Words Well Put
Page 12
will be expressed through them. In fact, the emperor’s initial
—————
58. Ruan Yuan, Shisan jing, vol. 1, p. 45.
59. Guo Shaoyu suggests that the phrase bai shou shuai wu 百獸率舞 might also refer to a primitive totemic dance employing the images of various animals ( Zhongguo lidai wen lun xuan, vol. 1, p. 1).
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Performing the Tradition
71
command that Kui “regularize the music” 典樂 implies that there
is a previously extant body of music from which Kui can form a
canon. In this context, the term “music” encompasses words, sing-
ing, melody, tonal modes, and dance. The passage taken as a whole
does not rule out the possibility that Kui or others might compose
new music and words, but that is certainly not its primary denota-
tion. If music is to be the means of inculcating certain moral quali-
ties in the sons of the clan, then Kui’s role seems to consist primarily of selecting, regularizing, and performing pieces of music from the
past suited for this task.
This reading of the passage leaves open the question of exactly
whose “intent” is being articulated through a poem as a verbal ele-
ment of a piece of music. If the music is from the past, then the
“intent” articulated in its verbal component may be from the past as
well; in this case, the performance is not for immediate expressive
purposes so much as for illustrative purposes. Or, perhaps the
melody is from the past, but the words are composed anew to ar-
ticulate the “intent” of whoever is uttering them. A third possibility
is that the melody and words are both from the past, but they are
being used as a suitable vehicle to articulate the “intent” of the per-
former in the present. The passage does not force us to choose
between these options. The question of production of new words
versus quotation of old words is not at stake here. It is the proper
performance of words and melody (whatever their origin) that
matters. Poetic competence is not about producing good words; it is
about using words well.
This passage from the Documents—as is the case with so many
passages from the Classics—quite generously accommodates differ-
ent interpretations. The three-character phrase shi yan zhi 詩言志, in particular, has often been “broken off” in order to “seize upon a
meaning”—one that varies depending on who is doing the “break-
ing.” 60 It appears in the Zuo Tradition itself, with one telling emendation. In Duke Xiang 27th Year (546 b.c.e.), the Earl of Zheng
convenes a banquet in honor of the Jin minister, Zhao Meng, who
asks seven of the officials in attendance on the earl to offer poems to
him so that he may “thereby observe the intent of the seven gen-
—————
60. See a history of the use of this phrase in Zhu Ziqing, Shi yan zhi bian.
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72
Performing the Tradition
tlemen” 以觀七子之志. After the banquet is over, he turns to one of
his fellow Jin ministers and says of one of the performers, “Boyou
will soon be executed. We use poetry to articulate intent, and he is
intent upon maligning his master, who resents him for it” 伯有將為
戮矣。詩以言志。志誣其上。而公怨之 (Xiang 27.5). In the context
of this passage, the statement that “we use poetry to articulate in-
tent” refers to a preexisting poem—a selection from the received
corpus of Poems—to be used as an instrument to articulate an im-
mediate intent. This formulation is certainly borne out by poetic
praxis as it is depicted in the Zuo Tradition narratives, which can be characterized as repeated illustrations of the “use” ( yi 以) of the Poems to express what is on the mind of those who utter them, either through ritual offering or through citation in speeches. What
the narratives also show is that such “use” is neither transparent nor
easily mastered. Later reformulations of the maxim “the poem ar-
ticulates intent” 詩言志, beginning with the “Great Preface” 大序 to
the Poems, attempt to “cleanse” the concept of poetry of the political taint occasioned by its somewhat disingenuous use in the Zuo
Tradition, which casts poetic competence as part of the Traditionalists’ larger concern with a cultural competence aimed at political
success.
The Traditionalists depicted in the Zuo Tradition are not so much seeking distinction through cultural competence as creating distinction by defining what it means to be culturally competent. The
preservation and transmission of the Zuo Tradition is ostensibly justified because of its status as a “commentary” on the Springs and Autumns, but its true power lies in staking out and monopolizing a field of cultural capital, one that is predicated on explicitly labeled
bodies of traditional knowledge and their associated practices. Its
narratives then demonstrate the efficacy of that capital as well as the
danger of ignoring those who monopolize it. The lessons taught in
the Zuo Tradition become all the more powerful as it assumes the status of the authoritative account of its age, thus allowing its depiction of past practices—including poetic practice—to influence
later practices. Ultimately, the Tradition and the Traditionalist are
both governed by the same insight: words from the past, well put in
the present, constitute a stake in the future.
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Z two Y
Baring the Soul
I
The Han History, compiled by Ban Gu 班固 (32–92 c.e.) and others, 1
depicts two famous song performances at critical turning points in
the founding of the Han dynasty. The songs are by Xiang Yu 項羽
(232–202 b.c.e.) and Liu Bang 劉邦 (256–195 b.c.e.), who set out as
brothers-in-arms in the rebellion against the despotic Qin dynasty,
but ended up locked in a battle for supremacy once Qin was de-
feated. The first song, “Song of Gaixia” 垓下歌, was performed by
Xiang Yu as he faced Liu Bang’s overwhelming forces in 202 b.c.e.:
Xiang Yu was camped at Gaixia with only a few soldiers and at the end of his food supplies. The Han commander, with the Imperial Marquises and
their soldiers, surrounded him in several files. In the night, Xiang Yu heard the Han forces on all sides singing the songs of Chu. He was astonished by
—————
1. Ban Gu is the principal compiler of the Han History, but the project was initiated by his father, Ban Biao 班彪 (3–54 c.e.), and completed by his sister, Ban Zhao 班昭 (d. 116 c.e.). A large portion of it seems to be derived from the Historical Records 史記 by Sima Qian 司馬遷 (ca. 145–86? b.c.e.), although I only cite Han History (Ban Gu, Han shu) here as it deals exclusively with the Western Han dynasty.
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74
Baring the Soul
this and asked, “Have the Han already taken Chu? How
many men of Chu
there are!” He got up to take drink within his shelter. He had a beautiful consort, named Lady Yu, whom he had always favored for accompanying
him, and a fine steed named Dapple Gray, which he always rode. And so he was moved to sing mournfully with passionate feeling, composing a song
verse himself that said, 2
My strength could uproot mountains my vigor
overshadowed the age,
but the times are against me and now Dapple Gray
will not escape. 3
Dapple Gray will not escape what can I do?
and Yu, oh my Yu what can be done for you?
He sang it through several times and his beautiful consort sang in unison with him. 4 Several lines of tears ran down Xiang Yu’s face. Everyone in attendance wept, and none could raise his head to look upon them. 5
—————
2. The original poem is four lines in the basic Chusheng 處聲 meter of two trisyllabic hemistiches divided by the caesura particle xi 兮 as in XXX 兮 XXX. In my translation, I separate the hemistiches with spaces. The Chusheng meter is flexible in that the hemistiches can be expanded and collapsed and the xi particle may sometimes be omitted or appear at the end of a line rather than the middle.
3. Yoshikawa Kōjirō (“Kō Yu no ‘Gaikako’ ni tsuite”) and Suzuki Shūji ( Kan Gi shi no kenkyū) both cite a recension of Historical Records preserved in Japan that provides seven extra characters in the middle of this line (威勢廢威勢廢兮), effectively pulling line 2 apart and making an extra line from it thus:
But the times are against me my prestige and power fail me.
My prestige and power fail me Dapple Gray will not escape.
Suzuki notes that the interpolation fits the meter of the rest of the poem. I would add that it also preserves (and even enhances) the symmetry of the poem’s argument by introducing a pair of repeated hemistiches marking the transition from a general statement regarding Xiang Yu’s failing power to his particular inability to save his horse and concubine. The presence of this variant indicates the “elasticity”
of the orally uttered poems in Historical Records and Han History when compared to the relatively stable narrative prose.
4. Zhang Shoujie 張守節 in Shiji zhengyi 史記正義 (preface dated 737) quotes Lady Yu’s pentasyllabic song in response. It is cited in Suzuki ( Kan Gi shi no kenkyū, p. 31), who casts doubt on the authenticity of this song and its reliability as evidence for the use of pentasyllabic meter early in the Han dynasty. The character he 和 (falling tone) can be translated either as “join in” or “in response.”
5. Ban, Han shu, juan 31, p. 1817.
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Baring the Soul
75
羽壁垓下。軍少食盡。漢帥諸侯兵圍之數重。羽夜聞漢軍四面皆楚歌。
乃驚曰。漢皆已得楚乎。是何楚人多也。起飲帳中。有美人姓虞氏。常
幸從。駿馬名騅。常騎。乃悲歌慷慨。自為歌詩曰。
力拔山兮氣蓋世
時不利兮騅不逝
騅不逝兮可柰何
虞兮虞兮柰若何
歌數曲。美人和之。羽泣下數行。左右皆泣。莫能仰視。
Xiang Yu manages to escape alone from the encirclement to live
another day, but when Liu Bang’s forces eventually hunt him down,
he decides to take his own life, offering up his body to a former
friend who might claim the reward for it.
The second song, “The Great Wind” 大風, is performed by Liu
Bang six years after his victory over Xiang Yu. Liu Bang, now the
undisputed emperor, makes a return visit to his hometown of Pei in
196 b.c.e.:
When the emperor was making his way back to the capital, he passed
through Pei and stayed for a while. He arranged for a banquet in the Pei Palace to which he invited all of his old friends, the village elders, and the young men to join him in drinking. He summoned 120 boys from the
village and taught them a song. When everyone was well in their cups,
the emperor struck the lute and sang the song himself:6
A great wind arises and the clouds are swept away,
my majesty weighs upon the realm as I return to
my homeland.
Where will I find brave warriors to keep this vast land?
He ordered the boys to repeat it in unison with him. Then the emperor
rose to dance to his song and was struck with such passionate feeling that tears streamed down his face. He said to the elders of Pei, “The wanderer grows homesick and while I may have established my capital within the
Pass, even in death my soul will still long for Pei.” 7
上還。過沛。留。置酒沛宮。悉召故人父老子弟佐酒。發沛中兒得百二
十人。教之。酒酣。上擊筑。自歌曰。
—————
6. This song is also in Chusheng meter, with the first hemistich varying between three and four characters.
7. Ban, Han shu, juan 1b, p. 74.
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76
Baring the Soul
大風起兮雲飛揚
威加海內兮歸故鄉
安得猛士兮守四方
令兒皆和習之。上乃起舞慷慨傷懷。泣數行下。謂沛父兄曰。游子悲故
鄉。吾雖都關中。萬歲之後吾魂魄猶思沛。
These songs perfectly capture the different personalities that
gradually emerge in the chronicles of the struggles between these
two men. 8 The construction of these personalities may have more to do with the imperatives of historical narrative than with the realities of historical persons, but they stand as the enduring record of
the two. Just as the narrative accounts were constructed and likely
embellished to serve the agendas of the historians who recorded
them, so too were the songs fashioned (and perhaps even fabricated)
to serve the demands of the story told in the narratives. In his song,
Xiang Yu produces an elegiac valediction for a fallen kingdom in
which the cosmos itself turns against him; the loss of those dearest
to him becomes synecdoche for an entire world now beyond re-
covery. Liu Bang produces an ambivalent salutation for an infant
empire. He does not envision a world lost, but the lifting of a cloudy
veil from a new age rife with the challenges of a grand rule. The first
man casts himself as a tragic hero, whose ambition is spited by
Heaven; the second man casts himself as the reluctant victor, who
might hold the empire in the palm of his hand but is all too aware of
its weight. The hand of the historian(s) is behind these castings—the
type of song that each man produces is put forward as a transparent
indicator of his interior nature.
The way in which these two men are depicted in the performance
of their songs also suggests their differences in personality. Xiang Yu
is more spontaneous, more personal, with his impromptu midnight
libation in his battle tent. The narrative reports that he is moved
with “passionate feeling,” and the song seems to come to him
naturally as a result of his emotions in response to “the Han forces
on all sides singing the songs of Chu.” The depth of his passion is
—————
8. Durrant summarizes their personalities as follows: “Xiang Yu, for all his action, is plainly moving forward toward the pa
st. . . . Liu Bang, however, represents the newly emergent bureaucratic state” ( Cloudy Mirror, p. 135).
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Baring the Soul
77
magnified in the response of his beloved concubine and overflows
with the tears of the onlookers, who cannot bear to look upon such
deep sorrow.
By comparison, Liu Bang’s song performance is completely
staged. He invites an entire village to a formal banquet in the town
hall, in preparation for which he conscripts and trains a choir of 120
boys. At the banquet, Liu Bang personally plays the music and sings
a song of his own composition, commanding the choir to join in
with him. Once the choir is singing the song, he then rises to dance
and is moved to tears with “passionate feeling” in listening to his
own composition. The locus of emotion in Xiang Yu’s performance
is in the passionate feeling that produces his song; in Liu Bang’s it is the passionate feeling he feels in response to his own song. Liu Bang
is staging the act of reception by usurping the role of the immediate
audience for himself. The attendees at the banquet (who do not
weep as they do for Xiang Yu’s song) are not so much witnesses to
Liu Bang’s personal expression of his feelings as to his own response
to a choral performance of that expression. 9 The difference in performance styles of the two songs is striking: Xiang Yu’s is the
spontaneous performance of one man that affects many; Liu Bang’s
is the staged performance of many that affects one man, himself.
This is the difference between a lone tragic figure who has lost a
kingdom and is rendered impotent, and a man who has won an
empire and knows how to behave as an emperor should.
The narrative frames provided in these prose passages give the
reader an idea of the immediate circumstances that occasioned the
songs, a description of how the songs were composed and per-
formed, and a mention of the reaction of those who heard them. 10