Dawn Blossoms Plucked at Dusk

by Lu Xun

  When I was small, I heard elders in my hometown explain it this way:

  “... At first, the dead Cao E and her father's corpse floated up to the surface with her clasping him, face to face. But passers-by seeing this laughed and said: ‘Look, such a young girl with her arms round such an old man!’ Then the two corpses sank back into the water. After a little they floated up again, this time back to back.”

  Fine! According to the records, “E was only fourteen.” But in this realm of propriety and righteousness, even for so young a dead filial daughter to float up from the water with her dead father is very, very hard.

  I looked up the Picture-Book of a Hundred Filial Acts and Picture-Book of Two Hundred and Forty Filial Acts. In both cases the artists were clever: they had only drawn Cao E weeping on the bank before jumping into the river. But the 1892 edition of The Picture-Book of Twenty-Four Filial Women illustrated by Wu Youru showed the scene of the two corpses floating up, and he had made them “back to back” as we see in the uppermost of the first illustration. I expect he had heard the same story that I did. Then there is the Supplementary Picture-Book of Twenty-Four Filial Acts also illustrated by Wu Youru, in which Cao E is again presented, this time in the act of plunging into the river, as we see in the lower of the first illustration.

  A great many of the illustrated stories preaching filial piety which I have seen show filial sons through the ages up against brigands, tigers or hurricanes, and nine times out of ten their way of coping with the situation is “weeping” and “kowtowing.”

  When will we stop “weeping” and “kowtowing” in China?

  As far as draughtsmanship is concerned, I think the simplest and most classical style is that of the Japanese edition by Oda Umisen. Having already been incorporated into Paintings Collected by Dianshizhai, this has become a Chinese product and so is very easy to get hold of. Wu Youru's illustrations, being the most meticulous, are also the most engaging. But in point of fact he was not too well fitted to draw historical subjects. For he was so thoroughly imbued with what he had seen and heard in the course of his long residence in the International Settlement in Shanghai that what he really excelled at was contemporary scenes such as “A Fierce Bawd Abuses a Prostitute” or “A Hooligan Makes Advances to a Woman.” Such pictures are so full of vigour and life that they conjure up before us the International Settlement in Shanghai. However, Wu's influence was deplorable. You will find that in the illustrations of many recent novels or children's books all the women are drawn like prostitutes, all the children like young hooligans, and this is very largely the result of the artists seeing too many of his illustration.

  And stories about filial sons are even more difficult to illustrate, because most of them are so sad. Take for instance the story “Guo Ju Buries His Son.” No matter how, you can hardly make a picture that will induce children to lay themselves down eagerly in a pit. And the story “Tasting Faeces with an Anxious Heart” is hardly likely to make much appeal either. Again, in the tale about “Old Lai Zi Amuses His Parents,” although the verse appended to it says “the whole household was filled with joy,” the illustrations have very little in them to suggest a happy family atmosphere.

  I have chosen three different examples for the second page of illustration. The scene at the top, from The Picture-Book of a Hundred Filial Acts, was drawn by He Yunti of Chencun. It shows Old Lai Zi pretending to fall while carrying water to the hall and crying like a baby on the ground, and also shows his parents laughing. The middle scene I copied myself from Pictures and Poems of Twenty-Four Filial Acts illustrated by Li Xitong of northern Zhili. It shows Old Lai Zi in multicoloured garments playing childish pranks in front of his parents. The rattle in his hand brings out the fact that he is pretending to be a baby. Probably, however, this Mr. Li felt that it looked too ridiculous for a fully grown old man to play such pranks, so he did his best to cut Old Lai Zi down in size, finally drawing a small child with a beard. Even so, it makes no appeal. As for the mistakes and gaps in the lines, they are neither the fault of the artist nor mine as copyist; one can only blame the engraver who in 1873, the twelfth year of Tong Zhi in the Qing Dynasty, worked in the Hongwentang Printing Shop on the west side of the southern end of Buzhengsi Street in the Province of Shandong. The bottom picture on this page was printed by the Shendushanfang Shop in 1922, the eleventh year of the republic, without giving the artist's name. The illustration contains two episodes—pretending to fall and playing pranks like a baby—but leaves out the “multicoloured garments.” Wu Youru's illustration also combines both episodes; and he has also left out the multicoloured garments, but although his Old Lai Zi is plumper and has his hair in two knots—he still looks unattractive.

  It has been said that the difference between satire and invective is only paper-thin, and I think the same applies to winsomeness and mawkishness. A child playing pranks before its parents can be winsome, but if a grown man does this it cannot but be distasteful. A careless married couple displaying their mutual fondness in public can easily become embarrassing if they slightly overstep the bounds of what is amusing. It is no wonder, then, that no one could draw a good picture of Old Lai Zi playing pranks. I could not be comfortable, even for a day, living in a family such as these pictures show. Just think. How can this old gentleman in his seventies spend all his time playing hypocritically with a rattle?

  People of the Han Dynasty liked to have paintings or carved reliefs of rulers of old, disciples of Confucius, eminent scholars and ladies and filial sons in their palaces or the stone chambers before their tombs. Of course none of those palaces are left today, but occasionally such stone chambers can be seen. The one best preserved is the Wu family stone chamber in Jiaxiang County, Shandong. I seem to remember that it has a relief depicting the story of Old Lai Zi. But since I do not have the rubbings with me, and have no copy of the book Collected Inscriptions on Stone and Metal either, I cannot verify this. Otherwise it would be most interesting to compare modern illustrations with those done about eighteen hundred years ago.

  Regarding Old Lai Zi's story, there is the following account in the Picture-Book of a Hundred Filial Acts:

  “... Old Lai Zi also played with a chu (雏) to amuse his parents. He romped with this at their side to divert them.” (Author's note: from Lives of Lofty Characters.)

  Whose Lives of Lofty Characters did he mean? That by Ji Kang? Or that by Huangfu Mi? Again I had no books where I could look this up. Recently, however, on receiving one extra month's pay I decided to buy a set of The Imperial Encyclopedia of the Taiping Era. But on looking through this, I still failed to find the source. So either I did not look carefully enough, or else the anecdote must come from some other Tang or Song book. Not that this really matters. What struck me as interesting in the text was the word chu.

  It seems to me that chu here may not mean a fledgeling. Dolls made of clay, silk or cloth as children's toys are called hina in Japanese, and the character for this is the same as chu. They have retained not a few old Chinese characters over there; and for Old Lai Zi to play with a child's toy before his parents sounds more natural than playing with a little bird. What in English is called a “doll” we in China today call a yang-nan-nan or nirenr but we have to write this with the characters kui-lei (puppet). So perhaps our ancestors called it chu but later this word was lost and only preserved in Japan. However, this is just my hypothesis for the time being. I have not as yet found substantial evidence.

  It seems that nobody ever drew a picture of Old Lai Zi playing with a doll.

  Another set of books I collected was those with pictures of Wu Chang or Life-Is-Transient. One is Cautionary Records of the Jade Calendar (or the word “cautionary” may be omitted), another is Most Treasured Records of the Jade Calendar. Actually the contents are almost identical. Regarding the collecting of these books I must first of all thank Mr. Chang Weijun who sent me the Longguangzhai and Jianguangzhai editions printed in Peking, the Siguozhai and Lithographic Printing Shop editions
printed in Tianjin, and the Liguangmingzhuang edition printed in Nanjing. Next my thanks are due to Mr. Zhang Maochen who gave me the Manaojingfang edition printed in Hangzhou, the Xuguangji edition printed in Shaoxing, and the most recent lithographic edition. Then I myself procured the Baojingge edition printed in Guangzhou and the Hanyuanlou edition.

  There are two kinds of these Jade Calendars, one comprehensive and the other briefer, as I stated earlier. But a study of all the pictures of Wu Chang started me worrying. For in these books Wu Chang or Life-Is-Transient wears a gaudy robe and gauze headdress, and has a sword fastened on his back; while the ghost with the abacus and tall conical hat is Death-Is-Predestined! Though their faces may be fierce or kind, and they may be wearing straw sandals or cloth (?) shoes, these discrepancies merely depend on the whim of the artist; but the important thing, which all have in common, is that they are called Death-Is-Predestined. Alas, this was clearly done to make things awkward for me.

  Still I am not convinced. In the first place, none of these books is the edition I saw in my childhood; in the second, I still believe that my memory is not at fault. However, my scheme of tearing off a single page to serve as an illustration was quietly but completely frustrated. All I could do was to pick an example of each—one Death-Is-Predestined from a Nanjing edition and one Life-Is-Transient from a Guangzhou edition. In adddition I had to set to work myself to sketch by way of substitute the Life-Is-Transient I remembered from Maudgalyayana dramas or temple fairs, for the upper part of the third page of illustrations. Luckily I am not a professional artist, so although the sketch is not too good, readers should not be too critical. Lacking foresight I commented disrespectfully on Mr. Wu Youru and his confrères, little thinking I should have to make a fool of myself so shortly after. So I am saying a few words of apology here in advance. But if my apology is not accepted, I can only imitate President Xu Shichang's philosophy: let things take their natural course.

  Another thing of which I am not convinced is this: Do those gentlemen who boost the Jade Calendar really have a clear understanding of the nether regions? For example, there are two kinds of illustrations of the scene at a man's death; one shows simply a ghost guard armed with a steel trident, known as the Summoner of Ghosts, and nobody else; one shows a horsefaced devil and two Wu Changs—Wu Chang of the world of men and Wu Chang of the shades—but these are not Life-Is-Transient and Death-IsPredestined. If you say they are, in appearance they are different. Thus in Picture A on the fourth page of illustrations, Wu Chang of the world of men is not wearing a gaudy robe and gauze headdress; but Wu Chang of the shades is rather similar to Death-Is-Predestined in the other picture, although he has no abacus and is holding a fan. Of course we can say this was probably in summer, but in that case why has he grown such a bushy beard? Is it because plague is so rife in summer that he is too busy to have time even for a shave? This picture comes, I may say, from the Siguozhai edition printed in Tianjin. And those in the Peking and Guangzhou editions are similar.

  Picture B is from the Liguangmingzhuang edition printed in Nanjing. Its Wu Changs are like those in Picture A, but their names are interchanged. What the Tianjin edition calls Wu Chang of the shades is named Wu Chang of the world of men in the Nanjing edition. Still, this coincides with my own view. So provided there is a figure dressed in white with a tall hat, whether bearded or not, people in Peking, Tianjin and Guangzhou may call him Wu Chang of the shades or Death-Is-Predestined, but I and the people of Nanjing call him Life-Is-Transient, each giving him whatever name we please. After all, “The name is just an attribute of the fact.” Hence what we call him does not matter much.

  Still, I decided to add Picture C from the Xuguangji edition of Shaoxing. As it has no caption, I don't know the artist's intention. When I was small I used to pass that printing shop and sometimes watched them engraving these pictures. As they preferred to draw circles and straight lines, seldom curved lines, from their version it is hard to judge the true appearance of Mr. Wu Chang. Beside him, however, we can see quite clearly another little tall hat who is absent from other editions. This must be the Ah-ling who appears during temple fairs, as I mentioned before. So even when performing official duties he brings along his son (?). I suppose he wants the child to learn from him, in order that when grown up he “will not change his father's ways.”

  Apart from the Summoner of Spirits, beside the desk of the King of Wuguan of the Fourth Court among the ten Kings of Hell, there usually stands a figure in a tall hat like that in Picture D, No. 1, from the Siguozhai edition of Tianjin, who looks quite elegant. No. 2, from the Nanjing edition, for some reason is sticking out his tongue. No. 3, from the Baojingge edition of Guangzhou, has a broken fan. No. 4, from the Longguangzhai edition of Peking, has no fan, and under his chin is a black line which may be a beard or tongue for all I know. No. 5, from the Lithographic Printing Shop edition of Tianjin, also looks quite elegant; but he is standing by the desk of the King of Taishan of the Seventh Court instead, which is rather unusual.

  Again, in pictures of tigers eating men, there is always a character in a tall hat, holding a paper fan to give the tiger secret directions. I don't know whether this is also Wu Chang or the ghost known as “Chang” (伥). However, in the operas in my home district, the “Chang” ghost does not wear a tall hat.

  Researches into such esoteric matters as the lore of spirits and the supernatural, not being verifiable by facts, are most original and highly advantageous too. If I put all the materials together, started a scholarly discussion, and compiled and printed all the correspondence of different sorts received, I dare say I could produce three or four massive volumes and by so doing rise to the rank of a “scholar.” Still, the title “Wu-chang-ologist” lacks distinction, so I have no wish to pursue my researches further and will simply conclude here in arbitrary fashion.

  The ideas in such books as the Jade Calendar are very crude and simple: Life-Is-Transient and Death-Is-Predestined together symbolize the life of man. When a man is about to die only Death-Is-Predestined need turn up, for his arrival shows that “life is transient.”

  Among the people, however, is also a type of self-styled “messenger for the nether regions,” living men who go for a time to the shades to help carry our official tasks. Because they help to summon spirits, people call them Wu Chang too; and because they are the spirits of living men they are designated as belonging to the world of men, and so become confused with Life-Is-Transient. Thus Picture A in the fourth page of illustrations shows Wu Chang of the world of men dressed in ordinary human costume to indicate that he is just a messenger to the shades, whose job is only to guide the ghost guard to the house. This is why he is standing at the foot of the steps.

  Since there is a Wu Chang who is a living man's spirit who goes to the nether regions, Death-Is-Predestined is known as Wu Chang of the shades, as he has similar tasks but is not of the world of men.

  Though the Maudgalyayana dramas and temple processions were designed to appease the gods, they serve as entertainment too. If the character playing the part of the live messenger to the shades were to dress as an ordinary man it would look too uninteresting, for then it would not be a masquerade. It is better to make him more bizarre-looking. This is why he is dressed in the costume of the other Wu Chang—of course, what this is people never knew too clearly. And in this way the mistake was perpetuated. So what people in Nanjing and I call Life-Is-Transient is really the living messenger to the shades wearing the costume of Death-Is-Predestined while using the name Life-Is-Transient. This is utterly counter to classical lore and most preposterous.

  Would the erudite gentlemen of China agree with my conclusions?

  I had no intention at first of writing a postscript. I just wanted to find a few old pictures as illustrations and didn't expect to get off the track. While making comparisons of the pictures, cutting out and pasting together specimens, I have made my random comments. The text or the reminiscences has taken me about a year off and on, while this brie
f postscript too has taken me nearly two months off and on. It is so hot that sweat is pouring down my back. High time, surely, to make an end of it? With this I conclude.

  Written by the west window of my lodging

  At Dongdi, Guangzhou

  July 11, 1927