Three Kingdoms and Chinese Culture Three Kingdoms and Chinese Culture Edited by Kimberly Besio and Constantine Tung THREE KINGDOMS AND CHINESE CULTURE SUNY Series in Chinese Philosophy and Culture Roger T. Ames, editor THREE KINGDOMS AND CHINESE CULTURE Edited by Kimberly Besio and Constantine Tung STATE UNIVERSITY OF NEW YORK PRESS Published by State University of New York Press Albany © 2007 State University of New York All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. No part of this book may be stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. Cover art: “Returning to Jingzhou” courtesy of The Hermitage, St. Petersburg For information, address State University of New York Press 194 Washington Avenue, Suite 305, Albany, NY 12210-2384 Production, Diane Ganeles Marketing, Michael Campochiaro Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Three kingdoms and Chinese culture / edited by Kimberly Besio, Constantine Tung. p. cm. — (SUNY series in chinese philosophy and culture) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-0-7914-7011-4 (hbk. : alk. paper) 1. Luo, Guanzhong, ca. 1330–ca. 1400. San guo zhi yan yi. I. Besio, Kimberly Ann. II. Tung, Constantine. III. Series. PL2690.S33T47 2007 895.1'346—dc22 2006013802 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 v Contents � Foreword: The Language of Values in the Ming Novel Three Kingdoms vii Moss Roberts Acknowledgments xv Introduction xvii Kimberly Besio and Constantine Tung Part I Three Kingdoms and Chinese Values  Cosmic Foreordination and Human Commitment: The Tragic Volition in Three Kingdoms 3 Constantine Tung  Essential Regrets: The Structure of Tragic Consciousness in Three Kingdoms 15 Dominic Cheung  The Notion of Appropriateness (Yi) in Three Kingdoms 27 Jiyuan Yu Part II Three Kingdoms and Chinese History  The Beginning of the End: The Fall of the Han and the Opening of Three Kingdoms 43 George A. Hayden  Selected Historical Sources for Three Kingdoms: Reflections from Sima Guang’s and Chen Liang’s Reconstructions of Kongming’s Story 53 Hoyt Cleveland Tillman Part III Three Kingdoms in Chinese Drama and Art  Zhuge Liang and Zhang Fei: Bowang shao tun and Competing Masculine Ideals within the Development of the Three Kingdoms Story Cycle 73 Kimberly Besio  The Theme of Three Kingdoms in Chinese Popular 87 Woodblock Prints Catherine Pagani  Three Kingdoms at the Dawn of the Twenty-First Century: The Shanghai Jingju Company’s Cao Cao and Yang Xiu 111 Elizabeth Wichmann-Walczak Part IV Three Kingdoms in Contemporary East Asia  From Three Kingdoms the Novel to Three Kingdoms the Television Series: Gains, Losses, and Implications 125 Junhao Hong  The Reception and the Place of Three Kingdoms in South Korea 143 Jinhee Kim  Studies of Three Kingdoms in the New Century 153 Bojun Shen Translated by Kimberly Besio Bibliography 167 List of Contributors 179 Index 183 vi Contents vii Foreword Th e Language of Values in the Ming Novel Th ree Kingdoms � Moss Roberts Three Kingdoms (Sanguo yanyi) can be read as a study of values in conflict, such as righteousness (yi) against loyalty (zhong), and filial piety (xiao) against brotherhood (xiongdi). In a time of peace and stability, these ideals should coex- ist and enhance one another; in a time of crisis they may become incompatible. The word yi, a key term in the novel, can be rendered widely in English by any of the following: responsibility, obligation, duty, the Code, commitment, service, cause, self-sacrifice, honor. In his essay in this volume Jiyuan Yu translates the term as “appropriateness.” At the “conventional” end yi refers to the duties required of a particular role. In the “Liyun” chapter of the Liji the phrase “duties of men” (zhongcheng) covers a wide range of social and political obligations including “the father’s kindness, the son’s filiality . . . the ruler’s benevolence, the vassal’s loyalty,” and so on. At the “extreme” end, however, yi involves sacrifice, as in the common phrases jiuyi (to die for the mission) or dayi mieqin (for the sake of the greater cause to destroy family bonds). The phrase yanyi in the novel’s title, really a genre title, probably signifies “elaborating on the moral significances of.” Thus yi in its semantic richness and versatility forms a contrast with the more restricted term zhong. In early and mid Warring States texts zhong typically meant “single- minded sincerity”; by the end of the period, in the Xunzi, for example, it means a vassal’s loyalty to the state or the emperor, as in the “Liyun” phrase cited above, zhongcheng. Thereafter, the word zhong stabilized in that sense, and cheng roughly meant “sincerity.” The common compound zhongcheng probably is a synonym compound, “true-hearted sincerity.” Ideally, zhong and yi, loyalty and honor, should reinforce each other. In chapter 1 of Three Kingdoms, when the three brothers take an oath jieyi (binding their honor) to die for one another and to aid the Han royal house, zhong and yi are aligned. The brothers’ mutual commitment (yi) supports their loyal service to the Han throne. At a later point in the narrative, however, the two values become opposed. When Cao Cao captures Lord Guan (Guan Yu), Lord Guan chooses not to die honorably for his lord, Liu Bei (Xuande), who has disappeared in the chaos of battle; instead Lord Guan surrenders to Cao Cao, stipulating that his surrender is to the Han throne and not to Cao Cao, who is virtually the shogun of the Han dynasty. In this way Lord Guan turns his submission to Cao Cao into an act of loyalty to the Han emperor, a virtual puppet of Cao Cao. Soon after, upon discovering that Liu Bei still lives, Lord Guan chooses to honor his commitment to his elder brother Liu Bei: he leaves Cao Cao’s service to rejoin Liu Bei. At this point yi again takes precedence over zhong. The ambiguity of values here is reflected in Zhang Fei’s behavior. The third brother has become suspicious of Lord Guan’s sojourn with Cao Cao, and attacks Lord Guan for betraying Liu Bei (chapter 28). It falls to Liu Bei’s wives to defend Lord Guan’s conduct and avert a showdown between the two brothers. Two decades later, in the final crisis brought on by Shu’s ill-fated invasion of Wu, it is Liu Bei’s turn to repay Lord Guan’s devotion. The Southland leader Sun Quan has captured Lord Guan and put him to death; Liu Bei decides to avenge his brother (to satisfy the demands of yi) by leading the Riverland (Shu-Han) attack on the Southland (Wu). By launching this invasion, Liu Bei forsakes his quest to overthrow the usurping Wei dynasty and restore the Han (zhong). Kongming (Zhuge Liang), who stands for zhong and for xiao, but not for yi, had opposed this campaign, just as he has had his doubts about the brotherhood all along. The nov- elist, however, means to show that yi prevails over zhong. It is perhaps for this very reason—namely, the brothers’ commitment to one another rather than to Liu Bei’s imperial career—that readers have taken the three into their hearts. If for the brothers yi takes precedence over zhong, it also takes precedence over family ties and values. The rubric phrase comes from the Zuozhuan (Yin 4): dayi mieqin. This means “for the sake of the higher cause to sacrifice the bonds of kin- ship.” The principle of dayi mieqin is enacted in the opening of chapter 42 of Three Kingdoms, when Liu Bei hurls (or pretends to hurl) his newborn son, A Dou, to the ground. Zhao Zilong had found A dou stranded on a battlefield, carried him safely back to camp, and then presented the baby to Liu Bei. (The novelist gives the task of saving A Dou to Zhao Zilong because Zilong belongs to Kongming’s camp and is not part of the fraternity.) But instead of gratefully rewarding Zhao Zilong, Liu Bei throws A Dou aside, crying out, “For the sake of an infant I risked losing a com- mander!” Perhaps Liu Bei intended an homage to the first Han emperor, Liu Bang, who is occasionally invoked in the novel. Fleeing Xiang Yu’s cavalry, Liu Bang offers to throw his son from his carriage to lighten it, as recounted in the Shiji’s “Annals for Xiang Yu.” Both leaders, Liu Bang and Liu Bei, have good reasons for publicly rejecting their sons. viii Moss Roberts Why do Liu Bei and Liu Bang reject their offspring? Why does Agamemnon sacrifice Iphigenia? Why does Abraham offer up Isaac? Each case exemplifies the rejection of qin (kin) for the sake of yi, as a means both to sustain morale among the followers and to protect a leadership position by a transcendent self-denial. This shows the power of the term yi to bind commitment outside as well as inside con- ventional relationships; zhong and xiao apply only within established relationships. Yi is an outer virtue. The sacrifice of personal interest and affection to the larger mission (dayi) enhances a leader’s virtue and stature. In the specific circumstances of Three Kingdoms, Liu Bei is putting the principle of brotherhood above narrow family interest. An underdog contender, Liu Bei does not want his brothers and comrades to see him give in to a fatherly concern, lest it threaten the solidarity on which the whole military enterprise depends. And yet, the father-son relationship is the bedrock of dynastic government in that it effectively addresses the all-impor- tant succession problem. Every king must name an heir or risk losing control of the succession. This is the very reason Kongming values the filial tie above all others. Is it possible, then, to reconcile fraternal comradeship and filial dynasty building? I think that this is the principal problematic of Three Kingdoms. � In the Analects, xiao (filial piety), is a primary value and generally in harmony with state service and loyalty. “It is rare for someone who is filial and fraternal to defy his superiors” (Analects 1.2). The Analects advocates the integration of family and state roles in such phrases as jun jun chen chen, fu fu zi zi, which means “Let the ruler rule as he should and then the ministers will serve as they should; let the father guide as he should and then the sons will serve as they should” (Analects 12.11). Notwithstanding the placement of loyalty first in this formula, we still find an Analects passage where political and familial loyalty conflict, and Confu- cius requires the subordination of zhong to xiao, state to family. In Analects 13.18 Confucius expresses disapproval of a son who reports his father to the authorities for stealing a sheep. Filial piety is the core value, the cornerstone of the Confucian ethical sys- tem. The “Zengzi” chapters of the Da Dai Liji are organized around this prin- ciple. The bond of father and son supports and integrates all other relationships. For the Analects and most other Confucian texts the junzi (noble man, man of honor) is the central figure. The junzi is an idealized royal son, fit either to rule or to support a ruler. But the junzi is also more than that; he is a humanitarian. Perhaps this is why in the Analects, we find connected to xiao some recognition of the complementary and faintly egalitarian principle of brotherhood (ti). The best-known instance is the above-cited Analects 1.2. Youzi, perhaps Confucius’s leading disciple, combines xiao with ti, to make of each equally, the foundation of ren, the broad humanitarian principle that is the paramount sociopolitical value of the Confucians. Thus, Youzi used the brother-tie to widen the scope of filial Foreword ix discipline. Despite holding a major place in the Analects (Youzi is the text’s sec- ond speaker, appearing only after Confucius in book 1), Youzi seems less impor- tant than other disciples; and xiao and ti are combined only one other time in the Analects, whose editors may not have done Youzi justice. We read in the Mencius (MIIIA.4) that after Confucius’s death three noted disciples (Zizhang, Zixia, and Ziyou) had tried to put Youzi in the Master’s place, only to be thwarted by Zengzi. Note that Zixia speaks the famous phrase “within the four seas all are brothers; need a man of honor fear having no brothers?” (Analects 12.5). Zixia spoke these words to comfort Sima Niu for lacking kinsmen. Perhaps, Zixia and Youzi were part of a fraternité faction close to the Mohists, for whom the principle of jian ai, comprehensive love, was a family-transcending ideal. Zengzi, the famed exponent of filial duty, blocked this proposal to anoint Youzi as Confucius’s heir; the “Zengzi” chapters never mention ti. (And Confucius, as Sima Qian tells us—perhaps ironically—in his “Kongzi shijia,” died without naming an heir, mo neng zong yu.) Not only did Zengzi emphasize xiao, but also he is the disciple credited with emphasizing the bond between family and state. Zengzi reinforced the doctrine of xiao as state ethic. Zengzi also links xiao with zhong in the Zengzi chapters, but he still used zhong in its older sense of “single- minded dedication.” The compound zhong-xiao occurs as early as the Later Han, but does not become a keynote value until the neo-Confucian era. From the Song period on down, in Japanese (chû-kô) as well as in Chinese, we find the binom is pervasive, and always in the sequence zhong-xiao (never xiao-zhong), crystallizing the primacy of state over family. As a touchstone of the ideology of Chinese civilization, zhong-xiao prevailed. Youzi’s idea of balancing (if not equalizing) filial and fraternal devotion, of widen- ing xiao to include ti, did not develop in the main Confucian tradition. Tied to and shaped by xiao, ti was limited to mean obedience to the elder brother. An interest- ing instance of xiao-ti is in the Guodian text Liu de, where it seems to mean “family values.” In this text, family takes precedence over state: “[S]ever relations with the ruler before severing relations with the father.” In the Analects, however, only traces of xiao-ti survive, as we have seen. Mencius saved something of Youzi’s xiao-ti formula, though in weakened form, by linking filial piety to ren and fraternal love to yi. Ren-yi exists in the Men- cius mainly as a bound term, and sometimes seems equivalent to “civilized values.” Seldom taking up yi as an independent value—indeed, opposed to construing yi as an “outer ethic”—Mencius often speaks of ren as a gate and yi as a road, ren implying an orientation or direction or even a frame of mind, in contrast to yi, the actual course of conduct. Thus, for the most part yi was subordinate to ren. Much as ren-yi seems to function as a term that transcends its components, with a meaning like “civilized values,” so xiao-ti probably meant little more than family values—filial service and fraternal harmony. The two terms lose their individual force and the first dominates. Perhaps allowing ti to have equal status with xiao would have made inheritance patterns too chaotic. Perhaps there was enough to do x Moss Roberts to control the sons of multiple wives without the complications that including the claims of brothers (and the nephews) would create. Wasn’t this one of the lessons of the round-robin interkingdom wars of the entire Warring States era, wars driven by succession crises? Thus, xiao become the dominant value. The main Confucian interest was sup- porting aristocratic lineage. The impulse to limit, refine, or reform xiao never pre- vailed, because generational continuity, meaning stability of inheritance of position and property, was all-important to the Confucians, who spoke for the landholder lords and the state bureaucracy that served them. And those interests prevailed over the idealist strains in the tradition. Zhuge Liang’s political orthodoxy on this point is underscored by his hao: Kongming, “wise as Confucius.” � In Chinese culture, brotherhood, as an independent relationship outside the estab- lished roles, acquired a quasi-subversive significance. Though not called ti, but rather baixiongdi, fraternal devotion severed from filiality and family, or in conflict with them, is the crucial relationship in certain major works of Chinese fiction, among them Three Kingdoms and of course Shuihu zhuan or Outlaws of the Marsh. In the latter work, the central figure is Song Jiang. He aids, joins, and eventually leads the outlaw brotherhood, but his filial devotion conflicts with his commit- ment to his brothers. And this contradiction not only defines his character, but also drives the narrative’s dialectical swings between rebellion and capitulation. Perhaps fraternité would be a translation for jieyi (strangers taking an oath of brotherhood), distinguishing it from the more limited fraternal devotion (ti), which is restricted to blood brothers. Notice particularly the independent use of yi and the absence of the more familial ren in this brotherhood discourse. The brother- oath has a touch of the “barbarian” as well as the underworld about it, since most Ming readers would remember that before going into battle Mongol warriors took the anda or the pact of brothers-in-arms, the band of brothers. In the first chapter of Three Kingdoms, three unrelated warrior-heroes-to- be—Liu Bei, Lord Guan, and Zhang Fei—pledge a fraternal oath in the Peach Garden (the peach symbolizes fidelity in marriage according to Shijing ode 6, “Tao yao”). The three loyally place themselves at the service of the Han emperor Ling, and win signal honors in suppressing the Yellow Scarves revolt. In effect, the oath ties loyalty to brotherhood and xiao is left out. The brothers’ oath supersedes all other family ties, with the exception of the useful claim that Liu Bei is a dis- tant relation of the emperor. This family connection counteracts the barbarian or underworld taint on a brotherhood formed by strangers, and it also endows Liu Bei with a degree of lineage prestige or virtue, for he is a Liu and thus can claim royal blood and a remote right of succession. At the same time, the brotherhood’s moral standing is enhanced by contrast with established families in power, both at the imperial court and in the regional capitals. These families are breaking apart due Foreword xi to succession conflicts among sons and brothers—manifest failures of both xiao and ti. In these ancillary conflicts the junior usually displaces the senior brother—a sign of moral disorder and a harbinger of political disintegration. Dong Zhuo com- mits the same offense against descent protocol when he deposes Shaodi (age 14) and enthrones his younger brother Xiandi (age 9), who reigns until the end of the Han. With conventional family bonds breaking down at the dynastic and regional governing levels, the Peach Garden brotherhood initially offers a possible new way to organize political rule, a reaching toward something like fraternité, even egalité. (Shui hu further develops this theme in a revolutionary direction.) But can dynastic government be organized this way? Can the realm be gov- erned on such a principle? The author of the novel raises the question but does not resolve it. He simply shows the conflict between fraternité and dynasty (with its dependence on xiao) as forms of organization, and he portrays Liu Bei as the liminal figure who must choose between the two. Note, for example, how Liu Bei’s adoption of Kou Feng annoys his two brothers, who protest their elder brother’s acquisition of a son with the remark, “What do you want with another’s young?” Later the other two brothers acquire families, too. These acts and other instances of filial relations and responsibilities weaken their fraternal bond. Another example of the conflict between family and comrade solidarity con- cerns Liu Bei’s loss of Shan Fu, his first military adviser. Cao Cao manages to lure Shan Fu to his camp by appeals to his filial piety. In order to win Shan Fu over, Cao Cao has taken Shan Fu’s mother prisoner and uses her handwriting to forge letters to her son calling him home. Taken in by Cao Cao’s ruse, Shan Fu tells Liu Bei he must leave his service to go to his mother. An adviser urges Liu Bei to kill Shan Fu because he knows so much about the brothers’ military operations, but Liu Bei magnanimously lets Shan Fu go over to the enemy side. When Shan Fu reaches his mother, however, she condemns him for joining Cao Cao and then hangs herself, both to shame her son and to prevent him from serving Cao Cao. The incident puts filial piety in a negative light on the mother’s authority. The parting of Liu Bei and Shan Fu is a crucial episode forming the bridge to the imminent meeting between Liu Bei and Kongming. Each man tests the other. Liu Bei needs to confirm that Shan Fu will not serve Cao Cao; Shan Fu needs to verify Liu Bei’s acclaimed high-mindedness. In their parting scene Shan Fu reas- sures Liu Bei that he will never use his knowledge to aid Cao Cao. But he remains unconvinced that Liu Bei will actually let him go. It is a defining moment. Only after he has ridden safely beyond reach can Shan Fu confirm to his own satisfac- tion Liu Bei’s legendary virtue. Having done so, he then rides back to Liu Bei and recommends Kongming. Mindful of Liu Bei’s need for a substitute adviser, Shan Fu describes Kongming’s talents and urges Liu Bei to seek him out. Then he parts with Liu Bei for the second time. In one of the novel’s humorous touches, Shan Fu rides by Kongming’s dwelling to inform him that Liu Bei may visit. When Shan Fu knocks on the gate, Kongming receives his visitor personally and promptly. (Later Kongming will compel Liu Bei to make three arduous trips before gaining an xii Moss Roberts audience.) In this way the novel prepares the reader for the entry of Zhuge Liang (Kongming) in chapters 36–37. Kongming represents the traditional values of filiality bonded to loyalty; he proves to be an ideal dutiful son to Liu Bei, a veritable Analects junzi. His fidel- ity to his roles contrasts with Cao Cao, who overreaches as prime minister and becomes a usurper for his clan. Later in the story, Kongming (together with Zhao Zilong) supports Liu Bei’s natural son Liu Shan (A Dou) as the rightful successor to the throne of Shu-Han. Liu Bei views Kongming (twenty years his junior) as the ideal prime minister and political counselor. But the brothers see him as a threat to themselves and the brotherhood, and they show their hostility to the young con- sigliere. For his part, Kongming is determined not to serve under Liu Bei until he has established his authority over Lord Guan and Zhang Fei. Thereafter, he makes a point of humbling them at every opportunity, while seeking to educate Zhang Fei. The ideal vassal, he wants the brothers to show loyalty to Liu Bei, to serve him as subordinates and vassals, not as brothers; he is hostile to the quasi-egalitarian brother-bond even if he recognizes its military usefulness. But Kongming will not win his battle against the brotherhood. The contradiction between the filial and the fraternal reaches a climax when Liu Bei has to choose between his role as elder brother and his role as father- emperor. After Cao Cao and the Southern leaders capture and execute Lord Guan, the Peach Garden oath is inevitably invoked. Liu Bei yields to Zhang Fei’s pleas and decides to avenge his fallen brother. Significantly, Lord Guan has brought defeat on himself by putting his parental interest above Liu Bei’s political cause. Lord Guan’s refusal to let his daughter marry Sun Quan’s son violates Kongming’s primary strategic principle: protect the alliance with the south in order to maintain a united front against the Cao-Wei northern kingdom. Kongming tries his best to assure Liu Bei that after Wei is defeated, the South will fall, but Liu Bei remains determined to attack the South at once, sacrificing his imperial hopes to honor the brother-oath. Thus yi prevails over zhong, brother-bond over jun-chen, and military solidarity over dynastic politics. Lord Guan’s death has forced on Liu Bei a fateful choice: to attack the South at once rather than follow Kongming’s long-range war plan. Kongming’s bitterness over Liu Bei’s choice is immortalized in the last line of Du Fu’s poem “Bazhentu” (The Maze of Eight Ramparts): “A legacy of rue / that his king had choked on Wu”(end of chapter 84). The failure of the attack on the Southland does not mean that the novelist finally rejects the brotherhood principle. The novel does not validate either the suc- cession of Liu Shan or the brotherhood; both lead to failure. Dynastic politics are criticized, but no cure is proposed. Three Kingdoms is a problem novel. To Ming readers some twelve centuries later, the failure of Kongming’s plan to save the Han dynasty sounds the tragic doom of Chinese civilization as a unified imperium. The grandeur and the glory of Han were rapidly fading. And Kongming, not the broth- erhood, represents an idealized Han dynasty that might have been restored. The historical reunification under the Jin dynasty (with which the novel ends) was a Foreword xiii weak stay against the northern foes. The Jin lasted one generation, from 280 to 317. Thus, the fall of the Han meant that invading powers were to play a large role in a China that remained divided for almost four hundred years, until the Sui-Tang reunification at the beginning of the seventh century. The interim was marked by short dynasties, with no magnificent lineage like that of the Han, and no vast integrated territory governed by a unified bureau- cracy; and Buddhism became more ideologically powerful than Confucianism. The Han became the archetype of dynastic achievement, perhaps never again to be equaled, but always alive in the collective imagination. If the author of Three Kingdoms had any contemporary agenda, perhaps it was to warn whichever Ming emperor(s) reigned during his lifetime about the fragility of political power. For the Ming began with an emperor who imagined himself as following the model of the first Han emperor, Liu Bang, thus creating a standard of self-evaluation for his suc- cessors. The novel, however, dwells not on the first Han reign but on the last. Did the novelist perversely portray the fall of the Han to a dynasty that took the Han as its model? Perhaps China’s only tragic hero in the Shakespearean sense, Kongming is immortalized in Du Fu’s “Lines written in memory of Zhuge Liang, Prime Minis- ter of Shu-Han,” a poem included in chapter 105 of the novel. In the poem Du Fu freezes Kongming in time. Like the figures on Keats’s Grecian urn, fixed in their poses of eternal expectation, Kongming is imagined dying with his men at the front, ever-awaiting word of victory over the Wei, a victory that history never delivered. “His Excellency’s shrine, where would it be found?” “Past Damask Town, where cypresses grow dense.” Its sunlit court, gem-bright greens—a spring unto themselves. Leaf-veiled, the orioles—sweet notes to empty air. Thrice to him Liu Bei sued, keen to rule the realm: Two reigns Kongming served—steady old heart— To die, his host afield, the victory herald yet to come— Weep, O heroes! Drench your fronts, now and evermore. xiv Moss Roberts