episode 6. 献一株桔梗予溺水的鬼 by 江流
[artwork by Plastic_Tree from Taiwan physical volume via 台灣威向, 威向文化]
献一株桔梗予溺水的鬼 / Offering a Bouquet of Bellflowers to the Ghost of a Drowned Man / Platycodon and Ghost by 江流
34 chapters + 1 extra (3 parts)
Published on 长佩文学 from 2017-2019
✦ — GENRE(S)
Danmei, slice of life, modern
✦ — SUMMARY
After the suicide of a beloved writer, Wang Ze, a university student and forest ranger cross paths. Together, they face the complexities of mental health and what is worth staying alive for.
✦ — WARNINGS
Depression, suicide/attempted suicide, suicide ideation, child abuse (physical and sexual), torture, drugging, incest
✦ — LINKS
Read the raws for free on Changpei.
There’s no official English translation. A fan translation is available courtesy of chaikat, whom I want to express my deep gratitude for approaching the topics of depression and suicide with sensitivity.
RATING: S
Spoilers ahead. See under the cut for a (very) in-depth discussion of the text!
There are some stories you pick up, knowing you'll be torn asunder by the end. This raw and meaningful novel is on that list. Offering a Bouquet of Bellflowers to the Ghost of a Drowned Man is one of the most thorough and accurate depictions of depression and suicide that I read to date, an impressive feat for only 35 chapters.
I rarely read written works with sections like this, but I liked how fragmented and refreshing it felt. The frequent breaks act as speed bumps for the reader to proceed at an appropriate pace. Without this structure, I would’ve breezed through the story as I tend to do. This short novel has much to say, so please take your time!
The honest weight of the text is equally devastating as it is comforting. Although depression is widespread, there are endless misconceptions about it. Depression is indiscriminate, affecting anyone regardless of age, class, gender, etc. Even if someone appears fine, can create art that inspires others, or is successful and wealthy, their condition should be taken seriously. Just because it’s a common, treatable disorder doesn’t mean it’s less destructive or life-threatening than other health issues.
The story acknowledges that depression manifests differently for everyone and highlights some “socially unacceptable” symptoms. Dropping out of school, harboring “unproductive” interests, damaging relationships, forgetting to eat, not cleaning your own space, and struggling with basic hygiene are not the result of laziness or intentional neglect. This is a disorder for a reason. It’s debilitating. And it can reach a severity where someone ends their own life.
Society insists that suicide is “selfish” and “cowardly.” I love how Bellflowers fights the stigma by treating this subject with tenderness and complexity. Suicide is a tragedy, as all deaths are. It shouldn't be a damning crime. Regardless of personal opinion, holding compassion toward those who passed is crucial. They deserve to be treated with warmth, understanding, and dignity—even in death—rather than scorn and shame.
A pang of guilt accompanies the grief after a loved one dies by suicide. Such a loss may trigger suicidal thoughts, completely numb the pain, or remain dormant in an emotional vacuum until much later. Yet the questions of “What more could I have done? What could I have done better to prevent this?” haunt everyone the same.
Living with the gut-wrenching remorse may be inevitable, but self-forgiveness prevents it from paralyzing you into hopelessness. The forest ranger walked a path that would only lead his grief and guilt to snowball out of control, but after meeting Wang Ze, his mindset shifts to uplifting others where and when he can. The harshest truth is that there’s only so much you can do. The line between stopping someone from dying and finding a reason to live can actually be a wide gap. The forest ranger's growth in this regard touched me deeply because this is not implying that a person isn’t worth saving after a certain point. Sometimes we did the best we could at the time. Sometimes it wasn't enough. I admired his declaration that even if he couldn't do more, that would be ok too. Acknowledging this without letting it consume you whole is the real challenge.
One person may not be able to save everyone, but it’s possible to help someone remain afloat. Love goes so, so far. It can’t magically “fix” the broken pieces. It certainly won’t “cure” depression and suicidal ideation. Still, genuine human connection eases the pain of living. A support system can convince someone that waking up to another day is possible because there’s a salvation in knowing someone and letting yourself be known. As Tim Kreider puts it in “I Know What You Think of Me,” “if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”
Being so vulnerable is terrifying, especially for those with dark traumas who are used to hiding behind a façade for self-protection. My heart was in tatters seeing the writer, who desperately wanted to be loved for who he was, attempt to make himself visible. The original draft of his final novel was an effort to bare his soul and a silent plea for acceptance. That desire to share your truth paired with the overwhelming fear that a trusted person will turn you away reminded me of the following lines from “The Torn-Up Road” (2000) by Richard Siken:
I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything,
without having to say that I ran out into the street to prove something,
that he didn't love me,
that I wanted to be possessed, thrown over, that I wanted to have the wounds nailed shut.
Hesitant to directly reveal his past, the writer puts it in novel form along with the hope that his editor will say this life can still have a happy ending. An uneasy rejection sends the writer over the edge, and we never learn his name. Till the end, no one truly knew him.
In contrast, Wang Ze and the forest ranger reveal the ugliest parts of themselves and grow closer. As they see the other’s strengths and gentle heart, I couldn’t help but think, “What a relief it would be if you saw yourself through the eyes of a person who understood you.” Even for a split second, you can wonder, “Maybe I’m not as terrible as I thought.” Loving yourself and believing you have a future worth seeing aren't affirmations that can be internalized overnight. But if someone is by your side, loving even “this” version of you… perhaps everything isn’t as daunting.
Part of the novel’s charm is that 江流 doesn’t try to solve questions that carry too much nuance to have an answer or make uncertain promises. These snippets from “I am not always very attached to being alive” by Anna Borges put it better than I can:
But speaking freely need not solely carry the weight of prevention. It can simply be about the comfort of social connectedness and knowing you’re not alone. Like Beeson told me, the big picture is not as much about preventing suicide as it is about planning life and fostering social connectedness — which, in and of themselves, are major preventative factors.
Perhaps what I’m looking for isn’t land at all, but other people out here with me. Trying, and treading, and learning to live in the water.
We simply sit with a gentle reminder of some axioms: Living is hard, but you are important. Your struggles and pain are valid. You are worthy of love and acceptance. You are not alone. It is so good to have you here. I hope you continue to stay.
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