The Shadow of the Empire

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The Shadow of the Empire Page 18

by Qiu Xiaolong


  In the first chapter of Dream of the Red Chamber, the novelist Cao Xueqin complains in a short poem, the last two lines of which read: ‘People take the author as crazy; / who can tell the book’s real flavor.’ In the increasingly difficult days in the contemporary China, perhaps the same can be said of The Shadow of the Empire.

  Inspector Chen awakes wondering

  if it is he who dreamed

  of being a butterfly, or if it is

  a butterfly that dreams

  of being Robert van Gulik,

  the manuscript still smelling

  of the fresh and fragrant ink

  from a fox-tail brush pen

  on the desk.

  APPENDIX

  A group of poems written by Xuanji, and by some other poets related to Xuanji, such as Wen Tingyun, Han Shan, and Wu Zetian. Needless to say, Judge Dee was also a poet, though inferior in their company. So his work is not included.

  Xuanji’s Poems

  Willow Trees by the River

  Letter to Wen Tingyun on a Winter Night

  To Zi’an, Looking out across Han River in Sorrow

  To Wen Tingyun

  Letter to Zi’an across Han River

  To a Girl in the Neighborhood

  Letter to a Friend: Thoughts in the Late Spring

  The Flute Sobbing

  The Fading Peony

  Reply to Li Ying’s Letter about Angling

  To Guoxiang

  Farewell

  Grateful Response to Court Secretary Li for His Sending over the Precious Mattress

  To Li Ying on His Return from the Fishing Trip in the Summer

  A Visit to the South-Overlooking Tower in Chongzhen, and to the Post of the Newly Successful Candidates in the Civil Service Examination

  Boudoir Sorrow

  Wen Tingyun’s Poems

  The Islet Enclosed in White Duckweed

  Lament of the Inlaid Lute

  A Green-Shaded Window

  Water-Hourglass

  Thousands of Woes

  Fragrance from the Jade Burner

  Wu Zetian’s Poems

  Red Promenade Skirt

  The Robe to Dee Renjie with the Inscription

  Han Shan’s Poem

  The Stars Spreading Out

  Willow Trees by the River

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  The verdant trees stretching long

  along the desolate bank, a tower distantly

  dissolving into the faint mist,

  petals falling, falling over an angler,

  with the reflection rippling

  on the autumn water,

  the old tree’s root turning

  into a secluded fish-hiding spot,

  and the twigs low-hanging,

  tying a sampan –

  I’m startled out of a dream:

  the night of roaring wind and rain

  is infused with my new worries.

  This is the poem Xuanji wrote at her first meeting with Wen Tingyun, a poem that instantly made her famous in the circle. In classic Chinese poetry, willow is a constantly used image suggesting love, melancholy, languidness. More often than not, those poems present lovers parting with weeping willows in the background.

  Letter to Wen Tingyun on a Winter Night

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Thinking hard, I search for the lines

  to recite under the lamplight,

  too nervous to spend the sleepless,

  long night under the chilly quilt,

  with the leaves trembling, falling

  in the courtyard, fearful

  of the wind coming,

  and the curtain flapping

  forlornly under the moon sinking …

  Busy or not, I am always aware

  of the unquenchable yearning

  deep inside me. My heart remains

  unchanged through the ups and downs.

  The parasol tree being no place

  for perching, a lone bird circles

  the woods at dusk, chirping,

  and chirping in vain.

  Xuanji’s love poems are often in the form of letters to her lovers, among whom Wen Tingyun and Zi’an (Li Yi) were also well-known poets, so they wrote poems in response to each other, as was a popular practice among Chinese literati at the time. Wen was one of the most prominent Tang Dynasty poets, and a number of his poems could have been read as his letters to her. Zi’an, the man who ‘kept’ Xuanji for a short period as his concubine, was a successful official but a lesser poet, and none of his love poem letters to her were passed down to later generations.

  To Zi’an, Looking out across Han River in Sorrow

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Myriads of maple leaves

  upon myriads of maple leaves

  silhouetted against the bridge,

  a few white sails return late in the dusk.

  How do I miss you?

  My thoughts of you run

  like the water in the West River,

  flowing eastward, never-ending,

  day and night.

  To Wen Tingyun

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  The crickets chirruping in confusion

  by the stone steps, the crystal-clear

  dewdrops glistening on the tree leaves

  in the mist-enveloped courtyard,

  the music floating from the neighbors

  under the moonlight, I look out, alone,

  from the high tower to the far-away view

  of the lambent mountains. The wind chilly

  on the bamboo mattress, I can only express

  my sadness through the decorated zither.

  Alas, you are too lazy to write a letter

  to me. What else can possibly come

  to console me in the autumn?

  Letter to Zi’an across Han River

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  The south of the river looking,

  looking across to the north

  of the river, sorrowfully,

  in vain. We keep on missing

  and thinking of those moments

  of reading our lines to each

  other. Inseparable mandarin ducks

  nestling on the warm sandbar,

  and teals flying in pairs

  through the tangerine groves,

  a mist-enveloped song

  barely audible in the dusk,

  the moon shines gloomily

  on the ferry. Alas, I am so far

  from you, as if stranded

  at the other end of the world,

  feeling all the more unbearable

  with the sound of the families beating,

  washing their clothes in the river.

  A number of Xuanji’s love poems to Zi’an present her standing by the river. While working at an official position somewhere else, Zi’an was also watched by his wife who was madly jealous of Xuanji, and he could not come down the river for her.

  To a Girl in the Neighborhood

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  You cover your face with the silk sleeves,

  bashful in the sunlight, too languid

  to apply make-up in the worries

  of the springtime. Alas, it is easier

  to find an extremely valuable treasure

  than a true-hearted lover.

  Weeping against the tear-soaked pillow

  at night, you suffer a heartbreak

  walking in the midst of the flowers.

  With a handsome talent like Song Yu

  beside you, why should you feel bitter

  about a cold-hearted Wang Chang?

  In some Tang Dynasty poetry collections, the poem has another title: To Zi’an. Possibly an alternative title, which in itself speaks of her attachment to him, even in the days after he broke up with her. In the poem, Song Yu was a famous poet also known for his handsome appearance during the spring and autumn time period, and Wang Chang was another legendary good-looking but cold-hearted man in the Tang D
ynasty. In classic Chinese poetry, allusion or intertextuality is frequently employed.

  Letter to a Friend: Thoughts in the Late Spring

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Startled out of the lingering dream

  by the oriole’s chirping, I touch

  my tearful face with a light

  make-up. A thin moon silhouetted

  against the shady bamboo groves,

  along the tranquil riverside,

  the evening mist rising thick,

  the swallows pecking wet soil

  to build their nest, and bees flitting

  among flowers for honey – alone,

  I’m weighed down with all the worries,

  with my self-murmuring

  weighing down the pine branches.

  The Flute Sobbing

  (To the Tune of Yiqin’e)

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  The flute sobbing,

  waking from her dream,

  she sees the moon shining,

  above the high tower. The moon

  shining above the high tower,

  the willows turn green again, year

  after year, along Baling Bridge,

  where lovers sadly part.

  On the Cold Autumn Day

  in Yueyou plateau,

  no dust of a messenger rides

  along the ancient path.

  No dust of a messenger,

  in the west wind, the sun set

  against the Han royal mausoleum.

  The authorship of the poem remains controversial. Some critics attribute it to Li Bai, but in terms of its style, others credit it to Xuanji.

  The Fading Peony

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  So many blossoms falling,

  falling in the wind, I am sighing,

  with the fragrance fading,

  failing in the disappearance

  of yet another spring.

  The peony proves to be too expensive

  for the close-fisted customers,

  and its sweet scent, too strong

  to the flirting butterflies.

  The royal palace alone deserves

  such a blaze of red petals.

  How can the green foliage

  endure the dust and dirt

  by the roadside?

  Only with its transplantation

  into the grand imperial garden

  will those young dandies

  come to regret.

  Regarding the absurd political symbolism of the peony in the Tang Empire, particularly under the reign of Empress Wu, see the discussion in the section when Judge Dee first reads the poem.

  Reply to Li Ying’s Letter about Angling

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  The boundless fragrance of the lotus flower

  is sweet-scenting my summer dress –

  but where are you, my lord?

  When are you coming back,

  paddling the sampan?

  What a shame we are not

  even comparable to a pair

  of mandarin ducks swimming, splashing,

  caring, cherishing, caressing

  each other around the jutting rock

  on which you sit angling.

  Xuanji had a number of admirers, for whom she wrote romantic poems. Li Ying was one of those admirers, who succeeded with flying colors in the capital civil service examination in 855, and was appointed as an official. Li Ying and Xuanji were quite close. And those poems she wrote for him were suggestively salacious. In classical Chinese poetry, the image of mandarin ducks is symbolic of inseparable lovers.

  To Guoxiang

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Drunk at dusk, at dawn, I am missing

  you, and the spring comes again

  in the midst of my missing.

  A messenger journeying through the rain,

  and the solitary one standing

  by the window is suffering

  the heart-breaking pain.

  Lifting the pearl curtain brings

  the view of the distant mountains;

  sadness overwhelms me again

  with the green, sweet-smelling grass.

  Alas, ever since our parting

  at the exquisite banquet,

  how many times the quiet dust

  has fallen from the roof beams?

  Farewell

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  During those soft, tender nights unfolding

  out to my heart’s content

  in the towering boudoir, little did I think

  my ethereal love would one day leave me.

  Waking or dreaming, I care not

  about where the drifting cloud

  is really heading –

  a fading light,

  a fluttering moth.

  Grateful Response to Court Secretary Li for His Sending over the Precious Mattress

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Spreading out the new precious bamboo mattress

  under me in the emerald tower,

  at once I feel the jade-green water rippling,

  in the depth of my heart …

  Alas, like the dumped silk fan

  of the deserted Han imperial concubine,

  the mattress and the fan come to bemoan

  with each other the common fate

  in the autumn’s early arrival.

  Court Secretary Li was none other than Li Ying. A central allusion of the poem is about Ban Jieshu (around 48 BC), an imperial concubine in the Western Han Dynasty, who wrote about the fate of a round fan in the autumn – in subtle comparison to her fate after she was deserted by the emperor. Ezra Pound wrote a short piece in imitation of it. And the mattress in Xuanji’s poem is an image in parallel: in the autumn’s early arrival, it too is cast aside. Xuanji sees the resemblance between the fan and the mattress once they are no longer important to the people who have used them.

  To Li Ying on His Return from the Fishing Trip in the Summer

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Staying in the same lane, we have hardly met

  once through the year. Now

  you’re sending an old acquaintance these cool lines,

  the osmanthus buds newly gathered

  from the sweet-scented tree.

  The Way of the nature conquering

  snow and ice, the heart of Zen

  laughing at the splendor

  of silk and satin. Treading high

  into the Milky Way, we find

  no trail connecting with

  the mist-strewn waves

  down beneath us.

  A Visit to the South-Overlooking Tower in Chongzhen, and to the Post of the Newly Successful Candidates in the Civil Service Examination

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  Amidst the cloud-mantled peaks

  the azure spring sky emerges,

  greeting the eyes around;

  all the bold, vigorous strokes

  of the characters written

  on the post appear as clear-cut

  as silver hooks. The satin dress I wear,

  alas, eclipses the shining poems

  I write. Gazing up

  at the long, long list

  of the successful candidates, I envy,

  envy them, in vain.

  In ancient China, for the men of letters aspiring to success, an official career, and higher social status, the path was through the civil service examination, of which poetry-writing was an integrated part. The successful candidates were awarded government positions in accordance with their scores in the examination. The poem titles in classic Chinese poetry could be long, and this poem helps to explain why Xuanji felt so bitter about gender prejudice in the Tang Dynasty. A woman like Xuanji – in fact, all women – was barred from partaking in the civil service examination, however talented she might have been as a poetess. So she wrote the poem on the occasion of looking up at the list of new successful candidates, and she could not help feeling frustrated as an ambitious
female intellectual in the Tang Dynasty.

  Boudoir Sorrow

  Yu Xuanji (844–871)

  A full grasp of weeds, I’m weeping

  against the declining light,

  only to hear a neighbor’s husband

  returning home. Alas, the day you left,

  wild geese were flying north

  in the spring, and today, they are

  flying south in the autumn.

  Through the spring, through

  the autumn, I keep missing you;

  through the autumn, through

  the spring, there is no message

  coming to me. The windows

  and doors shut, you are not here.

  The noise of a wife beating,

  washing her man’s clothes

  in the stream –

  Oh, why should the sound

  come through to me,

  piercing the silk curtain?

  The Islet Enclosed in White Duckweed

  Wen Tingyun (812–870)

  After applying her make-up,

  she stands leaning against the balcony,

  looking out to the river, alone,

  to thousands of sails passing along –

  none is the one she waits for.

  The sun setting slant,

  the water running silent, long,

  her heart is breaking

  at the sight of the islet enclosed

  in white duckweed.

  Wen Tingyun was a celebrated Tang Dynasty poet. His most successful poems are a group of love poems speaking from a female perspective. It is believed that some of his poems originated from his romantic relationship with Xuanji, imagining what she could be thinking at the moment.

  Lament of the Inlaid Lute

  Wen Tingyun (812–870)

  Still, no dream comes to her,

  the split-bamboo-made mat cool

  on the silver-inlaid bed.

  The deep blue skies appear like water,

  the night clouds insubstantial.

  The cries of the wild geese journey

  as far as the Xiaoxiang River.

  The moon continues shining

  into her room.

 

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