Tag Archives: 华罗庚公园

The Light Thief

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Chinese culture is filled with wisdom proverbs that refer to specific behaviors deemed socially and personally desirable. One of them (凿壁偷光) stresses the importance of studying hard under tough conditions. The Chinese characters roughly translates into “to cut a hole in the wall to steal light.” Of course, there is a longer story behind that.

Kuang Heng came from the Western Han dynasty. He was born into a poor family, but he had dreams and aspirations beyond poverty. He loved books, wanted to learn, and he wanted to study hard. His family, however, could not afford candles. This meant he couldn’t read at night. So, Kuang Heng cut a hole in his wall. Light from his neighbor’s home streamed in. And with this solitary beam, he was able to study. Many, many nights and texts later, he was able to do very well on the exams aspiring civil servants must take in Imperial China. Eventually, he grew in rank and significance. This story, this proverb, is often used now by Chinese parents when encouraging students to work harder in school and at their students.

As for the statue, it’s one of three with idioms in Jintan’s Hua Luogeng Park 华罗庚公园. It literally depicts a boy reading next to a hole in the wall. Another nearby stresses the importance of filial piety. This is practically Jintan’s small central park, and one of the entrances is on Dongmendajie 东门大街. The park itself is walking distance between the bus station and area’s fashionable shopping district.

Jintan’s Genius

In the memorial hall at Yuchi Park.

If humankind ever receives a signal from an alien species, that signal would likely be in something like prime numbers or an equation of some sort. This is something that scientists often argue, especially the ones at SETI.  Math, it has been said, is the only universal language. While true, it’s also one of a many clever ways math nerds can argue the importance of the their academic field. As for me, simple arithmetic can be agonizingly frustrating. I have trouble with numbers when I don’t have a calculator nearby. Even then, I’m still pretty stupid. I realized this because, well, mathematics from a humanities perspective is still fascinating. Recently, I was confronted with this while trying to figure out a prominent figure in Jintan’s history.

Huo Luogeng hailed from Changzhou’s Jintan district. He made significant contributions to number theory, but trying to figure out what “number theory” actually is made my head spin. Eventually, I gave up and just started doing Google searches on SETI’s hunt for aliens, instead. Once I regained courage to look at math theories again, I found myself distracted more by Huo Luogeng’s biography. Again, this would be looking at academic field from a humanities perspective.

The statue in a park named in Hua Luogeng’s honor.

Huo was born in Jintan in 1910. Like most prodigies, he excelled early and was nurtured by a teacher. He then went on to teach himself math and the corresponding advanced theories. The word for this type of person is “autodidact.” Huo was an autodidact. Most of these people, in my reading and studies, have been writers. The famous American playwright Arthur Miller, for example, had no formal training or college education. Same with Huo. He never got a PHD in mathematics, but he went on to make significant contributions.

Think about that. He never got a doctorate. And he ended teaching at Tsinghua University in Bejing. That’s China’s Ivy League. Speaking of that, he also taught at Princeton in the USA. And Cambridge in the UK. Over his career, he was lauded with many honorary degrees, but he never really earned a real one. Eventually, he died from a heart attack after finishing a lecture in Japan.

Jintan remembers this man well. There is a park named after him in the district’s center. There, you can find a statue of him sitting and holding a mug of some hot beverage. This is Hua Luogeng Park 华罗庚公园, and it’s not that far from the district’s intercity coach station. And, by the way, it takes an hour to get there from Changzhou’s downtown station on an express bus.

Much farther away, you can find a memorial hall in his honor. Its in a different place altogether —  Yuchi Park愚池公园. In theory, you can walk there from the bus station, but its a long distance and a taxi would be much easier.

Kong Rong and Small Pears

A younger sibling gives a pear to an older sibling.

The Chinese is 孔融让梨, or in Pinyin without the proper tone markers: kong rong rang li. If you translate the characters verbatim, you get “Kong Rong yeild pear.” In the picture, you can barely make out the characters, but I sent the photo to a Chinese friend who is native to Changzhou’s Jintan District.  Turns out, many Chinese people could probably figure this out, due to how famous the expression is.

Kong Rong was both a scholar and a descendant of Confucius. His literary achievements likely outlive his acts as a minor warlord. Once, he spoke ill of Cao Cao, a Chancellor of the Eastern Han Dynasty. Both Kong Rong and his entire family were executed as a result, and their corpses were left in the street  As ancient Chinese history goes, this was during the Three Kingdoms period.  The killing of the family is strangely a reminder of a different part of Chinese culture.

Family is important in The Middle Kingdom in a way it just isn’t in the west. Honoring your father and following his orders are paramount. That’s filial piety, two English words seldomly used in the USA or UK. But it even gets into sibling hierarchy.  Younger brothers are supposed to respect older brothers — the same with older sisters and younger sisters.

As legend goes, as a boy, Kong Rong would only pick up or pick small pears to eat. This would be from or around the trees near his home. Why? He felt it was his duty to leave the plumper, juicier fruit for his elder brothers. Hence, 孔融让梨, or “Kong Rong yeilds pears.”

As for this sculpture, it’s in Jintan’s Hua Luogeng Park 华罗庚公园. It’s one of three statues dedicated to Chinese idioms.  The park itself is in walking distance from the long-distance bus terminal.

Ni Hao, Jintan: Hua Luogeng Park

“A lot of people died here,” a Chinese friend once told me. “Tai Ping rebels killed them and dumped them into this canal.” He peered over the railing and at the murky water. ” There may even still be bodies at the bottom.” He said this with a matter-of-factness that I just believed outright. I didn’t see any historical markers to this effect, but Jintan is his hometown — something he takes pride in.  And, when talking about Tai Ping Rebels, he’s referring to The Heavenly Kingdom (太平天国); as civil conflicts goes, this was not only the bloodiest in Chinese history, but global history in general.  It happened around the same time America had its own civil war.

But let me back up a bit. My friend and I were standing on a bridge, There was a remnant of an historic wall gate behind us.  Old skeletons might or might have been in the water beneath us, and Hua Luogeng Park 华罗庚公园 surrounded us.  So did Jintan. Two years ago, it was an independent satellite city under Changzhou’s jurisdiction.  Last year, it lost its independence and became

Jintan’s mathematical genius, Hua Luogeng.

Changzhou’s newest district.  The same thing happened to the once-city of Wujin many, many years ago. Such things happen when

Chinese urban centers rapidly expand.

As I result, I found myself intrigued by this new,  remote section of the Dragon City.  Hua Luogeng Park, I found, is the most ideal place to start when venturing into Jintan for the first time. Why? It’s the closest to the district’s long-distance bus terminal.  And by the way, it costs 15 RMB for an express bus to this part of Changzhou. The trip from and to the downtown station takes a little over one hour.  The park is also part of the city center. A visitor could easily take a

walk here before and/or after doing other things. But convenience is not the only reason to come here.

The park is named after Jintan’s most famous son, Hua Lougeng. He was a world-renowned mathematician. Amazingly enough, he had no formal training. All of his contributions to number theory and more resulted from years of dedicated study and self-teaching. He was never actually a university student; he was just a man with a passion for numbers. There is a prominent statue of him here seated and holding a cup. The American in me assumes the beverage is coffee, but this is China. It’s more than likely tea.