Xie Daoyun, a celebrated woman of talent in history, came from Yangxia, Chen Commandery (present-day Taikang County, Henan Province). She was the daughter of Xie Yi, the Eastern Jin's Grand General Who Pacifies the West, and the niece of Xie An, the dynasty's renowned chief minister. Of the stories about Xie Daoyun, the one people knew best was "chanting of willow fluff."
Entry seventy-one in "Shishuo" in A New Account of Tales of the World recorded: "On a cold, snowy day, Grand Tutor Xie gathered his family indoors and discussed literary meanings with the younger generation. Before long, the snow grew heavy, and he asked delightedly, 'What does this white snow falling thick and fast resemble?' His brother's son Hu'er said, 'Salt scattered in the air would make a fair comparison.' His brother's daughter said, 'Better yet, willow fluff rising on the wind.' The grand tutor laughed with delight. She was the daughter of his eldest brother Wuyi and the wife of Wang Ningzhi, General of the Left." The Xies were a great scholarly family of officials, and the adults often gathered with their children and grandchildren to discuss literature. As it happened, heavy snow was falling, so Xie An took the opportunity to test his nephews and niece: "Look at this snow swirling down. What do you think would make a good comparison?" Xie Lang rushed to answer, "I think it looks like salt being scattered in the air." Now, although this comparison was not particularly apt, it was passable; it would not have been unsuitable for describing granular snow. After all, Xie Lang was a young gentleman of the Xie family. His elders were all accomplished writers, and, steeped in their influence, he presumably had a fair amount of literary inspiration himself. The Supplement to the Annals of Jin described him as "brilliant in literary exposition, his reputation second to Xuan's." Xie Xuan was the Eastern Jin deputy commander-in-chief at the famous Battle of Fei River (the commander-in-chief was his uncle Xie An), so saying that Xie Lang's "reputation was second to Xuan's" implied that he ranked just below Xie Xuan. Besides, historical records did not clearly state exactly how old Xie Lang was then, but he was estimated to have been no more than ten, so we should not dismiss his comparison. Unfortunately for Xie Lang, however, he had an extraordinarily clever younger sister, who immediately made him pale by comparison. Xie Daoyun likened snowflakes to Liu Xu drifting through the air-a truly brilliant literary touch.
From then on, the story of Xie Daoyun "chanting of snow" spread, and "chanting of willow fluff" became a byword for a gifted woman. In Dream of the Red Chamber, Cao Xueqin wrote the line "Pity her willow-fluff-chanting talent" in the verdict verse for Lin Daiyu, his beloved creation, drawing on this allusion to convey her exceptional gifts.
Xie Daoyun lived during the Eastern Jin, when grace of spirit and bearing were admired and the legacy of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove still lingered. Born into an eminent family and overflowing with talent herself, she acted with a free, unrestrained air, much like a man. Entry thirty in "Worthy Ladies" in A New Account of Tales of the World recorded: "Xie E held his elder sister in the highest esteem, while Zhang Xuan often praised his younger sister, wishing to set her against Xie's. A certain Nun Ji visited both the Zhang and Xie families. When asked which woman was superior, she answered, 'Madam Wang is open and serene in spirit, with the air of one beneath the forest trees; the Gu family's daughter-in-law has a pure heart that shines like jade and is naturally an outstanding woman of the inner chambers.'" "Open and serene in spirit" and "the air of one beneath the forest trees" could be said to capture Xie Daoyun's character and temperament. "Beneath the forest trees" referred to the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove at the transition between the Wei and Jin, who were renowned for their free and expansive conduct. This little story brought out Xie Daoyun's distinctiveness through contrast, painting the clouds to set off the moon. The Xie E in the account was Xie Xuan, who thought very highly of his elder sister Daoyun, while Zhang Xuan praised his own younger sister. What Zhang Xuan meant was: Xie E (Xie Xuan's childhood name), your sister is excellent, certainly, but mine is no worse. Surely placing her alongside yours would not lower your sister's standing? The two men each sang the praises of their own sister; perhaps there was even a battle of spear-like tongues and sword-like words. A Buddhist nun called Nun Ji had dealings with both the Xie and Zhang families, so people asked her to compare Daoyun with Zhang Xuan's sister. Nun Ji said, "Madam Wang (meaning Xie Daoyun, who married Wang Ningzhi, whom we will introduce below) has an easy, elegant bearing, very much in the manner of the celebrated scholars of the Bamboo Grove. The Gu family's daughter-in-law (meaning Zhang Xuan's sister, who married into the Gu family) has a pure heart, like a piece of fine jade, and is naturally outstanding among women." Nun Ji was very clever herself: rather than say outright who was better or worse, she merely described each woman's characteristics. She left her listeners to savor the meaning behind her words. Given the prevailing tastes of the Eastern Jin, an intelligent listener could immediately tell that Nun Ji admired Daoyun more. Zhang Xuan's sister was outstanding among women, which was certainly very good, but Xie Daoyun went one better and could stand shoulder to shoulder with men. Who knew how Zhang Xuan felt after hearing Nun Ji's assessment? Whether he accepted it or not, her judgment continued to circulate in later ages and could be considered a "verdict for all time" on Xie Daoyun.
Xie Daoyun showed no mercy when criticizing her younger brother Xie Xuan. Entry twenty-eight in "Worthy Ladies" in A New Account of Tales of the World recorded: "The wife of Wang, Governor of Jiangzhou, said to Xie E, 'Why have you made no further progress at all? Is it because worldly affairs occupy your mind, or because your natural gifts are limited?'" Xie Daoyun said to Xie Xuan, "What is wrong with you? Your learning has not advanced in the slightest. Is your mind entirely on trivial worldly affairs, or are your natural gifts limited?" That was a merciless criticism indeed. Just think: Xie Xuan was one of the Eastern Jin's great generals, campaigning north and south, his commands stirring wind and cloud, yet his sister described him as either sunk in worldly concerns or possessed of only ordinary talent and limited understanding. Ah, with such an extraordinary sister, however excellent one might be, one was still no more than a common creature in her eyes.
Daoyun's remarks about her husband were even more cutting. Entry twenty-six in "Worthy Ladies" in A New Account of Tales of the World recorded: "After Madam Xie, Wang Ningzhi's wife, married into the Wang Clan, she held Ningzhi in great contempt. When she returned to the Xie household, she was deeply unhappy. The grand tutor comforted her, saying, 'Wang Lang is Yishao's son, and his talents and character are not bad. Why are you so dissatisfied?' She answered, 'Among the uncles of our family are Ada and the Gentleman General; among our cousins are Feng, Hu, E, and Mo. I never imagined that between heaven and earth there could be such a person as Wang Lang!'" After Daoyun married into the Wang family, she looked down on Ningzhi greatly. When she returned to her natal home, she was unhappy, and Xie An, seeing this, hurried to comfort his precious niece. He said to her, "Wang Lang is the son of Yishao (meaning Wang Xizhi), and his talents and character are quite acceptable. What more are you dissatisfied with?" Daoyun complained, "Among my uncles are such figures as Xie Shang and Xie Wan, and among my brothers and cousins are such talented men as Xie Shao, Xie Lang, Xie Xuan, and Xie Yuan. Who would have thought that between heaven and earth there could be someone like Wang Lang?"
Look at that-she all but declared Wang Ningzhi worthless. At this point, we should explain something about him. Wang Ningzhi was the second son of the celebrated Eastern Jin calligrapher Wang Xizhi. Born into a great aristocratic family, he too possessed literary elegance, was skilled in cursive and clerical script, and was an honest, decent man. For generations, the Wang family had devoutly followed the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice (the earliest branch of Daoism, founded by Zhang Daoling during the reign of Emperor Shun of the Eastern Han; anyone joining had to contribute five pecks of rice, hence its name. It honored Laozi as its spiritual master, took the Classic of the Way and Virtue and Zhang Daoling's Xiang'er Commentary on Laozi as its fundamental scriptures, and regarded attaining immortality as its highest goal), and Ningzhi was especially devout. When the rebel Sun En invaded Kuaiji (present-day Shaoxing, Zhejiang), Wang Ningzhi, its chief official, actually told the common people and his officials, "There is no need for us to prepare defenses. I have already appealed to the Daoist deity, who has promised to send ghost soldiers to help us. The rebel Sun will naturally be defeated without our attacking." Look how far Wang Ningzhi's worship of the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice had gone. With a mighty enemy before him, instead of organizing soldiers and civilians to resist, he pinned his hopes on insubstantial ghosts and gods. He was truly beyond saving. And what happened? Sun En entered Kuaiji without losing a single soldier, while Wang Ningzhi received no protection from the ghosts and gods he trusted. Sun En killed him, and his children were dragged into the disaster as well. Really, Wang Ningzhi's death was both lamentable and infuriating. No wonder the gifted woman of the Xie family thought so little of him, whatever his good qualities. Looking back now at Daoyun's assessment of her husband, it was cutting indeed. Every one of the Xie family's young men was outstanding; compared with them, Wang Ningzhi was earth to their heaven, not to be spoken of in the same breath. Our poor second young master Wang, who did, after all, come from an illustrious family, was described by his wife as utterly without merit. Still, it was fortunate that Daoyun was born in the Eastern Jin. Had she lived in the later Ming or Qing, it would have been strange indeed if she had not been punished for "gross disrespect" toward her husband. But we must add a few words: although Xie Daoyun was profoundly dissatisfied with her husband, after marrying into the Wang family she observed her wifely duties with the utmost scrupulousness and earned the family's praise. Besides, as the saying goes, "Marry a rooster, follow the rooster; marry a dog, follow the dog." Divorce was not the fashion then, unlike today, when a woman dissatisfied with her husband can fire him. Her husband held Kuaiji, and naturally Daoyun accompanied him. Unfortunate enough to have a husband who failed her and would not resist the enemy, she could only do her utmost to protect herself. When Sun En's rebel troops entered Kuaiji, she remained composed and showed no panic. On hearing that her husband and children had all been killed, she organized a band of maidservants to resist desperately and killed several enemies with her own hands. We can picture the bearing of a delicate woman leading others into battle; her extraordinary valor especially commands the boundless admiration of later generations. But how could a hastily assembled band withstand Sun En's wolfish, tigerish rebels? In the end, Daoyun was captured. At the time, her little grandson through her daughter, Liu Tao, was only a few years old, yet Sun En would not spare even a small child and wanted to kill him. Daoyun declared with righteous firmness, "This is a matter concerning our Wang family. What has it to do with relatives through marriage? If you must kill him, kill me first." Cruel and lawless though Sun En was, confronted by Daoyun's imposing righteousness, he finally agreed not to kill Liu Tao and released Xie Daoyun. From then on, Daoyun lived as a widow in Kuaiji. Though a woman, she remained calm when faced with the enemy, fought bravely, and dared to offer her own life to protect another. I imagine that many men would have admitted their bearing fell short of hers.
While Daoyun was living as a widow in Kuaiji, its governor Liu Liu, who had long heard of her reputation, called on her to discuss philosophical principles. Daoyun did not refuse him. Without powder or rouge and dressed in plain clothes, she calmly received Liu Liu, and the two enjoyed their conversation greatly. Daoyun's bearing was lofty and her speech exceptional. When she spoke with Liu Liu about her family and recalled how her husband and sons had all been killed during the resistance, her words grew impassioned and tears streamed down her face. Later, they returned to philosophical principles, and Daoyun spoke with assurance, her ideas lofty and far-reaching, her manner calm and unhurried. Liu Liu was wholly won over by her bearing. Daoyun also said, "My loved ones have all passed away. Meeting this scholar and hearing his words has truly opened my heart and mind." Daoyun and Liu Liu could be said to have recognized and cherished one another's worth, each admiring the other, and their encounter became a much-told tale at the time.
Xie Daoyun's husband and children all died at the rebels' hands, and her later years must have been lonely. According to the Records of the Unseen World, as quoted in the Extensive Records of the Taiping Era, after her sons died, Xie Clan was overcome with grief and wept for six years. Then one day, her two sons suddenly returned together, both wearing cangues and chains. They urged their mother, "You need not grieve. Let us go. We were taken to the underworld because we had sinned. From now on, simply pray for blessings on our behalf." Daoyun ceased grieving from then on and instead frequently made offerings and appeals to the spirits to seek atonement for her two sons. This account was presumably the author's invention. It was common for a mother to miss her sons after their deaths, and it was also possible for excessive longing to leave her dazed and distracted. Thus, what was recorded above might have been Daoyun's hallucination, or perhaps something she dreamed and told others upon waking, which some collector of curiosities then recorded as a strange tale. In any case, for the white-haired to bury the black-haired is always one of life's great sorrows. That Xie Clan suffered the loss of her sons cannot but make us grieve and weep for the misfortune of this gifted woman of her age.
Xie Daoyun's emergence in the Eastern Jin was no accident but had various external and internal causes. First, the entire Wei and Jin period was an age of tremendous liberation in scholars' minds and spirits. The classical scholarship of the Han dynasty came under considerable challenge during the Wei and Jin, and a vogue for individual freedom spread throughout society. Along with it, people's views of women advanced considerably beyond those of the preceding Han dynasty. Women were permitted a certain degree of freedom and individuality, and people quite admired that individuality. Otherwise, Liu Yiqing, a member of the imperial clan, could not have included some of Daoyun's words and deeds in "Worthy Ladies" in his A New Account of Tales of the World. It was thanks to that work that Xie Daoyun's words and deeds, and others' assessments of her, survived. A look at the account of Xie Daoyun in the Book of Jin: Exemplary Women reveals that much of the Book of Jin drew on A New Account of Tales of the World. Of course, the fact that the Book of Jin, a historical work, directly borrowed so much material from an anecdotal work of fiction led later generations to criticize its reliability. Some of its accounts might differ slightly from history, but they were broadly accurate. Besides, did everything recorded in works proclaimed to be "official histories" accord with actual history? We have strayed a little far from our subject; let us return to the gifted Madam Xie. The broader external environment was as described above. Only such an environment could have produced such a Daoyun, and this was her first great piece of good fortune. Her second was being born into a great aristocratic family. To preserve their family standing, such families placed great importance on educating their children, which was why the Xie family produced so many talented men. Daoyun received a good education from childhood and laid a firm foundation in her early training. Her third great piece of good fortune was marrying into the Wang family. The Wangs were in no way inferior to the Xies; the two families were pearls joined with jade, and this naturally nurtured Daoyun's extraordinary, unworldly temperament as a married woman. Finally, Xie Daoyun became who she was in no small part because of her own intelligence and love of learning. Had she herself neglected her studies or possessed limited natural gifts, even the best external circumstances would have been in vain. In short, these four factors together created the unique Xie Daoyun, and she must be considered extremely fortunate. Gifted women of later ages, such as Li Qingzhao, were fortunate too, but the dynasty in which Li Qingzhao lived lacked the admiration for grace of bearing and temperament that marked Daoyun's age. Thus, Qingzhao's personal charm fell short of Daoyun's. During the Song, Ming, and Qing, Neo-Confucianism prevailed, fettering women's thoughts and individuality. In such a social environment, it was difficult for a gifted woman like Xie Daoyun to emerge. Instead, it was courtesans unfettered by prevailing conventions, such as Li Shishi, Ma Xianglan, and Liu Rushi, who left their names and deeds to posterity.
Yet Daoyun was unfortunate too. The loss of both husband and sons was something most people would find unbearable, and her final years must have been bleak. How closely this resembled Li Qingzhao's experience of living through upheaval, losing her husband in middle age, and spending her later years lonely and impoverished!
Daoyun had many talents and naturally wrote many fine works. Her poems, rhapsodies, eulogies, and elegies were very popular in her day, but the only works surviving now are the two classical poems "Climbing the Mountain" and "Imitating Ji Zhongsan's Ode to Pines," along with "Eulogy on the Analects." For later generations, this cannot but be a matter of regret.
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