When we speak of "the novel," another complication arises. There are two different texts: the 1522 version mentioned above and the mid-1660s version—the Mao edition— which eclipsed the earlier version and was exclusively circulated in China for three centuries. The 1522 version had fallen into oblivion and remained undiscovered until early in the twentieth century; a popular edition of it was published in 1975 and again in 1980 by the Guji chubanshe in Shanghai. In the notes and afterword to this translation the 1522 edition is usually referred to as the Tongsu (TS); at times "the novel" or Three Kingdoms refers to both versions together.
This is a translation of the Mao edition. It was chosen in order to present to the reader the novel as it has been (and presently is) best known in China. Among scholars each version has its advocates. Some prefer the TS because it is richer in historical documents and information as well as franker and less moralistic about political power. Others praise the Mao edition as smoother and more effective as literature. Some regard the differences as minor; others hold them to be significant.7 This translation affords the reader some opportunity for comparing the TS and the Mao edition by translating in the notes many passages from the TS that were deleted or changed in the later text. A short discussion of the two versions may be found in the second part of this essay.8
A second category of notes to this translation contains interpretive comments by the editors of the mid-1660s edition, Mao Lun and his son Mao Zonggang. An influential piece of literary criticism and analysis, the Mao commentary has been an integral part of many editions and is still widely known today. The commentary is of great value in helping the reader keep his bearings in a complex narrative; it also offers interesting interpretations of the author's literary methods. Some readers, of course, will prefer to bypass these notes and plow straight through the main text.
The third kind of note contains historical rather than literary information: notes on Han geography, personages, the bureaucracy, and so forth. These notes are drawn from various sources, but most important among them are Chen Shou's Sanguozhi (SGZ) and the Zizhi tongjian (ZZTJ) of Sima Guang (1019-86). To the Chinese reader—who has grown up with Three Kingdoms tales in stage and radio performances and even comic books—names of persons, places, titles, and battles are household words, words that have also been incorporated in scores of proverbs. But the Western reader, coming to this novel for the first time, is unlikely to find much that is familiar. I hope that the historical notes will provide the background to make the novel somewhat more accessible.
VIRTUE, LINEAGE, AND LEGITIMACY
In Three Kingdoms' vast world nearly one thousand characters cross the stage. The action, moving on several planes at once, encompasses the four corners of the realm. And the novel's themes are varied and complex. In lively discussion over the past decade Chinese scholars have attempted to identify a single main theme in Three Kingdoms. Some say it is the theme of ideal liege finding ideal minister, their rise to power, and their tragic end. Some consider the struggle of ideal liege and ultimate villain to be the principal theme. Some see in the novel an expose of the cruelties and injustice of feudal (i. e., dynastic) government itself. Others attach less importance to character and values; they emphasize the larger, impersonal theme of the restoration of national unity after a period of civil wars. Still others see the book primarily as military history, a dramatic record of personal combat, raids, surprises, offensives, sieges, pitched battles, and protracted campaigns, by an author well versed in the art of war. All of these themes or general topics are important in Three Kingdoms; yet all of them are engaged by a single conflict that dominates the first two-thirds of the novel, the conflict between Liu Xuande and Cao Cao. Moreover, when Cao Cao and Liu Xuande pass from the scene, their rivalry continues, as the kingdoms they have founded, Wei in the north and Shu-Han in the west (the Riverlands) exhaust themselves in civil war.
Liu Bei (Xuande) and Cao Cao (Mengde) both appear in the opening chapter.9 Cao Cao's father, a high military minister, provided the backing that enabled his son to rise in the bureaucracy. But however privileged, Cao Cao is a leader of Napoleonic genius, committed to advancing men on the basis of ability rather than family influence. He has a sardonic streak and keeps his own counsel. His characteristic gesture is a laugh or a smile, but without warmth. He seems isolated from even his closest advisers and kinsmen. Liu Xuande has no family backing, though he claims a remote kinship to the imperial house, whose surname he bears. His immediate circumstances are humble, and he is devoted to his mother. His virtues being greater than his talents, he seeks able and honorable men to aid him and is usually in the company of his closest companions; he rarely appears alone. His biography says that "he won the hearts of men."10 His characteristic gesture is weeping. The twentieth-century writer and literary historian Lu Xun has shrewdly described him as "paternalistic and benevolent, though somewhat dissembling."11
In chapter 1 we find Cao Cao and Liu Xuande serving the Han emperor Ling on the battlefield as they conduct operations to suppress peasant uprisings led by the Yellow Scarves. In the following chapters the focus shifts to the Emperor. In a. d. 189 Ling dies, and his successor, Shao, reigns briefly. A warlord named Dong Zhuo deposes Shao and places Shao's younger brother Xian on the throne. Emperor Xian will reign until the dynasty ends in a. d. 220. Cao Cao and Liu Xuande appear intermittently until chapter 20, when Cao Cao presents Liu Xuande to Emperor Xian. At this point Cao Cao has command of the armed forces and holds the Emperor in thrall. But like a shogun careful to preserve the facade of imperial rule, Cao Cao refrains from usurping the throne and founding his own ruling house. The Emperor, in an effort to limit Cao Cao's control, tries to make an ally of Liu Xuande. He confirms Liu Xuande's claim to royal lineage by naming him imperial uncle and in a. d. 199 issues an edict written in his own blood and calling for action against the traitor Cao Cao. Liu Xuande joins a group of court loyalists who, inspired by the edict, vow to rescue the Emperor. This intrigue fails, and Liu Xuande leaves the court and the capital.
Henceforth Liu Xuande as well as Cao Cao—but no one else—can legitimately claim to act under imperial sanction, and so they become rival loyalists. Emperor Xian is always at the center of their calculations, and his survival is therefore assured. Cao Cao remains the dominant figure at court; Liu Xuande goes to seek his fortune in the wide world, the "rivers and hills" of China, by proving his virtue (de) or worthiness to rule.
The Cao Cao-Liu Xuande struggle, which begins as a court conflict, becomes an empire-wide crisis in chapter 38; the crisis culminates in chapter 50. These thirteen chapters form the novel's first peak; the narrative runs from the meeting of Liu Xuande and his ideal minister, Zhuge Liang (Kongming), in a. d. 207 to the battle at Red Cliffs in a. d. 208. After this pivotal battle, Cao Cao abandons his effort to unify the empire by conquest and proceeds to develop his position in the north; in a. d. 220, with the establishment of the Wei dynasty of the house of Cao, the formal partitioning of the empire begins.
As their influence grows, Liu Xuande and Cao Cao increasingly appear not merely as supporters of the Han emperor but as potential emperors in their own right, though neither one can afford to take any action that would expose him to the charge of treason by the other. Normally, of course, a son of Emperor Xian or Emperor Ling would stand in the line of succession. But Cao Cao neutralizes all the imperial sons by demoting them to minor princes. (This information comes from historical sources, not the novel. ) And he murders the one consort permitted to Emperor Xian, Empress Fu, along with her two sons. Finally, Cao Cao marries his sister to Emperor Xian. The care Cao Cao takes to eliminate possible heirs to Emperor Xian only makes Liu Xuande's place in the royal Liu clan, however remote or dubious, all the more significant. He, like Cao Cao, awaits the next generation. For Cao Cao or for one of his sons to become emperor would constitute a change of the ruling house. What principle could justify a nonfamilial succession? This question raises what is commonly known as the issue of legitimacy
(zhengtong).
Cao Cao himself never takes the final step of usurpation; he always casts himself in the role of regent to Emperor Xian. Accordingly, he often compares himself to the regent of the first reign of the Zhou dynasty (late eleventh century b. c. ), the Duke of Zhou (Zhougong), celebrated for fulfilling his custodial office and then returning power to the child-king in his trust when the ruler came of age. By taking the Duke of Zhou as his model, Cao Cao makes it known that he will not depart from his custodial role and depose the Emperor. Cao Cao claims that his regency preserves civil order by restraining a multitude of contenders who, in pursuit of their ends, would plunge the empire into civil war. There is some truth in Cao Cao's claim: Liu Xuande declares himself emperor in Shu-Han only after Cao Cao has died and his son, Cao Pi, has usurped the throne of Han.
If Cao Cao preserves Emperor Xian's position, he also builds his own kingdom and thus lays the foundation for his heirs to found a new dynasty. His first step is to proclaim himself duke of Wei (Weigong), a title last used by Wang Mang, the usurper of the Former Han dynasty. Cao Cao's second step is to proclaim himself king of Wei (Wei-wang) and to name an heir. As king he becomes a dynast. And rivalry between two of his sons, Pi and Zhi, swiftly brings home to the house of Cao the curse of dynastic government. Cao Cao dies in a. d. 220, and Cao Pi succeeds him as king of Wei. Within the year Cao Pi demands and receives the abdication (shan) of Emperor Xian and establishes himself on the throne of the Wei dynasty. The Han is no more.
To legitimate his usurpation, Cao Pi resorts to another ancient legend, that of the sage-kings Yao and Shun. Yao passed over his son and chose a commoner of virtue, Shun, to succeed him. As an apprentice sovereign, Shun ruled alongside Yao. Then, while still possessed of his power, Yao abdicated to Shun. Cao Pi casts himself in the role of Shun in order to portray his enthronement as a reenactment of the hallowed myth that justifies transferring the throne to a man of virtue rather than waiting for inheritance by a son.
On the interkingdom front, Cao Pi's declaration of a new dynasty frees Liu Xuande to take the Riverlands' throne as Han's true heir. Hence the kingdom is called Shu-Han. These events (chapter 80) mark the official beginning of the era called Three Kingdoms. The third king, Sun Quan, who rules Wu, or the Southland, waits until a. d. 229 before proclaiming his own dynasty.12 From the novel's point of view neither Cao Pi nor Sun Quan deserves to rule all China.
The novel, since the opening chapter, has been developing Liu Xuande's claim to succeed Emperor Xian. This claim rests on two bases, his lineage and his virtue. Liu Xuande bears the imperial surname, but so do other leaders. To reinforce his claim to legitimacy, Xuande traces his ancestry back to Emperor Jing of the Former Han, the emperor from whom the first Later Han emperor, Liu Xiu (posthumously called Guang Wu), claimed descent. Liu Xuande's link to the royal house opens the way to his advancement, especially after Emperor Xian acknowledges him as imperial uncle. In addition, Xuande has his own leadership qualities: his natural charisma or magnetism, called de in Chinese and translated "virtue." The force of his persona attracts and holds the allegiance of his associates, his armies, and the populations he governs. He wins men's hearts. Xuande's virtue is the higher reason why he deserves to rule, a reason transcending lineage or possession of territory. Cao Cao of the novel lacks this quality of virtue.
Virtue, a sine qua non of rule, is ascribed to every emperor, but the word describes his character rather than the manner of his accession. If he comes to power by filial right or by election within the royal family—that is, normally rather than by dynastic change— he will claim that his predecessors' virtue flows on in him. If he comes to power by abdication, usurpation, or conquest, his spokesmen will contend that he possesses his own virtue and is entitled thereby to found a new dynasty because the sovereign he is supplanting has lost his virtue. In such a case the genetic flow of virtue within a single lineage is disrupted, and it becomes necessary to turn to the ultimate source of virtue to legitimate the new house. That ultimate source is Heaven. Virtue is thus tied to another primary concept of ancient Chinese political science, the Mandate of Heaven, which should now be considered in order to bring out the full meaning of "virtue."
The mandate uses the authority of Heaven to override the claim of lineage and thus justify a change to a new ruling house. The Mandate of Heaven "finds" a man of virtue who establishes a new dynasty. To appreciate the revolutionary potential of the concepts of virtue and mandate, one may look to traditional Japan, which despite its deep absorption of Chinese influences, does not accept any limitations on the imperial birthright. Officially, Japan has been ruled throughout its history by a single dynasty; no new dynasty can be recognized. The lineage of the royal house, an uninterrupted continuum, is absolutely sacred. But the Chinese, as early as about 1000 b. c., worked out a means for rationalizing a change of dynasty through the concepts of virtue and mandate. In this way the Chinese made the dynasty relatively, not absolutely, sacred. The canonical authority for the Chinese view, apart from the "Zhou Texts" of the Book of Documents, is found in Mencius (5A. 6. 7): "Confucius said, 'For Yao and Shun, abdication; for Xia Shang, and Zhou, inheritance. In principle there is no difference. '"
The Mandate of Heaven comes to the fore in times of transition. It is a concept less active in times of stability, though it is always a useful reminder to the ruler of the penalty for misgovernment. Changes of dynasty are relatively infrequent; they are the exception, not the rule. Most of Chinese history has to do with regimes continuing in power. During such times of continuity the throne—and the mandate with it—passes from father to son, and occasionally to a brother or to some other imperial kinsman by election. The ruling house does not change, and the mandate-holding emperor is assumed to have the virtue of the dynastic founder flowing on through him. In this way lineage subsumes virtue. It is only in a transition crisis that lineage and virtue may separate into opposed principles.
In the final analysis, virtue can itself be seen as a higher form of lineage, and Heaven as universal ancestral authority. Heaven is the universal progenitor as well as the collective dwelling place of the many royal ancestors of the many different past dynasties; it is a quintessence of the ancestors; it must have descendants. Just as ancestors of one line are thought to confer favor on their living representatives, the Great Ancestors through Heaven mandate the living emperor. This is why Son of Heaven (tianzi) is another name for the emperor (a name the Japanese did not favor); the term implies transcending lineage and linking the emperor to the Great Ancestors. But it is not enough only to be the Son of Heaven. It is not enough only to have virtue. The two—virtue and lineage—must recombine. The Mandate of Heaven continues to be the highest legitimation, even after the transition crisis has passed, because it recombines the sanction of a sovereign's lineal ancestors with the sanction of the Great Ancestors, making him di (emperor) as well as tianzi.
Regardless of how he comes to power, every Son of Heaven for the past thirty centuries (until modern times) has claimed the mandate. The reason, to restate the point a little differently, is that the mandate proclaims the holder's "sonship" both in the larger sequence of dynasties and in the line of his own house. Every Han emperor after Liu Bang has the word xiao, "filial," in front of his posthumous title. Emperor Xian is officially named Xiao Xian Huangdi, Emperor Xian the Filial.
The blessing of sonship is sought as well by dynastic founders when they convert their ancestors into pseudo-emperors. Cao Pi, for example, honors his father Cao Cao as Emperor Wu even though Cao Cao never took the throne. Similarly, the first Jin emperor, Sima Yan, creates a royal "back line" out of his ancestors for several generations, though they were but vassals of the house of Cao (end of chapter 119). Even the Zhou founder King Wu (Wuwang) had to posthumously recast his father Wenwang—who in fact had remained loyal to the Shang—as a dynastic founder. King Wu strengthened his own claim to rule the empire by anchoring his Mandate from Heaven in his father's purpose. (King Wen's support for the
Zhou conquest of Shang is duly glorified in the Book of Odes and the Book of Documents. ) And Cao Pi's purpose in posthumously naming Cao Cao Emperor Wu is to authorize his own usurpation; Cao Pi is posthumously called Emperor Wen. In both cases—Zhou and Wei—the actual military conqueror is called Wu.
The family nature of the dynastic form displays itself in the fact that the ruling house is the dynasty: the Liu are the Han, the Cao are the Wei, and the Sima are the jin, one and indivisible. If a new clan comes to power, it must establish its own dynasty.
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