This is going to be a short diary; it’s more of a tribute to one of my favorite fantasy novels.
Barry Hughart died on August 1, 2019, at the age of 85. Hughart was the author of three novels set in “an ancient China that never was”: Bridge of Birds, The Story of the Stone, and Eight Skilled Gentlemen. The first, Bridge of Birds, won the World Fantasy Award for Best Novel in 1985, as well as the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Adult Literature (Best Book, 1986).
Born in Peoria, IL in 1934, to a father who was a Naval officer and a mother who was an architect, Hughart graduated from Columbia University in 1956 and joined the Air Force the same year, serving for four years in the Korean DMZ laying mines. It was here that he began to develop his lifelong interest in China. After leaving the military, working with TechTop (a military surplus company based in Asia), and then managing a bookstore, Hughart settled down in Tucson, AZ.
Published in 1984, Bridge of Birds was intended to be the first of seven novels, each one chronicling the adventures of Li Kao, a scholar with a “slight flaw in his character,” and his assistant, the strong, simple, good-hearted Number Ten Ox. The book is based on the Chinese myth of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, who meet once a year on a bridge formed by the Milky Way. In the book, Master Li and Number Ten Ox are searching for a cure after the children of Ox’s village are accidentally poisoned, with the clues to the cure and the whereabouts of a missing goddess hidden in the children’s rhyming game.
The language of the book isn’t epic, but it is light as well as lighthearted, with poetic allusions, references to Chinese myth, and an ironic humor that makes its ending all the more poignant. (There are also moments of gallows humor and slapstick that suggest a Jackie Chan/Chow-Yun Fat-style buddy movie.) At its heart, it’s a multitude of love stories. There is the love of Jade Pearl and the Star Shepherd; Number Ten Ox’s adoration of Lotus Cloud; Doctor Death and Chiang-chao, “the most wonderful wife in the world”; the dancer Bright Star and her soldier; and Miser Shen, his wife, and their little girl Ah Chen. And there is a passage I will never forget, even if someday I lose the book.
She wasn’t even pretty. Lotus Cloud was pure peasant, with big feet, short thick legs, large square hands, and a plain flat face. She stopped short and examined me with her head cocked at an angle, and she looked for all the world like a country girl who was trying to decide whether or not to buy a pet at a fair. I could almost hear her think, Yes, I’ll take this cute thing home with me. And then she grinned.
I cannot describe that grin. It was as though all the hope and joy and love and laughter that there was in the whole world had gathered into a fist that reached out and belted me in the heart, and the next thing I knew I was on my knees with my arms wrapped around her legs and my head pressed against her thighs.
“My surname is Lu and my personal name is Yu, but I am not to be confused with the eminent author of The Classic of Tea, and everyone calls me Number Ten Ox,” I moaned.
She laughed softly, and her fingers played with my hair.
“I shall call you Boopsie,” she said.
Hughart wrote no more books after Eight Skilled Gentlemen — blaming its ending on “unsympathetic and incompetent publishers” — who, among other things, didn’t notify him of the awards Bridge of Birds won, and after Eight Skilled Gentlemen refused to publish any hardcover copies of future novels, leading Hughart to give up writing because he couldn’t afford to. But he wrote dialogue for several films, such as Devil’s Bride and Snow Job, and his trilogy is now offered in omnibus form with illustrations by “Girl Genius” co-creator Kaja Foglio.
I wish I could quote the entire last page of the book, but I’d violate fair usage doing so. Instead, I will just suggest that you find a copy and read it for yourself.
Thank you, Mr. Hughart. Rest well.