The garden of Liu Shilong
Brilliant mist floats among the leaves; fine birds are perched among the branches. Walking and lying amongst them, one can achieve a leisurely communion with them. Such is the beauty of the trees and shrubs in my garden.
This radiant scene is taken from the ‘Record of the Garden That is Not Around’ by Liu Shilong, a remarkable piece written by a scholar in late-Ming China (early 17th century). The garden captured my attention when I found a brief reference to it in the wonderfully titled, The Hall of Uselessness, a collection of essays by Simon Leys. Fortunately I was able to track down an English translation of the original by Stanislaus Fun, which I have used here.
Beautiful textures and pure fragrances are offered by the earth according to the seasons, and people take advantage of them as they compose rhapsodies, holding cups to their mouths. Such is the beauty of the flowering plants in my garden.
Liu Shilong commences the description of his ‘Garden That is Not Around’ by reflecting on great gardens that have long since disappeared, observing that they only endure on paper. ‘What there is’ eventually becomes ‘what there is not’, and when the physical traces are gone, we are left with the descriptions and images of what had existed. If this is the case, and only words remain, then what distinguishes what was from what could be? Where does memory end and imagination start?
Then there are paths through bamboo leading to secluded spots, which become better as they turn, and labyrinthine walks amidst flowers which, as a wall turns, take one to the same spot: such are the meanderings of my garden.
And so, Liu Shilong wonders what differentiates these accounts of gardens past from the garden that he constructs. ‘Nothings might be taken as Somethings. Why should one on paper not be my garden?’, the author boldly asks. The immediate response is that those gardens were real, they did exist. Perhaps. But how do we know? The foundations no longer stand, their remnants are long gone. These gardens endure through words and ideas. We know because we are told, we read, it was like this. And yet… can we be sure it was this and not that? And if we cannot be sure, then why cannot it be that? Thus, Lui Shilong’s garden is distinguished: ‘as an imaginary construction, its composition can be without limit. This is the reason for my garden’s superiority.’
A new lotus leaf emerging from the water is of a tender green that pierces the eye. Simple vegetables covering the fields seem like distant jade floating in the air. Such is the freshness of my garden.
Liu Shilong’s vision is evocative, tantalising. His garden is a beautiful one. In the commentary accompanying the translation, Fun notes that the title is often rendered in English as ‘The Garden That Never Existed’, but this misleads. Rather, what the more precise ‘Garden That is Not Around’ conveys is that it is not a question of existence or nonexistence, but presence and absence. As Fun explains, ‘not being around is one of its characteristics, much like the garden’s pavilions or pine trees.’ The garden need not physically exist for it to be real. Put differently, the constructed nature of Liu Shilong’s garden is one of its distinguishing features.
To a pavilion placed on a precipitous cliff, one can climb up by a winding path. Over a bridge connecting sheer banks, one can traverse suspended in space. These are the dangerous and wonderful spots in my garden.
Liu Shilong created something impressive, awe-inspiring, which he was generous enough to give to us. ‘I have my garden always and share my garden with others always.’ Always. He was correct, it has withstood the test of time. Indeed, his ‘Garden That is Not Around’ has outlasted many other ‘real’ gardens, which became ‘something’ and turned into ‘nothing’. What skill, what craft.
My garden employs not shapes, but ideas, and thus wind and rain cannot dilapidate it, water and fire cannot harm it.
Liu Shilong’s garden continues to endure on paper, just as vivid and enchanting as when it was first built. A remarkable achievement, that.