese are destroying the outstanding culture of the Chinese people. The Chinese cannot permit them to do this. Suppose for a moment that we took Japan’s traditional literary works and messed with them—how would they feel?”

A “murder novel” should not trample on a Chinese masterpiece, nor should it slaughter Chinese culture. I hope that the government can give this the attention it deserves.

Die Huayu’s warning notwithstanding, the dangers involved in adapting Dream of the Red Mansions have been braved by countless authors since the novel’s publication. We’ve collected a number of titles, both ancient and modern, in the post Dreams of mansions, stories of stones.