Reflection
I began this project with a question that stayed with me after reading the play English for my set design class: what happens to emotional truth when a person is forced to speak in a language that is not their own? The play shows that language is not just a tool for communication. It can reshape identity, flatten feelings, and create emotional distance. This idea connected strongly to my own experience moving between Chinese and English, especially in moments when a translation looks correct on the surface but feels emotionally stiff, as if something personal experience has been removed from the sentence.
I chose part of Wang Xizhi’s Lantingji Xu for the main text because it is a classical Chinese prose text written in ancient language, where meaning depends not only on vocabulary but also on rhythm, implication, and cultural memory. Another important reason is that Wang Xizhi was both a writer and a calligrapher, which means the text exists as language and as visual form at the same time. This made Lantingji Xu especially suitable for my project, which combines text, image, and translation. More importantly, Lantingji Xu allows me to use exaggerated English translation to show the limits of translation clearly. The text relies heavily on emotional atmosphere and indirect expression, which are difficult to carry over into English. By applying rigid and exaggerated English labels to such a subtle text, I can create a strong contrast and make the loss caused by translation visible rather than abstract.
On the surface, Lantingji Xu describes a joyful spring gathering among friends. However, at the height of happiness, Wang Xizhi becomes aware of how quickly time passes and how easily meaningful moments turn into memory. He is not rejecting joy, but reminding the reader that because life is short, the present moment deserves care. When the text is translated only literally into English, this emotional shift is often weakened, leaving behind a pleasant description without the deeper sense of loss. And this loss becomes clear in specific phrases, for example, I exaggerate this problem by using blunt English labels such as Columnar Plants for “茂林修竹” and Skeleton for “形骸.” In Chinese, “茂林修竹” evokes a living landscape filled with movement and quiet vitality, not just plants. “形骸” refers to the fragile human body and carries a reflective tone, rather than literally meaning bones. Translating them in this rigid way is intentional. It makes the language feel cold and uncomfortable, allowing viewers to sense what has been lost.
Visually, I treat the Chinese text as a living body and build the collage around it. English dictionary-style fragments represent surface meaning and clarity, while surgical tools and scar-like marks frame translation as a form of operation. This operation does not completely destroy the body. Instead, it keeps the structure intact while replacing certain parts. Like organs taken from another body, the translated elements may function and allow the body to survive, but they never fully belong. There is always a sense of distance and discomfort. Meaning remains present and understandable, yet the warmth, intimacy, and familiarity of the original experience are quietly altered.
Because this project uses existing materials, the question of plagiarism is central to my reflection. I do not consider this work to be plagiarism because I do not copy the sources in order to pass them off as my own writing, and I do not use them for their original purpose. Lantingji Xu was originally written as a reflection on time and living in the present. In my project, it becomes material for a different question: what gets lost when emotional meaning is carried from Chinese into English. The English labels I use are intentionally unsuccessful as translations. They are not meant to replace the original text, but to expose what a direct translation cannot hold.
I also take citations seriously. I provide a separate key that lists the resources I used and gives proper citation. This makes it clear what is borrowed and what is my own interpretation. The originality of my project is not in inventing new source material, but in how I combine, exaggerate, and transform existing material to create a new argument about translation, emotion, and cultural loss.