Formality and Pleasure in Jian’an Banquet Poetry
Chinese and Comparative
Literature
Washington University
St. Louis, MO
1. Introduction
The Jian’an period (196-220 C.E.) is the
first point in Chinese history that it is possible to study extensive and
detailed textual representations of the convivial life of ruling elite and
their attendant literati. The Han
(Former 202 B.C.-9 A.D. and Latter 25-220 C.E.), leaves only scattered
historical sources and rhapsodies (fu) that sporadically describe
festive gatherings.[1] In addition to contemporaneous poetry (shi),
songs (yuefu), rhapsodies, and letters (shu) that recall or
document social gatherings, later Six Dynasties writers captured the spirit of
Jian’an banquet poetry in its specific setting by producing imitative works.[2] All of these materials may be pieced
together to form a rough mosaic that reveals many of the important and complex
aspects of the Jian’an banquet environment.
This chapter will explore several different textual representations of
Jian’an poets experiencing the formality and pleasure of the banquet
scene; focussing on the manner by
which the Cao clan
and the Seven Masters of the Jian’an
period simultaneously negotiated and transformed their social
and physical environment while they gathered to compose poems, drink and
feast. As we shall see, both the
inherited and newly invented shape of their leisure space conditioned the
poets’ expression of both sober and convivial sentiments.[3]
Though
not the first age to witness convivial gatherings in a clearly defined pleasure
space, the Jian’an period is unique in the number of recorded occasions when
literati and rulers gathered to enjoy the company of like-minded gentlemen.[1] Cao Pi in a letter to his friend Wu Zhi
stated with wistful joy:
“In days past if we went
roaming, we went with our carriages one after the other; if we stayed in, we sat on mats placed
together. We would not be separated for
an instant. Whenever the wine goblets and ladles were moving freely and the
strings and woods played together,
we felt tipsy from the wine and warm about the ears and, lifting our heads, composed poems.”[4]
These words give us a small
glimpse of an image of conviviality that was characteristic of the literati who
gathered at Cao Cao’s capital city of Ye.[5] The greater context, however, allows us to
see that these times were gone forever for Cao Pi, who writing ten or more
years later mourned the death of many of those parties’ guests.
The
surviving body of poetry that Cao Pi alludes to in the above passage is rich
with varying contours. However, from
the perspective of literary histories, the banquet scenes are not the most
celebrated aspects of the period. I
will begin this portion of the chapter with a study of how commentaries such as
the Poems Systematicaly Graded (Shipin, ca. 513-517) and The
Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons (Wenxin diaolong, ca.
late 5th century) shape our perceptions of the Jian’an historical image by
using specific yet opaque literary terms such as kang kai, and feng
gu to describe the literary style of the age. Because of these terms, the poetry of the
Jian’an period is most often interpreted systematically as being heroic,
straightforward and impassioned.
Consequently, this leads to certain types of Jian’an poems being more
highly valued than others.[6] By reading less well-read works such as the
banquet poems, we can further explore the literary richness of the period and
test the usefulness of standard critical vocabulary.[7]
At
the banquet scene, literati gathered to enjoy themselves, to indulge in wine
and food, yet because of inherited customs of decorus behavior as well as the
reality of a precarious political environment, their conviviality has
restrained and ironic tendencies. Both
the leaders and their attendant literati gentlemen betray this uneasiness in
their writings. The traditional
literary terms kang kai and feng gu preserve many aspects of
these ironic circumstances, yet when the texts are viewed through the terms
decorum (li) and pleasure (le) contradictions appear more
clearly. Instead of employing literary
terms concerned with aesthetics that may imply certain social values, I will
instead attempt to guage the social setting where poetry was composed in a more
direct fashion. At the center of the
chapter, I will employ these terms to consider several poetic postures that
reveal how the leaders of the community, Cao Cao (155-220), and later his son
Cao Pi (187-226), expressed their struggles with the responsibility of ruling
while simultaneously enjoying the fruits of their labors.
In
the final section of the chapter, I will explore various textual descriptions
of the physical environments in which
the poets distracted themselves. By
separating Jian’an banquet poems into two categories - interior and exterior -
it is possible to begin to witness how inner and outer spaces effect the
production of poetry. Poetry produced
indoors or in clearly defined, enclosed spaces often is more concerned with aspects
of ritual and decorum (li) that relate to social hierarchies, whereas
poetry produce out of doors is more likely to express an unrestrained sensation
of pleasure (le). It is in these
spatial contexts that both the language and social behavior of the Jian’an
poets can be more fully appreciated and understood. Moreover, the textual representations of leisure space initiate a
new vocabulary in the creation of
fictional settings for revelry to be imitated later in the literary
tradition.
2. The Historical Image of the Jian’an Literary
Coterie
One
of the ways that the literary environment of the Jian’an period differs from
the Han dynasty is in the motivation and function of a performed song or
textual work. The poets that the Han
emperors gathered around themselves such as Mei Sheng (d. 141 B.C.E.) and Sima
Xiangru (179-117 B.C.E.) were properly rhapsodists who extolled the virtues of
the ruling dynasty and the grandness of its scenic capital parks. Their fu can also be described as
examples of moral persuasion or verse of an epideictic character. These poets composed poetry in a charged
public atmosphere at the behest of the emperor. This compositional environment was not conducive to the utterance
of personal political plaints nor was it the appropriate place to initiate a
dialogue in poetry with fellow literati.[8] During the Jian’an period this compositional
environment changed with the appearance of Cao Cao and his literary coterie
known as the Seven Masters of the Jian’an period. This shift in part was due to Cao Cao’s modification of the expectations a ruler had when evaluating
talent both literary and martial.
Instead of using virtue (de) as an instrument of evaluating
worth, Cao Cao looked to how a man could be useful in his service to the
kingdom and to the king.[9] “My several men! Assist me in bringing to light and raising up the the unorthodox
and the lowly. As long as a man be
talented he is to be recommended. Upon
gaining him, I shall put him to use.”[10] Chi-yun Chen in his study of the late Han
period indicates that with the decline of the centralized empire, political and
ideological control was relaxed.[11] Cao’s edict is an example of how far this
trend had developed by the year 210.
Cao Cao also was aware of the power a leader possessed when he had at
his command a group of talented men of letters who could be his advisors and
literary companions. Just as the Han
emperors had rhapsodists, Cao Cao too could bring a more refined visage to his
court by having the means by which he could produce textual culture. In this atmosphere, the dynamic between the
ruler and the literati transformed to allow for greater literary freedom. This development also corresponded to the
rising respectability of literature as a valid vehicle for self-expression as
opposed to commentary on the classics that was exhaustively produced during the
Han dynasty.[12] Cao Pi in his Discourse on Literature (Dianlun
lun wen) stated:
“I
would say that literary works (wen-chang) are the supreme achievement in
the business of state, a splendor that
does not decay. A time will come when a
person’s life ends; glory and pleasure go
no further than this body. To carry
both to eternity, there is nothing to compare
with the unending permanence of the literary work.”[13]
Possibly for the first time
in Chinese literary history we have textual representations of poets that were
able to communicate their innermost thoughts to their immediate peers and
superiors while remaining in close proximity and often addressing imperial
authority.[14] In the Jian’an period not only is there
ample amount of extant biographical sources that describe this new trend in
literary relationships, we can furthermore corroborate literary and political
dialogues by reading surviving documents.
Most importantly, personal exchanges of a political nature were made
between poets within their poems. This
practice establishes a new conception of what was deemed appropriate or
decorous in social gatherings. Because
of these conditions, literary historians have referred to the Jian’an period as
an occasion of watershed change in the development of literary coteries or wenren
jituan.[15]
It
is at this point that we can also see a stage in the process of generic change in
poetry that took place among the literati class. While rhapsodies continued to be composed, the five character
poem (wu yan shi) became a popular mode of poetic expression
during the Jian’an period. More than
half of the poems by Jian’an writers were composed in pentasyllabic-line verse.[16] This change started long before the Jian’an
period, but it is with writers like Cao Zhi that the pentasyllabic-line poem
came to be a common mode of expression for the literati.[17] A convincing argument has been made for the
case that the five character line allowed for more specific description of
subjective feelings.[18] This reasoning combined with the new
political ideals espoused by Cao Cao most likely facilitated the advent of the
Jian’an style of poetic expression.
However, as Christopher Connery has wisely stated, the texts produced in
the social environment of the Jian’an period should not be construed as private
in the Western sense of individual creation.[19] It is the very social nature of the setting
that facilitated the production of these texts which gives them public
currency. However, in the Chinese
context Jian’an poems mark a significant departure from the praise-oriented
rhapsodies of the Han dynasty.
The
aesthetics and linguistic style of literary expression during the Jian’an
period has been lauded throughout the centuries and because of its perceived
simplicity and pureness is often looked to with nostalgia, especially from the
perspective of later Six Dynasties critics. The pervasive comparison of Jian’an poetry to later Six Dynasties works
implies a chronological development in poetry styles from good (Jian’an) to bad
(later Six Dynasties). In the following passage, Liu Xie (c. 455-522), the
author of The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons (Wenxin
diaolong), contrasts the Jian’an period in its use of language with later
Six Dynasties poetry.
“Their
common themes [Jian’an poets] are love for the wind and the moon, excursions to
gardens and parks, royal grace and
favors, drunken revelry and feasts.
Heroic [kang kai} in
giving free play to their vitality, open and artless in the application of
their talents, never resorting to petty
cleverness in the expression of their feelings or in the descriptions of what they saw, and in harnessing language
for their descriptions, aiming simply at lucidity -in all ways they manifest the same spirit.”[20]
The essential comparison in
this passage resides in the evaluation of Jian’an poetry as not “resorting to
petty cleverness” bu qiu xian mi zhi qiao.[21] Liu Xie admires the simplicity and lucidity
of the Jian’an period as opposed to the ornately wrought works of the critic’s
own time. The term kang kai used
in this passage has thereafter been used to characterize the Jian’an period,
which Vincent Shih has translated here as “heroic.” Kang kai is difficult to translate as Robert Joe Cutter
has discussed fully, citing the efforts of Paul Kroll and other scholars.[22] Cutter’s translation as “impassioned” is a
workable rendering; yet also important in the binome is an acute sense of
sadness. It is this balance of heroic
yearning and inherent sadness that has captivated many later critics who
characterize the Jian’an period. The
first sentence of Liu Xie’s remarks, which describes the themes and
descriptions favored by the Jian’an poets, often is neglected when portraying
the spirit of Jian’an poetic works.
Critics more often look to the serious tones of the poetry when
distilling its essence. In his preface
to The Poets Systematically Graded (Shipin), Zhong Rong (c.
465-518) also favors this characterization.
“We
have to wait for the arrival of the Jian’an period (196-220A.D.), in which Cao
Cao and his son Cao Pi developed a
liking for the [shi] genre, with Cao Zhi and his son Cao Biao writing in a formally
disciplined manner and producing the sombrely austere effect. Liu
Zhen and Wang Can were the only supporting writers of these blueblooded
artists, although hundreds of climbers
sought to be members of the prince’s retinue.
Ah, what a train of pomp and
circumstance there was at the time!”[23]
The key phrase in this
passage characterizes Jian’an verse as “formally disciplined manner and
producing the somberly austere effect” yu wei wen dong. Again, Zhong Rong, like Liu Xie, favors the
more direct and disciplined style of the earlier Jian’an period. Both critics are writing about the use of
language and the style of poetry produced in order to evaluate the aesthetics
of the Jian’an period. By
characterizing the period in such a manner, readers are left with the
impression that the best of Jian’an verse is uniformly serious, lucid, heroic
and somber. In comparison to later Six
Dynasties poetry this is cetainly a valid point. However, not all Jian’an verse can be lumped together under this
description. In recent scholarship, Lin
Wenyue comes closest to liberating the Jian’an period from the limitations of
these evaluations. However, the emphasis
of her characterization still lends itself to a familiar reading of the Jian’an
period poets as heroes of a politically troubled age. Quoting the Wenxin diaolong passage above in relation to
banquet poetry, Lin concludes the following:
“This
passage points out that, in addition to the grief of parting and the
aspirations of the mind, social
activities were themes for versification.
However, even in poems on the joys of
life, they were ‘heroic in giving free play to their vitality, open and artless
in the application of their
talents.’ The way they wrote and the
way they lived were consistent, which
distinguishes even the salon poetry of this period from that of later
generations.”[24]
Here, the comparison of Jian’an poetry to later Six Dynasties
literary trends rehearses the same degenerative chronological pattern, this
time in the context of the aesthetic term feng gu or wind and bone. Lin continues to drive this point home by
stating: “In all its celebration of feasts and natural charms, Chien-an poetry
never denegrated into pettiness and triviality. Exposed to stimulating surroundings, the poets broadened their
horizon, but never pursued a passive mannered style, as later poets did.”[25] Employing Chi Yun’s interpretation of Liu
Xie’s idea of feng gu as qi “vigor,” Lin
states: “Vigor marks not only the writings of the period but the individual
poets. The Jian’an literati made clear
in their work that they neither hesitated to declare their ambition nor
abandoned pleasure.”[26] Since the meaning of feng gu is
framed in this comparative structure, we can only be impressed with the vigor
of the Jian’an period. However, reading
poetry through these terms alone blinds us to the possibility of variation in
poetic styles when works from the same period are held up to each other. Kang kai and feng gu despite
the range of their numerous interpretations/translations, mask the richness of
the poetry produced during the Jian’an period.
While I agree with the conclusions reached by Prof. Lin when evaluating
the Jian’an period compared to later poety, and I appreciate her interpretation
of social behavior extracted from specific literary vocabulary, we need to take
a closer look at the particular contours of the Jian’an poetic landscape. Furthermore, a more clearly defined sense of
the kind of social behavior the Jian’an era poets believed to be pleasurable
will enhance our understanding of the banquet scene.
3. Spitting Images in the Environment of
Pleasure
Having
found that the literary terms kang kai and feng gu distill a
particular and enduring image of Jian’an poetry, I will proceed by
demonstrating how historical allusions and natural imagery may be viewed
through the rubric of pleasure and decorum.
The two pervasive terms kang kai and feng gu will not be
completely abandoned, they will in part facilitate the illumination of irony vis
a vis the negotiation of pleasure and ritual decorum in the banquet
scene. Before beginning a discussion of
banquet poetry allusions and selected imagery however, I would like first
toconsider the way allusions function in early Chinese poetry.
James J. Y. Liu’s description of allusions
in Chinese poetry is simple and direct.
There are two kinds of allusions:
general and specific.[27] Specific allusions (on which I will
concentrate here) in Chinese poetry are often plot pointers.[28] That is to say, an allusion is a set of
words or images that are used in order to recall a specific narrative. In most cases, Chinese allusions are textual
(as opposed to topical) and are raised within poetic discourse by a quotation
or reiteration of something a prior historical figure has uttered or acted
out. This is true particularly in the
case of literati and ruling elite who share a knowledge of texts that
constitute a tradition. These
participants are “in the know” so to speak and have commited to memory a range
of authoritative texts that impart cultural norms. As David Lattimore has stated, “In such a group, reading an
allusive poem is something like taking part in a ritual.”[29] Allusions carry on a tradition, and as the
etymology of the modern Chinese word diangu (dian - a rule, a
canon, gu - past) suggests, assist a culture in its effort to maintain
ties to the past. Liu Xie in Wenxin
diaolong stated in reference to allusion:
“To use the words of others as your own, the past must offer you no
opacities.”[30] By using an allusion a poet can demonstrate
his cultural knowledge and as a consequence exercise formidable power by
harnessing textual authority for his own ends.
Chinese allusions are often solemn, yet I agree with Lattimore that the
English etymology of allusion - “to play or sport with any thing, to joke,
jest, to do a thing sportively”[31]
should be kept close at hand especially if a poet is employing a sense of irony
in the recollection of a particular historical event. The tie to the past is paramount, yet often the poet uses the
older narrative to say something about a current situation; in effect renewing
the narrative with his own particular semantic twist. The recycling of allusions in early Chinese poetry seem to appear
in clusters with certain narratives enjoying a frequent retelling. This is the case with the first allusion I
would like to consider in the context of the Jian’an banquet scene.
One
of the most striking images that captures a central irony in Jian’an banquet
poetry is the allusion to the Duke of Zhou spitting out his food. The origin of this narrative may be found within Shiji chapter 33
(lu ZhouGong shijia) that records the activities of Zhou Gong. The context of this scene involves the Duke
of Zhou telling his son Boqin, the Marquis of Lu, that at that very moment
there were about ten men he would like to have as teachers, about thirty he would
like to have as friends, about a hundred he would like to talk to at leisure,
and some one thousand subordinates who would have to make reports to him from
time to time. He confessed to his son
about not wanting to miss any opportunity to hear from those who came to see
him, “So I wring my hair thrice with
each wash, spit thrice with each meal, and get up to wait on the gentlemen,
since I fear losing the trust of the worthies of the land.”[32] The central theme to this story is the Duke
of Zhou’s self-sacrifice for the sake of his duty to serve the populace with
benevolence and responsibility. When
viewed in terms of moral decorum or li, Zhou Gong in this instance has
acted fittingly and properly for the good of all concerned. Zhou Gong’s exemplary decorous behavior is
later abbreviated in poetic form to the single image of his spitting out of
food. With this historical allusion in
mind, Cao Cao’s poem “Brief Song” is an appropriate place to begin an
observation of how Jian’an poets handled the paired activities of consuming and
expectorating in order to express attitudes toward duty.
Brief Song
Over wine let one sing,
For a man’s life lasts how
long?
Its like would be the morning
dew,
And the days that have passed
are bitter enough.
Forlorn, let one avail of
fortitude,
Anxious longings are hard to
forget.
What can be used to dissolve
sorrow?
There is only Tu K’ang.
Bluest blue your collar,
Distantly wistful is my
heart.
Only for the sake of you
milord,
Am I sunk till now in
musings.
Yu, Yu, cry the deer,
Eating artemesia of the wild.
I have an excellent guest!
Pluck the zither and blow the
syrinx!
Brightest bright as is the
moon --
What season may it be
culled?
Anxiety comes from the inside
one,
Not to be severed or cut
short.
Passing over, traversing, the
criss-cross paths,
In vain I inquired for you.
In toil and travail, or
chatting and feasting,
The heart recalls old
courtesies.
The moon is luminous and
stars are faint,
Raven and magpie southward
fly.
Circling a tree, three times
rounding --
Which bough are they to light
on?
Hills are not troubled by
height,
Seas are untroubled by the
deep.
The Duke of Chou spat out his
mouthful of food --
The realm under Heaven turned
toward him its heart.[33]
This
poem, perhaps the most famous from Cao Cao’s collected works, contains several
quotations of earlier texts such as the Shijing and presents a
compelling portrayal of a ruler celebrating the moment, yet aware of the
political and historical forces at work that make the responsibilities of
leading so difficult. The reference to
Zhou Gong and the quotation of the Shijing poem “Deer Cry” are integral
parts of the authoritative literary persona Cao Cao creates. “Deer Cry” is a song that was historically
performed by entertainers at court banquets in the presence of the
emperor. Cao Cao assumes this
leadership role and compares himself to Zhou Gong, yet the sentiment is one of
humility and responsibility. We have
here a pairing of contradictory values that finds resolution in sacrificing
ones own personal pleasure or nutrition for the good of others.[34] The responsibility of exhibiting li
(moral decorum) in the end is more important than ones own personal pleasure (le).
The spitting image served up in the context of drinking or banqueting is
fundamental to this political posture and was to be reiterated by his
sons. Cao Zhi uses the image in the
following fu in order to praise the leadership qualities of his older
brother the crown prince Cao Pi.
Entertaining Guests
Stirred by the summer day’s
blazing sunlight,
I wander in the fresh
coolness of winding towers.
I go with happy guests to
join a sublime feast,
Where cinnabar curtains hang
brightly on every side.
The bountiful foods of the
inner kitchen are made;
Alluring singing girls from
Qi and Zheng perform.
Writers spew their marvelous
talk,
Set flying light quills and
complete compositions.
We speak of the clear odes of
bygone days,
All within the weft of the
worthies and sages.
We delight in the lofty
righteousness of our young lord;
His virtue is as fragrantly
perfumed as thoroughwart.
He extends his humaness and
kindness to simple homes,
And surpasses the Duke of
Zhou’s missed meals.
In this air of goodwill I
forget my cares;
The fine wine is pure and the
viands sweet.[35]
Cao Pi was selected by Cao
Cao to be his heir and subsequently established the Wei dynasty in 220 AD. Much has been written about the family drama
that transpired in the process of Cao Cao’s decision making; this I will leave to
the reader to explore elsewhere.[36] While in the first poem Cao Cao likened
himself to Zhou Gong, Cao Zhi here respectfully defers to the elder Cao Pi and
again brings out the spitting image of the humble servant of the people. Perhaps it is useful to view this comparison
of Cao Pi to Zhou Gong as one of expectations.
Li or ren “benevolence” is the standard for measuring a
leader’s worth.
The
following poem further illustrates this conflict between social responsibility
and enjoying the pleasures and comforts of political power. Here the image of Zhou Gong spitting out his
food is linguistically reconfigured, truncated to simply the character tu - to spit or vomit.
Yet the sentiment of this image is further delineated by additional
vocabulary.
How Splendid!
At dawn joy rises upon joy;
Intoxicated, yet I am not
drunk.
From the moving strings comes
the new sound;
From the long flutes comes
the pure breath.
The stringed song moves men’s
hearts;
On every side there is
rapture.
Then the high hall is
deserted;
A cool breeze enters my room.
I hold this fullness as if it
would not overflow;
What can be gained can be
lost!
Gentlemen have much sorrow;
And its causes are many.
Discontented, I leave my
humble chamber;
Official business
(literally spitting [food] and wringing[hair]) cannot be delayed.
Satisfied, the guests go
home;
Their host’s labors they do
not know.
The one-winged geese soar to
the Milky Way;
How can fowlers restrain
them?
Soaring to tranquillity and
reaching spontaneity,
Can glory and honor equal
this?[37]
The movement
of imagery from the clear breath producing music through the flute to the
spitting act demonstrates an abrupt transition in the poem highlighting the
opposing attitudes of relaxation and duty.
Commentators link the image of the humble chamber (bai shi) - literally
white house - to the spitting image of Zhou Gong and refer readers to Cao Cao’s
poem “Brief Song.”[38] By viewing these social values in terms of li,
we can attain a greater awareness of just how much the Jian’an leaders still
espoused certain Confucian values personified in cultural heroes such as Zhou
Gong despite the fact that most social histories of the period emphasize the
opposite.[39] It is in the negotiation of propriety or
social responsibility and personal pleasure that we can see the cultural and
social conflicts present during this time.
In
the end, I believe that terms such as kang kai or feng gu may be
pointing at qualities of behavior and aesthetics retrospectively that imply
conceptions of li. If one is
decorous, then in these banquet situations participants impart emotions that
have been socially construed as kang kai. The language with which these sentiments are conveyed may be
described as feng gu. With these
considerations in mind, we can see that there are particular expectations for
types of behavior at banquet scenes. Li
or decorum is simply a broader category through which we can read this cultural
phenomena. Whereas the later Six
Dynasties literary critics probably were not reading Jian’an poetry with
conceptions of li in mind, the actual participants of the banquet most
likely were.
The
image of the one-winged, one-eyed goose is often utilized as a symbol for the
expression of political relationships.
Only by joining together can this mythic bird fly. Cao Pi’s use of this bird in his poem is one
of positive capability. However, the
poet Ying Yang provides a fuller description of a similar yet less mythic bird
and draws attention to the tenuous nature of political relationships during the
Jian’an period. In the next section, I
will look at Ying’s poem more closely.
4. Talking Fowl and Fretting at the Feast
Another
area of demeanor found in the banquet scene that experienced a transformation
during the Jian’an period was the expression of political vulnerability and the
negotiation of loyalties between literati and the ruler. In the second chapter, we witnessed the
progression of a song cycle that in a ritual fashion gave voices to both the
ruler and his ministers. This exchange
acted out the expression of desires and expectations that each party had in
relation to each other. The practice of
this exchange persisted in the Jian’an period, but both the form and the
content of these communications experienced noticeable mutations. The programatic ritual toasting and the
song cycle seem to have fallen out of use or were observed only partially
during banquet events.[40] However, new forms were invented, perhaps
derivative of the older customs.
Banquet decorum may not have been dictated by a ritual text during this
time, yet the gathering and communication between literati and royalty was
certainly not unorganized. We can
witness an example of this pattern of communication in a praise poem by Ying
Yang. Whereas Cao Pi in “How Splendid”
employed the image of a goose in order to convey a feeling of shared optimistic
aspirations, Ying Yang uses the goose to voice his own sufferings of doubt and
insecurity in a troubled political environment. Ying Yang’s poem may be compared to the second poem of the song
cycle “Four Steeds” when the minister has the opportunity to voice the
frustrations experienced while serving his king. Without the ritual formula, expressing fear and vulnerability in
the context of a festive literati gathering might dramatically alter the mood
of such an occasion, especially in an unstable court such as Cao Cao’s. Yet with an appropriate form - a modified
praise poem - such statements are possible.
While not as formulaic as the ritual song cycle, and not as direct,
something of the spirit of the exchange remains. This new style of expression helps to further define the Jian’an
sense of decorum for banquet scenes.
Before taking a closer look at how Ying’s poem demonstrates this
settling of loyalties, I would like to familiarize the reader with the manner
in which Chinese poets employed bird imagery in order to vocalize their own
feelings. The conventions associated
with bird imagery in part facilitated the poet’s ability to speak of sensitive
political relationships in an indirect and non-threatening way.
A
useful way to characterize the Chinese approach to employing bird imagery in
poetry is to think of the symbolizing process in terms of sympathy and
empathy. Zuoya Cao in her discussion of
the relationships between the “perceiving subject” and the “perceived bird”
makes the following illuminating point by contrasting Western Romantic poetry
with Chinese poetry.
When
poets in both Chinese and Romantic traditions write poems about an animated object such as a bird, and express
the inner world by establishing certain relationships between the perceiving subject and the perceived bird, the
Romantic poets usually create a tension
between the two, perceiving the bird as a contrast to the speaker and also a
symbol for what the speaker
strongly desires, whereas Chinese poets tend to merge the identity of the subject with that of the bird, either
projecting themselves physically into the bird or blurring the distinction between the observer and the
bird. The relationship between the perceiving subject and the perceived object
in Chinese poems is close to the so-called “empathic”
relationship.[41]
Empathy may be defined as the
attribution of ones feelings to an object.
In several Jian’an banquet poems, poets use this strategy of empathy in
order to indirectly vocalize their feelings through the image and voice of a
bird. The result is that the poet
essentially fuses his own or another’s personality with the bird. The origins of using bird imagery in Chinese
poetry may be dated to a very early time as evident in the Shijing. However, Jian’an poets when calling up the
image of birds are most often interpreted as participating in the tradition of
the Chuci anthology. This
statement may be supported by the fact that commentators frequently cite lines
from the Chuci in reference to a poet’s use of bird imagery.[42] By adopting this style of speaking, the poet
(in the manner of Qu Yuan or other Chuci poets) may politely mask his troubled
feelings, yet banquet participants are (as are later readers) very much aware
of the nature of such a posture. This
practice expresses an old ideal of decorum for the banquet scene in a novel
way. Ying Yang’s poem is an excellent
example of this approach to airing political insecurities.
Written on Behalf of the
Leader[43]
of Court Gentlemen for Miscellaneous Uses, at Jianzhang Terrace[44]
(Ying Yang 190-252)
At dawn geese cry in the
clouds.
What sorrow in their sounds!
I ask one[45]
to what area does he travel?
Folding its wings and pacing
about,
he responds: “I come from the
northern frontier,[46]
and will return to Hengyang[47]
to rest.
When it was spring I flew to
northern land.
Now in the winter months I
will visit south of the Huai.[48]
During this long trek I
encounter frost and snow.
Everyday my feathers and tail
are torn.[49]
Constantly I fear wounds to
the flesh and bone,
that my body will fall deep
into yellow mud.
A large pearl sunken in
gravel.[50]
How will I manage to lift
myself up?
I long to rely on a meeting
of the ‘clouds and rain,’[51]
to wash my wings and ascend
on high.
If I cannot meet with this
good opportunity,
how can I reach the place of
favor and rank?
The lord honors dearly loved
guests[52]
and tires not of pleasure and
drink.
With a warm countenance, he
is congenial;
willing to look on those who
are trifling.
He goes as far as to bestow
poems for our comfort;
for ones so lowly this is
highly unfitting.
Yet let us enjoy his
generosity to the utmost,
“Don’t return home until
drunk.”[53]
All of you in attendance take
special care of your duties
and he will hold in his heart
all of your needs.[54]
In
reading this poem, I would like to highlight the social practice of performing or
composing this kind of work at a banquet occasion. Ying Yang’s presentation of such a poem at a public gathering is
an indication of the fluid atmosphere of Cao’s court at Ye. Cao Cao welcomed many new literati into his
fold during the Zhongping and Jian’an periods such as Chen Lin in 190 and Wang
Can in 209. Ying is clearly recalling
his past struggles and looking to Cao Cao’s court as a place of refuge. This poem, by subtle means, is quite
forthcoming about the poets social and (by extension) physical welfare. The literary term kang kai is
particularly useful in understanding the personal emotions expressed in this
poem. Prof. Lin’s assesment of the
heroicism of Jian’an poets is also quite fitting here. However, kang kai does not help to
explain the social practice of presenting such a poem at a banquet. We could
analyze the poem (especially the last eleven lines) within the genre of praise
poetry, yet something more is occuring in this text than simply Ying Yang
praising Cao Cao. Because of the
startling contrast between the first portion of the poem and the ending, I
hesitate to call this poem a standard praise work. The earliest examples of praise poetry in China may be found in
the song section of the Shijing.
As Stephen Owen has remarked, the song poem embodies the
approximate idea of what a praise poem should accomplish.[55] Often these works are formal declarations of
a figure’s high moral character and are embellished by stiff hyperbole. After the Han dynasty, however, this
four-character praise vehicle fell out of use.
The last eleven lines of Ying Yang’s five-character poem fulfills Owen’s
general description of praise poetry.
“Praise poetry has always served the legitimate function in society of
articulating the highest public values of that society and, by applying those
values to a specific person or event, implicitly measuring the reality against
the ideal.”[56] When yoked to the conventions of praise,
the first portion of Ying Yang’s poem serves to amplify his gratitude to Cao
Cao. Yet in its vivid depiction of
suffering, Ying Yang’s veiled self-portrayal as a goose stretches the
boundaries of praise decorum.
The
following two poems form an exchage in poetry between a member of the
aristocracy (Cao Zhi) and a literatus (Wang Can).[57] Other scholars have placed these poems in
the context of epistolary poetry in an effort to describe the close literary
community that existed during the Jian’an period.[58] My point in highlighting Wang Can and Cao
Zhi’s exchange is to indicate the use of the poem as a medium for assuaging
political anxiety. When viewed in the
context of Ying Yang’s poem and the last poem of this secton, Wang Can and Cao
Zhi’s works represent a new development in the communication between literati
and the ruling family. In previous
eras, there is no similar precedent for how these two groups managed such
sentive expressions. That this exchange
could have taken place in writing is evidence of a sophisticated decorum at
work that allowed for direct communication couched in coded imagery.
“Miscellaneous 3 of 5"
(Wang Can)
At sunset I roam the Western
Gardens,
Wishing to relieve my
meloncholy feelings.
The curved pools are astir
with white ripples,
Rows of trees radiate
cinnabar blossoms.
Overhead there is a solitary
perched bird,
With fond thoughts of spring
it sings to me.
I gather up my gown, longing
to follow him.
But the road is steep, I
cannot proceed --
I pace to and fro, unable to
leave.
[To the bird: ]
Standing on tip-toe I gaze at
your form,
The wind spirals and raises
up dust,
The white sun is suddenly
obscured.
I return and enter my empty
chambers,
Through dreams let me show my
“pure sincerity.”
Human wishes are not denied
by heaven,
Why fear that we shall not be
united?[59]
Ronald Miao indicates that
from the start of this work we can understand that Wang Can has decided to
visit the Western Gardens in order to “relieve” his “meloncholy feelings.”[60] This point is noteworthy in its indication
of how literati and the aristocracy viewed nature (or controlled nature) as a
theraputic force. However, nature is
not entirely calming as Wang Can’s attention turns to a bird which we may be
able to identify as a representation of Cao Cao. Miao makes the argument that this kind of reading of symbolism
(bird representing Cao Cao) while not readily apparent to non-Chinese readers
is a valid interpretation given other poems by Wang Can that express anxiety
about his political position using similar imagery. “I gather up my gown, longing to follow him./But the road is
steep, I cannot proceed/ pace to and fro, unable to leave.” If we are to accept the symbolic reading of
the narrator following the bird for Wang Can following Cao Cao, then the
political context for Wang Can is precarious.
Wang Can emphasizes his “pure sincerity” qing cheng in line
fourteen with a quotation from Zhuangzi. “Truth is the ultimate manifestation of pure sincerity; without
purity and sincerity one cannot move others.”
Miao states in relation to this quote: “Wang Can’s use of allusion here
implies not only the sincerity of his longing to follow the bird, but a desire
to influence it through the ‘purity’ of his motive.”[61] Cao Zhi responds to Wang Can in the
following poem.
“To Wang Can” (Cao Zhi)
I sit gravely troubled by
sorrowful thoughts,
grasp my robe, rise, and
wander west.
Trees blossom with spring
flowers,
the clear pond splashes into
a long stream.
In the pond is a lone
mandarin duck
crying sadly for its mate.
I want to befriend this bird,
pity! There is no light boat.
About to return, I forget the
old path.
I turn back to look and feel
only sorrow.
The sad wind moans by my
side,
and the sun goes and will not
stay.
Yet layered clouds nourish
all things;
why fear their moisture will
not reach all around?
Who makes you ponder so?
You cause yourself to dwell
on a hundred worries.[62]
Cao Zhi in this poem placates
Wang Can’s fears of political instability in Cao Cao’s court. Using the shared imagery of the Western
Garden, Cao Zhi focuses on the mandarin duck in an effort to characterize Wang
Can as the solitary courtier seeking the support of his lord, Cao Cao. Robert Joe Cutter in his explication of this
poem states: “Cao Zhi is saddened that he is unable to help Wang Can (lines
7-12), but he tells him not to worry (lines 13-16), for the moisture of layered
clouds -- metaphors for the favor of someone in high position -- will surely
come sooner or later.”[63] This exchange in verse helps to describe the
intimacy and supportive nature of the Jian’an literary community. Competitiveness and political posturing
surely had its place during the Jian’an period, yet poetry helped to diffuse
rivalries and assuage the insecurities of the literati in their efforts to demonstrate
loyalty and worthiness. The li
observed in grooming these relationships found its fullest expression in shared
verse.
The
last poem in this section, by Chen Lin (d. 217) offers another glance at the
troubled feelings experienced by the literati at the banquet scene.
“No Title”
It was a fine feast, joy
suddenly left,
and I, a stranger, could not
keep my cheer;
dark thoughts came from deep
within,
a sadness stirred by a song’s
clear notes.
I set down my cup and left
the happy board,
went aimlessly walking among
tall trees,
where the wind whistled down
mountain valleys,
and tracks through sky
darkened with clouds.
Lost in sad thought I forgot
to turn home,
and tears fell with sighs and
soaked my robes.[64]
As an outsider, Chen Lin
voices his innermost worries of the security of his position at Cao Cao’s
court. Stephen Owen writes: “In the
middle of the feast, dark thoughts come.
The feaster may rise, leave the party in the great house, and like the
wandering soul to be called back, go wandering off through the darkness.”[65] Just as Ying Yang described his
harrowing journey before arriving at Cao Cao’s city of Ye, Chen Lin is well
aware that political alliances are fragile at this moment in Chinese history.
5. The Physical Environment: Indoor li vs Outdoor le
Having
considered some of the more important aspects of banquet social behavior in
relation to the paired terms of decorum and pleasure, I would like to now
consider the physical environment in
which these scenes took place. From my
reading of Jian’an convivial works, the space that banquets and gatherings
occupied often had a noticeable effect on the content and style of
versification. We have seen that the
words of literary critics shape the perception of Jian’an works, but they also
impel us to more fully explore their spatial dimensions and the recording of
social activities. Liu Xie’s quote from
the Wenxin diaolong can be useful in this endeavor. “Their common themes [Jian’an poets] are
love for the wind and the moon, excursions to gardens and parks, royal grace
and favors, drunken revelry and feasts.”[66] Starting from this line, we can see that the
gardens and parks chi yuan are featured as the sites of revelry and
feasting. Vincent Shih has chosen to
translate chi yuan as a binome “gardens and parks,” yet the water
imagery conveyed by chi, a word frequently seen in Jian’an poetry,
should not be overlooked.[67] Also, the verb xia deserves
attention. Wang Gengsheng glosses this
word as wanshang “to play and enjoy.”[68] Xia can also be translated as “to dally”
or “come close to” or “approach.” Thus,
we can see that the activity in the space of the gardens and parks was
interpreted as a form of leisure. The
purpose of these spaces may have been to distract and to provide outdoor
enjoyment, yet we should keep in mind that what transpired there may not have
always been consistent with their design.
The
parks and gardens referred to in Liu Xie’s commentary were at the time of the
Jian’an period closely fashioned after previous dynasty recreation spaces and
hunting parks. Edward Schafer in his
study “Hunting Parks and Animal Enclosures in Ancient China” describes the
evolution of these aristocratic leisure spaces from earliest times through the
Period of Disunion to the Tang dynasty.[69] For the most part, Schafer’s analysis
concentrates on the larger estate parks as described in Han fu such as
Sima Xiangru’s “Rhapsody on Shanglin park” (Shanglin fu.) However, the spaces of pleasure as viewed
through Jian’an works include smaller pleasure gardens as well as the larger
enclosed areas. Also, it is evident
from Jian’an works that banquets were frequently held in interior spaces within
palace halls and garden pavilions.
These places, regardless of size, were built for the entertainment and
leisure of the aristocratic class and the literati who served them and were a
testament to the ruler’s political power.
Cao Cao when consolidating his authority at the end of the Han dynasty
emulated earlier Han emperors in his building of palaces, terraces, parks and
gardens. Below is a overview of this
construction process.[70]
In
the year 204, Cao Cao defeated Yuan Shang, conquered the city of Ye and made it
his center of government. After this
time, he started numerous construction projects. In the year 213, Cao Cao was installed as the feudal lord at Ye
and he made it his official capital.
The important engineering projects of this time as recorded in the
biography of Cao Cao in the (Sanguo zhi) are listed as follows. “In the first month of the 13th year of
Jian’an period (208), Dark Warrior Lake was built for the purpose of training
the navy.” “In the winter of the 15th
year (210), Bronze Sparrow Terrace was
built.” “In the ninth month of 18th
year (213), Golden Tiger Terrace was built,
and a channel was dug to draw off water from the Zhang River which then flowed
into the White Moat.” The “Record of
Ritual” (li zhi) section of the History of the Song (Song shu)
also records the following projects.
“In the 22nd year of the Jian’an period (217), the state of Wei built an
institute for higher learning (pan gong) south of the city of Ye.” The History of the Song also records
that “during the seventh month of the 18th year (213), construction began on
the imperial ancestral temple in the city of Ye.” Cao Cao’s newly established city of Ye was an inventive capitol
city. He improved upon the plan of the
Eastern Han capital of Luoyang. In
doing so, he founded the palace district, the governmental district and
expanded the general populace housing district. In the north of Ye was the palace, the park, the housing district
for the nobles; in the south was the general populace housing. The city was seven li from east to
west and five li from north to south.
The city had seven gates with three in the south, one in the east, one
in the west, and two in the north all of which Cao Cao constructed. He abandoned both the Western Han and
Eastern Han plans of two palaces and consolidated the palace plan into one
complex. The topography of the northern
section of the City of Ye is elevated and descends farther northward down
toward the Zhang River. Cao Cao’s
palace, garden and three terraces as well as the housing for the nobles were
located here. At the center of the
northern wall was the palace complex living quarters. Within the palace were the main court halls which facilitated
meetings of ministers and feasting of guests.
The configuration of halls within the palace was altered somewhat by Cao
Cao from the Han model by adding one extra hall which lended the structure its
own distinct architectural style. Just
south of the palace outside of the main gate were numerous temples. To the north of the Virtuous Governing Hall
were spaces such as Crane and Agate Hall, long lanes and palace corridors, and
Catalpa and Magnolia Quarters. To the
west of the palace there was the Bronze Sparrow Park which contained winding
ponds and stone shoals, vegetable gardens and tall pavillions. This area is identified in the poetry of the
time as West Park. At the northwest
extremities of the Bronze Bird Park there were three famous terraces known as
Bronze Sparrow Terrace, Golden Tiger Terrace and Frozen Well Terrace
respectively. The River Classic
Commentary (Shuijing zhu) includes the following description of
these three terraces. “To the north
west of the city were three terraces, each along the wall foundation, lofty and
majestic rising on high, their heights were like mountains, during the 15th
year of the Jian’an period, Cao Cao erected them. . . . The middle one was
called Bronze Sparrow Terrace, ten chi in height and had more than 100
rooms. The Southern one was called
Bronze Sparrow Terrace, eight chi in height and had 109 rooms. The northern one was called Ice Well
Terrace, also eight chi in height, had 140 rooms, above there were cold
rooms, the rooms had wells whose depths reached fifteen chi, they stored
ice as well as graphite. The graphite
could be used to write and it was especially difficult to exhaust its supply;
it was also referred to as coal. There
also were grain cellars and salt cellars, to be prepared and secure. Now, above these cellars are stone
inscriptions.” Each of the three
terraces were connected by wooden walkways and may have been built with the
intention of housing a protecting army.
Each of the three terraces had four vistas. To the east was Bronze Bird Park, to the west beyond the wall was
Dark Warrior Park. Within Dark Warrior
Park was Dark Warrior Lake where Cao Cao trained his naval forces. There were also fish bridges, fishing
terraces, bamboo trees, and thick undergrowth.
The
Wei Capital Rhapsody (Weidu fu), the source of information for much of
the above description of the Ye palaces and grounds, gives a vivid picture of
the area that comprises Dark Warrior Park.
“Its park is the Dark
Warrior,
Which adjoins a dense wood.
They have circled it with
walls and opened a preserve,
Where belvederes look out one
upon another.
Large fruit grow in thick
clusters;
Giant trees shoot up fathoms
high.
Thicket bamboo and dwarf
bamboo embrace the wind;
Grapevines cast heavy
shadows.
The eddying pools are deep;
The standing water is thick.
Eulalia and marsh grass
vigorously flourish;
Metaplexis and cattails are
densely clustered.
Red lotuses riding the waves,
glisten brightly;
Green water chestnuts,
drifting on the swells, are soaked and drenched.
Winged creatures soar and
glide;
Fish and turtles swim and
dive.
Those who roost here have
their choice of trees;
Calling pheasants have their
choice of shelter.
They screech like the fowl of
Boxie and Guyu,
Constantly trumpet like the
crane in the shade.
They mark the pristine
preserve,
And engrave the “Forester’s
Admonition.”
The emperor only thinks of
state concerns,
and forgets his pursuit of
game.
Fuel-gatherers and
grass-cutters go there without fear,
And people may hunt the deer
with no restrictions.”[71]
One
of the most interesting aspects of the information presented above is that most
of the description of the buildings and grounds of the Ye capital come from
literary sources. With the exception of
the dynastic histories and the River Classic Commentary, all of our
information concerning the architectural deatails, flora and fauna of the Ye
palaces and gardens come from descriptive fu. As we know from studies of the genre, many of the descriptive
details incorporated in fu are hyperbolic and should not be taken as
fact.[72] Yves Hervout in his study of Sima Xiangru
has provided examples of how directional orientation and place names in Shanglin
fu are in many instances unverifiable and more importantly frequently
inaccurate. Modern historians of
Chinese architecture and gardens of the Jian’an period are often not concerned
with these discrepancies. What I find
most intriguing about these sources is that they provide a vocabulary and a
pattern of description that maybe used to read the manner by which Jian’an
poets describe their convivial spaces.
Realism is not the objective of Jian’an poets or later writers. Reproducing the feeling and texture of the
scene is much more important. While the
poets did not think of themselves as conjuring their surroundings from previous
descriptive models, we can venture to say that their efforts contributed to a
fictionalization of their leisure space.
However, before moving too far afield, there are many aspects of Jian’an
writing that can be attributed to the environment in which the poets
occupied. While we can only view that
environment through the subjectivity of their works, it is possible to
distinguish very rough parameters such as divisions between indoor and outdoor
space.
Indoor li
Poems
that possess descriptions of interior spaces or that can be safely recognized
as having been composed in an indoor setting have the tendency to focus on particular
themes. Therefore, in addition to
observing the writing conventions of genre (shi, yuefu or fu),
the import of a specific occasion and the influence of the presence of high
ranking officials such as Cao Cao and his sons, Jian’an poets harness their
images and diction in order to accomodate the decorum associated with the
physical environment they occupy. Poems
composed in the context of a festal hall elicit sentiments appropriate to their
interior space where relationships are the central focus. For this reason, most praise poems are
anchored within an interior setting.
Wang Can’s praise poem for Cao Cao illustrates this tendency.
“Lord’s Feast poem”[73]
(Wang Can 177-217)
Heaven sends down abundant
favors,
The hundred plants show
luxuriant growth;
Cool breezes draw away the
stifling heat,
Limpid clouds diffuse the
blazing sunlight.
A lofty assemblage meets in
the lord’s[74]
hall,
Sits with him under the
shaded bowers.
Fine viands fill dishes round
and square,
Vintage wines brim the golden
goblets,
Pipes and strings produce
dulcet sounds,
Their tunes and rhythms evoke
quiet pathos.
Sitting together to share
this joy,
Our only complaint is the
cups move too slowly.
Heard now are the words of
the Shi poet:
“One should not return home unless
drunk!”[75]
If today we do not celebrate
completely,
For whom should we wait,
restraining spirits?
When one has enjoyed
limitless favor,
How can that person renege on
duty?
Men of antiquity bequeathed
this proverb:
“The Good Man is blessed with
fortune.”[76]
I hope that you, my master,
Will enjoy heaven’s riches.
You have matched Duke Zhou’s[77]
achievements:
Succeeding generations cannot
equal you.[78]
Ronald
Miao in his commentary on this poem states: “Stereotyped praise, of a sort commonly
found in eulogistic poems addressed by a grateful courtier to his superior,
constitutes the theme of Wang Can’s poem.
The eulogized figure whose importance the banquet celebrates emerges as
a paragon rather than an individualized human being.”[79] In constructing his eulogy, Wang Can begins
with a description of the plants, clouds, heat and breezes of exterior space,
gradually moves indoors by focusing first on the objects that lay before the
guests and then shifts to the activities of listening to music and drinking
wine. The descriptions of the luxuriant
banquet scene build toward the final expression of praise for Cao Cao where he
is compared to the Duke of Zhou and then from Miao’s perspective is mildly admonished
to “uphold the conduct of his famous predecessor in history.”[80] Cao Cao’s position in the hall is
foregrounded by natural elements, objects, and activities. If we were to imagine a painting of this
scene, Cao Cao would be positioned facing outward and occupying the inner most
space.
The
next poem offers another perspective on the way that architectural designs help
ground a poem and influence the sentiments observed. In contrast to Wang Can’s praise poem for Cao Cao, in Cao Zhi’s
poem “For Ding Yi” we have a private feast for a small group of friends. The relationships are intimate and the space
reinforces this closeness.
For Ding Yi
Distinguished guests fill the
wall’s watchtowers,
Fine delicacies emerge from
the inner kitchens.
I and two or three friends,
Privately feast in this corner
of the city wall.
A Qin lute plays western
airs;
Large Zithers from Qi raise
an eastern song.
When the viands come, they
don’t go back empty,
But when the cups arrive,
they return without a drop.
Would I act familiar with
strangers?
My comrades and friends are
here with me.
Our great country has many
good, talented men
Just as the sea produces
bright pearls.
The gentleman is never in
want of goodness,
Small men have no source of
virtue.
By amassing good deeds one
has blessings to spare,
And changes in fortune can be
awaited any time.
August are those who adhere
to great principles,
Most commoners cling to
trivial rules.
The gentleman comprehends the
great way,
And does not want to be a
worldly scholar.[81]
It is
tempting to read this poem in light of the numerous narratives of frustrated
ascension that surround Cao Zhi and his relationship with his father Cao Cao
and his older brother Cao Pi. However,
we can observe simply that this poem describes an effort on the part of Cao Zhi
to consolidate a group of close friends in a space distant from the central
kitchens and the official and centrally located banquet halls. From the very start of the poem, the
exterior position of the gathering is indicated by the presence of the city
walls. In this demarcated space,
similar to Wang Can’s poem, there is the description of activities in the
foreground gradually leading the reader to the central focus, the esteemed
relations of the guests at hand.
Secured in this edge of the city, Cao Zhi delivers his panegyric verse
salted with advise for his friends to emulate the way of the gentleman who is
unconcerned with worldly affairs.
Unlike Wang Can’s poem both in function and in the position the composer
holds, it is appropriate that these kinds of statements are uttered at the edge
of the walled city limits.
The
next yuefu poem by Cao Zhi describes another private space for
banqueting and edges toward an almost secretive or defensive portrayal of
celebration. While there are numerous
poems set in outdoor spaces that express similar carpe diem sentiments,
the interior physical environment of this work enhances its power to convey the
need of the poet to seize the day with urgency.
To “In the Days to Come of
Great Trouble”
The day is painfully long
And our enjoyment too great,
So jade goblets are set,
preparations made in the east kitchen.
We open our true feelings,
Our hearts are close.
We have a feast behind closed
doors,
And are cordial and merry.
Set the horses to roam and
bring them back late;
Tip the carriages poles up
and take off their wheels.
Today we share the same hall,
But once out the door, we
scatter to different places.
Parting is all too easy,
meeting is hard,
so let’s all empty our cups.[82]
The central opposition
presented in this yuefu poem resides in the description of the open
hearts of the guests and the closed doors of the hall. Further precautions to secure the presence
of the friends invited to this intimate gathering is facilitated by the removal
of the guests’ carrige wheels. The
physical environment in this poem is not restrictive; it is protective, for
when the guests leave the chances for meeting again are uncertain.
The
next poem may be viewed as a compliment to the above piece, as it conveys a
very similar picture of convivial pursuits.
To “The Carriages Are
Hitched”
Happily seated in a fine
hall,
Bringing together all the
honored guests.
Servants pass wine cups;
The host leaves his place.
Turning to look in the east and
west chambers,
There are stringed and woods,
drums and bells.
They won’t go home until
drunk,[83]
and carry on the night with
bright lanterns.[84]
One of the salient features
of poetry portraying indoor settings is the description of wine and drinking. The host of this party (Cao Zhi) gets up
from his place, surveys the surroundings and then remarks that the guests will
not leave until late in the night when all are satisfactorily inebriated. Cutter indicates that several commentators
have defended Cao Zhi’s attitudes towards wine by stating that the poet was
aware of the dangers of drinking.[85] Huang Jie forces this argument in his
commentary on the last two lines of this poem.
I agree with Cutter that there is ample evidence in his poetry that Cao
Zhi enjoyed the pleasures of drink.
Quoting the Shijing poem “Sopping Dew” is appropriate given the
festive context and if we are to believe the Han commnetator Zheng Xuan, to not
get drunk would be impolite.
Nonetheless, the reader can sense in this poem how precious these
gatherings were to Cao Zhi and his guests.
The interior setting assists the host in preserving this time together.
Outdoor le
The
most noticeable feature of poems that describe outdoor convivial gatherings is
that they possess an unrestrained quality of expression. Whereas the indoor poems focus on eulogy,
closely forged relationships, staged drinking and entertainment, this next
series of poems embrace the descriptive tendencies of fu with extended
narration of garden strolls, carriage riding in the open night air and a hearty
exhortation to live life to the fullest.
In these outdoor poems there is a conspicuous absence of alcohol as well
as the decorum that regulates its consumption.
Instead of celebrating with wine, poets out of doors embrace the
headiness of luxuriant gardens.
Activities in this environment frequently lead to statements of a carpe
diem nature. Li Zihou in his
description of the Wei-Jin era highlights these carpe diem sentiments in
the works of Cao Cao, Cao Pi , Cao Zhi and later poets and scholars. “From the Jian’an through the Jin and the
Song of the Southern Dynasties, from royalty and nobility down to middle and
lower social echelons, this anxiety over life and death, survival and
extinction, and sorrow over the shortness of life, spread far and wide,
becoming the keynote of a whole epoch.”[86] These concerns appear in both indoor and
outdoor settings, yet outdoor settings require a more impassioned
expression. The confines of halls and
interior structures shelter the banquet participants, but the gardens place
them on a larger stage. There is a
decorum in outdoor celebrations that centers around a conception of playfulness
and sport, two activities that recurr in the following works.
“Written by Hibiscus Lake”
(Cao Pi 187-226)
By hand-drawn cart, an
excursion at evening,
a carefree stroll in the
Western Gardens.
Double conduits pour water
into the lake,
rare trees line the streams
that pass through,
their low limbs brushing my
feathered carriage top,
their tall branches sweeping
the azure sky.
A sudden wind lifts the
carriage hubs,
flying birds start up before
me.
The red of sunset flanks the
bright moon,
gleaming stars come out
between the clouds --
the heavens send down their shining
colors,
their five hues fresh and
clear!
Mine is not the long life of
Song or Qiao;[87]
who can hope to be immortal
like them?
With pleasures I will ease my
heart,
take care to live out my
hundred years![88]
From the first couplet of
this work, the reader is presented with the mood of expansive wandering echoing
the words of the Zhuangzi chapter Shaoyao you translated by
Burton Watson as “Free and Easy Wandering.”
The description of the excursion contrasts the man-made wonders in the
Western Gardens such as the fine trees lining the controlled streams of water
with the sudden arrival of gusts of wind catching the carriage hubs and setting
birds into flight. The narrator’s
vision, moving with the ascending birds, then takes in the atmosphere of dusk
with the moon and stars sending down their colors. The response to this scene rejects conceptions of immortality and
emphasizes the mortal, human pleasures of life to be enjoyed within ones
natural span of years. Set in a larger
setting than the banquet hall, Cao Pi’s poem focuses on an individual
experience of the wonderous garden, a microcosm for the universe. Freed from ritual behavior and the
obligations of human relationships, the poet can ease his heart with
pleasure. However, despite the absence
of other human characters in this poem, this is an experience shared with a
gathering of literati. Cao Zhi’s poem
that complements “Written at Hibiscus Pool” provides a more complete depiction
of this social dimension.
“Lord’s Feast poem”[89]
(Cao Zijian 192-232).
The prince[90]
honors dearly loved guests,
and he tires not to the
party's end.
We roam West Park[91]
on clear, cool nights,
canopied coaches one after
another.
With clear rays the bright
moon washes all pure,
the constellations[92]
lie scattered.
Fall's orchids blanket the
long slopes,
red blooming covers green
pools.
The sunken fish leap in
limpid waves,
and in high boughs the fine
birds sing.
Numinous gusts catch our
russet hubs,
light carriages move along
with wind.
Whirled along, our spirits are
free ‑
may it stay this way for a
thousand autumns!
After clearly indicating the
social and spatial setting of the poem in order to convey his gratitude to Cao
Pi, the host of this gathering, Cao Zhi offers a similar depiction of the West
Gardens. As Cutter has observed, Cao
Zhi offers an ordered portrayal of the West Garden that reinforces the praise
directed toward Cao Pi. The controlled
imagery contrasts with Cao Pi’s wandering eye.
The social function of Cao Zhi’s work harnesses the description, yet at
the conclusion a hearty refrain emerges that equals Cao Pi’s expression,
“Whirled along, our spirits are free ‑may it stay this way for a thousand
autumns!”
The
following two poems by Wang Can are examples of what Ronald Miao calls “conventional
exercise[s] on the theme of communal excursion.”[93] The vistas offered in this work expand on
the scenery described by Cao Pi and Cao Zhi.
“Miscellaneous 1 of 5" (Wang Can 177-217)
On a lucky day, taking
advantage of fine weather,
We follow the lord to the
Western Gardens.
Carriage axels abreast, we
whip on our fine steeds,
Side by side we proceed,
striking the road to the central plain.
In the north we overlook the
Ch’ing-chang waters,
In the west we gaze upon the
Po-yang Mountains.
Turning, we roam the spacious
close,
Drift at will on the rippling
waters.[94]
Here the host of the outting
is Cao Cao and the landscape portrayal serves to laud his real estate. In addition to carriage travel, Wang Can
mentions in the last line moving about by boat. The body of water most likely is Dark Warrior lake where Cao Cao
conducted naval exercises prior to his Red Cliff (208) campaign. This poem, however, was composed sometime
after 209.
#4 “Miscellaneous 2 of
5" (Wang Can)
Rows of Carriages; at rest the
thronging equipage --
A convivial scene by the
green water margin.
The dark magnolia spouts
glorious fragrance,
The lotus radiates a pink
glow.
A hundred birds -- how they
flap and flutter,
With winged tumult the flocks
chase each other.
Cast the nets, draw in the
deep hiding fish,
Pull the crossbow -- down the
high flying ones!
The sun is already hidden in
the west,
Amidst such joy one forgets
to return home.[95]
This particular outing is of
a notable scale. Hunting and fishing
are the featured activities. As a very
brief piece, its value is in documenting convivial life at a distance from the
capital.
The
last poem that considers outdoor scenes is by Liu Zheng (d. 217) who died just
a year after the gathering described here.[96] The imagery bears a striking resemblance to
the works presented above by Cao Pi and Cao Zhi composed four years earlier in
212. There are numerous expressions in
this poem that distill the pleasure experienced at this occasion.
“Lord’s Feast poem”
A long day of roaming at
leisure[97]
and still our delight is not
yet complete.[98]
Enjoying after-gathering
entertainment[99]
in the dark night,
together we return, moving at
ease.
Our silk canopied coaches[100]
whirl along
as followers fill the
roadside.
The moon comes out and shines
in the garden
where precious trees are lush
and deep green.
Clear streams course through
stone channels,
flowing waves pass the fish
locks.[101]
Hibiscus scatter their
brilliance,
Lotus flowers spill over onto
gold banks.
Phoenix[102]
sojourn at the water’s edge,
Unicorns[103]
roam near Flying Bridge.
We lodge in resplendent
quarters near the flowing waves,
where open spaces invite cool
breezes.
Never before in my life have
I heard
a song that could capture the
tranquility of this moment.
Setting down my brush, I
heave a long sigh.
Such magnificence, I will
never forget.
Several
commentators, including Zhu Xi, hold this poem in high regard because of the
absence of any eulogistic language as is found in Wang Can’s “Lord’s Feast
poem.” They note its beauty in
portraying scenery and single out the line “The moon comes out and shines in
the garden”for specific praise.[104] Like Cao Pi and Cao Zhi’s works, Liu Zheng
begins his description of the gathering with a cluster of words conjuring
varying aspects of leisure such as “Roaming at leisure” and “delight”. Following a description of the various
natural elements in the garden such as the trees, streams, flowers, animals and
architecture, Liu Zheng departs from previous gongyan models by giving
the reader an assessment of his own emotional state without the carpe diem
theme. “Never before in my life have I
heard/a song that could capture the tranquility of this moment./Setting down my
brush, I heave a long sigh./Such magnificence, I will never forget.” The image of the poet
setting down the brush gives the poem a touch of immediacy that other works in
the genre lack. Instead of direct
praise to Cao Cao, Liu praises the splendor of the moment, a novel way to honor
the entire occasion.
Overall,
the poems that describe outdoor settings while not leaden with wine imagery
manage to project carefree and leisurely attitudes that works set in interior
spaces can not. The compositions are
for the most part just as well ordered and balanced in their phrasings, yet
description abounds instead of quotation, allusion and drunken cheers. The cheering that is present finds
expression in closing statements and often seem to be shouted out while the
poets are in motion, rattling through the garden in a hand-drawn carriage. Out of doors the guests can momentarily
escape the li of seating plans, toasting sequences and polite verse and
turn their attentions beyond themselves to the le experienced in the
garden.
6. Conclusion
Characterized by its simple purity,
directness in language and impassioned emotional expression, the poetry
produced during the Jian’an era has long been held in high esteem within the
literary tradition of China. Praise for
the works of the Cao family and the Seven Masters of the Jian’an period has
been for the most part conducted as a literary evaluation of individual
works. Starting with Cao Pi’s Dianlun
lunwen, the poetry has been measured against the personalities that
produced it. Later critics such as Liu
Xie, Zhong Rong and shihua “poetry chats” writers introduced critical
vocabulary such as kang kai and fenggu in order to measure its
worth aesthetically. However, few have
moved beyond the most well known of Jian’an works in order to survey the more
mundane aspects of literary relationships, literary social activities and the
way that their physical environment played a role in their poetic
production. By approaching a less well
trampled landscape such as the Jian’an banquet scene we can find new insights
in to this body of poetry.
With
the fall of the Han dynasty, rulers and literati struggled to bring order to
their world. In this struggle,
conceptions of moral decorum and personal pleasure had to be negotiated. The banquet scene is an ideal place to
measure this process of redefining cultural norms. Despite the fact that many political, literary and cultural
historians find the Jian’an period a time when Confucian beliefs were in
decline, the way in which the Cao family and the Seven Masters defined
themselves at the banquet provides evidence of a renewal of longstanding
Confucian values such as loyalty, duty and moral decorum. As many scholars of China have observed, in
times of political upheaval, there is a tendency among rulers and arbiters of
culture to look to the past for models of behavior and patterns of literary
expression.
In
addition to looking to social behavior as a key to unlocking new perspectives
on literary production, I have found that the physical setting of poetic composition
is a fertile area for investigation.
When it is possible to identify where a work was composed or how a work
portrays a particular environment, there are often important literary cues to
be identified. What might seem obvious
to the participants of a banquet such as being indoors or being out of doors,
often goes unnoticed by later readers.
Compositional environments play as large a role in the writing of poetry
as does the occasion for which the work is produced. This is an area of literary studies that needs more careful
attention.
One
of the problems of describing how the physical environment effects poetic
composition is the ever present influence of the literary tradition and the
generic models that poets pattern their works after. In my next chapter, I will explore the subject of generic
conventions in the banquet poetry of early medieval China.
Endnotes
[1]. One
of the most detailed descriptions of a banquet scene in a Han rhapsody may be
found in Zhang Heng’s (78-139) “Western Metropolis Rhapsody” Xidu fu
found in Selections of Refined Literature, Wen xuan . Xiao Tong, comp. Taipei: Huazheng shuju,
1991. ch. 1. Hereafter Wx.
[2].Here I
use the term “Six Dynasties” to refer to the Wu (222-280), Eastern Jin
(317-420), Liu-Song (420-479), Qi (479-502), Liang (502-557), and Chen
(557-589) dynasties respectively that made their capital in the south at
Jiankang. Both Xie Lingyun
(385-433) and Jiang Yan (444-505) imitated Jian’an period works. See Wx ch. 30 and 31.
[3].The
Seven Masters of the Jian’an period identified by Cao Pi in his Discourse on
Literature, Dianlun lunwen are:
Wang Can (177-217), Chen
Lin (d.
217), Xu Kan (170-217), Liu Zhen (d.
217), Ying Yang (d. 236), Ruan Yu (d.
212), and Kong Rong (153-208).
[4].For
further discussion of the dating and description of court belletristic
composition in group form see Christopher Leigh Connery’s Empire of the
Text: Writing and Authority in Early Imperial China. New York:
Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 1996. p. 160.
Hereafter cited as Empire.
[5].Composed
March 18th, 218. Tr. Robert Joe Cutter
in “Cao Zhi (192-232) and His Poetry.”
diss. University of Washington,
1983. p. 71. Hereafter cited as Cao Zhi.
[6].Cutter’s
second chapter “Symposium Poems and ‘Drum and Dance Songs’” presents a detailed
discussion of Cao Zhi’s banquet poems and several translations of letters that
document literati attitudes toward convivial pursuits. See Cao Zhi, p. 67-193.
[7].Zheng
Yuyu in her “Shilun gongyanshi zhi yu Yexia wenshi jituan de xiangzheng yiyi”
provides an excellent reconsideration of the historical image of the Jian’an
period by focusing on banquet poems. In
Liuchao qingjing meixue. Taipei:
Liren shuju, 1997. p. 171-218.
[8].David
Pollack indicates that the first substantial instance of dialogue conducted in
poetry or linked-verse dates to the Boliang tai poem composed by Han Wudi and
twenty-five ministers in 108 B.C.E..
See “Linked-Verse Poetry in China: A Study of Associative Linking in
‘Lien-Chu’ Poetry with Emphasis on the Poems of Han Yu and his Circle,” Dissertation. University of California, Berkeley, 1976. This poem, however, is an isolated example.
Group composition of fu appears to be a well practiced court activity
during the Han, yet the lack of textual evidence makes the study of this
subject impossible. See Connery 1996,
p. 159-160.
[9].Part
of Cao Cao’s three proclaimations known as “Edicts on Seeking the Worldly”
delivered in the years 210, 215 and 217 respectively. For a more detailed description of this adjustment in political
ideology and its impact on literature see Jing Shuhui’s Wei Jin shiren yu
zhengzhi. Taipei: Wenlu, 1991. (Originally published as a dissertation by Sichuan University,
1990.) pp. 27-39. Also, see Paul
Kroll’s “Portraits of Ts’ao Ts’ao: Literary Studies on the Man and the
Myth.” Dissertation. University of Michigan, Ann Arbor,
1976. pp. 17-24.
[10].Tr.
Kroll, 1976.
[11].Chi-yun
Chen. Hsun Yueh (A.D. 148-209): The
Life and Reflections of an Early Medieval Confucian. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1975. p. 7.
[12].Jay
Sailey treats this issue in his The Master Who Embraces Simplicity: A Study of the Philosopher Ko Hung, A.D.
283-342. San Francisco: Chinese
Materials Center, Inc., 1978. p. 314.
[13].Tr.
Stephen Owen. in Readings in Chinese
Literary Thought. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1992. p.
68. There are arguments, however, that
deflate the importance of literature at this time. Cao Zhi in a letter to Yang Xiu states that “Belleristic writing
is a minor path, certainly insufficient for proclaiming and championing the
Great Content in order to make it a shining example for generations to
come. Yang Xiong was a court attendant
in the Han, but he still said that ‘a grown man does not compose literary pieces.’”
See Connery Empire, p.145.
[14].It is
true that much of Shijing verse assumes a functional and expressive
nature, yet the sources that describe the singers or those who provided lyrics
for the singers limit our knowledge of biographical information. Also, it is not known if Shijing
poets communicated with each other as literary peers through their works. In the case of Qu Yuan, it is precisely
because of his exiled status that we know that he can only speak of his most
intimate and honest thoughts safely in a solitary posture removed from the
proximity of the throne.
[15].See
studies in Chinese by Guo Yingde Zhongguo gudai wenren jituan yu wenxue
fengmao. Beijing: Beijing shifan
daxue chubanshe, 1998, and Lu Guanghua Nanchao
guiyou wenxue jituan yanjiu. Dissertation. National Taiwan University, 1990. Many
Japanese literary histories of the Six Dynasties period are organized
under the category of literary coteries.
See Morino Shigeo’s Rikucho shi no kenkyu. Tokyo: Dai-ichi gakushusha , 1977.
[16].See
Robert Joe Cutter Cao Zhi. p.
42.
[17].Burton
Watson’s treatment of this generic change is lucidly described in his enduring
work Chinese Lyricism: Shih Poetry from the Second to the Twelfth Century. New York: Columbia University Press,
1971. chs. 1 and 2.
[18].See
the first chapter of Christopher Connery’s dissertation Jian’an Poetic
Discourse. Princeton University,
1991.
[19].Christopher
Leigh Connery. Empire. p. 159.
[20].Tr.
Vincent Shih in The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons. New York:
Columbia Press, 1959. p. 35.
[21].Chinese
text from Wang Gengsheng’s. Taipei:
Juliu tushu gongsi, 1994. p. 136. Hereafter cited as Wenxin.
[22].Robert
Joe Cutter. Cao Zhi (192-232) and
His Poetry. Dissertation. University of Washington, 1982. p. 46-47.
[23].Tr.
Siu-kit Wong. Early Chinese Literary
Criticism. Hong Kong: Joint Publishing Company, 1983. p. 90.
[24].Lin
Wenyue. “The Decline and Revival of Feng-ku
(Wind and Bone): On the Changing Poetic Styles from the Chien-an Era through
the High T’ang Period.” in The Vitality of the Lyric Voice. Ed. Shuen-fu Lin and Stephen Owen. Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1986. p. 143.
[25].Ibid. p. 144.
[26].Ibid. p. 145.
[27].James
J.Y. Liu The Art of Chinese Poetry.
Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1962.
[28].This term
I have borrowed from Enhua Edward Peng’s description of allusion in his
dissertation “The Role of Allusion in Classical Chinese Poetry.” University of California, Irvine, 1994. p. 63.
[29].David
Lattimore. “Allusion and Tang
Poetry.” in Perspectives on the
T’ang. Ed.
[30].Tr.
David Lattimore. Allusion. p. 414.
[31].Allusion. p.
406.
[32].Shiji, ch. 33.
[33].Tr.
Paul Kroll in “Portraits of Ts’ao Ts’ao: Literary Studies on the Man and the
Myth.” Diss. The University of Michigan, 1976. p. 87-88. Chinese text
from Wei Jin Nanbeichao wenxueshi cankao ziliao. Beijing daxue Zhingguo wenxue shi jiaoyan
shi, ed. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1962. p. 15-17.
[34].One of
two essential characteristics of Jian’an period writings according to Dai
Fang. Sympathy for common people’s
suffering and ambition to be politically established in a noble cause represent
the overiding concerns of Jian’an writers.
See Dai Fang “Drinking, Thinking, and Writing: Ruan Ji and the Culture
of His Era.” Dissertation. The University of Michigan, 1994. p.
241.
[35].Tr. Cutter. Cao Zhi. p. 79. Chinese text from SanCaoshiwen
quanji yizhu. Zhuan Yashu. Ed.
Changchun: Jilin wenshi
chubanshe, 1997. p. 724.
[36].This
drama is describe from the vantage point of Cao Zhi in Hugh Dunn’s Cao Zhi: The Life of the Princely Poet. Beijing: New World Press, 1983.
[37].Tr.
Lois Fusek. “The Poetry of Ts’ao P’i
(187-226). Dissertation. Yale University, 1975. p. 213.
Chinese text from Wei Jin wu jia shi zhu. Anot. Huang Jie. Taipei: Shijie shuju, 1973. p. 38-39.
Hereafter cited as Wei Jin wu jia.
[38].See Wei Jin wu jia. p. 39.
[39].For an
example of this characterization of the latter Han and Wei-Jin era see Wan
Shenggan’s Wei Jin nanbei chao wenhua shi. Taipei: Yunlong chubanshe, 1995.
p. 35.
[40].Huang
Jie bases part of his commentary on Cao Zhi’s poem “Harp Song” Konghou yin
from his understanding of the ritual text the Yili. However, he qualifies his comments by
stating that he is not certain if the Yili was closely observed at Cao Cao’s
court during the Jian’an period. Cao
Zijian shizhu. p. 95.
[41].Cao,
Zuoya. The Internal and the
External: A Comparison of the Artistic Use of Natural Imagery in English
Romantic and Chinese Classic Poetry.
New York: Peter Lang, 1998. p. 66.
[42].For
examples see commentaries to Wx and Huang Jie’s commentary on Cao Zhi’s
poem “To Wang Can.” Huang Jie, p.
56. Wx, p. 339.
[43].The
leader of the Court Gentlemen here is Cao Pi. Yu Xianhao and Zhang Caimin date
the gathering in this poem to the first month of the year 211 A.D. See Jian’an qizi shi jianzhu. Guangyuan: Bashu shushe chuban, 1990. p. 247.
Hereafter cited as Jian’an qizi.
The title wuguan zhonglangjiang is translated by Charles Hucker
as “the Leader of Court Gentlemen for Miscellaneous Uses.” This title used during the Han dynasty and
subsequent era of division was one of a group of three leaders (right, left and
miscellaneous uses positions) and refered to the person who was in charge of
expectant appointees serving as courtiers and called Court Gentlemen. A Dictionary of Official Titles in
Imperial China. p. 571.
[44].The
structure known as Jianzhang Terrace was a part of the Han dynasty building
called Jianzhang Palace jianzhang gong located in the capital city of
Chang’an. The Qing dynasty commentator
Liang Zhangju (1775-1845) indicates that there are two parts to this poem. The second part begins from the line gong
zi jing ai ke.
[45].Yu
Xianhao and Zhang Caimin indicate that zi refers to a goose or the
geese.
[46].I am inclined
to follow the notation of Yu Xianhao and Zhang Caimin who refer to han men
as “a very cold northern frontier area.”
Uchida sites sources such as the Huai Nanzi and the commentary of
Zhang Xian who states that this place is located in the northern extremities (beiji).
[47].Hengyang refers to the area south of Heng Mountain in
present day Hunan province which according to traditional lore was the southern
most resting area for migrating geese.
[48].Area
south of the Huai river which flows east from Henan province through the
northern portion of Anhui province.
[49].The Yutai
xinyong contains an old style yuefu poem entitled “Two White Geese”
which has a line that Birrell translate this line as “I would carry you away on
my back,/but my feathers and tail each day would be crushed.” Chinese Love Poetry: New Songs From a Jade Terrace. London: Penguin Books, 1986. rpt.
p. 37.
[50].Li
Shan explains that the large pearl refers to a person of virtue and talent
while the gravel refers to common folk.
[51].This
“meeting of clouds and rain,” understood by commentators as a favorable
opportunity, refers to a meeting with Cao Pi.
[52].This
line is identical to the first line of Cao Zhi’s poem in this set of Gongyan
shi.
[53].This
line comes from Shijing ode Mao #174 ‘Sopping Dew’ translated by Waley
as “Deep we quaff at our night drinking;/Not till we are drunk shall we go
home.” The Book of Songs. p.
147.
[54].Wx ch. 20.
p. 283B.
[55].Stephen
Owen, “Praise Poetry in the T’ang.” in Studies
in Chinese Poetry and Poetics, Vol. 1. Ed. Ronald C. Miao. San
Francisco: Chinese Materials Center, 1978. p. 131.
[56].Ibid.
[57].Yu
Xianhao and Zhang Caimin have indicated that these two poems are likely a
direct exchange. See Jian’an qizi,
p. 111.
[58].See
Christopher Connery’s dissertation “Jian’an Poetic Discourse.” Princeton University. 1991.
p. 304.
[59].Tr.
Ronald C. Miao. Early Medieval
Chinese Poetry: The Life and Verse of Wang Ts’an (A.D. 177-217). p. 174.
Chinese text from same work, p. 256.
Hereafter cited as Early Medieval.
[60].Wang
Can, p. 174-175.
[61].Ibid,
p. 175.
[62].Tr.
Robert Joe Cutter. Cao Zhi. p. 203.
Chinese text from San Cao.
p. 559.
[63].Cao
Zhi, p. 205.
[64].Tr.
Owen. p. 278. Chinese text from Jian’an qizi shi jianzhu. Ed. Yu Xianhao and Zhang Zaimin. Chengdu: Bashu shushe, 1988. p. 160.
[65].Stephen
Owen. An Anthology of Chinese
Literature: Beginnings to 1911. New
York: W. W. Norton & Company,
1996. p. 278.
[66].Tr.
Vincent Shih in The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons. New York:
Columbia Press, 1959. p. 35. Chinese text from Wenxin, p. 136.
[67].Cao
Pi’s poem “Written at Hibiscus Pool” Furong chi zuoshi is one important instance of the appearance
of the word chi.
[68].Wenxin. p.
145. n. 54.
[69].Edward
Schafer, “Hunting Parks and Animal Enclosures in Ancient China.” HJAS 14 (1951): p. 130-84.
[70].My
discussion is closely based on the
second chapter of Zhongguo gongdian shi. Lei Congyun, Chen Shaokang and Lin Xiuzhen. Taibei:
Wenlu chubanshe, 1995. My
translations of historical and geographical texts are based on this chapter’s
selections and then corroborated with standard editions.
[71].Tr. David Knecteges. Wen xuan or Refined Selections of Literature. vol. 1,
p. 447-449.
[72].Hervouet,
Yves. Un Poete de cour sous les Han:
Sseu-ma Siang-jou. Paris: Presses
Universitaires de France, 1964.
[73].Slight
modification of translation by Ronald C. Miao.
Early Medieval. p.
179-180. Chinese text from Wx. Ch. 20, p. 283.
[74].The
“lord ” in this poem is most likely Cao Cao.
The event took place around the year 216 A.D. .
[75].Quotation
of Shijing poem. Mao #174.
[76].Li
Shan (?-689) not es that the source for this line is unknown.
[77].The
sagely younger brother of the founder
of the Zhou dynasty, King Wu.
[78].This
final line alludes to a passage in the Guoyu (Conversations of the
States) which Ronald C. Miao translates as “Succeeding generations complete
[the tasks] of Virtue. They must not
bring dishonor to the men of antiquity.”
See Early Medieval Chinese Poetry. p. 181.
[79].Early
Medieval Chinese Poetry. p. 180.
[80].Ibid,
p. 181.
[81].Translation
based on consultation with Robert Joe Cutter’s version in Cao Zhi, p.
86-7 and Cai Zongqi’s version in The Matrix of Lyric Transformation: Poetic
Modes and Self-Presentation In Early Chinese Pentasyllabic Poetry. Ann Arbor:
Center for Chinese Studies, The University of Michigan, 1996. p. 107-8.
Chinese text from Wenxuan. Ch.
24, p. 339.
[82].Translated
by Robert Joe Cutter in Cao Zhi.
p. 98-9. Chinese text from Cao
Zijian shizhu. Ed. Huang Jie. Taipei: wenhai chubanshe, 1973. p. 141-142.
Hereafter cited as Cao Zijian shizhu.
[83].See
endnote #53.
[84].Tr.
Cutter. Cao Zhi, p. 100. Chinese text from Cao Zijian shizhu,
p. 150-1.
[85].Cao
Zhi, p. 100.
[86].Li
Zihou. The Path of Beauty: A Study
of Chinese Aesthetics. Tr. Song
Lizeng. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1994. p. 86.
[87].The
immortals Song (Master of the Red Pine) and Prince Qiao.
[88].Tr.
Watson. The Columbia Book of Chinese
Poetry. p. 111.
[89].Modification
of Stephen Owen’s translation. Anthology of Chinese Literature, 282.
[90].The “prince”
most likely refers to Cao Zhi’s brother, Cao Pi. Fang Zushen dates this poem to the year 212 A.D. See Hanshi yanjiu A Study of Han
Dynasty Poetry, p. 255.
[91].West
Park was located in the suburbs of the ancient city of Ye in modern day Loyang.
[92].The
phrase is also found in the poem “A Road to Beyond” in the Jiu huai ‘Nine
Regrets’ section of the Chuci.
Hawkes translates this line as “I wander through all the
constellations.” Songs of the South. p.
271.
[93].Wang
Can, p. 172-73.
[94].Tr.
Ronald C. Miao. Early Medieval
Chinese Poetry: The Life and Verse of Wang Ts’an (A.D. 177-217). p.
172.
[95].Ibid. p. 173.
[96].The
Tang dynasty commentator Liu Liang (n.d.) mentions that this poem was written
at the same gathering at Ye as the poem “Lord’s Feast” by Wang Can. Modern commentators such as Yu Xianhao and
Zhang Caimin
date the gathering to the fifth
month of the year 216. See Jian’an
qizi shi jianzhu Commentary to the Poems of the Seven Masters of th
Jian’an Period. p. 193.
[97].The
phrase you xian is also found within the 19 Ancient poems (Gushi shijiu
shou). Watson translates the line“qu
che ci nu ma, you xi wan yu lo.” as “I race the carriage, whip the lagging
horse,/roam for pleasure to Wan and Lo.”
Chinese Lyricism. p. 24.
[98].Wang
Yi in his commentary to the Li Sao
glosses the phrase wei yang which Hawkes translates as “Gather
the flower of youth before it is too late,/While the good season is still not
yet over.” Songs of the South. p. 76.
[99].In a poem
by Qin Jia (active ca. 147 A.D.) entitled “To my wife, three poems”contained in
the Yutai xinyong (New Songs from a Jade Terrace) there is the
shared phrase yi si. Ann Birrell
translates the line as “I send my love , pledge fidelity.” New Songs from a Jade Terrace. p.
46. The Tang commentator Li
Zhouhan (n.d.), however, reads the word yi “surplus, left over” or “leave behind.” Another interpretation glosses yisi as yuxing or “entertainment after a social
gathering.” See Xinci Zhaoming
wenxuan Taipei: Sanmin shuju,
1997. p. 838.
[100].According
to Yu Xianhao and Zhang Caimin the characters nian che originally
referred to a hand drawn cart. From the
Han dynasty onward nian che was a carriage used for transporting the
emperor. The silk canopy was usually
white.
[101].The
Tang dynasty commentator Zhang Xian (n.d.)
explains that yu fang
refers to a dike that prevents fish from escaping. (Usually called a fish weir.)
[102].The
Mao commentary to Shijing ode #252 indicates that feng huang is
equivalent to ling niao.
[103].The Shuowen
defines ren shou as qi li,
a fabulous creature that has the body of a deer, tail of an ox, hoofs of a
horse, and one fleshy horn. Following
Knechteges, and others, I translate ren shou (qi lin) as
“unicorn.”
[104].See
critical notes on this poem in Jian’an qizi shi jianzhu Commentary to
the Poems of the Seven Masters of th Jian’an Period. p. 196-7.