Master storyteller has something to say
How many parents tell folk stories to their children before bedtime? Certainly not as many as decades ago. One possible reason may be that parents today know fewer folk tales than their fathers and grandfathers. Many also think these tales are superstitious and want to keep their children away from such "silly talk".
This is why many folk literature experts and aging storytellers today feel sad.
They fear the tradition of telling folk tales is waning, and future generations of children will no longer appreciate the charm of the oral literature, which can transmit mercy, kindness and wisdom.
Eighty-two-year-old Tan Zhenshan is one of these worriers. The farmer from a small village in Northeast China's Liaoning Province has been dubbed "the last singer of the farming age" and can tell more than 1,000 folk tales. His ability must make him one of China's top storytellers.
Tan was recently designated as one of China's Intangible Cultural Heritage Inheritors in the Folk Literature section. Tan attributes his genius for vivid narration to childhood enlightenment.
When he was five, his grandmother would lull him to sleep every night by telling him stories about ghosts, fairies, folk customs and historical legends. "These tales encourage people to help each other and extol that virtue will have a good reward and evil with bad recompense," he says.
In his teens, Tan's family moved to Taipingzhuang, a prosperous town where merchants from across the country converged. These traders also brought many new stories, which broadened Tan's treasure chest of folk tales.
Tan became a storytelling star in his school at age 14. "There was a weekly storytelling class every Friday," he says. "I outdid most students and performed in many classes, which helped me perfect my narrating skills."
For many years, when there were few leisure activities, Tan's storytelling sessions were a must for villagers during the slack farming periods in summer and winter.
In 1992, Tan attended the World Folk Story Expo held in Japan. His lively performance broke the barriers of language and culture, and captured the hearts of folk artists and scholars from more than 30 countries. Local government officials hailed Tan's stories as a mirror of the civilized and benevolent Chinese.
Tan is unhappy that TV, mahjong and computer games have kidnapped most of his listeners in recent years. His extensive collection of the folk tales is under the threat of extinction. "My major audience were villagers in the 1960s, and then people outside, mostly journalists and folklore scholars, after the 1980s," he says. "But now, I could only talk to recorders and cameras."
Only two in his family, his fourth son Tan Wenhai and granddaughter Tan Limin, have inherited Tan's passion for telling stories.
"I hope that my stories can be well documented and passed down to future generations," he says. "I don't want to take them with me into the grave after all."
(China Daily 07/03/2007 page19)
