The preface1 to A Book to Burn, written in Macheng in 1590, encapsulates many of the salient stylistic features of Li Zhi’s text: classical allusions, hyperbole, and self-contradiction, as well as many themes prominent throughout Li’s writings—authenticity, friendship, and the quest for sagehood. In this short introduction, Li situates A Book to Burn in the context of his other literary works and explains the book’s provocative title: he admits to hoping that the book be burned lest it offend readers’ sensibilities. By sharing with readers his own ambivalence over the status and value of his book, Li creates an intimate bond between author and reader and challenges the reader to take a stand. His comment that readers “certainly will wish to kill me” resembles a self-confirming prophecy, for in 1602 Li Zhi was arrested on charges that his writings “threw men’s minds into confusion,” “disrupted the Dao,” and “muddled a generation.” He committed suicide in prison. (RHS)
I have written four books. The first is called A Book to Keep (Hidden). It records several thousands of years of good and bad deeds from ancient times to the present. It is not easy for common people with eyes of flesh to read, so I intended [at first] to hide it.2 I meant for it to be hidden in a mountain to await someone of a later generation, a Ziyun to come.3 The second book is called A Book to Burn; in it I reply to the questions posed by my soul friends. Its words get right to the point and criticize the intractable errors of today’s scholars. Since I strike at the heart of their inveterate flaws, they certainly will wish to kill me. So I originally intended this book to be burned. I meant it to be burned and abandoned so that none of it would remain. At the back of A Book to Burn is an appendix called “The Suffering of Old Age.”4 Although it is part of A Book to Burn, I made it into a separate fascicle so that the people who want to burn my writings can burn it separately. Only On the Four Books, a work in forty-four chapters, truly brings delight.5 It sheds light on the essence and inner riches of the sages and explains their applicability to everyday life. Readers who scan it will immediately understand that there is nothing difficult about becoming a sage, and nothing false about transcending the world of appearances. To be sure, writings such as commentaries and annotations exist to assist people in becoming sages, but in fact they close the doors to sagehood; they do not draw people in but rather block the path. How lamentable! My On the Four Books says, “It was seeing my friends compose eight-legged essays that prompted to me to write On the Four Books.6 So On the Four Books may bolster the writing of eight-legged essays, but there are plenty of pieces in it that will not have that effect.”
Now On the Four Books has already been printed; A Book to Burn has also been printed; and one or two parts of A Book to Keep (Hidden) have been printed. What was to have been burned is no longer to be burned, and what was to have been hidden is no longer to be hidden.
Someone said, “If that’s the case, it doesn’t make sense to call your book A Book to Burn. Wouldn’t using such a name produce a situation in which words and deeds no longer correspond and names can no longer be spoken?”
Alas! How would I know? And how would you possibly know? The reason to burn it is that [some claim] the book is grating to people’s ears. The reason to print it is that [some claim] it enters people’s minds. I fear that those who find my work grating to the ear will most certainly kill me. But I am sixty-four years old. If my writings should enter someone’s mind, then perhaps I may find someone who understands me! I hope to be lucky enough to find even a few such people. Therefore I am letting it be printed.
TRANSLATED BY RIVI HANDLER-SPITZ
