Prof. Charles Wu's response to essays about Li Binghan and Ding Wangdao
北外王立礼2012-05-15 11:35
2012-5-15
I read both essays with fascination. I was especially touched by your personal anecdotes about Professor Li（李秉汉）. I always thought of him with awe and admiration. He was the pillar of the main English curriculum of the department, yet he did his job quietly and modestly, never allowing himself to share the limelight of other leading professors on the faculty. The story you told about him stepping into your room to intervene on behalf of your son was truly amazing. I had no idea how much he went through during the Cultural Revolution, but certainly he deserved far better treatment than what he received throughout his career.
I had much closer contacts with Professor Ding (丁往道). What stands out first and foremost in my memory of him was the occasion when he and I sang in a quartet at one of the English Evenings. I don't remember who the other singers were except 李青原. The songs we sang were Flow Gently Sweet Afton and Auld Lang Syne, both Scottish folksongs the lyrics of which were by Robert Burns, one of my favorite poets. We must have partnered on similar occasions and collaborated as colleagues. After I became a professor of Chinese in the U.S. I got intrigued with his translation and interpretation of Chinese classics. I actually used some of his work in my teaching. I visited him several times on my trips back to Beijing, meeting his new wife after Mrs. Ding passed away. I hope you don't mind, but I forwarded your memoir to his son Ding Wen, whom I got in touch with after Professor Ding passed away.
One other thing about Professor Ding. He was an easy-going guy in his leisure time. Though not wearing a smile all the time, he, as you pointed out, would laugh heartily when he laughed, often till tears came to his eyes. I know for a fact that students loved him just as much as he loved spending extra time with his students.
I really like your style of writing. It's not just a matter writing skill but comes from a sensitivity (or Sense and Sensibility?) unique to yourself.
Charles
I read both essays with fascination. I was especially touched by your personal anecdotes about Professor Li（李秉汉）. I always thought of him with awe and admiration. He was the pillar of the main English curriculum of the department, yet he did his job quietly and modestly, never allowing himself to share the limelight of other leading professors on the faculty. The story you told about him stepping into your room to intervene on behalf of your son was truly amazing. I had no idea how much he went through during the Cultural Revolution, but certainly he deserved far better treatment than what he received throughout his career.
I had much closer contacts with Professor Ding (丁往道). What stands out first and foremost in my memory of him was the occasion when he and I sang in a quartet at one of the English Evenings. I don't remember who the other singers were except 李青原. The songs we sang were Flow Gently Sweet Afton and Auld Lang Syne, both Scottish folksongs the lyrics of which were by Robert Burns, one of my favorite poets. We must have partnered on similar occasions and collaborated as colleagues. After I became a professor of Chinese in the U.S. I got intrigued with his translation and interpretation of Chinese classics. I actually used some of his work in my teaching. I visited him several times on my trips back to Beijing, meeting his new wife after Mrs. Ding passed away. I hope you don't mind, but I forwarded your memoir to his son Ding Wen, whom I got in touch with after Professor Ding passed away.
One other thing about Professor Ding. He was an easy-going guy in his leisure time. Though not wearing a smile all the time, he, as you pointed out, would laugh heartily when he laughed, often till tears came to his eyes. I know for a fact that students loved him just as much as he loved spending extra time with his students.
I really like your style of writing. It's not just a matter writing skill but comes from a sensitivity (or Sense and Sensibility?) unique to yourself.
Charles