Category: Reflection

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Spiritual tour

I always love Chinese literature, verse or prose alike. Even though I do come across some ancient texts from time to time, studying them carefully is another matter altogether. Having to appreciate the words and then, translate them into intelligible English forces me to finally give up my casual attitude.

“Li sao” has been compared with Dante’s Divina Commedia. The length—over three hundred and seventy verses without division—alone is a challenge to the first-time reader. The juxtaposition of reality and fantasy, references to historical figures and ritualistic practices all add to the complexity of the work. Preserved in Han characters, the poem was written in the regional language of Chu. There are numerous rarely used words, some archaic and some unique to Chu region. Among these words I found flora and fauna of Qu Yuan’s world.

His symbolic usage of plants has been widely studied. The species had been catalogued. Yet, his vivid and detailed references to the flowers and herbs led me to a different world, filled with exuberant colors and pungent scents.

I was glad to find many familiar plants: peonies, hibiscus, magnolia, orchids, and waterlilies.

The climate of Chu is warm and humid, favorable for the survival of vermin and the spread of diseases. Aromatic plants, especially those with medicinal benefits, are essential items for daily life. From Qu Yuan’s words, we knew that shamanistic ritual played an important role in his life. He must have collected some of these herbal plants for his altar.

Having written two posts related to Chu poetry, I started planning the following installment. My thoughts, however, still lingered over the colors, shapes, and scents from that garden of fantasy. Clearly, I should put them in words.

Interestingly, in addition to the most common species, many plants in “Li sao” can be found in today’s gardens or in the wildness in various parts of the world. With the increasing popularity of herbal medicine, most of Qu Yuan’s herbs have found their way into North American marketplace. 宿莽/xiǔ mǎnɡ, illicium lanceolatum, commonly known as Chinese star anise, was condemned by Qu Yuan because of its poisonous fruits. With waxy dark green leaves, small red flowers, and fruits, it is planted as a landscaping shrub in the States.

In the ancient garden of Chu, I found a perfect sanctuary for my soul during this tumultuous time.

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Thought process

For years, I was hoping to share my understanding of Western music to young Asian musicians. I was hoping that, with open mind, they would make real efforts to learn the cultural background of the music they wished to perform. My attempts produced extreme limited results. Was my approach wrong or was it that my message was simply inconsequential? My disappointment grew as the years passed. And, then decades. . .

In late June, a YouTube video of Yi-Kwei Sze inspired me to write about Chinese art songs.[1] As I brought up the subject to my Western friends, much to my surprise, their interests were instantaneous; and their responses, positive. It seemed that, accidentally, I had found my calling. So, I took the next step in introducing the genre to a wider audience.

Almost as soon as I start organizing the information, I found it necessary to discuss Chinese literary tradition. Then, I realized, in order to do that, I must trace it back to the roots of Chinese civilization. Thus, an adult version of “Once upon a time” took shape.

The process has been a soul cleansing one for me. I found myself in my childhood classroom, receiving the information from my teachers for the first time. Curious about everything, sometimes, I swallowed the information so quickly that I never had the chance to digest and savor it. Sometimes, I was lost, just by counting the years between me and the ancient stories. Many of my teachers joked about how every Chinese child was born with a five-thousand-year burden. If so, I have been carrying it for all my life. Now is the time to unload it.

When communicating with friends, colleagues, and students, I often assume that everyone follows my thought process. That, in some situation, also means that I assume everyone share the same understanding of the issue at hand. Consequently, I often leave people puzzling, trying to connect the dots. Most of time they are too polite to stop me from rambling on.

There is so much to tell about my culture; there is so little time. To make sure that my stories make sense to all readers, I asked a few friends to look at my drafts. Their responses helped me to organize the materials better—still not perfectly. Indirectly, they also made me aware of the strength and weakness of my writing style. A BIG THANK YOU, everyone.

All aboard. The train is departing—making local stops.

[1]Yi-Kwei Sze & Nancy Lee Sze, Chinese songs_YouTube