Many pastimes of great antiquity, such as chess, have so developed and
changed down the centuries that their original inventors would scarcely
recognize them. This is not the case with Tangrams, a recreation that
appears to be at least four thousand years old, that has apparently
never been dormant, and that has not been altered or "improved upon"
since the legendary Chinaman Tan first cut out the seven pieces shown in
Diagram I. If you mark the point B, midway between A and C, on one side
of a square of any size, and D, midway between C and E, on an adjoining
side, the direction of the cuts is too obvious to need further
explanation. Every design in this article is built up from the seven
pieces of blackened cardboard. It will at once be understood that the
possible combinations are infinite.
[Illustration]
The late Mr. Sam Loyd, of New York, who published a small book of very
ingenious designs, possessed the manuscripts of the late Mr. Challenor,
who made a long and close study of Tangrams. This gentleman, it is said,
records that there were originally seven books of Tangrams, compiled in
China two thousand years before the Christian era. These books are so
rare that, after forty years' residence in the country, he only
succeeded in seeing perfect copies of the first and seventh volumes with
fragments of the second. Portions of one of the books, printed in gold
leaf upon parchment, were found in Peking by an English soldier and sold
for three hundred pounds.
A few years ago a little book came into my possession, from the library
of the late Lewis Carroll, entitled _The Fashionable Chinese Puzzle_. It
contains three hundred and twenty-three Tangram designs, mostly
nondescript geometrical figures, to be constructed from the seven
pieces. It was "Published by J. and E. Wallis, 42 Skinner Street, and J.
Wallis, Jun., Marine Library, Sidmouth" (South Devon). There is no date,
but the following note fixes the time of publication pretty closely:
"This ingenious contrivance has for some time past been the favourite
amusement of the ex-Emperor Napoleon, who, being now in a debilitated
state and living very retired, passes many hours a day in thus
exercising his patience and ingenuity." The reader will find, as did the
great exile, that much amusement, not wholly uninstructive, may be
derived from forming the designs of others. He will find many of the
illustrations to this article quite easy to build up, and some rather
difficult. Every picture may thus be regarded as a puzzle.
But it is another pastime altogether to create new and original designs
of a pictorial character, and it is surprising what extraordinary scope
the Tangrams afford for producing pictures of real life--angular and
often grotesque, it is true, but full of character. I give an example of
a recumbent figure (2) that is particularly graceful, and only needs
some slight reduction of its angularities to produce an entirely
satisfactory outline.
As I have referred to the author of _Alice in Wonderland_, I give also
my designs of the March Hare (3) and the Hatter (4). I also give an
attempt at Napoleon (5), and a very excellent Red Indian with his Squaw
by Mr. Loyd (6 and 7). A large number of other designs will be found in
an article by me in _The Strand Magazine_ for November, 1908.
[Illustration: 2]
[Illustration: 3]
[Illustration: 4]
On the appearance of this magazine article, the late Sir James Murray,
the eminent philologist, tried, with that amazing industry that
characterized all his work, to trace the word "tangram" to its source.
At length he wrote as follows:--"One of my sons is a professor in the
Anglo-Chinese college at Tientsin. Through him, his colleagues, and his
students, I was able to make inquiries as to the alleged Tan among
Chinese scholars. Our Chinese professor here (Oxford) also took an
interest in the matter and obtained information from the secretary of
the Chinese Legation in London, who is a very eminent representative of
the Chinese literati."
[Illustration: 5]
"The result has been to show that the man Tan, the god Tan, and the
'Book of Tan' are entirely unknown to Chinese literature, history, or
tradition. By most of the learned men the name, or allegation of the
existence, of these had never been heard of. The puzzle is, of course,
well known. It is called in Chinese _ch'i ch'iao t'u_; literally,
'seven-ingenious-plan' or 'ingenious-puzzle figure of seven pieces.' No
name approaching 'tangram,' or even 'tan,' occurs in Chinese, and the
only suggestions for the latter were the Chinese _t'an_, 'to extend'; or
_t'ang_, Cantonese dialect for 'Chinese.' It was suggested that probably
some American or Englishman who knew a little Chinese or Cantonese,
wanting a name for the puzzle, might concoct one out of one of these
words and the European ending 'gram.' I should say the name 'tangram'
was probably invented by an American some little time before 1864 and
after 1847, but I cannot find it in print before the 1864 edition of
Webster. I have therefore had to deal very shortly with the word in the
dictionary, telling what it is applied to and what conjectures or
guesses have been made at the name, and giving a few quotations, one
from your own article, which has enabled me to make more of the subject
than I could otherwise have done."
[Illustration: 6]
[Illustration: 7]
Several correspondents have informed me that they possess, or had
possessed, specimens of the old Chinese books. An American gentleman
writes to me as follows:--"I have in my possession a book made of tissue
paper, printed in black (with a Chinese inscription on the front page),
containing over three hundred designs, which belongs to the box of
'tangrams,' which I also own. The blocks are seven in number, made of
mother-of-pearl, highly polished and finely engraved on either side.
These are contained in a rosewood box 2+1/8 in. square. My great uncle,
----, was one of the first missionaries to visit China. This box and
book, along with quite a collection of other relics, were sent to my
grandfather and descended to myself."
My correspondent kindly supplied me with rubbings of the Tangrams, from
which it is clear that they are cut in the exact proportions that I have
indicated. I reproduce the Chinese inscription (8) for this reason. The
owner of the book informs me that he has submitted it to a number of
Chinamen in the United States and offered as much as a dollar for a
translation. But they all steadfastly refused to read the words,
offering the lame excuse that the inscription is Japanese. Natives of
Japan, however, insist that it is Chinese. Is there something occult and
esoteric about Tangrams, that it is so difficult to lift the veil?
Perhaps this page will come under the eye of some reader acquainted with
the Chinese language, who will supply the required translation, which
may, or may not, throw a little light on this curious question.
[Illustration: 8]
By using several sets of Tangrams at the same time we may construct more
ambitious pictures. I was advised by a friend not to send my picture, "A
Game of Billiards" (9), to the Academy. He assured me that it would not
be accepted because the "judges are so hide-bound by convention."
Perhaps he was right, and it will be more appreciated by
Post-impressionists and Cubists. The players are considering a very
delicate stroke at the top of the table. Of course, the two men, the
table, and the clock are formed from four sets of Tangrams. My second
picture is named "The Orchestra" (10), and it was designed for the
decoration of a large hall of music. Here we have the conductor, the
pianist, the fat little cornet-player, the left-handed player of the
double-bass, whose attitude is life-like, though he does stand at an
unusual distance from his instrument, and the drummer-boy, with his
imposing music-stand. The dog at the back of the pianoforte is not
howling: he is an appreciative listener.
[Illustration: 9]
[Illustration: 10]
One remarkable thing about these Tangram pictures is that they suggest
to the imagination such a lot that is not really there. Who, for
example, can look for a few minutes at Lady Belinda (11) and the Dutch
girl (12) without soon feeling the haughty expression in the one case
and the arch look in the other? Then look again at the stork (13), and
see how it is suggested to the mind that the leg is actually much more
slender than any one of the pieces employed. It is really an optical
illusion. Again, notice in the case of the yacht (14) how, by leaving
that little angular point at the top, a complete mast is suggested. If
you place your Tangrams together on white paper so that they do not
quite touch one another, in some cases the effect is improved by the
white lines; in other cases it is almost destroyed.
[Illustration: 11]
[Illustration: 12]
Finally, I give an example from the many curious paradoxes that one
happens upon in manipulating Tangrams. I show designs of two dignified
individuals (15 and 16) who appear to be exactly alike, except for the
fact that one has a foot and the other has not. Now, both of these
figures are made from the same seven Tangrams. Where does the second man
get his foot from?
[Illustration: 13]
[Illustration: 14]
[Illustration: 15]
[Illustration: 16]