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TEA CONNOISSEURS
This particular section of the General Index may amuse the
reader but in sharp contrast to that amusement is the fact that
these incidents have been taken from real life.
In 1929, Tsao Hsiieh-chin and Kao Ngoh
published a book entitled The Dream of the Red Chamber, a
curious novel (to say the least) about Chinese life and what it
means to be a REAL CONNOISSEUR of tea. The book was
written in English and, if you can find it, well worth reading.
In the book a nun is offering tea to two guests; one is named
Black Jade and the other Precious Virtue. I quote from the book
published by Doubleday, Doran & Co., New York, 1929:
The matriarch asked her what water it was, and the nun
answered that it was rainwater saved from the year
before;...The nun then took Black Jade and Precious
Virtue into another room to make some special tea for
them. She poured the tea into two cups of different
patterns, of the rare Sung period. Her own cup was of
white jade. Is this also last years
rainwater? Black Jade asked. I did not think
you were so ignorant, the nun said, as if insulted.
Can't you tell the difference? This water is from
the snow that I collected from the plum trees five years
ago in the Yuan Mu Hsiang Temple. It filled that blue jar
there...All this time it was buried under the earth and
was opened only this last summer. How could you expect
rainwater to possess such lightness and clarity?
George Gissing, 1857-1903, declared in his book, The
Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft, Nowhere is the
English genius of domesticity more notably evidenced than in the
festival of afternoon tea. He went on to say:
One of the shining moments of my day is that when,
having returned a little weary from an afternoon walk, I
exchange boots for slippers, out-of-doors coat for easy,
familiar, shabby jacket, and, in my deep, soft-elbowed
chair, await the tea-tray...Now, how delicious is the
soft yet penetrating odor which floats into my study,
with the appearance of the teapot! What solace in the
first cup, what deliberate sipping of that which follows!
What a glow does it bring after a walk in chilly rain!
The while I look around at my books and pictures, tasting
the happiness of their tranquil possession. I cast an eye
towards my pipe; perhaps I prepare it, with seeming
thoughtfulness, for the reception of tobacco. And never,
surely, is tobacco more soothing, more suggestive of
humane thoughts, than when it comes just after
tea--itself a bland inspirer...I care nothing for your
five o'clock tea of modish drawing rooms, idle and
wearisome like all else in which the world has part; I
speak of tea where one is at home in quite another than
the worldly sense. To admit mere strangers to your tea
table is profanation; on the other hand, English
hospitality has here its kindliest aspect; never is
friend more welcome than when he drops in for a cup of
tea.
The above is probably a purely masculine view of the subject
of tea. May Sinclair, an English novelist and poet in days long
gone, writes this very visual painting of an afternoon tea
service in her book A Cure of Souls. The location of this
scene is an English country town where all social life is
centered about the parish church, the rectory, and the bachelor
rector, a Rev. Mr. Canon Chamberlain. The Rev. is making a house
call on Mrs. Beauchamp, a wealthy and attractive widow, who has
just recently moved into the parish. I quote:
At that moment the parlor-maid came in, bringing the tea
things. There was a flutter of snow-white linen and the
pleasant tinkle of china and of silver, and a smell of
hot butter. He rose. Oh! Dont go just as
teas coming in. Please stay and have some.
...It was delicious, sitting there in the deep,
soft-cushioned chair, eating hot-buttered scones,
drinking China tea with the smoky flavor
(Lapsang-Souchong) that he loved, and watching the plump,
but dainty hands hovering about the teacups and the
dishes. Mrs. Beauchamp enjoyed teatime and was determined
that he should enjoy it too. The teacups---he noticed
such things---were wide and shallow and had a pattern of
light green and gold on white, with a broad green and
gold band inside, under the brim. His nostrils drank in
the fragrance. I wonder why it is, he said,
that a green lining to a cup makes tea so much more
delicious. But it does. I know it does,
she said with feeling. Theres a house where
they give you strong Indian tea in dark-blue china. You
cant imagine anything more horrible. It
would be. And all teacups should be wide and
shallow. Yes, its like champagne in
wide glasses, isnt it? A larger surface
for the scent, I suppose. Funny that there
should be light green tastes and dark blue tastes, but
there are. Only, I didn't think anybody noticed it but
me. Delightful community of sense. And, like
himself, she felt that these things were serious.
All aspects of tea, from the purchase to the preparation, are
serious if one is to experience serious appreciation of it. Tea
will give back to you exactly what you give to it (no more, no
less).
The Tea Man
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"The Tea Man"
May not be reproduced in whole or in part without written consent
of: "The Tea Man"
Copyright © February 1996