We're watching a 24-part Chinese series called "My Fair Princess." [More literally, "Return of my Royal Daughter Who is Cherished Like a Pearl."] It's a rags-to-riches story centered on Little Swallow, a clever poor girl with no manners but plenty of chutzpah. And her friend Purple Lilac, the emperor's lost daughter, who everyone thinks is just a maid even though she has musical, poetic and calligraphic skills and can play a mean game of Go. The story is set in the Qing Dynasty and provides an occasion for colorful costumes, period décor and kung-fu bravado a la "Crouching Tiger." It's not a bad way to spend a weekend, though with my rudimentary Chinese I understand about 2% of it and am constantly asking my wife to translate.
"What did she say? What did she say?"
"She's confessing the truth to the Emperor. He's pissed. He thinks he's been cheated by both Little Swallow and Purple Lilac."
The two are promptly hauled off to prison, where they are subjected to lashings by an evil official. Historical fantasies like this one often show apparently delicate young women performing incredible feats of strength and agility, and also suffering cruel torments which they endure with dignity [the worst so far was a drawn out scene of torture-by-acupuncture]. There's a lot of roughing it up physical comedy, jabbing, poking, fighting, shouting. Yet its all in the service of a painfully sweet story of longing and regret a daughter in search of a lost father, and an older man remembering a lost love.
Despite the language barrier, I'm enthralled and moved. As with translated poetry, much is lost allusions and idioms, familiar historical references, cultural in-jokes. Chinese viewers, my wife says, know the Emperor depicted in this story was a real historical figure, with a reputation as a fairly good ruler but also a bit of a playboy. To me, he resembles Yul Brynner. "Little Swallow," meanwhile, reminds me of Eliza Doolittle exasperating and charming the court with her coarse eating habits and slang.
Missing reference points, I supply some of my own. The experience is neither completely "foreign" nor "familiar" I'm conscious of the universal themes, the constants of human behaviour, and also of the specifics which remain distinct and mysterious.
8:39:40 PM 
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