A Child’s Dilemma in 9th-Century Luoyang

In the fifth year of the Taihe era (831 AD), ten-year-old Li Tang faced a crisis familiar to students across the ages—an unprepared lesson under paternal scrutiny. As the eldest son in a prominent Tang household, his father’s confiscated textbook and stern demand for recitation prompted desperate tactics. First, the formal “Daren” (大人), then the intimate “Aye” (阿耶)—a calculated shift in address that ultimately softened paternal resolve. This seemingly trivial domestic scene reveals a sophisticated linguistic tapestry of familial hierarchy in Tang China, where every title carried centuries of cultural weight.

The Evolution of “Daren”: From Han Honorifics to Tang Parental Address

The term “Daren” traces its lineage to Han Dynasty records like the Book of Han, where it broadly honored elders and dignitaries. By the Tang era, it had crystallized as a formal term for parents—yet retained flexibility. When scholar Liu Zongyuan petitioned to exchange his exile location with friend Liu Yuxi to spare the latter’s aging mother, his memorial referred to her as “his Daren,” illustrating maternal usage. Notably, this title never extended to colleagues; addressing a minister as “Daren” would imply an absurd familial claim—akin to calling a coworker “Dad.” Officials instead used bureaucratic titles like “Du Gongbu” (杜甫’s post) or the generic “Langjun” (郎君) for peers.

Intimacy and Hierarchy: The Domestic Lexicon

Within household walls, “Aye” and “Yeye” (耶耶) dominated fatherly address, echoing Du Fu’s Ballad of the Army Carts: “Fathers, mothers, wives and children run to see them off.” These terms applied broadly to paternal uncles too—hence Li Tang’s greeting to his uncle as “Da Aye” (大伯). The Tang legal codes (Tang Lü Shuyi) reinforced such linguistic unity by mandating multi-generational cohabitation; families like the legendary nine-generation Zhang clan became social ideals. Birth order markers (“Eighth Brother” for Li Tang) wove individual identity into collective kinship, though girls’ rankings—like the seven-year-old “Da Niang” (大娘)—operated on separate tracks, proving that “elder sister” might be younger than junior brothers.

Gender and Status: The Nuances of Address

Women’s titles reflected Tang’s relative openness. “A’weng” (阿翁) and “A’po” (阿婆) denoted grandparents, while “Lang” (郎) served as a flirtatious or spousal term for men—immortalized in Li Bai’s “bamboo horse” romance verse. Notably, “Xianggong” (相公) exclusively referenced chancellors, never husbands. The essay humorously warns time-travelers: calling a handsome passerby “little brother” (哥哥) might accidentally claim him as father, given Tang children’s occasional use of “gege” for paternal address—a tradition persisting into Yuan drama dialogues.

Legacy in Language: Echoes Across Millennia

These Tang conventions left enduring marks. Japanese preserves “musume” (娘 for daughter) and “-rou” (郎 for males), while Chinese dialects still use “Da” for father. The essay’s closing vignette—Li Tang correcting his brother’s overly formal “nüxiong” (女兄) for “elder sister”—highlights how linguistic choices reinforced familial warmth against rigid hierarchies. In the Tang worldview, every title was a thread in the fabric of “jia ren” (家人), the collective identity that bound sprawling households into cohesive units. From Du Fu’s poetry to modern Shanghainese’s “nong aye,” the Tang dynasty’s kinship lexicon remains embedded in East Asian cultural DNA.