_June 17, 1902._[1]
I read in the paper that some Chinese girls had asked permission to
stand the teachers' examinations. Hurrah for progress! I feel like
shouting aloud in my joy. Of what good is the preservation of a few old
traditions? We see now that the strongest and oldest traditions can be
broken; and that gives me courage and hope. I should like to meet the
gallant little Chinese girls; I should be so glad to know something of
their thoughts and feelings, their "soul."
I have always longed to have a Chinese girl for a friend. I have often
wondered about the inner life of such a girl. It must certainly be full
of poetry.
At Semarang, a Chinese[2] millionaire has laid out a splendid garden. It
lies on a hill and is so beautiful; there are rocks, grottos and tiny
hills covered with green ferns. Masses of flowers and miniature fruit
trees are interspersed with little parks and winding paths.
There is a lovely summer-house in the middle of the lake. The lake has
many capes and twisted turns. And in it, goeromis and gold fish can be
seen swimming around. On the shore, is a hill with a grotto, and a bath
house. A winding stair runs through the grotto and comes out on top of
the hill, where two miniature temples stand. Fruit trees and flowers of
all kinds grow and bloom everywhere; it is fairy-land become reality,
only the fairy kings and queens and the silver shining little elves do
not come out of the chasms in the rocks to make the illusion complete.
The whole idea is like a poem expressed in art. But where is the art
that is not poetry? Everything that is good, that is high, that is holy,
in a word everything that is beautiful in life is poetry!
We have seen the creator of this wonder place. A deadly dull,
commonplace sjofele baba.[3] Images in plaster, human dragons, and
tigers are scattered among the grass; these too are the creations of his
fancy.
It is a pity that at the entrance of the walk that leads to the fairy
lake, two figures of European workmanship have been placed; they destroy
the harmony.
You have been to Batavia to see the exhibition?[4] Yes, to be sure, and
what do you say now of the brown race? What of its art?
Oh I am so proud of my people, they are capable of so much, but you
Hollanders must lead us. And you will do that will you not? We are like
children, and you are our protectors, who must guide us and help us to
be grown up men and women.
[1] To Mevrouw de Booij-Boissevain.
[2] In 1898, four years before this letter was written, there were
261.000 Chinese settlers in Java. Their constantly increasing number
presents a problem to the Dutch Government. They are seldom day
labourers but more frequently artisans, merchants or agriculturists and
by their frugality and industry have attained a condition of general
prosperity, in all competition easily outstripping the more indolent
Javanese, and often accumulating large fortunes.
[3] Sjofele, ragged or dirty; baba, a Chinese coolie. Sjofele baba
indicates a good-natured contempt.
[4] Exposition of Javanese art held at Batavia in that year.