2. The Three Epiphanies of Shen Congwen
1. Qian Liqun indicates that the attack was part of a campaign against liberal intellectuals launched by Mao Zedong. See “Yijiu sijiunian yihou de Shen Congwen” 一九四九年後的沈從文 (Shen Congwen after 1949), in Yijiu sijiu yihou 一九四九以後 (After 1949), ed. David Der-wei Wang, Chen Sihe, and Xu Zidong (Shanghai: Shanghai wenyi chubanshe, 2011), 110.
2. For a detailed account of Shen Congwen’s suicide attempt, see Li Yang 李揚, Shen Congwen de zuihou sishinian 沈從文的最後四十年 (The last forty years of Shen Congwen) (Beijing: Zhongguo wenshi chubanshe, 2005), chapter 1.
4. Shen Congwen, “Wuyue sa xia xiashidian beiping sushe” 五月三十日下十點北平宿舍 (In a dorm, Peking, May 30, 10:00 p.m.), in Shen Congwen quanji 沈從文全集 (Complete works of Shen Congwen; hereafter SCQJ) (Taiyuan: Beiyue wenyi chubanshe, 2009), vol. 19, 42.
9. Li Yang, Shen Congwen zuihou de sishinian, 73.
10. See my discussion in Fictional Realism in Twentieth-Century China: Mao Dun, Lao She, Shen Congwen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1992), chapters 6, 7.
11. In a letter dated 1948, Shen Congwen describes himself as a “pedantic liberal” (ziyou zhuyi shudaizi, 自由主義書呆子), in “Zhi Jilu” 致季陸 (To Jilu), SCQJ, vol. 18, 518. In his self-criticisms in 1950, Shen Congwen describes himself as “a liberal leaning toward leftism” (ziyu zhuyi pianzuo, 自由主義偏左), SCQJ, vol. 27, 104. See Qian Liqun, “Yijiu sijiunian yihou de Shen Congwen,” 119.
12. See Pei Chunfang 裴春芳, “Hongying xingguang huokezheng” 虹影星光或可證 (Rainbow shades and start lights may serve as evidence), Shiyue 十月 2 (October 2009): 30–38; 解志熙, “Xie Zhixi, Aiyu shuxie shi yu zhen: Shen Congwen xiandai shiqi de xingwei xulun xia” 愛欲抒寫 “詩與真”——沈從文現代時期的文學行為敘論 (下) (Expressions of love and and eros, poetry and truth: a study of Shen Congwen’s modernist writing and engagement), Zhongguo xiandai wenxue yanjiu congkan 中國現代文學研究叢刊 (Modern Chinese literary studies) 12 (2012): 73–78.
13. Shen Congwen, “Chouxiang deshuqing” 抽象的抒情 (Abstract lyricism), SCQJ, vol. 16, 527.
14. Shen Congwen, “Duanpian xiaoshuo” 短篇小説 (Short story), SCQJ, vol. 16, 502.
16. Shen Congwen, epigraph, “Kanghong lu” 看虹錄題辭，SCQJ, vol. 10, 328.
17. Peng Xiaoyong 彭曉勇, Shen Congwen yu dushu 沈從文與讀書 (Shen Congwen and his reading) (Taipei: Funu yu shenghuo, 2001), 178–179.
18. Shen Congwen, “Shuiyun” 水雲 (Water cloud), SCQJ, vol. 12, 112.
19. The identity of the poet remains a topic of debate. Some scholars suggested that he could be Ye Rulian 葉汝璉 (1924–2007), a young poet who frequently published his works in the literary supplement of Yishibao 益世報, edited by Shen Congwen. See Wu Shiyong 吳世勇, Shen Congwen nianpu 沈從文年譜 (Biographical chronology of Shen Congwen) (Tianjin: Tianjin renmin chubanshe, 2006), 283. But Ye never published a poetry collection illustrated with woodcut prints by Huang Yongyu, which led to Shen Congwen’s reminiscences about his youthful days in West Hunan.
20. Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi” 一個傳奇的本事 (The true story of a legend) SCQJ, vol. 12, 225.
21. For Huang Yongyu’s early adventures, see Huang, “Fangfu shi bieren de gushi” 仿佛是別人的故事 (As if it were a story about someone else), appendix 4, Wu Shimang luntan (A forum on Wu Shimang) (Beijing: Sanlian chubanshe, 1998), 154–198; for Huang’s family background and his interaction with Shen Congwen, see Huang, “Taiyang xia de fengjing” 太陽下的風景 (Scenery under the sun), in Taiyang xia de fengjing (Scenery under the sun) (Tianjin: Baihua wenyi chubanshe, 1984), 143–179. For a detailed description of the rise and development of the Woodcut Movement, see Fan Meng 范夢, Zhongguo xiandai banhuashi 中國現代版畫史 (A history of modern Chinese woodcuts) (Beijing: Zhongguo qingnian chubanshe, 1996), chapters 1–3; Li Hua 李樺, Li Shusheng 李樹聲, and Ma Ke 馬克, eds., Zhongguo xinxing banhua wushinian, 1931–1981 中國新興版畫五十年 (Fifty years of modern Chinese woodcuts, 1931–1981) (Shenyang: Liaoning meishu chubanshe, 1981). For a general discussion of the rise of the Woodcut Movement, see Xiaobing Tang, Origins of the Chinese Avant-garde: The Modern Woodcut Movement (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008).
22. Shen had met Huang Yongyu once on his 1934 trip to Fenghuang.
23. Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi,” SCQJ, vol. 12, 225–226.
24. See Fan Meng; also see Xiaobing Tang, Origins of the Chinese Avant-garde.
25. For Lu Xun’s involvement in the Woodcut Movement, see Ma Tiji 馬蹄疾 and Li Yunjing 李允經, eds., Lu Xun yu zhongguo xinxing muke yundong 魯迅與中國新興木刻運動 (Lu Xun and the modern Chinese woodcut movement) (Beijing: Renmin Chubanshe, 1985); Li Yunjing and Ma Tiji, eds., Lu Xun muke huodong nianbu 魯迅木刻活動年譜 (A chronicle of Lu Xun’s involvement in the woodcut movement) (Shanghai: Shanghai renmin meishu chubanshe, 1986). Also see Tang Xiaobing, Lu Xun yu zaoqi muke yundong 魯迅與早期木刻運動 (Lu Xun and the woodcut movement in its early years), Zhongguo xiandai wenxue 6 (2002): 117–139.
26. See, for example, Tang’s argument in Origins of the Chinese Avant-garde.
27. Shen Congwen, “Tantan muke,” 談談木刻，SCQJ, vol. 16, 489.
29. Li Hua, preface to Huang Yongyu muke ji 黃永玉木刻集 (A collection of Huang Yongyu’s woodcuts) (Beijing: Renmin meishu chubanshe, 1958), 1. Also see Ma Ke 馬克, “Dute de yishu yuyan: lun Huang Yongyu de muke jiqiao” 獨特的藝術語言： 略談黃永玉的木刻技巧 (A unique artistic language: on Huang Yongyu’s woodcut technique), in Li Hua et al., Zhongguo xiandai banhuajia chuangzuo yu jingyan luncong 中國現代版畫家創作與經驗論叢 (A compendium of modern Chinese woodcut artists’ views on their creation and experience) (Macau: Shenzhou tushu gongsi, 1976), 56–59.
30. Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi,” SCQJ, vol. 12, 226.
31. I want to thank Qian Ying for bringing my attention to the link between Shen Congwen’s anticipatory nostalgia and Walter Benjamin’s notion of “aura.” My argument is inspired by Miriam Hensen’s comment on Benjamin, “The futurity that has seared the photographic image in the chance moment of exposure does not simply derive from circumstantial knowledge of its posthistory, or that of its subject; it emerges in the field of the beholder’s compulsive searching gaze. The spark that leaps across time is a profoundly unsettling and disjunctive one.” Miriam Hansen, Cinema and Experience: Siegfried Kracauer, Walter Benjamin, and Theodor W. Adorno (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012), 107.
32. Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi,” SCQJ, vol. 12, 223–224.
33. See Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi,” SCQJ, vol. 12, 229; for a general discussion of the political and military circumstances of West Hunan and the rise and fall of the “Gan Army,” see Jeffrey Kinkley, The Odyssey of Shen Congwen (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1987), chapter 7.
34. Shen Congwen, “Yige chuanqi de benshi,” SCQJ, vol. 12, 224.
39. Shen Congwen, “Ti luyan wenpang” 題綠魘文旁 (Notes on the margin of “Green nightmare”), SCQJ, vol. 14, 456.
40. Shen Congwen, “Ti Shen Congwen ziji shunei” 題沈從文子集書內 (Notes on the zi edition of Shen Congwen’s works), SCQJ, vol. 14, 458.
43. Shen Congwen, “Ti Shen Congwen ziji shunei,” SCQJ, vol. 14, 458.
44. Xie Zhixie, “Aiyu shuxie shi yu zhen,” Zhongguo xiandai wenxue yanjiu congkan, 12:78–79.
45. Li Yang, Shen Congwen zuihou de sishinian, 47.
46. Qian Liqun, “Yijiu sijiunian yihou de Shen Congwen,” 107–108.
47. Shen Congwen, “Sugeladi tan beiping suoxu” 蘇格拉底談北平所需 (Socrates on the needs of Peking), SCQJ, vol. 14, 372–375. See Jeffery Kinkley’s discussion in The Odyssey of Shen Congwen, 259–261.
48. Shen Congwen, “Ti zhongguo nuzi lanqiudu heying” 題中國公學女子籃球隊合影 (Caption on the photo of the women’s basketball team of Chinese University), SCQJ, vol. 14, 499.
49. Roland Barthes, Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography (New York: Hill and Wang, 1981), 26–27.
50. Shen Congwen, “Ti Shen Congwen ziji shunei,” SCQJ, vol. 14, 457.
51. Jacques Derrida, The Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and Beyond, trans. Alan Bass (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). “What does a post card want to say to you? On what conditions is it possible? Its destination traverses you, you no longer know who you are. At the very instant when from its address it interpellates, you, uniquely you, instead of reaching you it divides you or sets you aside, occasionally overlooks you. And you love and you do not love, it makes of you what you wish, it takes you, it leaves you, it gives you.”
55. See Li Yang, Shen Congwen zuihou de sishinian, chapters 2–4.
56. Built where the Whampoa River and Suzhou (Soochow) River met in 1907, the bridge was the largest in Shanghai.
57. SCQJ, vol. 20, 177–178.
60. As late as 1929, Shen Congwen was still considering studying oil painting with Liu Haisu (1896–1994), one of the forerunners of modern Chinese painting. See Huang Yongyu, “Fangfu shi bieren de gushi,” 172. But from his Autobiography and other sources one learns again about the writer’s spontaneous enlightenment and self-cultivation in the arts. Shen’s eldest brother, Shen Yunlu, was a self-styled modern painter friendly with such famous figures as Lin Fengmian and Pang Xunqin, and he may have been the person who initiated Shen into the world of modern arts. Back in his years as a teenage soldier, Shen had served as clerk under the warlord Chen Quzhen; in that capacity he was granted an unusual opportunity to access Chen’s collection of books, paintings, porcelains, and bronze artifacts, and he taught himself the basics of Chinese art history.
62. For the “Hundred Flowers” Campaign, see, for instance Maurice Meisner, Mao’s China and After: A History of the People’s Republic (New York: Macmillan, 1986), 177–180; Roderick MacFarquhar, The Hundred Flowers (Paris: The Congress for Cultural Freedom), 1960.
63. On May 1, 1957, People’s Daily featured “Gunayu zhengfeng yundong de zhishi”關於整風運動的指示 (Instruction on the rectification movement), followed by an editorial, “Wei shenme yao zhengfeng” 爲什麽要整風 (Why we launch the rectification movement) on May 2. See Chen Mingxian 陳明顯, ed., Xin zhnogguo sishi nian 新中國四十年 (The first four decades of new China) (Beijing: Gongren chubanshe, 1989), 211.
65. Border Town and Long River deal with the lives of boatmen on the rivers of West Hunan. Also see Shen’s numerous references in Xiangxing shujian. He opened his “Raw Materials of a Legend” with a long recollection of his intimacy with rivers.
66. I Lo-fen, 衣若芬, “Buji zhizhou: Wu Zhen yuqi yufu tujuan tici” 不繫之舟: 吳鎮與其漁父圖卷題詞 (Untied boat: Wu Zhen and the colophon of fisherman painting), Si yu yan 思與言 (Thought and language) 45, no. 2 (2007): 117–186.
67. I Lo-fen, “Xiaoxiang shanshuihua zhi wenxue yixiang qingjing tanwei” 瀟湘山水畫之文學意象情景探微 (The literary imagery in Hsiao-hsiang landscape paintings), Zhongguo wenxue yanjiu jikan 中國文學研究集刊 (Bulletin of Chinese literary studies) 20 (2003): 175–222. For a recent study of Xiaoxiang shanshui in relation to the pictorial representation of the Chinese utopia Taohuayuan 桃花源 (Peach blossom grove), see Shih Shou-chien 石守謙, Yidong de taohuayuan: dongya shijie zhong de shanshuihua 移動的桃花源:東亞世界中的山水畫 (Peach blossom grove in motion: landscape painting in East Asia) (Taipei: Yunchen chuban gongsi, 2012).
69. The whereabouts of Taohuayuan has been controversial for centuries. Shen Congwen was aware of the controversy and referred to his hometown region as a possible site of the Chinese utopia from time to time. See, for instance, “Taoyuan yu chenzhou” 桃源與沅州 (Taoyuan and Yuanzhou), in Xiangxing sanji, SCQJ, vol. 11, 233.
70. Hong Xingzu, Chuci Buzhu (Taipei: Yiwen yinshuguan, 1981), 297–298.
71. SCQJ, vol. 19, 173; vol. 20, 463.
76. For a list of Shen Congwen’s writings on arts and handicrafts, please see Kinkley’s annotated bibliography in The Odyssey of Shen Congwen, 431–438.
77. Shen Conwen, postscript to Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, “中國古代服飾研究·後記,” SCQJ, vol. 32, 526.
79. Ling Yu, Cong biancheng zouxiang shijie 從邊城走向世界 (From bordertown to the world) (Changsha: Yuelu shushe, 2006), 464–465.
80. See Francesca Bray’s discussion in Technology and Gender: Fabrics of Power in Late Imperial China (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), chapters 4–6.
82. Mark Elvin, “Tales of Shen and Xin: Body-Person and Heart-Mind During the Last 150 Years in China,” in Thomas P. Kasulis, Roger T. Aimes, and Wimal Dissanayake, eds., Self as Body in Asian Theory and Practice (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993), 213–243.
83. Xunzi, “Fupian” 賦篇 (Chapter of rhapsody), “有物於此，
兮其狀屢化如神。功被天下，為萬世文。禮樂以成，貴賤以分。養老長幼，待之而後存.” Wang Xianqian 王先謙, Xunzi jijie 荀子集解 (Annotated Xunzi), in Xinbian Zhuzi jicheng 新編諸子集成 (Annotated works of ancient masters) (Taipei: Shijie shuju, 1974), vol. 2, 316; quoted from Bray, Technology and Gender, 190.
84. See my discussion in the introduction.
85. Shen Congwen, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, chapter 17, SCQJ, vol. 32, 89.
86. Shen Congwen, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, chapter 70, SCQJ, vol. 32, 243.
87. Shen Congwen, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, chapter 152, SCQJ, vol. 32, 460.
88. Shen Congwen, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, chapter 99, SCQJ, vol. 32, 331.
89. Shen Congwen, “Fu Shen Yunlu” 覆沈雲麓 (Reply to Shen Yunlu), SCQJ, vol. 20, 196–197.
91. Shen Congwen, preface to Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, “中國古代服飾研究·引言,” SCQJ, vol. 32, 10.
92. Shen Congwen, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu, vol. 32, 224.
94. Qu Yuan, “Jiu zhang” 九章 (Nine pieces), “Pei Hui Feng [Beihuifeng]” 悲囘風 (Grieving at the eddying wind), in Hong Xingzu, Chuci Buzhu, 260; The Songs of the South: An Anthology of Ancient Chinese Poems by Qu Yuan and Other Poets, trans. David Hawkes (New York: Penguin, 1985), 181.
95. See Hu Xiaoming 胡曉明’s discussion in Shi yu wenhua xinling 詩與文化心靈 (Poetry and literary mind) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2006), 38.
96. Wang Zengqi, “Shen Congwen xiansheng zai xinan lianda” 沈從文先生在西南聯大 (Mr. Shen Congwen at Southwest Associated University), in Wang Zengqi zixuanji 汪曾祺自選集 (A collection of essays by Wang Zengqi) (Guilin: Lijiang chubanshe, 1987), 104.
97. Shen Congwen, “Chouxiang de shuqing,” SCQJ, vol. 16, 530.
98. Shen Congwen, Wucong xunfude banma, SCQJ, vol. 27, 380.
99. Shen Congwen, Wucong xunfu de banma, SCQJ, vol. 27, 381–382.
100. Ben Highmore, Everyday Life and Cultural Theory (New York: Routledge, 2002), 65.
103. Wu-chi Liu and Irving Yu-cheng Lo, eds., Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry (New York: Anchor Books, 1975), 52:
I plant beans at the foot of the southern hill;
The grass is thick and bean sprouts are sparse.
At dawn, I rise and go out to weed the field;
Shouldering the hoe, I walk home with the moon.
The path is narrow, grass and shrubs are tall,
And evening dew dampens my clothes.
Wet clothes are no cause for regret
So long as nothing goes contrary to my desire.
The translation is quite accurate, but the last line can be changed depending on one’s interpretation of the poet’s feeling and thought. Liu obviously takes 無違 as something outside that goes against the poet’s will. In consultation with Professor Zong-qi Cai, I suggest that the poet meant to say “all this hardship (metaphorically expressed by “getting my clothes wet”) does not matter, but it makes me determined not to go against my wish (becoming a farmer-hermit).” Based on this reading, the last line can be translated as “so long as this makes my wishes unswerving.” This reading makes Tao Qian—and in my context, Shen Congwen—less certain about the complete fulfillment of his wish. I thank Professor Cai Zongqi for the suggestions.
3. Of Dream and Snake: He Qifang, Feng Zhi, and Born-Again Lyricism
1. The Bible (King James version), John 3:3.
2. Founded in Tianjin in 1902, Dagongbao is the oldest newspaper still in circulation in modern China. The literary supplement was a major venue for Beijing modernists in the thirties. He Qifang was awarded the best prose prize for Huameng Lu 畫夢錄 (Painted dreams) in 1936. The editor-in-chief of the literary supplement at the time was Shen Congwen.
3. Lu Xun, preface to Xiandai Zhongguo wenxue daxi xiaoshuo erji 現代中國文學大系:小説二集 (Compendium of modern Chinese literature, the second volume of fiction), ed. Zhao Jiabi 趙家璧 (Shanghai: Liangyou tushu gongsi, 1935), vol. 5, 4.
4. Feng Zhi, afterword to Xijiaoji 西郊集 (Poems on the west side and others); quoted by He Qifang in Shige xinshang 詩歌欣賞 (Reading poetry), in He Qifang quanji 何其芳全集 (Complete works of He Qifang; hereafter HQQJ) (Shijiazhuang: Hebei renmin chubanshe, 2000), vol. 4, 432.
5. Guo Moruo 郭沫若, “Fenghuang niepan” 鳳凰涅槃 (The nirvana of the phoenix), Nüshen 女神 (Goddess) (Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe, 2002), 31.
6. He Qifang’s and Feng Zhi’s “born again” complex is also attributable to the sweeping “obsession with China” that set the Chinese modern consciousness in motion at the turn of the twentieth century. This “obsession” aroused a national yearning for rejuvenation at both the public and the individual level. See C. T. Hsia’s “Obsession with China,” appendix, A History of Modern Chinese Fiction (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971). For a different approach to the “obsession with China” as a national consciousness driven by a “failure” complex, see Jing Tsu, Failure, Nationalism, and Literature: The Making of Modern Chinese Identity, 1895–1937 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2006), chapter 1.
7. My discussion here about modernity and the polemic of beginning is inspired by but not limited to the following critical references: Edward Said, Beginnings: Intention and Method (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985); Gilles Deleuze, Repetition and Difference, trans. Paul Patton (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), and particularly Paul de Man. In “Literary History and Literary Modernity,” de Man ponders the paradoxical relationship between literature and history in terms of the invocation of modernity. “If history is not to become sheer regression or paralysis, it depends on modernity for its duration and renewal; but modernity cannot assert itself without being at once swallowed up and integrated into a regressive historical process.” Blindness and Insight (New York: Oxford University Press, 1971), 151. Further, “the continuous appeal of modernity, the desire to break out of literature toward the reality of the moment, prevails, and in its turn, folding back upon itself, engenders the repetition and the continuation of literature. Thus modernity, which is fundamentally a falling away from the literature and a rejection of history, also acts as the principle that gives literature duration and historical existence” (162).
9. An additional twist in Mao’s case as a poet is that he writes in classical style while promoting a modern, revolutionary cause. His own “born again” poetics thus cuts against the ideology formulated in his Talks and other policies. Martin Puchner’s argument about the dialectic between poetry and revolution as embedded in Marx’s “Communist Manifesto” comes to mind; see Poetry of the Revolution: Marx, Manifestos, and the Avant-Gardes (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006), 1–5.
10. He Qifang, “Bolin” 柏林 (The cypress grove), HQQJ, vol. 1, 35; Bonnie S. McDougall, trans. and ed., Paths in Dreams: Selected Prose and Poetry of Ho Ch’i-fang (Queensland: University of Queensland Press, 1976), 40.
11. There are several versions of the departure and arrival dates of He Qifang’s trip to Yan’an. According to Zhang Zizhong 張子仲, He departed on August 8, 1938, in “He Qifang nianpu” 何其芳年譜初稿 (A chronology of He Qifang’s life: a preliminary draft), Wuhan shiyuan xuepao 武漢師院學報 (Bulletin of Wuhan normal college) 1 (1982); Yin Zaiqin 尹在勤 dated the departure August 14, 1938, in He Qinfang pingzhuan 何其芳評傳 (Critical biography of He Qifang) (Chengdu: Sichuan renmin chubanshe, 1980). See Zhao Siyun’s 趙思運 discussion in He Qifang renge jiema 何其芳人格解碼 (Deciphering the character of He Qifang) (Baoding: Hebei daxue chubanshe, 2010), 37; Wang Xuewei 王雪偉, He Qifang de Yan’an zhilu: yige lixiang zhuyizhe de xinling guiji 何其芳的延安之路：一個理想主義者的心靈軌跡 (He Qifang’s path to Yan’an: the spiritual trace of an idealist) (Zhengzhou: Henan renmin chubanshe, 2008); Wang Peiyuan 王培元, Yan’an Luyi fengyun lu 延安魯藝風雲錄 (A history of the Lu Xun academy of the arts in Yan’an) (Guilin: Guangxi shifan daxue chubanshe, 2004), chapter 10; Zhang Jieyu 張潔宇 Huangyuanshang de dingxiang: ershi shiji sanshi niandai beeping qianxian shiren shige yanjiu 荒原上的丁香: 二十世紀三十年代北平前綫詩人詩歌研究 (Lilacs on the wasteland: a study of the avant-garde poets in 1930s Peking) (Beijing: Zhongguo renmin daxue chubanshe, 2003); He Zhongming 賀仲明, Yinya de yeying: He Qifang pingzhuan 喑啞的夜鶯: 何其芳評傳 (Muted nightingale: a critical biography of He Qifang) (Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe, 2004); 宇田禮 (Uda Rei), Meiyou shengyin de difang jiushi jimo: shiren He Qifang de yisheng 沒有聲音的地方就是寂寞：詩人何其芳的一生 (Loneliness is where there is no sound: the life of the poet He Qifang), trans. Xie Lili 解莉莉 (Beijing: Shehui wenxian chubanshe, 2010).
12. He Qifang, “Wo gechang Yan’an” 我歌唱延安 (I sing of Yan’an), HQQJ, vol. 2, 41; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 148.
13. He Qifang, “Wo gechang Yan’an,” 41; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 148.
14. He Zhongming, Yinya de yeying, 130.
15. For an account of He Qifang’s Western sources of inspiration, see “Mengzhong de daolu” 夢中的道路 (Paths in dreams), HQQJ, vol. 1, 54–59; also see McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 223–228, Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 21–22.
16. McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 226.
17. He Qifang, “Yuyan” 預言 (The prophecy), HQQJ, vol. 1, 5; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 33, with my modifications.
18. He Qifang, “Kaitan” 慨嘆 (Lament), HQQJ, vol. 1, 10; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 35.
19. Zhang Jieyu, Huangyuanshang de dingxiang, 70–119.
20. See Zhang Jieyu’s extensive discussion of the “wasteland” phenomenon and Beijing modernism in the late 1920s and early 1930s, Huangyuanshang de dingxiang, 105–119.
21. He Qifang, “Gucheng” 古城 (The ancient city), HQQJ, vol. 1, 45; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 42.
22. Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 22; also see Zhang Jieyu, Huangyuanshang de dingxiang, chapter 3.
23. See Zhang Jieyu, Huangyuanshang de dingxiang, chapter 3.
24. He Qifang, “Xiu xihong,”休洗紅，HQQJ, vol. 1, 27. See Michelle Yeh’s discussion of this poem in Modern Chinese Poetry: Theory and Practice Since 1917 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991), 114–118. I use Yeh’s translation.
25. Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 9.
26. Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 10–11.
27. He Qifang, “Gudairen di qinggan” 古代人底情感 (The feeling of people in ancient times), HQQJ, vol. 6, 406. See my discussion in “Lishi, jiyi, yudaxue zhidao: size xinchuanzhe de gushi” 歷史，記憶，與大學之道：四則薪傳者的故事 (History, memory, and the “way” of the university: four educators’ stories) in 1949: shanghen shuxie yu guojia wenxue 一九四九：傷痕書寫與國家文學 (1949: scar writing and national literature) (Hong Kong: Sanlian, 2009), 184–186; also see Zhang Jieyu, Huangyuanshang de dingxiang.
28. See McDougall’s discussion in Paths in Dreams, 224, 229. He Qifang, “Shan” 扇 (Fan), HQQJ, vol. 1, 55.
29. He Qifang, “Shanshang de yanyun” 扇上的煙雲 (Mists and clouds on a fan), HQQJ, vol. 1, 73; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 63, with modifications.
30. He Qifang, “Paths in Dreams,” 187; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 55, 54.
31. He Qifang, “Paths in Dreams,” 188; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 56.
32. He Qifang, “Shan,” 55; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 47.
33. McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 47.
34. Bian Zhilin, 卞之琳, “Duanzhang” 斷章 (Fragment, 1935), Bian Zhilin wenji 卞之琳文集 (Works of Bian Zhilin)，(Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe, 2000), 73.
35. He Qifang, “Suimu huairen 1” 歲暮懷人 1 (Missing someone at the end of the year, 1), HQQJ, vol. 1, 36. See Wang Peiyuan, Yan’an luyi fengyun lu, 166.
36. Wang Peiyuan, Yan’an luyi fengyun lu, 192; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 58.
37. He Qifang, “Lun gongzuo” 論工作 (On work), HQQJ, vol. 2, 7; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 131.
38. See He Qifang, “Lun Zhou Zuoren shijian” 論周作人事件 (On the Zhou Zuoren incident), HQQJ, vol. 2, 19–23; for He’s rebuttal to Zhu Guangqian, see “Guanyu Zhou Zuoren shijian de yifengxin” 關於周作人事件的一封信 (A letter on the Zhou Zuoren incident), HQQJ, vol. 2, 24–27.
39. He Qifang, “Chengdu: rangwo bani yaoxing” 成都：讓我把你搖醒 (Chengdu: let me shake you awake), HQQJ, vol. 1, 328; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 176.
40. He Qifang, “Shenghuo shi duome guangkuo” 生活是多麽廣闊 (How open and wide life is), HQQJ, vol. 1, 412–413.
41. He Qifang, “Yege I” 夜歌 I (Night songs, I), HQQJ, vol. 1, 338; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 177.
42. He Qifang, “Kuaile de renmen” 快樂的人們 (Happy people), HQQJ, 1, 372.
43. He Qifang, “Yege II” 夜歌 II (Night songs, II), HQQJ, 1, 346; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 181.
44. He Qifang, “Duoshaoci ah dangwo likaile wo richang de shenghuo” 多少次啊當我離開了我日常的生活 (How many times have I left my daily life), HQQJ, vol. 1, 426; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 196.
45. He Qifang, “Yege II” (Night songs, II), HQQJ, vol. 1, 342; McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 179.
46. He Qifang, “Shimian ye” 失眠夜 (A night of insomnia), HQQJ, vol. 1, 51.
47. He Qifang, “Jieshi ziji” 解釋自己 (Explain myself), HQQJ, vol. 1, 432.
48. “Jiaohan” 叫喊 (Screaming), HQQJ, vol. 1, 394.
49. In the draft of his unfinished novel Zonglüshu, 棕櫚樹 (Palm trees), he writes about a semiautobiographical experience in which he dreamed of being whipped by two concubines of a warlord: “When the two women whipped me, laughing loudly, I laughed too, feeling a pleasure in pain.” See Zhao Siyun’s interpretation in He Qifang renge jiema, 234.
50. He Qifang, “Jieshi ziji” 解釋自己 (Explain myself), HQQJ, vol. 1, 430.
51. The excessive, repetitive linguistic expressions may not always serve as a propaganda device reiterating ideological truisms. Rather, they may indicate a continued, failed attempt at naming something whose implied poignancy is beyond verbal transmission. For anticommunist and communist writers, the wounds caused by the inner war between the Nationalists and the Communists are so deep that they can be conveyed, paradoxically, only through unsuccessful repetitions and exaggerations. Under these circumstances, the inflated rhetoric of redundancy and hyperbole takes on a moralistic dimension. It defers any conclusive act of remembering the past by denying any proper form for it. In contrast to conventional wisdom, I therefore argue that, vacillating between ideological excess and psychological vacuity in narrating the suffering of Chinese people, communist and anticommunist writers have generated in their works some of the most ambiguous moments in modern Chinese literature.
52. He Qifang, “Bei Zhongguo zai yanshao” 北中國在燃燒! II (North China is aflame! II), HQQJ, vol. 1, 479, 483, McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 207, 209.
53. He Qifang, “North China Is Aflame! II,” 479, McDougall, Paths in Dreams, 207.
54. Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 170.
55. He Qifang, “Gaizao ziji, gaizao yishu,” 改造自己，改造藝術 (Reform oneself, reform the arts), HQQJ, vol. 2, 350.
56. He Qifang, “Zhu zongsiling de hua” 朱總司令的話 (Words of Commander Zhu De), HQQJ, vol. 2, 223–224.
57. He was in Chongqing from April 1944 to January 1945, and from September 1945 to March 1947.
58. See Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 108–109; He Zhongming, Yinya de yeying, 170–177.
59. He Qifang, “He” 河 (River), HQQJ, vol. 1, 407.
60. He Qifang, “Mao Zedong zhige” 毛澤東之歌 (The song of Mao Zedong), HQQJ, vol. 7, 453.
61. He Qifang, “Night Songs Yege he baitian de ge chngyin tiji” 夜歌和白天的歌重印题记 (Night songs and daytime songs, a note on the reprint edition), HQQJ, vol. 1, 527–529.
62. Feng Zhi, “She” 蛇 (Snake), FZQJ, vol. 1, 77.
63. Feng Zhi, “Zhu caotang chuangkan” 祝<草堂>創刊 (For the inauguration of “caotang”), FZQJ, vol. 4, 226.
64. An experimental school founded in 1917 in the spirit of the French thinker Auguste Comte. Feng Zhi also served as a teaching assistant at Peking University. Both positions were arranged by Feng Zhi’s close friend Yang Hui 楊晦 (1899–1983).
65. See, for instance, Lu Yaodong 陸耀東, Feng Zhi zhuan 馮至傳 (Biography of Feng Zhi) (Beijing: Shiyue wenyi chubanshe, 2003), chapter 3; Zhang Hui, 張暉, Zhongguo shishi chuantong 中國詩史傳統 (The tradition of poetry as history in China) (Beijing: Sanlian shudian, 2012), 26–27; Xiaojue Wang, Modernity with a Cold War Face (Cambridge, Mass.: East Asia Center, Harvard University, 2013), chapter 5.
66. Feng Zhi, “Haohua kaifang zai zuijimo deyuanli” 好花開放在最寂寞的園裏 (Beautiful flowers bloom in the loneliest garden), in Feng Zhi quanji 馮至全集 (Complete works of Feng Zhi, the authorial selections; hereafter FZQJ) (Shijiazhuang: Hebei jiaoyu chubanshe, 1999), vol. 3, 170. See Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, 58.
67. Feng Zhi, “Haohua kaifang zai zuijimo deyuanli,” 170–172.
68. Lu Xun, preface to Xiandai Zhongguo wenxue daxi xiaoshuo erji, 4.
69. Feng Zhi, “Lüyiren” 綠衣人 (A man in green), FZQJ, vol. 1, 3–4.
71. In his letter to Yang Hui dated February 21, 1925, Feng Zhi indicated that his friends did a portrait of him “which looks like Beardsley”; in his reminiscence about “Snake,” he describes how the poem was inspired by Beardsley’s painting. See “Zai lianbang Deguo guoji jiaoliu zhongxin wenxue yishujiang banfa yishishang de daci: wailai de yangfen” 在聯邦德國國際交流中心文學藝術獎頒發儀式上的答詞:外來的養分 (Nourishment from foreign sources: speech at the ceremony of literature and arts awards, the international cultural exchange center, Germany), FZQJ, vol. 5, 197–198; for a survey of decadent aesthetics in the post–May Fourth era, see Xie Zhixi 解志熙, Meide pianzhi: xiandai Zhongguo tuifei weimei zhuyi sichao yanjiu 美的偏至：現代中國頽廢唯美主義思潮研究 (The extremity of beauty: a study of the modern Chinese decadent aesthetics) (Shanghai: Shanghai wenyi chubanshe, 1997).
72. Feng Zhi, “Zai lianbang Deguo guoji jiaoliu zhongxin wenxue yishujiang banfa yishishang de daci: wailai de yangfen,” 198.
74. Ibid., 197. For Lu Xun’s and other modern writers’ fascination with Beardsley, see Cai Dengsha 蔡登山, Lingyan kanzuojia 另眼看作家 (Looking at the writers with a different eye) (Taipei: Xiuwei chubanshe, 2007), chapter 5.
75. Lu Xun, “Nahan xu” 呐喊序 (Preface to Call to Arms), LXQJ, vol. 1, 439. Quoted from Selected Stories of Lu Xun, trans. Hsien-yi and Gladys Yang (Beijing: Foreign Language Press, 1960), 3.
76. Lu Xun, “Mujiewen” 墓碣文 (Epitaph), in Lu Xun quanji (Complete works of Lu Xun; hereafter LXQJ) (Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe, 2005), vol. 2, 207.
77. Feng Zhi wrote a narrative poem during this period, “Canma” 蠶馬 (Horse cocoon), with a similar motif of the twisted relationship of loneliness and romantic yearning for companionship. Based on a Six Dynasties gothic tale, the poem tells of a girl betrothed to a horse on the condition that it could rescue her father from a perilous condition. When the horse accomplishes the mission, instead of being given the promised reward, the horse is killed and skinned. Then in a moment, the horse skin suddenly snaps around the girl, enfolding her like a cocoon, and flies away. Feng Zhi, “Canma” 蠶馬 (Horse cocoon), FZQJ, vol. 1, 104.
78. Feng Zhi, “Beiyou jiqita xu” 北游及其他序 (Preface to journey to the north and others), FZQJ, vol. 1, 123.
80. Du Fu, “Leyouyuan ge” (Song of pleasant sojourn garden), in Qiu Zhaoao 仇兆鰲, ed., Du Shaoling ji xiangzhu 杜少陵集詳注 (Annotated collection of Du Fu’s poetry), juan 2 (Shanghai: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1933), 58.
81. Originally published together with another twelve poems in the literary supplement of Huabei ribao 華北日報 (North China daily), June 6–17, 1929. Feng Zhi modified many lines of this poem for his anthology. See “Weisheng” 尾聲 (Epilogue), FZQJ, vol. 1, 175; in this version the lines read “I am like a worm in winter, entering hibernation motionlessly.” Also see He Guimei’s discussion, He Guimei 賀桂梅, Zhuanzhe de shidai; 40-50 niandai zuojia yanjiu 轉折的時代： 40-50 年代作家研究 (A time of transitions: a study of Chinese writers in the 1940s–1950s) (Jinan: Shandong jiaoyu chubanshe, 2003), 147.
82. Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, 120.
83. Feng Zhi, “Lierke—wei shizhounian jiri zuo” 里爾克——為十周年祭日作 (Rilke—on the tenth anniversary of his passing away), FZQJ, vol. 4, 83. Lu Yaodong points out that the year 1926, which Feng Zhi put down in the essay as the time of his first encounter with Rilke’s works, may have been incorrect. See her argument in Feng Zhi zhuan, 120.
84. Feng Zhi, letter to Bauer dated December 31, 1931, FZQJ, vol. 12, 152–153.
85. Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, 112–113, 121; Zhou Mian 周棉, Feng Zhi zhuan (Biography of Feng Zhi) (Xuzhou: Jiangsu wenyi chubanshe, 1993), 164–165.
86. Feng Zhi, “Lierke—wei shizhounian jiri zuo,” 84.
87. Feng Zhi, “Lierke—wei shizhounian jiri zuo,” 86. The statement about poetry being distilled from experiences, not from emotions, is from Rilke’s novel Aufzeichnung des Malte Laurids Brigges (Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, 1910). Feng translated a small selection of it, published in 1932. Later in 1994, when the booklet Letters to a Young Poet was republished, Feng added his selected translation of Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge as appendix 2. In FZQJ, vol. 11, 331.
88. Feng Zhi, “A Letter to Bauer” July, 1932, FZQJ, vol.12, 162.
89. Feng Zhi, letter to Bauer dated late 1934, FZQJ, vol. 12, 188. In his early writings, Feng Zhi translated this notion into “death and change.” However, in the original German, werde means vollenden (to fulfill, to become). Feng realized his (unconscious) mistake later in the 1980s when he resumed Goethe studies. See Xiaojue Wang’s discussion in Modernity with a Cold War Face, chapter 5.
90. Goethe, “Selige Sehnsucht” (Blessed yearning), in Goethe’s Collected Works, 12 volumes, vol. 1, Selected Poems, ed. Christopher Middleton (Cambridge, Mass.: Suhrkamp/Insel Publishers Boston, 1983), 207.
91. Feng Zhi, letter to Bauer dated June 1934, FZQJ, vol. 12, 181.
92. Feng Zhi’s “Wumian de yeban” 無眠的夜半 (Sleepless midnight, 1933), one of the very few poems he wrote in the thirties, bears an image of the molting of the autumn cicada; see FZQJ, vol. 2, 156.
I cannot help following him on the road,
he urges me to get up quick
from this neat, empty bed of sleeplessness.
He says, you have yet to walk thousands of miles,
leaving this endless night forever,
like an autumn cicada shedding its shell.
93. Feng Zhi, “Wohe shisihangshi de yinyuan” 我和十四行詩的因緣 (My destined relationship with the sonnet), FZQJ, vol. 5, 94. “I have noticed the difference between the sonnet and other lyrical forms.… It is structured to have ups and downs, intensity and relaxation, expectation and response, presupposition and resolution, and has a regulated rhyme scheme and set numbers of meters. It grants the author the convenience to transform subjective life experience into objective reason.” Formally, Feng takes Rilke’s Sonnets to Orpheus as his model while making free adaptations in light of the Shakespearean and Petrachean formats. Feng Zhi, preface to Shisihang ji 十四行集, (Sonnets), FZQJ, vol. 1, 214. See Dominique Cheung’s discussion in Feng Zhi (Boston: Twayne, 1979), 41–46; Feng Zhi, 91–98.
94. Feng Zhi, Sonnet 13, “Goethe” 歌德，FZQJ, vol. 1, 228; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 83, with modifications.
95. See, for instance, Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, chapter 19; Zhang Hui, Zhongguo shishi chuantong, chapter 4; also see Cheung, Feng Zhi, chapter 3.
96. Feng Zhi, “Shenme nengcong women shenshang tuoluo” 什麽能從我們身上脫落 (What falls from our bodies), FZQJ, vol. 1, 217; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 79.
97. Feng Zhi, “Youjiali shu” 有加利樹 (Eucalyptus tree), FZQJ, vol. 1, 218; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 79.
98. Feng Zhi, “Shuqucao” 鼠曲草 (Edelweiss), FZQJ, vol. 1, 219; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 79–80.
99. Feng Zhi, “Women zhunbei zhe” 我們準備著 (We are ready), FZQJ, vol. 1, 216–217; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 78.
100. Feng Zhi, “Cong yipian fanlan wuxing de shuili” 從一片汎濫無形的水裏 (From a flow of the shapeless water), FZQJ, vol. 1, 242; Cheung, Feng Zhi, 87.
101. Xiaojue Wang, “Fashioning Socialist Affinity: Feng Zhi and the Legacy of European Humanism in Modern Chinese Poetry,” Modernity with a Cold War Face, 273–276.
102. Feng Zhi, “Kan zhe yiduiduide tuoma” 看這一隊隊的馱馬 (Look! Caravans of loaded horses), FZQJ, vol. 1, 230.
103. Zhang Hui, Zhongguo shishi chuantong, 80–81.
104. Feng Zhi, “Lun Gede de huigu, shuoming yu buchong” 論歌德的回顧，説明，與補充 (“On Goethe”: review, clarification, and supplementary comments), FZQJ, vol. 8, 6.
105. Vernon Pratt and Isis Brook, “Goethe’s Archetype and the Romantic Concept of the Self,” Studies in History and Philosophy of Science 27, no. 3 (1996): 351–365.
106. Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet, trans. and with a foreword by Stephen Mitchell (New York: Random House, 1984), 39.
108. Feng Zhi, “Lungede de huigu, shuoming yu buchong,” 6. Zhang Kuan 張寬, “Lun Feng Zhi shizuo de wailaiyingxiang yu minzuchuantong” 論馮至詩作的外來影響與民族傳統 (On the foreign influences and indigenous tradition in Feng Zhi’s poetic works), in Feng Yaoping 馮姚平, ed., Feng Zhi yue tade shijie 馮至與他的世界 (Feng Zhi and his world) (Shijiazhuang: Hebei jiaoyu chubanshe, 2001), 86–106, particularly 98–99; Han Mu 韓牧, “Feng Zhi shizhong de gede sixiang” 馮至詩中的歌德思想 (Goethean thought in Feng Zhi’s poem), in Feng Yaoping, Feng Zhi he tade shijie, 143, 146; He Guimei, Zhuanzhe de shidai, 159. This makes Feng Zhi’s praise for the Chinese models such as Du Fu, Lu Xun, and Cai Yuanpen in Sonnets particularly interesting. Xie Zhixi, Meide pianzhi, 362.
109. Li Xueqin 李學勤, ed., Zhouyi zhengyi 周易正義 (Annotated Zhouyi) (Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe, 1999), 10. See Zhang Hui’s discussion, Zhongguo shishi chuantong, 115.
110. First inspired by Rilke’s Lay of the Love and Death of Cornet Christopher Rilke, the idea of writing Wu Xixu was in Feng Zhi’s mind for more than sixteen years before it came to fruition. In FZQJ, vol. 3, 426–427. For a detailed account of the story of Wu Zixu, see the biography of Wu Zixu in Shi maqian 司馬遷, Shiji 史記 (Records of the grand historian) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1959), vol. 66, 2171–2183.
111. He Guimei, Zhuanzhe de shidai, 179–180. Feng Zhi’s old friend Li Guangtian compares his Sonnets with He Qifang’s Painted Dreams.
112. Feng Zhi, “Wu Zixu,” FZQJ, vol. 3, 425.
113. Feng Zhi, “Wu Zixu” 伍子胥, FZQJ, vol. 3, 398. At the end of the story, Wu Zixu appears as a flute player. Feng Zhi calls this new personality a jiren 畸人 or stranger, in the wake of his treatment of Dostoevsky, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche as three strangers a year before.
114. Tang Shi 唐湜 “Feng Zhi de Wu Zixu” 馮至的伍子胥 (Feng Zhi’s Wu Zixu), Xin yiduji 新意度集 (A new collection of contemplations) (Beijing: Sanlian shudian, 1990), 49. See He Guimei’s discussion, Zhuanzhe de shidai, 179–180.
115. Goethe, Faust I & II, in Goethe’s Collected Works, 12 volumes, vol. 2, ed. & trans. Stuart Atkins (Cambridge, Mass.: Suhrkamp/Insel Publishers Boston, 1984), Act II, lines 7830–8487.
116. Feng Zhi, “Lun Fushide li de renzaoren: luelun Gede de ziran zhexue” 論《浮士德》裏的人造人：略論歌德的自然哲學 (The homunculus in Faust: on Goethe’s natural science), FZQJ, vol. 8, 46–59. The article was based on a lecture Feng Zhi gave in Kunming in 1944. Between 1941 and 1947, Feng Zhi wrote five articles on Goethe, which constitute the first volume of his work Lun Gede 論歌德 (On Goethe) published in 1985. Volume two of the book comprises articles on Goethe Feng Zhi wrote after the 1980s.
117. Feng Zhi discusses an ideal New Man after the model of Goethe in “Gede yu rende jiaoyu” 歌德與人的教育 (Gede and the education of human), FZQJ, vol. 8, 86.
118. Together with like-minded friends and colleagues, Feng Zhi founded the “New Third Front” (Xin disan fangmian 新第三方面) on March 1, 1948, a campaign that was quickly involved in murky Party politics and unltimately a failure. See Zhou Mian, Feng Zhi zhuan, 264.
119. See Zhou Liangpei, Feng Zhi pingzhuan 馮至評傳 (A critical biography of Feng Zhi) (Chongqing: Chongqing chubanshe, 2001), 487. In a dialogue between Feng Zhi and his old friend Shen Congwen at a public forum on November 17, 1948, Shen Congwen reportedly invoked the metaphor of traffic lights:
SHEN: A driver is obliged to obey the policeman’s instructions. But can he ignore traffic lights?
FENG: Traffic lights are a good thing; it is wrong to ignore them.
SHEN: But what if someone wants to manipulate the lights?
FENG: One has to watch the lights as long as one is walking on the road.
SHEN: Maybe there are people who think one may walk better without traffic lights.… Literature is of course supposed to be subject to political confinement. But can one still reserve a little bit of right to correction and modification? … On the one hand, there is the rule of traffic lights; on the other hand, one still wants to walk his own way.
Feng: This should be considered indeed. One always has to make a decision. Life becomes meaningful only when one is willing to make decision. A writer cannot succeed without centered thought.
“Jinri wenxuede fangxiang” 今日文學的方向 (The direction of literature today), in Xingqi wenyi (Literature weekly), 107, Dagongbao, November 14, 1948. Quoted from He Guimei, Zhuanzhe de shidai, 90–91. The two writers are concerned with the antinomy of creative freedom versus social(ist) hegemony symbolized by traffic lights. For Shen Congwen, a writer’s autonomy should be honored—at least to a certain extent—even if political order and national unity are at stake. Feng Zhi’s reaction is more ambiguous. Instead of answering Shen’s question directly, he prioritizes the need for “decision” and “centered thought” in the midst of national crisis, thus recapturing a Goethean posture. He did not make clear at the forum that he had made his decision. Shen Congwen, as discussed in the previous chapter, suffered from a nervous breakdown at the time and almost killed himself in the spring of 1949. See Xiaojue Wang’s discussion, “Fragments of Modernity: Shen Congwen’s Journey from Asylum to Museum,” Modernity with a Cold War Face, chapter 2, 54–107.
120. Feng Zhi, “Xieyu wendaihui kaihuiqian” 寫於文代會開會前 (Written before the opening of the first conference of national writers’ and art workers’ representatives); quoted from Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, 229–230.
121. Xie Mian 謝冕, “Weile yige mengxiang” 爲了一個夢想 (For the sake of a dream), in Bainian zhongguo xinshi shilun: zhongguo xinshi zongxi daoyanji 百年中國新詩史論：中國新詩總系導言集 (A centennial review of modern Chinese poetry: a collection of the prefaces to the compendium of modern Chinese poetry) (Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe, 2010), 169–185; Hong Zicheng 洪子程 Zhongguo dangdai wenxueshi 中國當代文學史 (A history of contemporary Chinese literature) (Beijing: Beijng daxue chubanshe, 1999),74; Li Yang 李揚, Kangzheng suming zhilu: shehui zhuyi xianshi zhuyi yanjiu, 1942–1976 抗爭宿命之路：社會主義現實主義研究 1942–1976 (Changchun: Shidai wenyi chubanshe, 1993), 145–254; Wang Guangming 王光明, “Wuliushi niandai de shige, sanwen, yujuzuo” 五六十年代的詩歌，散文，與劇作 (Poetry, prose, and drama in the 1950s and 1960s), in Yan Jiayan 嚴家炎, ed., Ershi shiji Zhongguo wenxueshi 二十世紀中國文學史 (A history of twentieth-century Chinese literature), volume 3 (Beijing: Gaodeng jiaoyu chubanshe, 2010), chapter 22, particularly section 4.
122. Shixuan 詩選 (Poetry anthology) anthologizes poems produced between 1953 and 1956; Yuan wrote this preface in 1956. Quoted from Xie Mian, “Weile yige mengxiang,” 174; also see Wang Guangming, in Yan Jiayan, ed., Ershi shiji Zhongguo wenxueshi, vol. 3, 24–25.
123. He Jingzhi’s 賀敬之 comment made as late as the end of the Cultural Revolution; quoted from Xie Mian, “Weile yige mengxiang,” 174.
124. For a detailed account of He Qifang’s activities in the fifties, see He Zhongming, Yinya de yeying, chapter 9; Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, chapter 4.
125. See Zhang Hui’s criticism, Zhongguo shishi chuantong, chapter 6.
126. Feng Zhi, “Wo de ganxie Mao zhuxi” 我的感謝 (My thanks), FZQJ, vol. 2, 50–52.
127. He Qifang, “Huida” 回答 (Response), HQQJ, vol. 6, 3–4.
128. I am referring to David Apter and Tony Saich’s argument in Revolutionary Discourse in Mao’s Republic (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1994), 263.
129. Mao Zedong described He Qifang as a person with a greater “willowlike” propensity in January 1945, insinuating that he lacked a strong, determined capacity to withstand challenges. See He Qifang, “Mao Zedong zhige,” 375.
130. Eighteen of Mao’s classical style poems are featured in the inaugural issue of 詩刊 (Poetry), a poetry journal founded in response to Mao’s “Hundred Flowers” movement. See Xie Mian, “Weile yige mengxiang,” 178, note 3.
131. The New Folksong Movement was launched in April 1958. It resulted in hundreds and thousands of new folksongs allegedly being spontaneously created by Chinese people; it culminated in the publication of Hongqi geyao 紅旗歌謠 (Red banner ballad), coedited by Guo Moruo and Zhou Yang, in September 1959. See Xie Mian, “Weile yige mengxiang,” 182–184; Wang Guangming, in Yan Jiayan, ed., Ershi shiji Zhongguo wenxueshi, vol. 3, 42–43. Both He Qifang and Feng Zhi understandably supported the New Folksong Movement. See He Qifang, “Zaitan shige xingshi wenti” 再談詩歌形式問題 (A second discussion of the problem of the form of poetry), HQQJ, vol. 5, 139–180; Feng Zhi, “Xinshi de xingshi wenti” 新詩的形式問題 (The problem of form of new poetry), FZQJ, vol. 6, 325–333.
132. He Qifang, diary entry dated “Morning, September 11, 1956,” HQQJ, vol. 8, 453–454.
133. He Qifang, “Gei Ai Qing xiansheng de yifengxin” 給艾青先生的一封信 (A letter to Mr. Ai Qing), HQQJ, vol. 6, 470; see Zhao Siyun, He Qifang renge jiema, 57.
134. See Feng Zhi, “Lun Ai Qing de shi” 論艾青的詩 (On Ai Qing’s poetry), FZQJ, vol. 6, 289–316; also “Bo Ai Qing de ‘liaojie zuojia, zunzhong zuojia’” 駁艾青的了解作家，尊重作家 (A rebuttal to Ai Qing’s “understand writers; respect writers”), Wenyibao 文藝報 (Literature and the arts biweekly) quoted from Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhizhuan, 234–235; “Cong youpai fenzi qiequ de yizhong wuqi tanqi” 從右派份子竊取的一種武器談起 (On a kind of weapon stolen by the rightists and others), Renmin ribao 人民日報 (People’s daily), November 2, 1958.
135. He Qifang, Shige xinshang (Reading poetry), HQQJ, vol. 4, 429–433.
137. He Qifang, Shige xinshang, 433.
138. Feng Zhi, “Nanfang de ye” 南方的夜 (The night of the south), FZQJ, vol. 1, 203.
139. The title of Feng Zhi’s first poetry collection published in 1927.
140. Feng Zhi, “Zaiwomen de guojiali” 在我們的國家裏 (In our nation), FZQJ, vol. 2, 312.
141. See, for instance, Xu Fancheng 徐梵澄, “Qiufeng huaiguren: dao Feng Zhi” 秋風懷故人: 悼馮至 (In memory of Feng Zhi), in Feng Yaoping, Feng Zhi he tade shijie, 380–390.
142. Feng Zhi, “Jiaoyu” 教育 (Education), FZQJ, vol. 4, 65.
143. Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (New York: Penguin, 1994). It is in this context that Tang Shi’s 1943 criticism, that Feng’s Wu Zixu is comparable with He Qifang’s Painted Dreams, makes a belated, poignant sense. One cannot but suspect that in his “painted (red) dreams,” Feng Zhi may have enacted a phantasmagoria through which Goethean metamorphosis helps substantiate the Maoist theory of contradiction and continued revolution, and Rilke’s “endurance and work” as well as Goethe’s “resolution” are drawn to justify the fatal stoicism in collective campaigns such as the Great Leap Forward.
144. He Qifang was severely persecuted during the Cultural Revolution; he was sent down to a cadre school in Henan in 1969 and discharged in 1972. See He Zhongming, Yinya de yeying, chapter 11. Feng Zhi lived under the threat of constant public humiliation and confiscation of his writings between June 1966 and July 12, 1970; he was “sent down” to participate in labor and reeducation in Henan Province in July 1970 and was allowed to return to Beijing on March 13, 1972. See Lu Yaodong, Feng Zhi zhuan, 254–259.
145. He Qifang, “Womengjian” 我夢見 (I dreamed of), HQQJ, vol. 6, 80.
146. Li Shangyin 李商隱, Yu xisheng shiji jianzhu 玉谿生詩集箋注 (Annotated works by Li Shangyin), annotated by Feng Hao 馮浩 (Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 1998), vol. 2, 493.
147. He Qifang, HQQJ, vol. 6, 164. He is clearly following Li Shangyin’s poem.
148. Feng Zhi, “Xijian” 喜見 (A pleasant prospect), FZQJ, vol. 2, 208.
149. Feng Zhi, “Wotongku” 我痛苦 (I am in pain), FZQJ, vol. 2, 271.
150. Feng Zhi, “Shenian jixing” 蛇年即興 (Thought occasioned by the year of the snake), FZQJ, vol. 2, 287.
151. Feng Zhi, Ye II 夜 II (Night II), FZQJ, vol. 1, 324.
4. A Lyricism of Betrayal: The Enigma of Hu Lancheng
1. There are numerous accounts of the romance between Hu Lancheng and Eileen Chang. For a recent reference, see Zhang Guihua 張桂華, Hu Lancheng zhuan 胡蘭成傳 (A biography of Hu Lancheng) (Taipei: Ziyou wenhua, 2007), chapter 10.
2. There are different stories about Hu Lanchang’s marital record. Some biographers maintain that Hu was twice divorced and merely living with a woman when he met Eileen Chang.
4. Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments, trans. Richard Howard (New York: Hill and Wang, 1979).
5. The performative aspect of lyricism, of course, has long been noticed and studied by scholars. See, for instance, Stephen Owen’s seminal article, “The Self’s Perfect Mirror: Poetry as Autobiography,” in Shuen-fu Lin and Stephen Owen, eds., The Vitality of the Lyrical Voice: Shih Poetry from the Late Han to the T’ang (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986), 71–102. See also Cheng Yu-yu’s 鄭毓瑜 study of the persona issue in the Songs of the South and the fu (rhapsody) discourse, in Xingbie yu jiayuan: hanjin cifu de chusao lunshu 性別與家國：漢晉辭賦的楚騷論述 (Gender and national representation: the discourse of the Songs of the South as manifested in the rhapsody and other literary expressions of the Han and Jin) (Taipei: Liren shuwu, 1990), chapter 1; Mei Chia-ling 梅家玲, Hanwei liuchao wenxue xinlun: nidai yu zengda pian 漢魏六朝文學新論—擬代與贈答篇 (A new approach to Han-Wei and Six Dynasties literature: impersonation and reciprocal correspondence) (Beijing: Beijing University Press, 2004). In Western theoretical discourse, Northrop Frye once noted that lyrical poets share some connection with writers of irony, in that they (supposedly) turn their backs on their audiences in a rhetorical gesture and play with the literal and intended level of meaning, with objects and their literary signs. See Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (New York: Atheneum, 1968), 271–272; 285–289; 321–324.
6. Hu Lancheng studies has become a scholarly subject only in recent years. See, for example, Xue Renming 薛仁明, Hu Lancheng: tiandi zhishi 胡蘭成：天地之始 (Hu Lancheng: the beginning of heaven and earth) (Taipei: Ruguo chubanshe, 2010). Also see Li Huabiao’s 黎華標 collection of his correspondence with Hu Lancheng in the 1960s and 1970s, in Yiyou weijin: Hu Lancheng shuxin ji 意有未盡：胡蘭成書信集 (Everlasting thought: Hu Lancheng’s letters) (Taipei: Xinjingdian chubanshe, 2011). Xue Renming, ed., Tianxiashi youweiwan: Hu Lancheng zhi Tang Junyi shu bashiqi feng 天下事，猶未晚:胡蘭成致唐君毅書八十七封 (It is not too late to engage the world: eighty-seven letters to Tang Junyi by Hu Lancheng) (Taipei: Erya chubanse, 2011).
7. Hu Lancheng, “Gei qingnian” 給青年 (To youth), in Chen Zishan 陳子善, ed., Luanshi wentan 亂世文談 (Literary discourse in a time of chaos) (Hong Kong: Tiandi tushu, 2007), 218.
8. Hu Lancheng, “Gei qingnian.” It should be noted that Hu Lancheng seemed unaware of the complex implications of geming or revolution as developed since the turn of the twentieth century. Given his intellectual background, he may well have identified his understanding of geming with its role in traditional Chinese discourse, though he welcomed the modern Western notions of revolution. As Chen Jianhua and many others have pointed out, the Chinese expression geming has its own etymological lineage, traceable as far back as the classic the I-jing 易經 (The book of change). In that context, revolution refers to change that takes place in accordance with both the mandate of Heaven and the will of the people; more importantly, it indicates a cyclical program of time comparable to seasonal change. In other words, revolution thus defined takes on preordained dimensions in cosmic, natural, and human senses, a far cry from the Western definition we understand today. See Chen’s book, Geming de xiandaixing: Zhongguo geming huayu kaolun 革命的現代性：中國革命話語考論 (The modernity of “revolution”: a study of modern Chinese revolutionary discourse) (Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2000), particularly chapter 1.
9. For studies of Wang Jingwei and the rise and fall of his puppet regime, see Zhu Zijia 朱子家， Wangwei zhengquan de kaichang yu shouchang 汪僞政權的開場與收場 (The rise and fall of the Wang Jingwei regime) (Hong Kong: Chunqiu chubanshe, 1960); Wang Kewen 王克文, Wang Jingwei, Guomindang, Nanjing zhengquan 汪精衛，國民黨，南京政權 (Wang Jingwei, the Nationalist Party, the Nanjing regime) (Taipei: Guoshiguan, 2001); Qian jin 錢進 and Han Wenning 韓文寧, Weifu qunjian 偽府群奸：汪精衛幕府 (A puppet regime and a gathering of traitors) (Changsha: Yuelu chubanshe, 2002).
10. Hu Lancheng, “Zhongguo wenming yu shijie wenyi fuxing” 中國文明與世界文藝復興 (Chinese civilization and world renaissance), Luanshi wentan, 201. “使千萬人起來革命的是人類的大的感情，人生的愛悅.”
11. Hu Lancheng, “Gei qingnian,” 220. “革命者不投降，不做小打算，那時從人生的堅貞的感情裏發出來的.”
12. Hu Lancheng, “Gei qingnian,” 216. “這樣的夜，連溪水的潺潺都是有情有義的.”
14. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi 今生今世 (This life, this world) (Taipei: Yuajing chubanshe, 2004), 133–135; Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, 32–35.
15. Hu is said to have published a collection of essays titled Xijiang shang 西江上 (On the west river) when teaching in Guangxi. The collection is no longer available.
16. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 165–166; Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, 70–71.
17. Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, 72–76.
18. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 177.
19. Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, chapters 6 and 7.
20. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 260–279; Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, chapter 9.
21. For discussions of Chinese collaborators, see Nicole Huang, Women, War, Domesticity: Shanghai Literature and Popular Culture of the 1940s (Leiden: Brill, 2005), chapter 1; Norman Smith, Resisting Manchukuo: Chinese Women Writers and the Japanese Occupation (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007), introduction and chapter 1; John Hunter Boyle, China and Japan at War, 1937–1949: The Politics of Collaboration (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1972); Edward Gunn, Unwelcome Muse: Chinese Literature in Shanghai and Peking, 1937–1945 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1980); Leo Ching, Becoming Japanese: Colonial Taiwan and the Politics of Identity Formation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); Prasenjit Duara, Sovereignty and Authenticity: Manchukuo and the East Asian Modern (Lanham, Md.: Rowman and Littlefield, 2005); Poshek Fu, Passivity, Resistance, and Collaboration: Intellectual Choices in Occupied Shanghai, 1937–1945 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993).
22. David Barrett, “Introduction: Occupied China and the Limits of Accommodation,” in David Barrett and Larry N. Shyu, eds., Chinese Collaboration with Japan, 1937–1945: The Limits of Accommodation (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001), 17, 8.
23. Timothy Brook, Collaboration: Japanese Agents and Local Elites in Wartime China (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2005), 26; see 4, 7.
24. Keith Schoppa, “Patterns and Dynamics of Elite Collaboration in Occupied Shaoxing County,” in Barrett and Shyu, eds., Chinese Collaboration with Japan, 1937–1945, 178.
25. Margherita Zanasi argues that Wang Jingwei and Chiang Kai-shek had two competing visions of how to ensure China’s future in Saving the Nation: Economic Modernity in Republican China (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006). John Hunter Boyle argues that Wang Jingwei was a patriot whose downfall came from his inability to manipulate the Japanese in China and Japan at War, 1937–1945: The Politics of Collaboration (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1972).
26. Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe, 1939–1945, trans. J. Maxwell Brownjohn (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979), 11.
27. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 127.
28. Hu Lancheng, “Weming de chuantong” 文明的傳統 (The tradition of civilization), Luanshi wentan, 180.
29. For more discussion of the thought of Liang Shuming, see, for example, Alitto Guy, The Last Confucian: Liang Shu-ming and the Chinese Dilemma of Modernity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986).
30. Hu Lancheng, “Wenming de chuantong,” 179.
31. Hu Lancheng, “Wenming de chuantong,” 184. “我所謂的神意，只是東方人那種千年萬代的感情，在人生的大安穩裏有一種約制的美。”
34. See Kim-chu Ng 黃錦樹, “Shuqing chuantong yu xiandaixing: chuantong zhi faming, huo chuangzaoxing de zhuanhua” 抒情傳統與現代性：傳統之發明，或創造性的轉化 (Lyrical tradition and modernity: an invention or a creative transformation of tradition) Zhongwai wenxue 中外文學 (Zhongwai literature) 2 (2005): 178–182.
35. Sun Yat-sen presented his address on “pan-Asianism” at Kobe Women’s College before the Kobe Chamber of Commerce on November 28, 1924. For a recent discussion of Sun Yat-sen’s concept, see Chun-chieh Huang, “Dr. Sun Yat-sen’s Pan-Asianism Revisited: Its Historical Context and Contemporary Relevance,” Journal of Cultural Interaction in East Asia 3 (2012): 69–74; also see Sun Yat-sen, “Pan-Asianism,” http://www.asianintegration.com/Publications/Articles/Others/PanAsianism%20by%20Sun%20Yat-Sen.html.
36. For a critique of the fascist thought of Eliot, Pound, and de Man, see Paul Morrison, The Poetics of Fascism: Ezra Pound, T. S. Eliot, Paul de Man (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996).
37. For a recent study of Japanese fascism and aesthetics, see Alan Tansman, The Aesthetics of Japanese Fascism (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009). Judging by the extant archival record, Hu Lancheng was not too familiar with Japanese fascist aesthetics before and during wartime despite his praise for the beauty of Japanese civilization. He became related to the rightist camp of Japanese literati and intellectuals after his exile to Japan in 1950.
38. Hu Lancheng, “Zhongguo wenming yu shijie wenyi fuxing,” Luanshi wentan, 186.
41. C. T. Hsia, “Obsession with China,” appendix, A History of Modern Chinese Fiction.
42. Hu Lancheng, “Zhongguo wenming yu shijie wenyi fuxing,” 205.
43. Hu Lancheng, “Gei qingnian,” 222. “這個時代辜負了胡蘭成，胡蘭成也辜負了這個時代.”
44. Zhang Guihua, Hu Lancheng zhuan, 254–257.
45. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue 山河歲月 (China through time) (Taipei: Sansan shufang, 1990), 50.
46. For Hu, this system is traceable to the origin of Chinese history, when Chinese were already able to configure a social-political relationship by dividing a piece of land into nine parts, with the center dedicated to the lord and the surrounding eight parts owned by individual families. See Shanhe suiyue, 94.
47. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 15.
48. Liu Zheng 劉錚, “Du Hu Lancheng Zhongguo xiangdang zhidu yangekao” 讀胡蘭成中國鄉黨制度沿革考 (Reading Hu Lancheng’s study of the rural communal system of China), originally published in Wanxiang 萬象 (Panorama) 9 (2004); http://www.douban.com/group/topic/2483245/.
49. Hu Lancheng, “Zhongguo xiangdang zhidu yangekao” 中國鄉黨制度沿革考 (A study of the rural communal system of China). The article was originally published in the inaugural issue of Zhengzhi xuekan 政治學刊 (Bulletin of political science), Kwang-hwa University, Shanghai, October 1929. http://www.douban.com/group/topic/30223292/.
50. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 87. “井田從敦睦九族推廣到平章百姓，又推到協和萬邦，如此便作成’邦内甸伏，邦外侯服，侯衛賓服，夷蠻要服，戎狄荒服’的天下世界.”
51. Hanshu 漢書 (Book of Han), Yiwenzhi 藝文志, juan 30.
52. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 97.
54. For a study of the modern interpretations of “xing,” see my chapter “‘Youqing’ de lishi: ‘shuqing’ chuantong yu zhongguo wenxue xiandaixing” “有情”的歷史: “抒情”傳統與中國文學現代性 (A history that carries feeling: lyrical tradition and Chinese literary modernity), in Xiandai shuqing chuantong silun 現代抒情傳統四論 (Modern Chinese lyrical tradition: four essays) (Taipei: National Taiwan University Press, 2011), chapter 1, particularly section 3. Also see my discussion on Chen Shih-hsiang in the introduction.
55. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 102.
56. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 78, 79. “新史學是寫古時的事亦只如寫的現在，寫的自己，因爲人生是生於一個時代而同時亦生於許多個時代。” “是故良史又忘其為史.”
57. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 74. “中國真如章實齋說的六經皆史，而亦皆是詩.”
58. D. C. Lau, trans., Mencius (New York: Penguin, 1970), 131.
59. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 126, 78.
60. Hu Lancheng, Zhongguo de liyue fengjing 中國的禮樂風景 (The vista of Chinese ritual and music) (臺北：遠流出版社，1991), 157. “惟中國的革命是興.”
61. “好天氣，好風景” and “日月山川” are Hu Lancheng’s favorite phrases. They appear frequently in his books.
62. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 192. “中華民族並且還有心情開別人和自己的玩笑，把驚險的場面也作成了是驚艷，千劫如花，開出太平軍起義，辛亥革命，五四運動與北伐抗戰及解放.”
63. Hannah Arendt, On Revolution (London: Penguin, 1965), 46. See James Miller, “The Pathos of Novelty: Hannah Arendt’s Image of Freedom in the Modern World” in Melvyn Hill, ed., Hannah Arendt: The Recovery of the Public World (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1979), 177–208.
64. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 239–240. “其實抗戰的戰術戰略便真是禮樂…彼時淪陷區的中國人與日本人照樣往來，明明是仇敵，亦恩仇之外還有人與人的相見…中國人卻是可以為善可以無方。而戰區與大後方的人亦不尅定日子要勝利，悲壯的話只管說，但說的人亦明知自己是假的.”
65. Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World, trans. Helene Iswolsky (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1968).
66. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 243. “抗戰時期的好天氣好情懷，還見於淪陷區與大後方的到處歌舞，在淪陷區是忽然流行起越劇，在大後方是復興了中原的迎神賽會扮臺閣，而且傳來了西北高原的土風舞與民謠.”
67. Hu Lancheng, Shanhe suiyue, 253. “[解放軍]與中國歷朝民間起兵的傳統相接，它原來不靠主義，而是民間的大志蕩蕩莫能名，遂夾遍地的秧歌舞而來了.”
68. See my discussion in Fin-de-siècle Splendor: Repressed Modernities of Late Qing Fiction, 1849–1911 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), chapter 4.
69. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 647. One should pay particular attention to Hu Lancheng’s notion of “ji” 機, which has the meanings of timing, contingency, and change. Hu noted that “Buddhism seeks the lesson of gratuitousness in the calamities and destructions of humanity while Christianity dwells on the vision of eschatology. Only Chinese Daoism in the vein of Zhuangi discovers the changing and intertwining relationship between accomplishment and destruction—an awareness of ji” (佛教以劫毀為無常，基督教更説是世界末日，唯中國之莊子知成毀為一體之機.). See “Jilun” 機論 (A theory of timing), in Geming yaoshi yu xuewen 革命要詩與學問 (Revolution and the cause of poetry and scholarship) (Taipei: Yuanliu chubanshe, 1991), 225–286. Also see “Huanglao pian” 黃老篇 (On Laozi and the Yellow Emperor) in the same volume.
70. See my discussion in “Three Hungry Women,” in The Monster That Is History: History, Violence, and Fictional Writing in Twentieth-Century China (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004), chapter 4.
71. Anson Rabinbach, In the Shadow of Catastrophe: German Intellectuals Between Apocalypse and Enlightenment (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), 6.
74. Hu Lancheng, Zhongguo de liyue fengjing, 129. “興並非只在音樂，文章有興，此即是音樂的了，做事有興，此即是音樂的了，寧是音樂在於寓物之興…大自然的意志之動為興，大自然的意志賦予萬物，故萬物亦皆可有興。詩人言山川有嘉氣，王氣者言東南有王氣，此即是興…興自於天，是生發的，向著未知的，隨息之舒展之波而生出調來.”
75. Paul de Man, “Lyric and Modernity” and “Literary History and Literary Modernity,” in Blindness and Insight (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971), 166–186, 142–165.
76. De Man, “Literary History and Literary Modernity,” 164–165.
78. See Christopher Norris, Paul de Man: Deconstruction and the Critique of Aesthetic Ideology (New York: Routledge, 1988), chapter 7.
79. De Man, “Literary History and Literary Modernity,” 164–165. See Dieter Freundlieb, “Paul de Man’s Postwar Criticism: The Pre-Deconstructionist Phase,” Neophilologus 81 (1997): 165–186.
80. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 628. “甚至毛澤東一幫共產黨殺人已達千萬以上，我亦不眨眼，原來不殺無辜是人道，多殺無辜是天道，我不能比毛澤東仁慈.” See Kim-chu Ng’s succinct discussion in “Hu Lancheng yu xinrujia: zhaiwu guanxi, hufa zhaohun yu liyue gexin xinjiuan” 胡蘭成與新儒家──債務關係、護法招魂與禮樂革命新怪案 (Hu Lancheng and Neo-Confucians: relationship of indebtedness, guarding the orthodoxy and calling for the dead, and the new and old projects of revolution through ritual and music), in Wen yu hun yu ti: lun xiandai zhongguoxing 文與魂與體:論現代中國性 (Literature, soul, and body: on Chinese modernity) (Taipei: Ryefield, 2006), 155–85.
81. See Dieter Freundlieb’s discussion in “Paul de Man’s Postwar Criticism.”
82. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 273–274. “張愛玲的頂天立地，世界都要起六種震動.”
83. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 275. “我向來與人也不比，也不鬪，如今見了張愛玲卻要比鬪起來。但我使盡武器，還不及她的只是素手.”
84. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 278. “我給愛玲看我的論文，她卻説這樣體系嚴密，不如解散的好，我亦果然把來解散了，驅使萬物如軍隊，原來不如讓萬物解甲歸田，一路有言笑.”
85. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 286. “願使歲月靜好，現世安穩.”
86. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 21. “我不但對於故鄉是蕩子，對於歲月亦是蕩子.”
87. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 53. “我父親與民國世界即是這樣的相悅.”
88. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 57.
89. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 53. “自古江山如美人，她亦只嫁與蕩子.”
90. Susan Daruvala, Zhou Zuoren and an Alternative Chinese Response to Modernity (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard East Asia Center, 2000), especially chapter 5; Poshek Fu, Passivity, Resistance, and Collaboration, chapter 3.
91. See Kim-chu Ng’s discussion in “Shuqing chuantong yu xiandaixing.”
92. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 412.
94. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 279, 280. “她是陌上遊春賞花，亦不落情緣的一個人.”
98. Wai-yee Li, Enchantment and Disenchantment: Love and Illusion in Chinese Literature (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 207–208.
100. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 431.
101. Ibid., 651. “我爲什麽要念念於政治呢？因爲我是天涯蕩子，不事家人生産作業……天這樣的生了我。因爲當前真是個大時代.”
102. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 180. “單是那天的天氣晴和，胸中雜念都盡，對於世事的是非成敗有一種清潔的態度，下山來我就答應參加了.”
103. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 180. “我與和平運動是一身來，去時亦一身去，大難過去歸了本位，仍是青梗峰下一塊頑石，汪政府在南京建都五年，像一部金陵十二釵的冊子，到此只有碑上的字跡歷歷分明，當年的多少實事虛華，真心假意，好像與我已沒有關係，卻是這些字跡已還給人間，還給天地了.”
104. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 127. “其後我做了時局的弄潮兒，遇到大驚險大困難，每每憂傷憔悴亦像這樣有一半是假的，會得對自己的感情遊戲，纔不致掩臉沉沒.”
105. Kim-chu Ng, “Hu Lancheng yu xinrujia,” 165–185; Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 575.
106. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 647.
107. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 421. “中國人的男歡女悅，夫妻恩愛，則可以是盡心正命。孟子說…’知其性，則知天矣’.”
108. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 446, 556. “情有遷異，緣有盡時, 而相知則可如新.”
109. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 556. “一旦醒悟了，可以永絕情緣。兩人單是個好.”
110. Hu Lancheng became acquainted with Tang Junyi in September 1950. They started to communicate with each other around that time, and their correspondence lasted till late 1974. Eighty-seven letters from Hu to Tang and nineteen letters from Tang to Hu have been preserved, and they provide much valuable information about the relationship between Hu and the Neo-Confucians. See Xue Renming, ed., Tianxiashi youweiwan. Based on their correspondence, it can be assumed that Hu must have written to other leading Confucians at the time, such as Qian Mu 錢穆, Mou Zongsan 牟宗三, and Xu Fuguan 徐復觀. These scholars obviously never responded to Hu as warmly as did Tang Junyi.
111. Tang Junyi, Shengming cunzai yu xinling jingjie: shengming cunzai zhi sanxiang yu xinling jiujing 生命存在與心靈境界：生命存在之三向與心靈九境 (The existence of life and the state of mind: the three directions of the existence of life and the nine states of mind) (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju，1986), vol. 2, 470. For more discussion of Tang Junyi’s philosophy, see Huang Kejian 黃克劍, Bainian xinrulin: dangdai ruxue badajia lunlue 百年新儒林:當代儒學八大家論略 (A century of neo-Confucian studies: a general survey of eight leading Confucian scholars in contemporary China) (Beijing: Zhonguo qingnian chubanshe, 2000), 184.
112. Tang Junyi，Daode ziwo zhijianli 道德自我之建立 (The establishment of moral subjectivity), Tang Junyi quanji 唐君毅全集 (Complete works of Tang Junyi) (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju, 1991), vol. 1, 99.
114. Xu Fuguan 徐復觀, “Chuantong wenxue sixiangzhong shide gexing yu shehui wenti” 傳統文學思想中詩的個性與社會性問題 (The social and individual character of poetry in traditional literary thought), in Zhongguo wenxue lunji 中國文學論集 (Essays on Chinese literature) (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju, 1981), 346.
115. Hu Xiaoming 胡曉明, “Chongjian Zhongguo wenxue de sixiang shijie ruhe keneng?” 重建中國文學的思想世界如何可能？(How is it possible to reconstruct the intellectual world in Chinese literature?), in Shi yu wenhua xinling 詩與文化心靈 (Poetry and literary mind) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2006), 347.
116. A final note about the lyricism of Hu Lancheng’s world. Throughout This Life, This World, Hu Lancheng take pains to craft his image after Jia Baoyu of The Story of the Stone. But at least three times, Hu compares himself to Monkey in Xiyouji 西遊記 (The journey to the west), a creature from another Stone myth. Hu Lancheng, Jinsheng jinshi, 197, 260, 461. Call it a Freudian slip; Hu reveals the hidden nature of this Monkey, best known for his rebellious nature and changeability. Dreaming of being a Jia Baoyu and ending up a Monkey, Hu draws the least expected analogy of his own nature, in the sentimental education of a modern Chinese vagabond.
117. See Zhang Ruifen’s analysis, Hu Lancheng, Zhu Tianwen, yu Sansan: dangdai Taiwan wenxue lunji 胡蘭成, 朱天文，與三三: 當代臺灣文學論集 (Hu Lancheng, Zhu Tianwen, and Sansan: essays on contemporary Taiwan literature) (Taipei: Xiuwei chubanshe, 2007), 1–84. Also see Kim-chu Ng, “Shisu de jiushu: lun Zhangpai zuojia Hu Lancheng de chaoyue zhilu” 世俗的救贖:論張派作家胡蘭成的超越之路 (A secular redemption: on the pilgrimage to transcendence of Hu Lancheng, a writer of the Eileen Chang school) in Wen yu hun yu ti, 129–154.
5. The Lyrical in Epic Time: The Music and Poetry of Jiang Wenye
1. Jiang Wenye’s original name was 江文彬 (Jiang Wenbin). He adopted a Japanese-sounding name, 江文也, sometime after 1932 and spelled it Bunya Koh. This English spelling was used as late as 1936–37, as seen in his works included in the Cherepunin senshū チェレプニン選集 (Tcherepnin Collection). At Tcherepnin’s suggestion, Jiang changed this spelling to the more Chinese-sounding Chiang Wen-yeah around 1938. But this English name has been rarely used. For the sake of consistency with other names and titles in pinyin, this chapter uses Jiang Wenye rather than Chiang Wen-yeah. For more information about Jiang’s names and their spellings, see Wu Lingyi 吳玲宜, “Jiang Wenye shengping yu zuopin” 江文也生平與作品 (The life and works of Jiang Wenye), in Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji 江文也紀念研討會論文集 (A conference volume in memory of Jiang Wenye), ed. Taibei xianli wenhua zhongxin (Cultural Center of Taipei County) (Taipei: Taibei xianli wenhua zhongxin, 1992), 155.
2. For more information about Alexander Tcherepnin in China and Japan, see Chang Chi-jen, “Alexander Tcherepnin: His Influence on Modern Chinese Music,” Ed.D. diss., Columbia University Teachers College, 1983.
3. Jiang Wenye, “From Beijing to Shanghai,” trans. Liu Linyu 劉麟玉, literary supplement, Lianhebao 聯合報 (United daily), July 29, 1995.
4. In July 1937, Jiang Wenye started to publish a series of essays in the magazine Ongaku shinchō 音樂新潮. (New tide music). The quote is from the last piece, titled “Seibo no arutokini” 歳暮の或る時に (A moment at the end of the year), translated into Chinese by Liu Linyu, in Liu, “Riben zhanshi tizhixia de Jiang Wenye: yi 1937–1945 nianjian Jiang Wenye yinyue zuopin yu shiju guanxi weizhongxin” 日本戰時體制下的江文也：以1937–1945年間江文也音樂作品與時局關係為中心 (A preliminary investigation of Jiang Wenye during the Sino-Japanese war: a study of Jiang’s music and the political circumstances during 1937–1945), paper presented at Jiang Wenye xiansheng shishi ershi zhounian jinian xueshu yantaohui 江文也先生逝世二十周年紀念學術研討會 (Academic conference in memory of the twentieth anniversary of Jiang Wenye’s passing away), Institute of Taiwanese History, Academia Sinica, October 24, 2003, 2.
5. Jaroslav Průšek, “Subjectivism and Individualism in Modern Chinese Literature,” in The Lyrical and the Epic, ed. Leo Ou-fan Lee (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1980), 1–28. See my discussion in the introduction.
6. Translated by Stephen Owen, in An Anthology of Classical Chinese Literature (New York: Norton, 1997), 1147.
7. Quoted from Guo Yanli 郭延禮, Zhongguo jindai wenxue fazhanshi 中國近代文學發展史 (A history of early modern Chinese literary development) (Jinan: Shandong jiaoyu chubanshe, 1990), vol. 1, 45.
8. Lu Xun 魯迅, “Yinyue?” 音樂 (Music?) in Jiwai ji 集外集 (A collection outside collection), Lu Xun quanji (Complete works of Lu Xun) (Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe, 1981), vol. 7, 54. Lu Xun wrote the essay in 1924, in response to Xu Zhimo’s critique of modern music.
9. Fei Shi 匪石, “Zhongguo yinyue gailiang shuo” 中國音樂改良說 (A proposal of Chinese music reform), Zhongguo jindai yinyue shiliao: 1840–1919 中國近代音樂史料 1840–1919 (Historical materials on music in early modern China), ed. Zhang Jingwei 張敬蔚 (Beijing: Renmin yinyue chubanshe, 1998), 186–193. The essay originally appeared in Zhejian chao 浙江潮 (Zhejiang tide) in June 1903.
10. For a study of the rise of modern Chinese music, see Xia Yanzhou 夏灧洲, Zhongguo jindai yinyueshi jianbian 中國近代音樂史簡編 (A compact edition of the history of modern Chinese music) (Shanghai: Shanghai yinyue chubanshe, 2004); also see Chen Jianhua 陳建華 and Chen Jie 陳潔, eds., Minguo yinyueshi nianpu 民族音樂史年譜 (A chronology of Chinese ethnomusicology in the Republican era) (Shanghai: Shanghai yinyue chubanshe, 2005); Zhang Jingwei, ed., Zhongguo jindai yinyue shiliao. For a survey of the introduction of Western music to China, see Tao Yabing 陶亞兵, Mingqing jian de zhongxi yinyue jiaoliu 明清間的中西音樂交流 (The interflow of music in Ming and Qing times) (Beijing: Dongfang chubanshe, 2001).
11. For an overview of modern Chinese musicians’ reception of Western-style music and music education, see Su Xia 蘇夏, “Jiang Wenye yu zhongguo dalu de zuoqujie” 江文也與中國大陸的作曲界 (Jiang Wenye and the circle of composition in China), in Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji, 23–30.
12. Su Xia, “Jiang Wenye yu zhongguo dalu de zuoqujie,” 31–36; Xia Yanzhou, Zhongguo jindai yinyueshi jianbian, chapters 4–5.
13. For an overview of Japanese musical circles from the late Meiji era to the time of the rise of Jiang Wenye, see Lin Yingqi 林瑛琪, “Jiafengzhong de wenhuaren: rizhi shiqi Jiang Wenye jiqi shidai yanjiu” 夾縫中的文化人：日治時期江文也及其時代研究 (A literatus trapped by political dilemma: Jiang Wenye during the time of Japanese colonial rule), Ph.D. diss., National Cheng-kung University, Taiwan, 2005, chapter 4.
14. For the rise of Western music in Japan, see Eta Harich-Schnerider, A History of Japanese Music (London: Oxford University Press, 1973), 446–544; also see “Japan,” in Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 6th ed. (London: Macmillan, 1980), 549–555.
15. Mandara no Hana, introduction to Yamada Kōsaku’s Symphony in F major “Triumph and Peace” (Tokyo: Naxos, 2003), 13.
16. John Vinton, ed., “Japan,” Dictionary of Contemporary Music (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1971), 365; Kuo Tzong-kai 郭宗愷, “Jiang Wenye: The Style of His Selected Piano Works and a Study of Music Modernization in Japan and China,” D.M.A. thesis, The Ohio State University, 1987, 41–42.
17. Homi Bhabha, “Introduction: Narrating the Nation,” in Nation and Narration, ed. Homi K. Bhabha (New York: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1990).
18. Jiang Wenye’s reception of Western modernist trends has been discussed by critics coming from various angles. See, for example, Chang Chi-jen 張己任, Jiang Wenye: jingji zhongde gulianhua 荊棘中的孤戀花 (Jiang Wenye: a lonely flower in the midst of thrones) (Taipei: Shibao wenhua, 2002), 62–66; Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 140. For Bartók’s influence on Chiang, see Takajō Shigemi 高城重躬, “Wosuo liaojie de Jiang Wenye” 我所了解的江文也 (The Jiang Wenye I know), trans. Jiang Xiaoyun 江小韻, in Zhongyang yinyue xueyuan xuebao 中央音樂學院學報 (Bulletin of Central Music Academy) 3 (2000): 62.
19. Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 88.
20. See Leo Ching’s succinct analysis in Becoming Japanese: Colonial Taiwan and the Politics of Identity Formation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); also see Ping-hui Liao and David Der-wei Wang, eds., Taiwan Under Japanese Colonial Rule: History, Memory, Culture (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006).
21. Jiang Wenye was obviously conscious of the impact of his colonial status on his career in both Japan and wartime China. In commenting on the departmental politics in favor of a Japanese colleague in 1945, he said, “I suffered from discrimination when studying in Japan. Even after I became an established musician, I participated in four national music contests and always received second prizes, while the grand prizes unfailingly went to Japanese composers.” Wu Yunzhi 吳韻真, “Xianfu Jiang Wen-yeh” 先夫江文也 (My late husband Jiang Wenye), in Jiang Wenye Jinian yantaohui lunwenji, 142–143.
22. Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 18.
23. For Jiang’s visit to Taiwan, see Zhou Wanyao 周婉窈, “Xiangxiang de minzufeng: shilun Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopin zhong de Taiwan yu Zhongguo” 想象的民族風：試論江文也文字作品中的臺灣與中國 (Imaginary nationalist style: a preliminary study of Taiwan and China in Jiang Wenye’s textual works), Taiwan daxue lishi xuebao 臺灣大學歷史學報 (Journal of historical studies, National Taiwan University) 35 (June 2005): 137–142.
24. Jiang Wenye, “Shirasagi e no gensō no oitati” 白鷺への幻想の生い立ち (Fantasy for a white egret), Ongakusekai 音樂世界 (Music world) 6, no. 11 (1934): 110. Based on Zhou Wanyao’s translation.
25. After performing on tour from August 11 to August 19 in Taiwan, Jiang Wenye returned to Japan and wrote a poem that was printed on the front page of the orchestra score of Formosan Dance. Based on Zhou Wanyao’s description.
26. David Der-wei Wang, Fictional Realism in Twentieth-Century Chinese Fiction: Mao Dun, Lao She, Shen Congwen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1992), chapters 6–7.
27. For a detailed account of literary, linguistic, and cultural representations of Japan’s colonial south (nanpo), see Faye Yuan Kleeman, Under an Imperial Sun: Japanese Colonial Literature of Taiwan and the South (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2003), particularly chapter 1, on the “genealogy of the south.”
29. For a discussion on exoticism and colonial desire, see, for example, Chris Bongie, Exotic Memories: Literature, Colonialism, and the Fin de Siècle (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1991).
30. I first discussed the notion of imaginary nostalgia in my study of Shen Congwen. See Fictional Realism in 20th-Century Chinese Fiction, 252–253.
31. Li Ming Tcherepnin or Li Xianmin 李獻敏 was born into a Christian family with a rich Western music background in Guangdong. She was trained at the Shanghai Music Conservatory founded by Xiao Youmei, and she came to know Tcherepnin in 1934 when she was about to leave to study piano in Belgium. They were married in 1937. See Chang Chi-jen, “Ji Tcherepnin furen Li Xianmin nüshi” 記齊爾品夫人李獻敏女士 (On Mme. Tcherepnin Li Xianmin), Quanyin yinyue wenzhai 全音音樂文摘 (Quanyin digest of music) 69 (1984): 142–146.
32. Tcherepnin’s collaborative attempt with Lu Xun was brought to light by composer He Lüting 賀綠汀; quoted from Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 51–55. For more descriptions of Tcherepnin’s activities in China, see Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 73; Lin Yingqi, “Jiafeng zhong de wenhuaren,” 110–127.
33. Alexander Tcherepnin, letter to Walter Koons, quoted from Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 71.
35. “Russian Pianist Plays Works of Nativist Composers,” Japan Times and Mail, October 6, 1936. Quoted from Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 73.
36. Zhao Meibo (Chao Mei-po) 趙梅伯, “The Trend of Modern Chinese Music,” Tien-hsia Monthly IV (1937): 283; quoted from Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 80.
38. Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 132.
39. See Mme. Tcherepnin’s letter to Kuo Tzong-kai, June 2, 1987: “not only a teacher-student relationship formed, but they held each other in the greatest esteem and affection, Mr. Tcherepnin nicknamed Jiang Wenye ‘Pien’ and he in turn addressed Mr. Tcherepnin as ‘Apina.’ Mr. Tcherepnin regarded him as a son.” Quoted from Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 68.
40. Motohide Katayama, introduction to the CD Jiang Wen-ye Piano Works in Japan, performed by J. Y. Song (New York: Pro-Piano, 2001), 4.
41. Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 141.
42. Tcherepnin’s impact certainly was the major reason. According to Guo Zhiyuan 郭芝苑, a Taiwanese composer who met Jiang Wenye in Japan the early forties, Jiang moved to China because he fell in love with Bai Guang 白光, one of the most popular singers and movie stars of the time. See Guo, “Jiang Wenye de huixiang” 江文也的回想 (Reminiscences about Jiang Wenye), in Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji, 91.
43. Wu Yunzhen 吳韻真 was originally named Wu Ruizhen 吳蕊真. She studied voice with Jiang Wenye at Peking Girls Normal College in 1939; in turn she taught Jiang classical Chinese poetry. They fell in love quickly, and Jiang suggested she change her name to Yunzhen (melodious truth). Jiang’s two wives knew of each other’s existence; between 1939 and 1943 Jiang went back to Japan and stayed with Nobu Koh and their children every summer. Jiang never had a chance to return to Japan after 1944. The two wives did not meet until 1992, at the conference in memory of Jiang held at Academia Sinica, Taipei.
44. See Su Xia’s analysis in “Jiang Wenye bufen yuedui yinyue jianjie” 江文也部分樂隊音樂簡介 (An introduction to select orchestra music pieces by Jiang Wenye), conference paper presented at Jiang Wenye xiansheng shishi ershi zhounian jinian xueshu yantaohui, 4–6.
45. From the Liji, yueji, juan 37 禮記樂記卷 37 (Book of rites; book of music; juan 37), quoted from the database of Academia Sinica, http://www.sinica.edu.tw/-tdbproj/handy1/. Also, for a illuminating discussion of the “artistic spirit” of Confucianism, see Xu Fuguan 徐復觀, Zhonguo yishu jingshen 中國藝術精神 (The spirit of Chinese art) (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju, 1973), particularly 24.
46. Jiang Wenye, Jōdai Shina ongaku kō: Kōshi no ongaku ron 上代支那音樂考：孔子の音樂論 (A study of music in ancient China: Confucius’ treatise on music), trans. Chen Guanghui 陳光輝 as Kongzi yinyue lun 孔子音樂論, in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopinji 江文也文字作品集 (Textual works by Jiang Wenye) (Taipei: Cultural Center of Taipei County, 1992).
47. Quoted from Chang Chi-jen, Alexander Tcherepnin, 56.
48. Jiang Wenye’s reply to Guo Zhiyuan’s question; see Guo, “Jiang Wenye de huixiang,” 90.
49. Jiang Wenye’s reception of Schönberg and other avant-garde musicians was noted by Kuo Tzong-kai, in “Jiang Wenye zaoqi gangqi zuopin yinyue fengge zhi yuanqi yu tuibian” 江文也早期鋼琴作品音樂風格之研究與蛻變 (The rise and metamorphosis of the piano works by Jiang Wenye in his early period), in Lun Jiang Wenye: Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji 論江文也：江文也紀念研討會論文集 (On Jiang Wenye: proceedings of the conference in memory of Jiang Wenye) (Beijing: Zhongyang yinyue xueyuan xuebaoshe, 2000), 192.
50. Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 45.
51. See Theodor Adorno, Philosophy of Modern Music, trans. Anne G. Mitchell and Wesley V. Blomster (New York: The Seabury Press, 1973), 15–60; Adorno, “On the Fetish-Character in Music and the Regression of Listening,” in The Essential Frankfurt School Reader, ed. Andrew Arato and Eike Gebhardt (New York: Continuum, 1982), 298.
52. Liang Maochun 梁茂春, “Jiang Wenye de gangqin zuopin” 江文也的鋼琴作品 (The piano works by Jiang Wenye), in Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji, 115.
53. Stephen Owen, The Poetry of Meng Chiao and Han Yu (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1975), 9. See also Theodore Huters’s discussion in “From Writing to Literature: The Development of Late Qing Theories of Prose,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Study (1987): 93.
54. Jiang Wenye, “Kongmiao de yinyue, dacheng yuezhang” 孔廟的音樂，大成樂章 (The music of the Confucian temple), trans. Jiang Xiaoyun 江小韻, in Liu Jingzhi 劉靖之, ed., Minzu yinyue yanjiu 民族音樂研究 (Studies of ethnomusicology), ed. Liu Jingzhi 劉靖之, vol. 3 (Hong Kong: The University of Hong Kong, 1992), 301.
55. For a more detailed study of “fayue,” see Foguang dacidian bianxiu weiyuanhui 佛光大辭典編修委員會, Foguang dacidian 佛光大辭典 (Foguang edition of dictionary of Buddhist terminology), (Gaoxiong: Foguang chubanshe, 1995), 4:3379. 怪譯華嚴經卷二 (大九‧四○三中) : “佛音能起歡悅心，普令眾生得法喜.”
56. “Confucius regards politics as something like music, which is an extremely clear and pristine entity.” Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 148.
57. Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 21.
58. Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 37.
59. Confucius, The Analects, trans. D. C. Lau (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1992), 59.
60. Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 93.
61. Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 100.
62. Walter Benjamin, “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Production,” in Illuminations, trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Random House, 1988), 217–252.
63. Yamada, “Ongaku no hōetukyō” 音樂の法悅境 (The state of divine bliss in music), in Yamada kōsaku chosakuzenshu 山田耕筰著作全集 (Complete works of Yamada Kōsaku)， (Tokyo: iwanamishoten，2001), vol. 1, 117–118; quoted from Lin Yingqi, “Jiafeng zhong de wenhuaren,” 52.
65. Jiang Wenye, Kongzi yinyue lun, 52.
66. China constitutes one of the most important subjects of modern Japanese imperialist discourse. China was treated either as a formerly glorious civilization to be emulated or as a romanticized object for an imperialist gaze. In his study, Joshua Fogel points out that from the last years of the shogun era to 1945, there appeared as many as five hundred books regarding travel in China, a trend that peaked in the early Taisho period. For a comprehensive study of “Greater East Asia” as an intellectual discourse, a political campaign, and a military movement, see Wang Ping 王屏, Jindai riben de yaxiya zhuyi 近代日本的亞細亞主義 (Asianism in early modern Japan) (Beijing: Shangwu yinshuguan, 2004), particularly chapters 5–12.
67. “Depart from Asian and join Europe” was proposed by Fukuzawa Yukichi 福澤諭吉 (1835–1901) in 1885. Fukuzawa believed Asia could be considered culturally homogenous, as a Confucian space; he aimed to break with Confucianism by transforming Japan into a nation-state. Japan’s self-consciousness as a nation-state was to be achieved through separation from Asia and reproduction, within Asia, of the dichotomy civilized/barbarian, Western/Eastern.
68. In his study, Joshua Fogel points out that from the last years of the shogun era to 1945, there appeared as many as five hundred books regarding travel in China, a trend that peaked in the early Taisho period. Joshua Fogel, The Literature of Travel in the Japanese Rediscovery of China (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995).
69. See Liu Yuebing’s 劉北岳 extensive discussion of the rise of Japanese military nationalism and Confucianism in Riben jindai ruxue yanjiu 日本近代儒學研究 (A study of Confucianism in early modern Japan) (Beijing: Shangwu yinshuguan, 2003), chapter 2, particularly 107–116. Also see Chen Weifen 陳瑋芬, Jindai riben hanxue de guanjianci yanjiu:ruxue ji xiangguan gainian de shanbian 近代日本漢學的關鍵詞研究：儒學及相關概念的嬗變 (A study of keywords of Sinological studies in early modern Japan: transformation of Confucianism and relevant concepts) (Taipei: Publication Center, National Taiwan University, 2005), chapter 6.
70. See the chronology of Jiang Wenye in Chang Chi-jen, Jiang Wenye, 141.
71. See Lin Yingqi’s succinct study, “Jiafeng zhong de wenhuaren,” 44–49.
72. Jiang Wenye may have (unwittingly) echoed the view shared by select contemporary Sinologists such as Kurakichi Shiratori 白鳥庫吉 (1865–1942) and Konan Naito 内湖藤南 (1866–1934). Instead of honoring the authenticity and coherence of Chinese historiography, these scholars cast doubt about the origins of Chinese civilization and argued that it should be studied in a broader, comparative context of Asian history. See Lin Yingqi’s discussion, “Jiafeng zhong de wenhuaren,” 70–75.
73. Xu Changhui 許常惠, “Youguan Jiang Wenye yanjiu de jidian kanfa” 有關江文也研究的幾點看法 (A few comments on Jiang Wenye studies), in Minzu yinyue yanjiu 民族音樂研究 (Studies of ethnographic music), vol. 3 (a special issue based on the papers and proceedings of the international seminar on the life and works of Jiang Wenye) (Hong Kong: The University of Hong King, 1992), 206.
74. Guo Zhiyuan, “Reminiscences About Jiang Wenye,” 89.
75. Jiang Wenye, “Inscription of Beijing,” trans. Liao Qingzhang, in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopinji, 153.
76. See Tsai Chien-hsin’s analysis of the meaning of ming in Chinese and Japanese context, in “On Jiang Wenye: Cinema, Poetry, and Historical Representation,” unpublished paper, 15. “It is in this reverberation between the opening and the ending that we see míng 銘 (mei in Japanese) come to partake of various connotations of ming 命 (again mei in Japanese) such as fate, naming, command, avowal, life cycle, and calling that become mutually reinforcing in this context.”
77. Jiang Wenye, “Inscription of Beijing,” trans. Liao Qingzhang, in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopinji, 179.
84. See Chien-hsin Tsai’s discussion of the liminal quality of Jiang’s light symbolism, in “On Jiang Wenye,” 17–19: “Etymologically, sublime, sublimation, and liminal share the same root of limen in Latin, which indicates a threshold. Both sublime and sublimation literally mean things and phenomena that are beyond the threshold. If the threshold of liminality emphasizes a psyche of in-betweenness, sublime and sublimation then leads to an acquisition of illumination or enlightenment, a kind of capability to travel freely in and out of a liminal space without the constraints of time and physical matters.” For a discussion of Buddhist references to light, knowledge, and illusion, see Xiaofei Tian, “Illusion and Illumination: A New Poetics of Seeing in Liang Dynasty Court Literature,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 65, no. 1 (2005): 7–56.
85. Jiang was particularly fascinated by Valéry’s poetry. See “Zuoqu yujin” 作曲餘燼 (Ashes of compositions), in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopinji, 317.
88. Jiang Wenye, Fu tia tan 賦天壇 (Rhapsody of the Temple of Heaven), in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopinji, 265–266.
89. Jiang Wenye, Fu tia tan, 267–268.
90. Jiang Wenye, Fu tia tan, 303.
91. Průšek, “Subjectivism and Individualism in Modern Chinese Literature,” 1–28; Leonard Chan, “The Conception of Chinese Lyricism: Průšek’s Reading of Chinese Literary Tradition,” in Paths Toward Modernity: Conference to Mark the Centenary of Jaroslav Průšek, ed. Olga Lomová (Prague: The Karolinum Press, 2008), 19–32.
92. Průšek, “Subjectivism and Individualism in Modern Chinese Literature,” 1–28.
93. “興於詩，立於禮，成於樂”; Confucius, the Analects, 70.
94. See, for example, Xu Fuguan’s succinct discussion, “You yinyue tansuo kongzi de yishu jingshen” (A study of Confucius’ artistic spirit through music); “Zhongguo yishu jingshen zhuti zhi chengxian: zhuangzi de zaifaxian” (The manifestation of subjectivity of Chinese artistic spirit: rediscovering Zhuangzi), in Zhonguo yishu jingshen (The artistic spirit of China) (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju, 1973), chapters 1, 2.
95. See, for example, Ronald Egan’s “The Controversy Over Music and ‘Sadness’ and Changing Conceptions of the Qin in the Middle Period China,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 57, no. 1 (1997): 5–66. Also see Zhang Huihui’s 張蕙慧 discussion, in Ji Kang yinyue meixue sixiang yanjiu 嵇康音樂美學思想研究 (A study of the musical aesthetics of Ji Kang) (Taipei: Wenjin chubanshe, 1997), chapters 2–4. Compared with Jiang, perhaps Ji Kang gave greater consideration to the listeners’ emotional responses. Although music itself does not inherently carry specific emotional meanings, Ji recognizes that different listeners have different emotional responses, and attempts to address that. I wish to thank Professor Joyce Cheung for her comment on this point.
96. Zong Baihua 宗白華, “Xingshangxue (zhongxi zhexue zhibijiao)” 形上學 (中西哲學之比較) (Metaphysics [a comparative study of Chinese and Western philosophy]), in Zong Baihua quanji 宗白華全集 (Complete works of Zong Baihua), vol. 1 (Hefei: Anhui jiaoyu chubanshe, 1996), 591–621.
97. Zong Baihua, “Zhongguo shihua zhong suobiaoxian de kongjian yishi” 中國詩畫中所表現的空間意識 (Spatial consciousness as demonstrated in Chinese poetry and painting), in Zong Baihua quanji, vol. 2, 426.
98. Zong Baihua, “Xingshangxue (zhongxi zhexue zhibijiao),” 601 note 3. “Whereas the sequence of order and the principle of number can command the world of phenomena, the harmonious chord of music is that which brings home its flavor and value” (627). Zong’s conclusion is admittedly characteristic of the cultural essensentialism at the time. What is noteworthy is that instead of praising traditional notions as such, he asks how Chinese literati could construct modern sensibilities by renewing the Chinese heritage of music, painting, and literature. Thus, he entertains not so much a nostalgia about the past as a cosmopolitan search for a “rhythm of life” and a “vision of the future” for modern Chinese. See Zhang Qiqun’s 章啓群 discussion in Zhongguo bainian meixue shilue 中國百年美學史略 (A brief history of Chinese aesthetics in the modern century) (Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe, 2005), chapter 4.
99. Thus he claimed in 1941, “all forms of art enable writers to express a feeling of poetry, and there is no exception for short stories.” Shen Congwen, “Duanpian xiaoshuo” 短篇小説 (On short stories), in Shen Congwen wenji (Works of Shen Congwen) (Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian, 1994), vol. 12, 126.
100. Shen Congwen, “Zhuxu” 燭虛 (Dwindling candle), in Shen Congwen quanji, vol. 12, 25.
102. Shen Congwen, “Qianyuan” 潛淵 (Deep abyss), in Shen Congwen quanji, vol. 12, 88.
104. Jiang Wenye, Fu Tiantan (Rhapsody of the temple of heaven), in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopin ji, 273.
105. Confucius, the “xianjin” 先進 chapter, in The Analects, 105.
106. There has been much discussion of the section in light of the Confucian vision of lyricism, music, and benevolence. See for example Xu Fuguan, “You yinyue tansuo kongzi de yishu jingshen,” 12–19.
107. See Ke Xiaogang 柯小剛, “Chuntian de xinzhi: dui lunyu shizuozhang de yige xianxiangxue chanfa” 春天的心志，對論語侍坐章的一個現象學闡發 (The intent of the spring: a phenomenological interpretation of the “waiting on the master” of the Analects), http://www.frchina.net/data/detail.php?id=2850.
108. Jiang Wenye, Fu Tiantan, 274.
109. Jiang Wenye, Fu Tiantan, 269.
111. Jiang Wenye, Fu Tiantan, 270.
112. The piece was passed on to Chiang Kai-shek by Li Zongren 李宗仁 (1891–1969), one of the most important military leaders during the war. Li was made commander-in-chief of the Beijing area after the end of the war, and it was in this capacity that he accepted Jiang Wenye’s music piece on behalf of the Nationalist government. Wang Zhenya 王振亞, “Zuoqujia Jiang Wenye” 作曲家江文也 (Jiang Wenye the composer), Zhongyang yinyue xuebao 中央音樂學報 (Journal of Central Music Academy) (May 1985); quoted from Wu Lingyi, “Chiang Wen-yeah shengping yu zuopin” (The life and works of Jiang Wenye), in Jiang Wenye jinian yantaohui lunwenji, 164.
113. Jiang Wenye, “Xieyu shengyong zuopin ji diyijuan wancheng zhihou” 寫於聖詠作品集第一集完成以後 (A few words after the completion of the first volume of Melodiae Psalmorum), in Jiang Wenye wenzi zuopin ji, 309. For more information about Jiang’s composition of Chinese-style psalms, see Su Mingcun 蘇明村, “Jiang Wenye de zongjiao yinyue chutan” 江文也的宗教音樂初探 (A preliminary study of Jiang Wenye’s religious music), in Lun Jiang Wenye, 331–348; Pu Fang 莆 方, “Jiang Wenye yinyue de zongjiao fengge” 江文也音樂的宗教風格 (The religious style of Jiang Wenye’s music), in Lun Jiang Wenye, 349–358; Cai Shiya 蔡詩亞, “Jiang Wenye jiqi zongjiao shengyue zuopin jieshao” 江文也及其宗教作品介紹 (An introduction to Jiang Wenye and his religious works), in Lun Jiang Wenye, 358–400.
114. Xie Lifa 謝里法, “Duanceng xiade laoteng” 斷層下的老籐藤 (Old vines under a fault), quoted from Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 26. For a detailed description of Jiang Wenye’s life from the fifties to his death, see Wu Yunzhen, “Xianfu Jiang Wenye,” 147–153; Kuo Tzong-kai, Jiang Wenye, 25–31; Chang Chi-jen, Jiang Wenye, 47–58.
115. Quoted from Wu Yunzhen, “Xianfu Jiang Wenye.”