The Spirit Beast Contest

Heavenly Corpse, Talisman Demon

41

"Life does not last a hundred years, yet we are forever burdened with worries for a thousand. The days are short, the nights long and bitter—why not take up a candle and roam? (1)" "We seek immortality through elixirs, but most are misled by the medicines. Better to drink fine wine and dress in silk and white cloth. (2)" To express emotion like this is to leave no gap between the words and the feeling. "I gathered chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge, and leisurely gazed at the southern mountain. The mountain air was lovely at dusk, and birds flew home together. (3)" "The sky was like a great tent, covering the fields all around. The sky was vast and blue, the fields boundless and green; the wind bent the grass, revealing cattle and sheep. (4)" To depict scenery like this is to leave no gap between the words and the scene.

Notes:

(1) "Nineteen Old Poems," No. 15: "Life does not last a hundred years, yet we are forever burdened with worries for a thousand. The days are short, the nights long—why not take up a candle and roam, seeking joy while the moment lasts? Why wait for the days to come? Fools begrudge their expenses, only to be mocked by those who come after. The immortal Wang Ziqiao is beyond our reach; how could we hope to live as long as he?"

(2) "Nineteen Old Poems," No. 13: "We drove our carriage up to the eastern gate and gazed afar at the northern cemetery. How mournfully the poplars sighed, with pines and cypresses lining the broad road. Beneath them lay the dead, sunk in darkness and the long night. They sleep beneath the Yellow Springs, never to wake again for a thousand years. The forces of yin and yang shift ceaselessly; a lifespan is like morning dew. Human life is fleeting, as if we were only guests; no lifespan is as firm as metal or stone. For ten thousand years, people have seen one another off; neither sages nor worthies can escape. We seek immortality through elixirs, but most are misled by the medicines. Better to drink fine wine and dress in silk and white cloth."

(3) See Note 3 under Tao Qian's "Drinking Wine."

(4) Hulukin's "Song of Chile": "The Chile River lies beneath the Yin Mountains. The sky is like a great tent, covering the fields all around. The sky is vast and blue, the fields boundless and green; the wind bends the grass, revealing cattle and sheep."

42

Among poets of the past and present, none has possessed a manner as lofty as Baishi. Sadly, he did not exert himself over the realm of artistic conception, so his words lack resonance beyond the words and echoes beyond the strings. In the end, he cannot be counted among the first rank of writers.

43

Among Southern Song ci poets, Baishi had style but no feeling, while Jian'nan had spirit but lacked charm. The only one who could stand shoulder to shoulder with the Northern Song poets was You'an. Modern poets take the Southern Song as their model and set aside the Northern Song, claiming that Southern Song ci can be learned, but Northern Song ci cannot. Those who study the Southern Song take either Baishi or Mengchuang as their forebear, since Baishi and Mengchuang can be learned, but You'an cannot. Those who study You'an tend to imitate his roughness and humor, since they believe his rough, humorous side can be learned, while his finest qualities cannot. You'an's finest qualities lie in his feeling and his artistic conception. Even in terms of grandeur, he had the bearing of "crossing the pure waves and reaching straight into the blue clouds (1)." How could he be likened to the petty, cramped scholars of later generations?

Notes:

(1) Xiao Tong's preface to the Collected Works of Tao Yuanming says that his writing "crosses the pure waves as it flows along, and reaches straight up into the blue clouds."

44

Dongpo's ci was broad-minded; Jiaxuan's was heroic. To study their ci without possessing their breadth of mind is like Dongshi imitating Xishi's furrowed brow.

45

When reading the ci of Dongpo and Jiaxuan, one must look to their magnanimity and lofty bearing, and to their spirit of Boyi and Liuxia Hui. Though Baishi seems to have shed the dust of the world like a cicada leaving its shell, in the end he could not escape the confines of the carriage shafts.

46

Su and Xin were the madmen of ci. Baishi at least remained an eccentric. As for Mengchuang, Meixi, Yugu, Caocang, Xilu and the rest, their faces differed, but all were village worthies in the end.

47

Jiaxuan's "Drinking through the Mid-Autumn night, I composed a 'Magnolia Blossoms Slow' in the style of 'Questions to Heaven' to send off the moon" says: "What a pity, this moon tonight—where is it going, drifting away so far? Is there another world where, just now, it first sees the light in the east? (1)" The poet's imagination grasped the truth that the moon revolves around the earth, perfectly aligned with science. This may be called inspired insight.

Notes:

(1) Xin Qiji's "Magnolia Blossoms Slow" ("Drinking through the Mid-Autumn night until dawn, a guest remarked: 'Earlier poets wrote poems to await the moon, but none to send it off.' So I composed this in the style of 'Questions to Heaven.'"): "What a pity, this moon tonight—where is it going, drifting away so far? Is there another world where, just now, it first sees the light in the east? The sky beyond is vast and empty; only the mighty wind sends off the Mid-Autumn moon. The flying mirror has no roots—who has tied it there? Chang'e never marries—who has kept her there? I asked about its passing beneath the sea, but found no way to know. It leaves one bewildered and sad. I fear the huge whales stretching for ten thousand miles, sweeping back and forth and smashing the jade halls and towers of fine jade. Toads can swim in water, so why is it that the jade hare can float? If everything is safe and sound, why does the moon gradually become a hook?"

48

Jiecun said, "Meixi's ci delights in using the word 'steal'; that alone is enough to determine his character. (1)" Liu Rongzhai said, "Zhou's intent is licentious, while Shi's is greedy. (2)" These two remarks are enough to make one burst out laughing.

Notes:

(1) See Zhou Ji's Miscellaneous Remarks on Ci from the Jiecun Studio.

(2) Liu Xizai, The Art of Ci and Qu, Vol. 4, "An Overview of Ci and Qu": "Zhou Meicheng's forms are exceptionally precise and rigorous. Shi Bangqing's lines are exceptionally striking and polished. Yet neither can be called a gentleman of ci, for Zhou's intent is licentious and Shi's is greedy."

49

Jiecun said that the finest of Mengchuang's ci were like "the play of light on water and the shadows of clouds, rippling over green waves; to linger over them is endless, yet to pursue them is already too late." But having read Mengchuang's collected works, in four parts, I found nothing that truly measured up to this. Could it be these two lines: "Across the river, someone stands amid the sound of rain; in the evening breeze, the reeds stir with sorrow and resentment"? (1)

Notes:

(1) Wu Wen-ying's "Treading on Grass" reads: "Jade-colored gauze veils her; sandalwood lips lean against a fan. The embroidered robe still carries a faint trace of rouge. The pomegranate heart lies empty beneath her red dance skirt; perhaps the mugwort branch presses down her disheveled, sorrowful hair. A noon dream spans a thousand mountains; the shadow by the window darts like an arrow. The fragrance mark has just faded from her red-silk wrist. Across the river, someone stands amid the sound of rain; in the evening breeze, the reeds stir with sorrow and resentment."

50

Of Mengchuang's ci, I can choose one line to sum it up: "The green reflections scattered in the dream window. (1)" Of Yutian's ci, I can choose one line to sum it up: "The jade is old, the fields lie barren. (2)"

Notes:

(1) Wu Wen-ying's "Autumn Thoughts" ("A famous beauty from Kuocang asked me to write a poem for her listening-to-the-rain pavilion") reads: "She lies with fragrant hair beside the pillow. The sudden night sounds suit the autumn colors on the painted screen. The wind scatters strings of pearls; dampness creeps into the singer's board; sorrow presses her brows into a frown. Her silk fan stirs the clear autumn air; in the depths of her heart, she softly pours out her grievances. The green reflections scattered in the dream window. As spring deepens and green waters rise, fallen blossoms drift fragrant on the waves. Perhaps there is a place where broken red petals flow, bearing a secret inscription of remembrance. A joyful toast. Eaves flowers drip softly. I send off an old friend, his face powder and makeup renewed. The dripping clepsydra invades the jade zither; the clear notes ring out, then break, as the bright moon plays among the clouds. I fear the 'Rainbow Skirt' will end before it is done, and the phoenix-winged carriage will urge me away. The guest who delights in the banquet still does not know me. I am worn thin in Dongyang; before the lamp, no dream can bring me there. The road is cut off by layered clouds; the wild geese fly north."

(2) Zhang Yan's "Near the Terrace of Yingying" ("Talking over old times with Zhou Caocang") reads: "The water runs deep, the flowers bloom in profusion. The trees south of the Han River stand lonely. Turning back, I see the shade of green; the blossoming season has vanished all at once. Who knows how much sorrow I feel? Last night, wind and rain. Still, I dream of the place where the broken red petals flow. There is nothing more groundless. For years I have lived in the empty mountains, hidden from the world. Sorrow finds its way into Yu Liang's lines. The jade is old, the fields lie barren; my heart's concerns have already grown old. Again and again, I hear the cuckoo cry, 'Better go home.' It will never be like the parrot of old."