XII (Suzhou's Gardens: Part 1)

Over the winter break I visited Suzhou, an old city near Kunshan famous for its gardens. I went to two of them, The Master of the Nets Garden (网师园), and The Humble Administrator's Garden (拙政园). Though they were beautiful and seemingly special, it was difficult to know what I was looking at. The Master of Nets was located thorough a series of winding alleyways in the south of Suzhou's old town, an area cut through and surround by water canals. "The Venice of China." We arrived in the morning, paid, and proceeded to wander through the buildings, courtyards, and open areas, taking in the synthesis of architecture, plant life, water pools and rock formations all constructed with great intent. Later, traveling to up the Humble Administrator's Garden, the confusion grew as not only was the second garden much much larger, but that there were hundreds of people there wandering around taking pictures. My idea of a garden is a cliche: a space to relax, a quiet place where one can take a break. Yet here this was not the case, moving through crowds in search of space. In both gardens there was very little explanatory material.

Obviously I didn't know enough about these gardens to make sense of them. The solution to this problem is seemingly easy: get a book, hire a guide, read some history, etc. This is a way to do it, to experience the garden through the lens of stories and symbolism, to understand who built it and why, what the peacock mural represents and which great poets lived in which pavilions. And then there is the long game, the literary references and the paintings inspired by the place. Like seeing one's campus on TV, it looks different in real life, and vice versa, one can connect the fantasy to the reality. Like finally meeting the person that you've been reading about for so long, and there is much to talk about. All said, both of these options requires an investment in a particular kind of learning, one that is probably best done over a long period of time where through reading and learning about all things China, different contexts illuminate the picture. Like studies on reading comprehension show, reading is much easier and faster when you already know something about what you're reading. And so the more I know about China and Chinese history, the more I can appreciate these gardens. 

I've been in China for five months as of a few days ago. Though I've certainly studied China in the past, I never did so systematically outside of a Chinese history class twenty year ago in high school. But even with that, anything before the 20th Century is a great mass of crumbling statues and disembodied dynasties. Since I've been here, I've been listening to podcasts, studying Chinese of course, and reading as much as I can in terms of contemporary China because I do love reading newspapers. But the long, long past of China is something that I have yet to start really digging into (Yes, I will read Jonathan Spence sooner than later. I swear). And I'm not complaining here, but I am saying that I don't know nearly enough to understand these gardens.  My point however is not about history, or my ignorance, but about learning and the presumption that underlines this entire discussion: that to understand these gardens I need to know stories and facts, such that I can read these gardens like I could a book, the garden held as an object of contemplation, frozen in time and D.O.A. Which is odd since it's a garden. It's alive. I wonder then if there might be another way to approach the wonders of China without needing years of study, one that does not reduce the experience to a series of exam questions.