Zhang Dai (張岱; pinyin: Zhāng Dài, courtesy name: Zongzi (宗子), pseudonym: Tao'an (陶庵)) (1597–1684)[1] was a Chinese essayist and historian. He was a gentleman essayist who was a biographer of his own privileged aristocratic family, a historian of the Ming Dynasty, and a biographer of notable virtuous figures. He wrote his own obituary which included the lines : He loved pretty maidservants, he loved handsome serving boys . . . he loved perfect food . . . he loved paintings of flowers and birds.[2]
Zhang was a prolific writer, having penned more than thirty books covering literature and history; however only a few of Zhang's numerous works remain extant today.
Zhang Dai's most famous books are:
Zhang Dai was born in Ming Dynasty Wanli 25th year (1597 AD) in Shanyin (山陰), now Shaoxing of Zhejiang province, China. His ancestors came from Sichuan
Zhang Dai never passed the Imperial examinations which led to the Ming civil service, instead he became a private scholar and aesthete. His family's wealth allowed him to develop his aesthetic tastes in such pursuits as Moon watching festivals, Chinese lantern design, the sponsorship of dramatic troupes, appreciation of tea, and garden and landscape aesthetics. His writing tries to convey the sensuality and subtlety of these pursuits.
His inwardly focused mind did not see the coming collapse of the Ming in 1644–1645. When anarchy and war broke over his beloved landscape in the Yangtze delta he was forced to flee to the mountains where he hid as a Buddhist monk.[2] When he returned in 1649 all his property was gone and he lived as a tenant in the ruins of one of his beloved gardens. It was here he completed his history of the Ming Dynasty, in part to explain its collapse.
For a period of time, he was the sole source of income for more than 20 of his family members. Hard physical works became a part of his daily routine. However, this time period and his culmination of literary production overlapped.[1]
He died in 1684 around the age of 88.
Zhang Dai was a prolific writer/author. By the age of 50, he had completed more than ten literary works. During his later years, nothing prevented him from writing more on what he found to be a worthy subject.[1] He was a notable author of the xiaopin, a form of short literary essay.[3]
Notable works:
Full list:
Poems:
Elderly Min Tea 閔老子茶
Chou Me-Nong bragged about Min Vin-sui's tea to me over and over. In the ninth month of 1638, I went to the City of Liu. After landing, I visited Min Vin-sui at Peach Leave Ferry. It was afternoon, and Vin-sui was out. He came back late, and I saw a grumpy old man. No sooner than introduction, he suddenly exclaimed "I forgot my cane at some one's home !" then out he went. I said to myself " I cannot afford to waste a whole day". I called again. When Vin-sui returned, it was already evening. He glanced at me, and said "Is the guest still here ? What are you here for?" "I have long heard your reputation, I will not leave here unless I get to drink Vin-sui tea" I replied. Vin-sui was pleased, and set up stove and brew tea himself, as swiftly as wind and storm. He led me into a room with bright windows and clean desk and filled with Thorn Brook tea pots and Chen Shuen Kiln porcelain cups. What an exquisite collection! Under the lamplight, the color of tea looked the same as the porcelain cups, but the tea had an aggressive aroma, I exclaimed with amazement and ask Vin-sui "Where do you obtained this tea?" "It was from the Garden of Liang" he replied. I sipped again, and said "Don't fool me, this tea was indeed made according to Liang Garden recipe, but it doesn't tasted so" "Do you know where the tea was from?" asked
Vin-sui, hiding his smile. I sipped again, and said "How come it tasted so much like Lu Gie tea?" "Odd, odd!" said Vin-sui, sticking out his tongue. I ask Vin-sui what kind of water he used. "Hui Spring water" "Don't fool me, Hui Spring water travelled thousands of miles how come the water moves but not the pebbles?" "I am not going to hide the truth any more. When one fetch Hui Spring water one must dig a well, and wait in a silent night for new water to arrive, then bucket it up quickly. Mountain pebbles would line the bottom of the jar. A boat will not move without the wind, so still water creates no pebbles......" " Odd, odd!" said he, sticking out his tongue. No sooner he uttered this words, out he went. He soon returned with a kettle and pour me a full cup of tea, and said "please try this" "It has an intense aroma and rich taste. Is this spring tea? The one I tasted before was Autumn pick" Vin-sui laughed heartily and said "In seventy years of my life, I have never met a single connoisseur like you!" We became friends.
From Book III, "Dream and Remininscence of Tao An", translated by Gisling
