On the night before he is fated to die, the warden tries to salvage Cao’s writings, which are famous across the land and coveted by many people, such the beauty of his penmanship. Cao writes through the night while locked in a cangue and fetters as the warden holds a torch so the prisoner can see the silk paper in his cold, dank and dark cell. After finishing his writing, Cao advises the warden to quit his job to lead another life, one which would be more helpful to the country. After the execution, the warden does his bit for history by holding onto Cao’s writing.

For Nguyen Tuan this story of a talented calligrapher was a way of highlighting a patriot’s dream of building a good society. Calligraphy is still an important traditional aesthetic for Vietnamese people. It is no longer a mainstream pursuit but certain enthusiasts ensure it’s preserved. Pham Manh Hung, a student with the Hanoi-based University of Industrial Fine Arts, manages to make money from writing calligraphy.
When the sun sets he writes and sells calligraphy (although he writes in Romanised Vietnamese script) at a market near the National University.

“I want to make some money to pay for my school fees,” Hung says. “Many of my classmates do the same.” At another corner of the market, Hung’s friend named Hoang Thanh Luong is also writing Vietnamese verses and expressions on stones with assorted brushes. “Each stone is priced at VND10,000,” says Luong, who has sold his calligraphy for five years.

The two young men are upholding an old tradition. In the past, scholars who had failed the entrance exams to work as civil servants or mandarins for the royal court often became teachers of young children. To supplement their life these Thay Do (teacher) or Ong Do (old scholar), would set up camp in pagodas, temples or markets, writing beautiful Chinese script, which they sold or offered to worshippers.

One of the finest traditional customs for the Vietnamese Lunar New Year is the writing of a calligraphy banner, which can be used to decorate someone’s house. The banner would feature poetry, folk sayings and parallel sentences with significant words, such as happiness, prosperity or longevity. The symmetry of parallel sentences added to the poetic power – the sentences had to contain the same number of words and followed a complex set of rules concerning the tones and meanings of the corresponding words.

Vietnamese calligraphy traces its roots back to China, where its believed the art form has existed since Shang Dynasty times (1300 BC - 1046 BC). As the Viet royal court prospered independently of China, so too did the arts. Calligraphy was regarded as a mark of sophistication amongst the liberated elite of the country and from the pre-Le Dynasty (980BC-1009BC) to the Nguyen Dynasty (1802-1945), calligraphy was taught in schools.

In more modern times calligraphy has been influenced by the New Poetry (Tho Moi) movement, which transformed poetry in Vietnam in the 1930s by ignoring rules of length and structure as well as allusions and clichés often found in Chinese T’ang poetry.

Vietnamese calligraphy is not just a style of writing but also contains symbolic connotations. Each script is a symbol, a beautiful picture and defines some aspect of the country’s identity.

“It is widely believed that each stroke of a script can show a writer’s manners, thinking and dignity. Calligraphy can train people to be patience and beauty loving,” says Nguyen Cong Tam, a calligrapher from Hanoi’s Xuan Hoa village.

“But if a script is beautiful yet badly arranged, this means that the works has no meaning.” Today, only a few specialists in Vietnam with a nuanced understanding about calligraphy remain. Most modern Vietnamese calligraphy is written with Romanised-characters, the script known as Quoc Ngu. Vu Dinh Lien, a well-known poet in the early 20th century, penned Ong Do (The Old Scholar) lamenting the loss of classic calligraphy (see below).

The Old Scholar (Ong do) by Vu Dinh Lien
Every year when the peach trees were blossoming
The old scholar appeared again, displaying
Red paper and black ink by the roadside
On the pavement crowded with passers-by
So many people hired him to write
Beautiful characters, which they admired
Praising his skillful hand and nice brushstrokes
Like flying dragons and dancing phoenixes
As the years went by, fewer people came around
Red paper turned gloomy as it faded
Black ink thickened in its sad container!
Where were those faithful customers now?
The old scholar still sat there
Without any passers-by being aware
Yellow leaves fell on his red paper
Outside the mist grew thicker
This year again the peach trees are blossoming
But no one sees the old scholar coming
Ah! The souls of those bygone years!
Where are they now? No one knows!

VietNamNet/Time-out