Auch kleine Dinge

I am writing down the following thoughts for my young friends.  Growing up in the fast-paced digital world, new delights come along every second.  It is hard for young minds to settle down, look around and appreciate all the wonders around them.

When I was very little, I heard adults talking about how rice, if eaten slowly and allowed to linger in one’s mouth, would taste very sweet.  Mom, always wanting us to chew our food carefully, encouraged me to try.  I wasn’t too disappointed: The rice was sweeter.

Jin Shengtan (金勝歎), a celebrated 17th-century Chinese writer, was believed to have said that, when eating together, dried tofu and peanuts would taste like ham.  How could a child who loved to eat not to try this trick?  Well, I wasn’t too impressed by the result.  Nevertheless, I learned that there were always ways to make everything in life more interesting.

One of my favorite German Lieder is “Auch kleine Dinge” by Hugo Wolf, the first piece in his Italienisches Liederbuch (Italian Songbook).  The German text, adapted by Paul Heyse, reads:

Auch kleine Dinge können uns entzücken,
Auch kleine Dinge können teuer sein.
Bedenkt, wie gern wir uns mit Perlen schmücken;
Sie werden schwer bezahlt und sind nur klein.
Bedenkt, wie klein ist die Olivenfrucht,
Und wird um ihre Güte doch gesucht.
Denkt an die Rose nur, wie klein sie ist,
Und duftet doch so lieblich, wie ihr wißt.

(Even little things can amuse us. They can be precious. Just think how gladly we put on pearls. They are small but costly. Think how small olive fruits are. But their good taste made them sought after. Think about roses. Think how small they are. But they smell so lovely, as you know.)

The folk Italian version is even more direct:

Le cose piccoline son pur belle!
Le cose piccoline son pur care!
Ponete mente come son le perle:
son piccoline, e si fanno pagare.
Ponete mente come l’è l’uliva:
l’è piccolina, e di buon frutto mena.
Ponete mente come l’è la rosa:
l’è piccolina, e l’è tanto odorosa.

(Some things are tiny yet beautiful. Some things are tiny yet dear. Think how pearls are: they are small, but they make us pay [dearly]. Think how it is with olive: It is tiny, and it brings wonderful fruits. Think how it is with rose: it is tiny, and it is very fragrant.)

During my first winter in New York, while establishing connection, I spent most of my hours playing through various standard repertoire. One quiet afternoon, I picked up the Italienisches Liederbuch. Unlike many other works of Wolf, intricate and capricious, “Auch kleine Dinge” was uncomplicated and graceful. Paperwhites that I picked up at the flower district had just bloomed. Their beautiful scent, which I always associated with childhood Chinese New Year celebrations, drifted around the room. The image of the jewel-like flowers, the fragrance and the flowing high notes in the introduction made a permanent imprint in my memory.

Wonders are everywhere in life. They can be as plain as a few grains of white rice; as common as peanuts and tofu; as small as pearls and flowers or as insignificant as olives. Often, I am amused by the process of finding joys in otherwise mundane things. And, I love the small fireworks that exploded within me when small wonders touch my life.

Auch kleine Dinge,” Hugo Wolf:
Performed by Diana Damrau, soprano and Helmut Deutsch, piano

Gourds

I love going to farm stands or greenmarkets in the fall, looking for decorative gourds. Small or large, smooth or lumpy, symmetrical or twisted, colorful or pale, collectively, they showcase the infinite possibilities that nature offers us. Individually, they perk one’s imagination in various ways.

The only gourds that I knew before coming to the States were calabash gourds. (Not to be confused with the fruits of calabash trees.) Imagine butternut squashes in the color of Granny Smith apples. Some of them would have larger and rounder bottoms. Some of them would have two evenly shaped globes. The young fruits are edible. When allowed to mature and dried, their skin turn golden.  The hardened shells make them perfect carriers for water or liquor, and hence the name of “bottle gourds.”

The pronunciation of their Chinese name “hulu” (葫蘆) is similar to luck (福) and prosperity (祿).  “Hu” also sounds similar to “protection” (護).  Therefore, it is believed to have protective power.  Bottle-gourd-shape charms are common gifts for newborns and children.

Taoism, which centers around the existence of the universe and the transmutation of space and time, holds bottle gourds in high regards.  The two globes of the gourd, representing the heaven and the earth (or, in some interpretation, the sun and the moon), linked by the hollow neck, intermingling with each other—resembling the creation of the universe.  In paintings, Taoist immortals often carry a gourd around their waists.

In addition to being carriers of elixirs, bottle gourds are believed to contain healing energy.  The idiom 懸壺濟世, meaning “hanging the bottle to bring relief to the world,” is used to describe the charitable actions of medical doctors and appears in acclamatory messages.

Being a symbol of blessing and benevolence, bottle gourds play an important role in Chinese feng shui.  Supposedly, hanging them at the right location can bring harmony and good fortune to the household.  Nevertheless, my parents probably never thought much about feng shui when they planted gourds near our front windows.  They were easy going and fast growing.  Their large leaves, covering the pergola, created a green canopy to the front room.  The white flowers were simple but pleasant.  Gradually, the blossoms transformed into little jade pendant like fruits.  We watched these little toys balloon into sizeable squashes.  Since we didn’t grow them for food, they would be left to dry on the viens.  For years, mom kept the better shaped ones around the house.

I don’t know any symbolism attached to the Western decorative gourds.  But, to me, they herald the arrival of a harvest season.