Satirical Comedy, "Rose-Thorn Pen", a Smile Hiding a Dagger, Baiting with Sweet Scent

 

【Satirical Comedy, "Rose-Thorn Pen", a Smile Hiding a Dagger, Baiting with Sweet Scent】

Nantai

The nobility and difficulty of writing a comedic novel both stem from its higher technical demands compared to tragedy. Therefore, writers aspiring to pen comedic novels, or readers seeking to engage with them, must first understand the mechanics of the "Rose-Thorn Pen" (a metaphor for writing that blends beauty with sharp critique). Comedy never speaks plainly—even satirical comedy, the form with the lowest technical threshold among comedic genres, often relies on devices like "saying the opposite of what one means," "using positive words to convey negativity," "speaking of white but referring to black," "honeyed words hiding a venomous heart," and "a smile concealing a dagger." Without a quick mind to interpret these layers, one can never grasp the true intent.

As the saying goes, "A thousand tragedies and a hundred straight dramas are easy; one genuine comedy is hard to find." The difficulty lies in this: straight dramas and tragedies are like building palaces—they aim for grandeur and beauty, leaving readers with nothing but admiration from below. Comedy, however, is like building a maze. It requires not only grandeur and beauty but also lets readers savor the joy of solving puzzles and the sense of accomplishment in "not getting lost."

Take The Scholars (the pioneering comedic novel in Chinese literature) as an example. There is a detail where after Fan Jin passes the imperial examination (a pivotal achievement in ancient China), officials everywhere curry favor with him, and he seizes the opportunity to exploit their hospitality for personal gain. Once, shortly after his mother’s death, Fan Jin—who was supposed to observe a period of mourning (a Confucian ritual requiring abstinence from luxuries and meat)—visits Magistrate Tang with Zhang Jingzhai.

Magistrate Tang hosts them with a feast. Initially, silver-inlaid cups and chopsticks are served, but Fan Jin hesitates and refuses to use them. The magistrate hurries to replace them with porcelain cups and ivory chopsticks, yet Fan Jin still declines to move. It is only when a pair of plain white bamboo chopsticks are brought out that he finally agrees to eat. However, just as Magistrate Tang worries that Fan Jin, in his devotion to mourning rituals, might refuse meat and wine (and regrets not preparing vegetarian dishes), he watches in surprise as Fan Jin picks a large shrimp ball from a bowl of bird’s nest soup and pops it into his mouth.

See? This is the twisted cleverness of comedy. The author offers no commentary, no trace of indignation—just a calm, matter-of-fact narration, as if chatting about something trivial. Yet readers cannot remain calm; their minds are stirred. "Who are you pretending to be, a filial son?" they think. "You refuse ivory chopsticks for bamboo ones, yet you gobble down shrimp balls!" In an instant, his veneer of virtue crumbles, revealing the hypocrisy beneath his respectable appearance. The author, seemingly indifferent on the surface, plants "landmines" in the narrative—landmines that readers cannot help but "step on."

This is the "hidden thorn in the rose" of the "Rose-Thorn Pen": it is both the difficulty of writing comedy and the reason readers love it. When readers "step on the mine," their excitement rises, and they feel a sense of satisfaction: "Look how sharp I am! The author hid the mine so well, but I still found it!" It gives readers a sense of accomplishment in discovery.

Included in #MyViewsOnLiterature Personal Opinions, For Reference Only 52, Ningxia, March 26, 2025, 06:37