Wednesday, 19 February 2014

陶淵明《桃花源記》An Account of Peach Blossom Spring by Tao Yuanming

This is an extremely famous story that all Chinese people will have in their collective unconscious, much like western nursery rhymes or fairy tales in the UK and other English speaking nations. It tells the story of a fisherman who stumbles upon shangri-la by accident, and after leaving, because he tells people of its existence, neither he nor anyone else can find their way back there again. Please note, my translation sometimes adds to or omits parts of the Classical Chinese to produce more flowing English and to capture a greater sense of the original meaning, so should not be taken as exact. 


晉太元中,武陵人,捕魚為業。緣溪行,忘路之遠近。忽逢桃花林,夾岸數百步,中無雜樹,芳草鮮美,落英繽紛。漁人甚異之,復前行,欲窮其林。

In the Taiyuan year of the Eastern Jin dynasty, there was a man from Wuling who caught fish for a living. One day, he was following the river creek when he forgot how far along the river he had come. He suddenly came across a wood of peach blossom trees, lining either side of the bank for several hundred metres. There were no other types of trees among peach trees. The grass was fresh and delicate, and the fallen peach blossoms lay thick and colourful upon the ground. The fisherman was greatly astonished by this place and pressed on, wanting to reach the end of the grove.

林盡水源,便得一山,山有小口,仿佛若有光。便舍船,從口入。初極狹,纏通人。復行數十步,豁然開朗。土地平曠,屋舍儼然,有良田﹑美池,桑﹑竹之屬。

The grove came to an end at the source of the river, where he also discovered a mountain. In the mountain was a small opening, and there seemed to be a light inside it. Thereupon he left his boat and went into the opening. At first the tunnel was extremely narrow, with only just enough room for a man to pass through. He continued on for a few dozen steps, when suddenly the tunnel opened up, revealing a bright and clear view. The land was flat and vast, the houses were all neatly laid out. There were fertile fields, beautiful ponds, mulberry trees and bamboo. 


阡陌交通,雞犬相聞。其中往來種作,男女衣著,悉如外人。黃發垂髫,並怡然自樂。見漁人,乃大驚,問所從來。具答之。便要還家,設酒、殺雞、作食。

Paths crisscrossed over fields. The crows and barks of the chickens and dogs mingled with each other. In this place, people were coming and going, busy with planting and growing crops. The clothing of the men and women were exactly like those of the people living in the outside world. Their yellow hair [unsure if this means they are blonde, or the have some kind of decoration in their hair] dangled in locks, they were all carefree and merry together. When they saw the fisherman, they were greatly startled and asked him where he had come from. He answered all of their questions [OR: "He answered their questions in detail" the 具 makes this ambiguous and could have a sense of both meanings]. Thereupon he was invited to their houses, where they prepared wines, killed a chicken and made food.

村中聞有此人,咸來問訊。自雲:“先世避秦時亂,率妻子、邑人來此絕境,不復出焉,遂與外人間隔。”問今是何世,乃不知有漢,無論魏晉。此人一一為具言所聞,皆嘆惋。

When the people of the village heard about the fisherman [此人 lit. this person], they all came to make enquiries. The villagers said, “Our ancestors fled to avoid the chaos of the Qin period, leading their wives, children and neighbours to this isolated place, and they never left it. And so we were cut off from the outside world.” They asked him what age is was now, they didn’t even know of the Han dynasty, let alone the Wei or Jin dynasties. The fisherman told them one by one in detail of what he knew, all of the villagers sighed with regret. 

余人各復延至其家,皆出酒食。停數日,辭去。此中人語雲:“不足為外人道也。”

Each of the remaining people also invited the fisherman to their homes, and everyone brought out wine and food. After the fisherman had stayed for number of days, he bade farewell and departed. The people of the village said, “We’re not worth mentioning to the outside world.” [OR “It’s best if outsiders don’t know about us.” Today the phrase "不足為外人道也" means "this is best kept between us."]

既出,得其船,便扶向路,處處志之。及郡下,詣太守,說如此。太守即遣人隨其往,尋向所志,遂迷,不復得路。

As soon as he left their land, he found his boat and followed the same route back home, leaving markers all along the way. Once he reached his home prefecture, he visited the Governor [OR: Grand Administrator] and related the whole story to him. The Governor immediately dispatched people to follow the fisherman’s route and to search for the markers he had left. But they became lost, and could not find the road again. 

南陽劉子驥,高尚士也,聞之,欣然規往。未果,尋病終。后遂無問津者。


In Nanyang there was a noble gentleman called Liu Ziji, who upon hearing about the Peach Blossom Spring, happily made plans to go there. However, he did not succeed, as he soon fell ill and died. Henceforth there has been no one wanting to pursue the matter further (問津 make enquiries). 

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

Who the FUUUUUU is Fu Manchu?



“Imagine a person, tall, lean and feline, high-shouldered, with a brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan, a close-shaven skull, and long, magnetic eyes of the true cat-green. Invest him with all the cruel cunning of an entire Eastern race, accumulated in one giant intellect, with all the resources of science past and present, with all the resources, if you will, of a wealthy government -- which, however, already has denied all knowledge of his existence. Imagine that awful being, and you have a mental picture of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the yellow peril incarnate in one man."
–The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu, Sax Rohmer

2013 marked the one-hundredth year since Sax Rohmer published The Mystery of Fu Manchu, probably the most recognisable “Chinese” character in Western popular fiction. Dr Fu Manchu characterisation laid the foundations for the stereotyping of East Asian men as the ‘evil oriental genius’, notably Dr. No in the Bond series, or Ming the Merciless. However, most Chinese have never even heard of Dr Fu Manchu. The plot thickens. Today it seems hard, or even comical, for us to believe Rohmer’s character of Fu Manchu, a man with “eyes of the true cat-green”, is supposedly a Chinese person. 

What the evil Dr. Fu Manchu represents is obviously not a Chinese person, but a reflection of the West’s past fears. Around the turn of the 20th century, the West considered the East, mainly China, as a threat economically, military and morally without any basis in fact. Many of these fears were expanded in fiction, particularly in Rohmer’s novels, who was inspired by the tales of intrigue surrounding Chinatowns in the US. Rohmer never visited either of London’s two Chinatowns, but exploited the introverted nature of Chinese settlements as the perfect setting for the scheming Dr Fu Manchu. Actual Chinese migrants that arrived in the UK before the 1920s were a silent and fleeting minority. Most of them stayed only briefly and their numbers after 1920 had dwindled to a handful. Despite this, London's Chinatowns were depicted as mere outposts of a larger, underground syndicate of sin, debauchery and illegal opium dens.  Due to ignorance and misunderstanding on the side of the West, Rohmer’s stories of powerful, hidden individuals prowling the darkened streets of Chinatowns seemed plausible, caught public attention and kept the Yellow Peril fears burning.

A late 19th/early 20th century image of Chinese workers unloading shipments in London

Popular culture likes to overplay the migrant Chinese community’s links to opium, smuggling, and gambling. Such business did take place, but also played into the stereotypes of the Yellow Peril, which are predisposed to see the Chinaman as a creature of vice and debauchery, addicted to opiates and corrupting local women. These were to become core facets of Fu Manchu's character. However, up until the 1870s, taking opium was a common and accepted habit amongst Victorians. When the effects of the drug on China were publicised, the pendulum of public and medical opinion began to swing in the opposite direction. On the whole, the Chinese communities were regarded as private but untroubled places. The opium dens and gambling houses made much less of a spectacle of themselves than the public houses of the British. The early Chinese settlers remained focused on their own community, and its economy was introverted towards providing services for their compatriots.

Although discrimination against the Chinese was a problem in the UK, it never reached the heights of that in the USA or Canada, where restrictive and demeaning policies were enshrined in law. For Robert Louis Stevenson, an Englishman traveling in the USA before the turn of the twentieth century, he found the Americans’ regard for their Chinese neighbours quite shocking. Upon boarding a train, he discovered that there was a separate carriage solely for the use of the Chinese. Stevenson conjectured that the "Mongols" were despised as "enemies in that cruel and treacherous battle-field of money." Unlike Britain, the Chinese were joining white Americans in a wide variety of trades. They worked in production: making cigars, shoes, clothes, bags, brooms, matches, candles, soap, and so on. From digging irrigation channels to picking fruit, from building roads to hospitality and services, the Chinese settlers in the USA and Australia had far more freedom in their career choice. Thus, to the Peril-mongers, it would have appeared that the Chinese had designs on numerous livelihoods in Western society, and could oust their white competitors out of the trade through their cheap labour.

The original trilogy of Fu Manchu novels were released in 1913, 1916 and 1917, selling well on both sides of the Atlantic due to a widespread Western paranoia of the East. Rohmer revived the character in the 1930s, beginning a cultural presence for Fu Manchu spanning books, television, film, music and radio that continues to this day. Rohmer’s character has become part of the occidental cultural unconscious, and some would argue that fear of the East has lingered in psyche of some in the West.

However, recent studies on the life of Sax Rohmer and Fu Manchu by Sir Christopher Frayling reveal a different side to Fu’s villainy. Before Rohmer made his name with the Fu Manchu series, he wrote freelance for music halls in London, composing the lyrics to comic songs for performers. He lived and worked in the theatric heart of London. Frayling proposes that Fu Machu is a product of this theatricality, and is, at least in some part, a pantomime villain. When considering the preposterousness of Fu Manchu’s appearance, and the lyrical nature of his introduction above, Fu is comparable to a wicked witch in a fairy tale. Having watched the production of the Fu Manchu Complex put on in Ovalhouse, I would have to agree. The production's over-the-top portrayal and exaggerated costumes rendered him as an object of absurdity to the point of laughter, not a fear inspiring criminal mastermind, thereby mocking the fear people held of the Chinese. 

Labelled in the novels as the ultimate evil, is there more to Fu Manchu than meets the eye? Is Fu’s character irredeemable?

For East Asians living in the West, Fu Manchu’s ‘cultural’ links can leave people feeling alienated and stereotyped. Fu is a villain, but a feminine one - he is often linked with feline adjectives and adverbs, and is even described as beautiful on some occasions. It could be argued that a certain level of this image of the Asian male continues today, with Asian male leads in Hollywood non-existent. Moreover, Fu is not physically strong and often uses assassins on his behalf. And his weapon of choice? Poisonous mushrooms and fungi. But some of Fu Manchu’s attributes are commendable. He is fiercely intelligent, frequently running rings around his nemeses Commissioner Smith and Dr Petrie. When he lays traps for his adversaries, Dr Fu leaves an escape route, if they are clever enough to find it. Fu Manchu is true to his word, and possesses humility, as he is able to compliment his enemies when he deems their actions worthy. Perhaps his longest lasting legacy is the ‘Fu Manchu moustache’, even though Rohmer always described Fu as hairless. 

That said, there is not much for Chinese to reclaim in him because Dr Fu Manchu is, in essence, a Western construct.