I developed Xiaoyin’s passion for listening to storytelling more or less unintentionally.
I’ve been a fan of pingshu since childhood, which isn’t surprising for a child living in the pre-television era when radio reigned supreme. I remember being most captivated by Liu Lanfang’s “The Legend of Yue Fei” and “Generals of the Yang Family,” but as I grew older, my tastes gradually evolved. My most enduring fascinations are two books: Yuan Kuocheng’s “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” and Zhang Yuekai’s “The Flying Dagger of Little Li” (a Cantonese pingshu). The former is easier to find. In 2001, I bought a set of “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” from Jiajia Audiobook Library. I listened to it over and over again, and the more I listened, the more addicted I became. I copied it to a portable hard drive and any computer I might use, so I could enjoy it at any time.
I most often listen to storytelling while cooking. Cooking has its own joys, but doing it every day can inevitably become a bit tedious. If I can complement it with the joy of storytelling, it’s naturally exhilarating. I always have a storytelling setup in the kitchen. Sometimes, by the time the meal is ready, the storytelling is at its peak, and I can’t bear to put it down, so I move it to the dining table to continue listening. Therefore, this storytelling setup needs to be portable. The ideal setup is a laptop with a pair of small speakers, or a more sophisticated MP3 player with a pair of powered small speakers. The sound quality of the speakers isn’t crucial, but the volume needs to be high enough. With all the appliances running in the kitchen, it can be difficult to hear the storytelling clearly.
At first, Xiaoyin just listened intermittently, but then she became hooked. She’d even come into the kitchen to listen while I cooked. I’d assign her tasks like washing rice and vegetables, peeling potatoes, chopping tomatoes, and beating eggs, and she happily obliged. For a while, I listened to “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” on repeat, immediately starting over again after each listening session. She’d follow my lead and listen to it almost completely. As anyone who’s listened to it knows, it’s a very long book, and it’s quite difficult for a six or seven-year-old to listen to it from beginning to end. Seeing her addiction, I collected audiobooks for her to try. Over the past few years, I’ve listened to quite a few books while cooking and eating. Some of them fascinated me, some I enjoyed, and some I simply lost patience with. Here are a few books she particularly enjoyed, and which I also think are particularly good. These audiobooks are generally available online for download, and some are also available as e‑books. I’m just sharing them here. :)
1. Yuan Kuocheng’s “Romance of the Three Kingdoms”
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: There are many versions of storytelling about the Three Kingdoms, but I particularly love Yuan’s version. On reflection, there are two reasons for this: one is its elegance, and the other is its masterful interpretation. This requires some explanation.
Pingshu (pinghua) originates from popular culture, so it’s not surprising that it’s infused with folk slang. However, some storytelling pieces are peppered with vulgarity, a practice that inevitably raises eyebrows among those who value their status. For example, Mr. Shan Tianfang, another renowned Pingshu master, treads this traditional path. His interpretations of classics like “Water Margin” and “Romance of the Sui and Tang Dynasties” bring the various characters and untamed folk to life. However, these characters are almost universally filled with vulgar language, and curse words like “fuck” are everywhere. While this may have been their original nature, it still feels rather awkward to listen to with children.
In contrast, Yuan Kuocheng’s storytelling is remarkably elegant. Sometimes you might even feel his words are pedantic, but if you listen closely, you can still hear them flowing from the vernacular, though this master storyteller handles them with remarkable clarity. I once heard the story of Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei visiting Zhuge Liang’s thatched cottage, returning without meeting him, and Yuan Kuocheng’s praise of the scenery of Wolonggang through Liu Bei’s mouth. I couldn’t help but be mesmerized. This passage is a prime example of the fusion of scene and emotion. It suddenly made me realize that the art of oral language could achieve such exquisite, vivid, and perfect levels of sophistication. Yuan Kuocheng conducted extensive research for his interpretation of “The Romance of the Three Kingdoms,” even consulting a lost version in Japan. Whenever a significant figure passed away, Yuan Kuocheng would offer a detailed commentary on their life and merits, his mastery far surpassing that of ordinary researchers. “Pingshu” (pinghua) is essentially a combination of storytelling and commentary.
As for the art of storytelling, I understand it to be primarily about two aspects: using spoken language to create an immersive atmosphere, drawing the audience into the story; and using spoken language to depict and portray the characters’ personalities. Yuan Kuocheng’s “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” achieves a high level in both of these aspects, especially the latter. I love the Gucheng meeting between the “Flying General” and Guan Yu the most. I never tire of it. In that scene, the lovable Zhang Fei comes alive, as if right before my eyes.
Compared to many renowned storytellers, Yuan Kuocheng’s most striking characteristic is his humor. It seems innate, innate, and difficult to imitate or acquire. Another renowned storyteller, Mr. Tian Zhanyi, is also quite good, and I’m told he studied under Yuan Kuocheng. Their storytelling style does bear some resemblance, but the biggest difference lies in their humor. After accustomed to Yuan Kuocheng, switching to Tian Zhanyi can feel quite dull. Of course, Mr. Tian’s storytelling (for example, “Li Zicheng”) has a distinct flavor.
2. The Investiture of the Gods by Yuan Kuocheng
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: This book may have multiple versions, but I’ve only heard of this one, having stumbled upon it while looking for books for my child. I’m not a huge fan myself, but my daughter is, even more so than Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Thinking about it, I think it’s probably because the book has a lot of mythology and folk tales, and to some extent, it borders on fairy tales, which is why my child loves it so much.
The reason I can’t say I particularly like it is that the book’s internal logic isn’t very rigorous. While the imagination is rich, it feels forced and even full of internal contradictions. It’s far from as polished as “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.” Mr. Yuan begins by saying, “This book is about science fiction.” Haha, I find that quite amusing. I imagine he adapted it from traditional storytelling. While some effort has been made, it’s not particularly rigorous, preserving the original style as much as possible. Some of the jokes are even directly borrowed from “Romance of the Three Kingdoms,” simply repurposed.
But after all, it is a book written by Mr. Yuan, and the characters in the book are very vivid. The most interesting ones are the somewhat dull Jiang Ziya and the trouble-making Shen Gongbao. What surprised me most is that the images of the two treacherous ministers Fei Zhong and You Hun he described are so vivid that they almost make people like them.
There are many strange and bizarre characters in this book, which most people may not pay much attention to when reading. However, when Yuan Kuocheng tells the story, they suddenly come alive and have a fairy-tale atmosphere.
3. The Marsh of Liangshan by Yuan Kuocheng
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: It’s important to note that this book tells the stories of characters from Water Margin, but it’s not Water Margin itself; the stories only occasionally overlap. It’s likely based on folk legends, with the main plot centering on the battle between Shi Qian, the drum flea, and the evil monk Seng Tiefo. The two main sections are the Three Attacks on Zhujiazhuang and the Raid on Shenzhou Arena.
I stumbled upon this book while searching for a storytelling version of the Water Margin. I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the various versions currently available (mostly, I felt they weren’t particularly suitable for children), for reasons I’ve already mentioned. At first, I felt a bit skewed by “Water Margin” (水馬梁山), primarily because it felt so far removed from the Water Margin story. But as I gradually absorbed it, I found it incredibly engaging. Yuan Kuocheng’s version of the story had some logical flaws, perhaps due to its pure folklore roots. However, his adaptation has transformed the most remarkable aspect—his masterful characterizations, especially Shi Qian, are perhaps the most successful. As you listen, you can’t help but fall in love with him, and as your joy grows, you can’t help but fall in love with the book itself. My daughter’s love for this book is second only to “Investiture of the Gods.”
This book has also made me particularly appreciate the unique charm of folk art. For example, when I read “Water Margin” before, I barely paid attention to the character Shi Qian. But after the storyteller’s treatment, I felt like I’d met him too late. Another example is Li Kui in “Water Margin.” He’s also a very distinct character, but while somewhat endearing, he’s also quite brutal. Especially when he occasionally murders entire families in his underpants with an axe (as in Hujia Village), and then gloats about turning himself into a bloody mess. It’s really terrifying when you think about it. But in Yuan Kuocheng’s “Water Margin,” Li Kui becomes completely endearing, and the scene where he accompanies Wu Yong on his visit to Daming Mansion is incredibly funny.
I guess Mr. Yuan must be a storyteller with a very childlike heart. It would be wonderful if he had the opportunity to tell picture book stories!
4. The King of Western Chu by Yuan Kuocheng
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: This book is considered short in the realm of storytelling, with only 50 chapters. It tells the story from the fall of the Qin Dynasty, the rise of Liu Bang and Xiang Yu, to the early stages of the Chu-Han Contention. I personally enjoy it very much, its only drawback being that it’s too short and not very engaging. My daughter has listened to it twice with me and only moderately enjoyed it.
Yuan Kuocheng demonstrates his masterful historical storytelling skills in this book. As with his interpretation of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, he must have conducted extensive research and compilation before adapting it. While the story may sound legendary, it also has a strong foundation when it comes to key events and figures. While listening to this type of storytelling cannot replace studying history, it can be a fascinating way to engage with it, primarily because the storyteller offers insightful perspectives on historical events and figures, and his familiarity with traditional culture is truly admirable.
5. Yao Xijuan’s Dream of the Red Chamber
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: This version is not a storytelling, but rather a reading of selected excerpts. This is a rendition by a highly skilled language artist. “Dream of the Red Chamber” features numerous characters, the vast majority of whom are beautiful women. While each has distinct personalities, their nuances are exquisitely nuanced, making it exceedingly difficult to capture the distinct flavors of each. Yao Xijuan’s reading is generally gentle and restrained, but her mastery lies in her handling of the dialogue. She clearly distinguishes the distinctive voices of over a dozen key characters, so clearly that you can tell which is Jia Baoyu, Lin Daiyu, or Xue Baochai, and which is Jia Mu, Feng Jieer, or Liu Laolao, without even needing to be named.
For fans of “Dream of the Red Chamber,” this book is a real treat, but I didn’t expect my daughter to enjoy it so much. I had a whim to give it to her after she’d already fallen in love with the comic book set, and she’s actually hooked. Maybe boys have a harder time with it; I tried it with a little boy, and he ran away after just a few sentences, haha.
There is indeed a storytelling version of “Dream of the Red Chamber”. I downloaded Liu Lanfang’s storytelling version of “Dream of the Red Chamber”, but I found it a bit difficult to listen to. It is better to read this kind of book directly.
6. Liu Baorui’s stand-up comedy
Excellent: ★★★★★
Introduction: Mr. Liu Baorui has many classic stand-up comedy routines, all essentially storytelling. I used to be confused about the difference between them and storytelling. I remember his favorite as a child: “Pearl Jade White Jade Soup.” A few years ago, I happened to remember it and downloaded it online. It brought back fond memories and new insights.
I dragged my daughter along to listen, and she was thoroughly entertained, laughing from beginning to end. I discovered other versions online, so I listened to Guo Degang’s version. This time, my daughter didn’t laugh much, and I felt less than impressed. So I listened to Liu Baorui’s version over and over again, discovering new things with each retelling, and each time, my daughter burst out laughing. Two renowned crosstalk artists were telling the same story, so why was the former so entertaining, while the latter’s was so mediocre? After much reflection, I realized the latter’s storytelling skills were more like storytelling—excellent eloquence, but he failed to capture the story’s essence of humor. Liu Baorui’s version, on the other hand, reached the pinnacle of perfection, captivating every moment, even the pauses.
For example, the part where Zhu Yuanzhang entertains his officials, with the officials entering the hall and taking their seats, awaiting the start of the banquet. This isn’t the most crucial part of the story, but Mr. Liu Baorui has already begun to meticulously create the atmosphere, using a fake conversation between two officials, with their hypocritical demeanors. When the eunuchs enter with their heads tilted, carrying the sour, smelly tofu soup, there are multiple pauses in between, each of which reminds the audience of the fawning, hypocritical, suspicious, and awkward expressions of the officials and eunuchs in the hall. The more you think about it, the more amused you become—this is an excellent example of using verbal language to create an atmosphere.
This master of folk art excels at using the notion of reality and illusion to evoke the audience’s associations, engaging them and forming part of the story. Crosstalk sketches like these also require characterization, but unlike storytelling, which can occupy lengthy segments, they employ more of a caricature approach, employing extreme exaggeration yet also vividly portraying them. In this story, the impoverished Zhu Yuanzhang, the domineering Hongwu Emperor, two unruly beggars, the unfortunate county magistrate, and the two fictitious officials all acquire distinct character traits in a remarkably short time. Zhang Haogu, from another classic sketch, “Three Consecutive Promotions,” occupies a larger space, making his characterizations even more distinct.
These performance techniques are quite similar to those used in storytelling. So what is the difference between stand-up comedy and storytelling?
I remember Mr. Liu Baorui once answered this question in a stand-up comedy piece. He said something like this: The fundamental difference between stand-up comedy and pingshu is that crosstalk is meant to amuse, while pingshu doesn’t. Therefore, a pingshu that doesn’t amuse can still be considered a good story, but a stand-up comedy that doesn’t amuse is definitely not a good story. Beyond that, I can’t think of any further differences. Speaking of which, Mr. Yuan Kuocheng’s pingshu also has many amusing bits.
However, another remarkable quality of stand-up comedy, as Mr. Liu Baorui describes it, is the refined language. Listening to these classic pieces over and over again, they truly reach that near-perfect state of “one more word is too complex, one less is too simple.” If transcribed, they could serve as models of classic literature. For example, the text of “Three Consecutive Promotions” was actually included in middle school Chinese language textbooks. Therefore, listening to this kind of crosstalk is not only a form of entertainment and spiritual enjoyment, but also an excellent way to learn the language!
I’ll just mention a few of these. Actually, my daughter and I have listened to far more pingshu and crosstalk together, and the ones above are just a few that I think are particularly classic and almost must-hear.
For example, my daughter and I rewatched stories I loved as a child, like “The Legend of Yue Fei” and “Generals of the Yang Clan.” But for some reason, when I listen to them again now, I don’t enjoy them as much anymore, and I even feel a slight dislike for them. The formulas in these old stories are incredibly strong. For example, in “Generals of the Yang Clan,” whenever a young hero appears, we know he’s another descendant of the Yang family. Whenever the young hero meets a girl who rescues him, we can easily predict that she’ll soon become the hero’s wife, often betrothed to him since childhood. And when the great hero faces a disaster, it’s a no-brainer that a lesser hero or his wife will eventually come to the rescue. And an enemy that even a hundred thousand troops couldn’t handle can be easily defeated by a single hero or his wife. Not only is the story’s logic questionable, but the underlying message is also somewhat tedious.
In reality, pingshu and crosstalk were born from popular culture. Their vulgar story structures and the vulgarity of their spoken language are understandable. Even works that aren’t necessarily high-quality can be quite enjoyable to listen to for entertainment. However, times have changed, living environments have changed, and social dynamics have changed. I always feel that some things need to change.
When sharing these folk art works with my children, I tend to prefer those that are elegant and refined, rich in humor, carry a rich cultural heritage, are not too old-fashioned in concept, and preferably have a literary appeal. After all, such works do exist, and the ones mentioned above can serve as examples.
However, I still need to make a special statement that my random comments here are mainly from the perspective of sharing with children (roughly under 12 years old). As the recipients, there is not much difference between older children and adults, and their perspectives and interests of appreciation are naturally different.
