5. ESSAY: CHISEL OR SWORD

Of all forms of modern writing, the nearest to the Chinese literary tradition is the essay. This remark is by no means a compliment. The Chinese for "essay" is either san wen , meaning loose, non-metrical writing, or hsiao p'in wen , meaning little appreciation; both of which imply the absence of strict form. There are no epics in Chinese poetry and our national music has often been described as melody without harmony. Many of our novels tend to be documentary; they record life rather than reproduce it. There is a distinct lack of architectural beauty in Chinese literature; perhaps the flatness of our continent is to blame, perhaps stoical Confucianism. The essay, however, is admittedly suited to the kind of individualism fostered partly by Taoism throughout the ages. One of our leading essayists defines the modern essay as "the quintessence of personal literature, with all elements submerged in the soul of the creator". So the Chinese writer feels completely at home in the essay.

This loose form of writing is sometimes considered as a "primer" for the literary novice. While editing the Literary Supplement of Takungpao , in Tientsin, Shanghai, and Hong Kong, I received a large number of manuscripts daily. Of these, usually more than half were essays, sketches or "reportage" as they were later fashionably called. These were mostly descriptions of daily happenings, often reminiscent in character. They were excellent stepping-stones for an ambitious novelist, as miniature painting is to full-length canvas. But when they became a vogue, they tended to breed idleness. Now, in war time, few writers can sit down and concentrate on a novel, which requires vision and imagination to materialize. Hence, reportage appears to be the most popular form of writing at present. It is not only a convenient form for the writer, but easy reading for the common people. When an essay had to be shortened, the term "wall writing" came into being.

The most common form of essay in classical literature is the "scrapbook" type, and it still remains a favourite to-day. In Miscellaneous Notes of a Mountain Trip , a writer may freely jot down notes about his rambles, the caves he explored, some casual remarks about a book he read or some fleeting fancy while taking a meditative walk. "Letters" used to be another kind of miscellaneous writing until Miss Ping Hsin wrote her Letters to My Young Readers . They were contemplative and lyrical, and written with a deliberate plan. In 1924, Yü Ta-fu unconventionally wrote An Open Letter to a Literary Youth which was really a subtle satire. He understandingly analysed the situation of a college graduate who was unable to find a job—a very common predicament in those days. In one passage he eloquently exhorted him to rob, for "what is booty to the present society will be your fair share in the future one".

Even in this native art, influence from the West is not to be discounted altogether. The late Liang Yü-ch'ün, translator of Selected English Essays , borrowed Jerome K. Jerome's Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow for the title of a collection of his own essays which were clearly influenced by Elia . Li Kwang-t'ien is an admirer of W. H. Hudson and a lover of "a simple and intimate world". The vogue of "poems in prose" was definitely set by Turgeney. Even Lu Hsün, who generally appeared too intellectual to write lyrical compositions, could not help adopting this form for his Wild Grass . The influence of Baudelaire led young Chinese essayists into more elaborate labyrinths.

There are two types of essayists in China, the hermit and the knight-errant. The hermit essayist employs his pen as a sculptor does his chisel. He is often self-centred and sentimental. At heart, he is probably a Narcissist. He emotionalizes a bamboo hut he inhabited several years ago, or mourns over the death of a bird which gave him pleasure. The subject matter is often trivial personal recollections, lyrically woven, the very fruit and mainspring of human nostalgia. In the first number of Jên Chien Shih , a magazine containing mostly essays, Dr. Lin Yü-tang, the editor, announced that his magazine would cover all subjects, "vast as the universe and trifling as a fly". One critic remarked that they caught the fly but completely missed the universe. To the knight-errant, an essay is a simple medium. It is a sword when the enemy is near and a spear when he is afar. While the chisel is good at chipping and carving, the primary virtue of a sword is sharpness. Critical essays, whether on social or literary subjects, never failed to be sardonic. Essays of appreciation do exist, but when an essay is used as a weapon, it must hit something. The interesting fact is that these two types of essays are best represented by writers who happened to be brothers—namely, Chou Tso-jên and Lu Hsün.

Being an admirer of Havelock Ellis, a painstaking translator and a fine scholar, Chou Tso-jên began as a modern rebel in a mandarin robe, calm, leisurely, but at first wholeheartedly supporting everything progressive. He did a great deal to introduce the literature of lesser-known countries in China, from the Baltic to the Balkans. But soon his individualism drove him towards the path of a perfect hermit. From his famous "Bitter Rain Studio" he wrote as an antiquarian and a connoisseur of wine, tea and fine letter-papers. At the time when the entire nation was enraged by the Japanese invasion of Manchuria, he built himself a little oasis, surrounded by the aroma of the past. To him, the importance of life had become a mere collection of souvenirs. He is one of the rebels who was unfortunately tamed by harsh reality. It might be a comfortable retreat for a middle-aged man, but its effect on Chinese youth was extremely unhealthy.

In the complete works of Lu Hsün published posthumously, there are four volumes of fiction but fourteen volumes of critical essays. Some critics think the genius of Lu Hsün was wasted in the writing of those essays. And since the subject matter of most of them has an ephemeral interest, it is doubtful how long they will live. But Lu Hsün never sought immortality in such compositions. Being the chief moving spirit of his age, he could not refrain from attacking things and people he thought rotten. His very first volume of critical essays, The Hot Wind , contained a number of curt, poignant essays satirizing superstition, mental platitude, concubinage and all the sloppy side of our national life in the beginning of the Republic. He disapproved of writers who painted rosy pictures in the midst of darkness, who "have no courage to face the reality of existing society, but coyly welcome the magpie (Chinese symbol for good luck) and shun the owl (ominous), choosing only agreeable things to distract themselves". Lu Hsün demanded of Chinese writers the courage "to laugh, to weep, to curse and to strike. In this damned society, all these are matter for essays." His works represent the robust, analytical and satirical types. Decorativeness and lyricism were what he most despised. "At this hour when the windstorm roars outside and tigers and wolves are clamouring for our lives, who is in a mood to appreciate a coral ear-ring or an emerald ringlet! Even if our people desire some visual delight, they wish to see the great solid mansions standing firm on its foundations against the windstorm." There is no doubt that such critical essays written in an intellectual mood have since become a very popular form of writing. Most literary magazines have several such "editorial paragraphs" on the front page, and after the death of Lu Hsün, a bimonthly called Lu Hsün Wind appeared in Shanghai. "Wind" is also metaphorical Chinese for "style".

The classification of essays may be closely paralleled with that of painting, viz. landscape, human figures, flowers, birds and insects, with the sole exception of "ideas". Of these, the favourite subject is landscape. There are many sacred mountains in the four corners of China and almost all over lake districts. Many delightful essays were devoted to them, either in Chinese ink, such as those by Yeh Shao-chün and Chu Tze-ch'ing, or in Western water-colour, such as Hsü Chih-mo, Lu Li, and Li Ni. There has been a tendency towards "surrealism" in essays before the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese war, such as Ho Chi-fang's The Painted Dream which won the literary prize of Takungpao in 1936. But on the whole most of them are very like miniature paintings, that is, simple sketches of what one sees, remembers or thinks.

Decorative beauty had always been one of the cardinal virtues of traditional "pien" essays. In Ho Chi-fang's The Painted Dream one sees the assimilation of the native art and the "poem in prose" introduced from abroad. Being a student of philosophy, Ho's essays naturally have strong contemplative colour. In an autobiographical essay, entitled "The Essay and I", published in the Literary Supplement of the Takungpao , he revealed that he was seeking a new kind of lyrical prose, wrought of pure harmony and beauty. His Preface to The Painted Dream began thus:

"'Are not our visual and auditory senses most miserably limited?' 'Yes. One summer, I was walking with a colour-blind man on the farm. Casually I plucked a red flower for him and he said it was blue.' 'And did you grieve for him?' 'No, I was really sorry for myself.' 'Then you must believe in mysteries!' I am indeed fond of imagining things remote—some nonexistent people or names of nations not to be found on the map. For many days and nights I have lost myself completely in a fresco and walked into it. The wall was white but the portals were of gold. I did not know whether it was the door to Heaven or to Hell, but it opened once for me.'

'Then your outlook on life...?'

In life, I am only moved by its expressions. I am like a wisp of floating cloud. I like this to serve as a footnote for all my essays...'"

Ou-yang Ching, a critic, remarked that Ho's attempt to make his works dance like poetry instead of walking like prose was a mistake. It only made them sound awkward. "Ho's use of artificial elements in his essays has been too lavish. We may sometimes be intoxicated by his array of pigments, designs and allusions. But the fascination of words alone cannot make a work live. It is he himself who has fallen into the labyrinth of words; hence, he lacks what we expect of him most, namely, vitality. While reading his works, I think of a certain biographer's remark on the Pre-Raphaelite poets: poor splendid wings!"

But it did not take long for Ho to acquire that vitality. One year after the publication of The Painted Dream , the war broke out. Ho was compelled to leave Tientsin where he was teaching. He returned to his home in Ssǔchuan. The style of his Return of the Native: A Diary appeared far more lucid. Instead of the "expressions of life", meaning probably the abstract side only, he saw the incompetent rural quacks, the unjustly exploited peasants, and found that "this community formed by human beings is actually a dim, dirty and depressing little hell. I must write a book to prove that all other animals can make a better life than we human creatures do. Ideals, love, beauty and joy are what we find in books. They make us feel tender when sad and tearful when happy. But they are rare in the actual human world. I used to be accustomed to misery and squalor as a child, but by reading books, a golden door of illusion opened to me. After that I did all I could to avoid and forget the realities of this world. I loitered in a non-existent world. There must be an awakening after every dream, but mine comes rather too abruptly."

Shortly after, this author of The Painted Dream accompanied a group of political workers to the front. They walked several thousands of miles on foot across the plain of north China, seeing more misery, more stupidity and the indescribable fortitude of the Chinese peasants, whose heroism and endurance could not fail to move any sensitive writer. He came back with a volume entitled The New Shansi . The change in style and outlook was even more striking than in his Diary . His complete transformation is profoundly symptomatic of the effect of Japanese invasion on modern Chinese literature. The war has toughened the spirit of our writers and cemented their relationship with the soil and the people. xfAJ8f++CtQuRaze9WNIS/mcyEHrrSgPP7xQiUTJzcw733H17j0nz/4erAw7r7kM