Returning to their native culture
Q: For so long now, China has been busy absorbing Western culture. Why does this quest among Chinese cultural circles for China's own cultural positions come to the fore now? Is it related to the mainland having gone through the Cultural Revolution?
A: This isn't tied up closely with the Cultural Revolution, which has been over for a long time. When I speak of the positions of Chinese culture, I'm looking at the big picture. In his essay "The Crash of Civilization," Harvard Professor Samuel Huntington makes some sense when he says that the entire 20th century has been enmeshed in political strife and torn between opposing ideologies. As the century comes to a close, conflict is being reconfigured as it returns to all the various individual civilizations and cultures. The truth is that it's a tide that has already come in. Now culturally minded people are often asking themselves, what is my native cultural soil? Which is to ask, what determines to which civilization my spiritual and physical conditions belong? It's not as simple as before, when you just asked what political views you espoused or to which school of thought you belonged.
The search for culture isn't just a problem for people in mainland China, but also for people in Taiwan, Hong Kong and the various Chinese communities overseas. In the West and in the Islamic world too, people are having problems reconfirming their cultural positions. This trend will continue for a long, long time. And in Asia such nations as India and Japan will become more passionate about searching for their own cultural roots in the 21st century.
As for myself, I have studied the high perspectives of Western thought and research methods, but what I research is always the Chinese culture in which I am rooted. For methods of thought, the classical German philosophers Hegel and Kant have influenced me most, whereas Hugo and Goethe have had the deepest effect on my character. They have taught me how to look at the world, how to look at humanity. They have given me a more international perspective in looking at Chinese problems.
Studying the masters
Q: You once spent three years cooped up at home reading books, which allowed you to come in contact with the spirit behind the thinking of the great masters and experience their intellectual methods and fields of vision. Could you speak about what you were feeling back then? What kind of temporal and spatial background and life processes pushed you to think that you needed to change your methods of thinking?
A: Before and during the Cultural Revolution, the Chinese cultural world was at the service of politics and was far from free. Culture and art were hurt greatly. Fifteen years ago, the entire Chinese cultural community was stirred up in a wave of criticism against the Cultural Revolution. I think that this criticism was righteous, and that the target of the criticism was very clear, but after you've criticized and torn down, what are you going to build in its place? Most people don't know. I too felt very empty inside and wanted to redetermine my basic values, and so I spent three years reading, studying things all over again.
In those three years my studies were very broad. I didn't just focus on a couple of books. Rather, starting with ancient Greece, I reread the Western philosophers. I worked hard at standing in their shoes. The process was very difficult, for I discovered that things which in the past I had been educated to accept as true and reasonable gradually became petty and untrustworthy. For instance, I used to get into earnest discussions with everyone about artistic methods and schools and about what was unique to Chinese art. But after I read the Western masters I discovered that they had thought about many of these issues hundreds or even thousands of years ago, and I found that those things which I deemed so special about Chinese art also exist in Western culture. And so in looking back, those past discussions seem pretty laughable.
What's more, we Chinese like to offer opinions about what we like and what we don't, but as soon as I came in contact with the thought of the great Western philosophers, I discovered that simple judgments of love and hate are always too superficial and inaccurate, and deep judgments are always qualified and run against the grain. On the best face of anything, dark shadows will eventually start to appear. And even on something's darkest side, you can always find specks of light. And so I slowly began to feel that I ought to discard my old standpoints and methods of thinking.
Furthermore, in the past Chinese would rarely consider questions from an anthropological perspective. Over the 5000 years of Chinese culture, what was regarded above all else, what was viewed as most magnificent, bold and righteous, was in fact far removed from a normal person's way of living and values. After the May Fourth Movement, people reflected a lot on these problems. In passing my nights reading, I adjusted my methods and levels of thinking, and truly felt as if I had become someone else.
Mourning and applauding civilization
Q: We are very interested in entering your thought processes. In Mountain Home Journal, whose excellent essays are packed with classical allusions and observations aroused by your experiences, what are your intellectual coordinates? What are the big questions you want to ask? In the book you repeatedly use such expressions as "cultured character" and "noble spirit," and you mention that several times in history the Chinese approached but never actually reached a truly "urban civilization." But is "urban civilization" really that important? Could we explore your values when judging human civilization?
A: It's hard to put my current beliefs into one sentence, so let's go back to a general view. I look at history as a process of conflict connecting civilization with ignorance and barbarism.
American anthropologists believe that the development of humanity can be split into three the stages of ignorance, barbarism and civilization, but that ignorance and barbarism have survived after the rise of civilization. When places hold to their backward ways and create the ridiculous, this is ignorance. When people intentionally destroy what is good and commit injustices, this is barbarism. Ignorance and barbarism are both enemies of civilization. Civilization is in a constant struggle with them, and it won't necessarily win. If it's victorious, I'll applaud. If it meets with defeat, I'll mourn. This was an important point of departure in writing these essays. The overall content of Mountain Home Journal was aimed at finding a human "method for civilized living." These intentions--based on the hope of supporting civilization in its battle with ignorance and barbarism over the course of history--served as my coordinates. When I use such terms as "cultured character," "noble spirit," or "urban civilization," they are all related to these values.
What needs to be made clear is that when I say "cultured character" I am not referring to the character of some particular literary figure but am speaking more generally. The Swiss psychiatrist Jung said, "the final achievement of civilization is 'character.'" This phrase has had a big impact on me, and the question of character is one of the central ones I have been pondering these past few years. What finally comes from culture is character. For people in cultural circles, what kind of group character has Chinese culture created? This is a very important topic for research. When I write of the "mensch" and the "cur," I am exploring the upper and lower limits of Chinese cultural character.
Q: In the essay "The Dark Corners of Chinese History," you talk about the historical "culture of curs." What compelled you to pay so much attention to this group of people? Have you encountered similar kinds of people in your own life?
A: I've studied the spreaders of civilization in Chinese history, including such figures as Ruan Ji, Ji Kang, Su Dongpo, and Zhu Xi. Why were they so ill treated? In my research, I could always find the shadowy presence of mean-spirited people, the "curs" of history. I am very sensitive to their presence. When you face history, you soon discover that besides the great individuals' personal encounters, there are disasters caused by historical forces and turning points that caused great suffering for them--as well as for many others. There were lots of big forces involved, but these don't explain all their troubles, and what these don't explain is related to the curs. And so I am interested in the special functions of curs in Chinese history.
The fact is that whether in China or abroad, particularly in the Chinese cultural world in which I move today, there are many analogous situations. As for what I have encountered myself, it's been quite different from what those great cultural figures faced. Their situations were much more serious. But I'm sure that you and I both have curs around us. They aren't declining in number, and they'll continue to be around in the future.
Awkward relations, peaceful river
Q: Could you speak about your plans for future research or writing. What will you examine in your next project?
A: There are still some essays I want to write, including one on Shandong. We sometimes call Shandong the "vast land of Lu and Qi" [after the two states located there during the Warring States Era]. I've done some research on Lu and Qi culture, and I've investigated a bit in Shandong myself. The philosophy expounded by Confucius and Mencius, who were both from the state of Lu, has come to serve as the central pillar of Chinese culture. But the nearby culture of Qi has gradually been all but forgotten by history.
Lu civilization was based on agriculture. Agricultural civilization tends toward the soft, the delicate, the conservative. It stresses ethics, human sentiment, stability, the golden mean and morality. The philosophy of Confucius and Mencius was nurtured from this. Qi culture, on the other hand, has much of an industrial and commercial color to it. Qi manufactured many kinds of iron tools, and the people there put more stress on the power of intelligence and less stress on morality, thus providing fertile ground for government figures like Guan Zhong or thinkers fond of debate like Yanzi. The Qi were quick to change, combative, cruel, and full of vitality. Chinese history would later select Lu culture. Yet when I was in Shandong, I was given to a strange sort of wondering: What if history had selected Qi culture? What would China be like? It's an interesting question.
I also want to write about the Amur River. I rented a small motor boat there, and spent a few days and nights floating on it with a group of writers. It has got to be among the most peaceful rivers in the world. The environment is so clean; there's virtually no pollution. The Chinese and Russian communities that live across from each other on its banks are given to drastic swings of emotion as regards the other. When things are well, they're excellent; but when things turn sour, they're really bad. Now relations between them are awkward, but the river is peaceful and clean. We floated on it for several days and nights. Wouldn't this be a good source for several essays?
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In August of 1994, on Aihun Island in the Amur River, Yu pondered the good and ill will between the Russians and Chinese who live on opposite banks of the river. (photo courtesy of Yu Qiuyu)
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Chinese society has traditionally exalted the fame and conspicuous wealth of ministers and generals. Cutouts and painted boards depicting mandarins appear today at many tourist attractions on the mainland. One need merely to stick one's head in the hole to become a classical Chinese VIP. (photo by Pu Hua-chih)
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What kind of collective character has been created by Chinese--from emperors to common folk--after thousands of years of history? (photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)
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