Paper: Book

Three Kingdoms

The epic novel, Romance of the Three Kingdoms: China’s Epic Drama which was written by Luo Guanzhong in the 14^th century and later translated by Moss Roberts, illustrates the tragic fall of the 400-year Han Dynasty (202 BCE – 220 CE) in elaborate complexity and detail. Liu Pei and his brothers of the Peach Garden Oath, Kuan Yü, and Chang Fei, represent the heroic loyalist party who tries to defend the throne from Ts’ao Ts’ao (the betraying Chancellor in the north) and Sun Chuan (in the Southland). To the reader’s dismay, Liu Pei is not able to regain control over the state for the Han Emperor, and the tale of the three kingdoms is succeeded in history by four centuries of division, instability, and mostly foreign control. However, readers gain great insight from this book by being able to observe the delicate and formal interactions between the ancient Chinese people, which reflect greatly on the values of the Chinese culture. I am glad that my partner, Maggie, chose this novel for our cultural exchange because I was able to find connections in the story to the two symbols and two proverbs that she shared with me.

Three Kingdoms appropriately fitted the Chinese proverb “Do nothing by halves”, because the fighters of the loyalist party were all extremely hard workers who devoted all of their energy into the war, particularly Liu Pei. As he lies dying, unsuccessful in his life’s quest to return the throne to the Emperor, he says, “Could I do otherwise than drain the strength of my limbs to fulfill the discipline of persevering loyalty whose sequel is but death?” This statement of strong commitment and devotion to the Han dynasty surely has left strong impressions on the Chinese people of their heroic ancestors, and helped them to exert their full strength during adverse moments of China's history.

The tale of the three kingdoms also resembles the symbol of the Great Wall of China, in that it is a war story that involves more than one generation of warriors. The struggle to prevent the fall of the Han dynasty took place over a decade, and consequently, sons replaced their aging fathers in leading the different alliances, creating a substitution of the older Chinese men with the younger Chinese men. As the translator, Moss Roberts, stated in his introduction, the scale of time for this piece is dynastic, rather than individual. K’ung-ming, Liu Pei’s strategic advisor, wrote a testament on the day before his death, after Liu Pei and his two brothers all had been killed in the war. His words reach out to the succeeding generation to sustain the morality and dignity of the Chinese people in order to ensure that the nation will continue to excel forever. He wrote, “I appeal to your majesty to remain pure in heart and free of wrongful desires. Discipline yourself; cherish the people. Fulfill your filial duty to the late king. Extend humane favor within your realm. Raise the obscure and unknowledged, promote the competent and the worthy. Reject the unscrupulous and depraved. Keep wholesome our mores and morale.” The Great Wall stands as physical proof of the great efforts that the people of China have put forth over the generations to instill pride in the nation and gain respect from the rest of the world.

The second proverb from my cultural exchange is, “A single flower does not make a spring.” Maggie told me about the 56 different ethnic groups that constitute the Chinese nation, and she told me that their country values the unique traditions and characteristics of each of them, no matter how small they may be in number compared to the main Han group. In Three Kingdoms, the Peach Garden Oath in which Liu Pei, Kuan Yü, and Chang Fei vowed to become brothers that fight together and die together honored this same concept. Liu Pei was a remote relation to the royal family, Kuan Yü was a fugitive who had killed a man, and Chang Fei was a butcher. None of them were truly fit for the role of loyalist warriors, which were positions for sons of families of high status. However, through their strong personalities and unwavering courage, the contributions of Liu Pei, Kuan Yü, and Chang Fei to the loyalist party were acknowledged, and they rose to become the legendary leaders of the loyalist party.

Lastly, the symbol of the eight horses painted by Xu Beihong is also very relevant to the Three Kingdoms. Liu Pei's gallant fighting, strength in morality, and ability to quickly flee from danger resemble none other than the eight galloping horses and the character they each represent. Even though Liu Pei did not have the birthright to inherit the throne, he became the Emperor of the loyalist party through his fighting spirit and courageous leadership. His example serves as a great reminder to all Chinese people to remember the eight horses in how they conduct themselves, for when they do, the nation can achieve even greater power and pride than they thought possible.

Three Kingdoms was a terrific match for the cultural exchange between Maggie and me, because the complex plot and magnificent life stories of the characters incorporated all of the Chinese proverbs and symbols that Maggie and I had discussed in one way or another. Furthermore, I would recommend this book for anyone interested in the history and the people of China, for this valuable translated version of the Chinese classic enables non-Chinese people to look at the Chinese culture through the same perspective that Chinese people have learned about their own past.

Paper: Ancient Voices

The Court Walls

Hundreds of men have passed by before my eyes

But to me, they are all simply villagers of China.

Yet, today, a special man entered the palace.

As his passing gaze found mine for a glimpse of a second,

My rigid throne melted away,

And I was walking sturdily on my own two feet,

Following his large, strong footsteps

Wherever they lead me.

Ow! My older sister, Silent Rain, flicked the back of my drooping head to keep me awake in the court of the Emperor of China, my father. Although my older sister is thin and maintains a peaceful air in front of the Emperor, she has unbelievable control of her chi, and her bony finger feels like a thunderbolt to my sleepy head. It hurts so much that my back straightens like the palace pillars, and my face cringes like a wrinkled prune. While the Emperor looks away, I turn around at my sister, sitting behind me, and give her a mean face. She only returns a meaner face, so I turn back around and stare blankly at the procession of ragged and hungry villagers that come in and beg my father foolishly for food, money, and land.

After the court is finally closed to the village people and sunset, Silent Rain’s daily scolding commences. “Are you not grateful to your father, the Great Emperor of China, who gives you food to eat, and clothes to wear, and a blanket to sleep under? Then, why can’t you stay awake and show your respect?!” I pretend to listen to her, but my mind wanders. First, I look at the pearls lined neatly in her smooth black hair, wrapped in a tight bun in the center of her head, with not a single wisp of hair out of place. Her face, too, is perfectly painted with high eyebrows, pink cheeks, and thin, red lips that open and close with fierce rage. Her clothes made of delicate golden fabric cling tightly to her thin body, that is very graceful, but very strong and powerful at the same time. The mesmerizing jade that hangs from a golden chain emphasizes her strong beauty. The only things about Silent Rain that don’t seem to match are her three-inch long feet, bound tightly in golden material. Sitting in her lavish chair and lecturing me fervently, her feet swing back and forth of the floor. I swing my feet too, as if I’m dashing out of this confining palace, but my little “golden lilies” paddle through the air in vain.

Every day, my life is the same thing. I have never been outside of this gray palace, where I have no freedom or any fun. I long to walk in an open street, breathe in some fresh air, and run and play with happy children. But instead, I must sit in my court chair all morning and afternoon, and my only play friends are the lion statues that line the palace walls and play the staring game with me. It is no use complaining to Silent Rain. She tells me I am foolish for not being happy that my father is the Emperor of China, for this fact ensures that I will never have to perform hard labor, and that I will never be without shelter, or food to eat. If my feet were normal like the feet of the commoner girls that I can sometimes see outside my window, I would sneakily climb out of my window at night, or maybe even run at full speed from the court room, in plain sight of the Emperor himself! But with these bound feet, I am hopeless.

It is morning once more, and I find myself staring at an old man on his knees, begging the Emperor for more food for his wife and five starving children. His feet are bare, and the coarse souls of his feet look very out of place in the Emperor’s refined hall. The Emperor, elevated in his golden throne and decorated in the finest clothes in all the world, denies him, just as he denies every single villager I have witnessed. I wonder what this old commoner sees as he looks at the Emperor one last time before he returns empty handed to his starving family. I wonder how he feels.

Look, here comes another villager now. This man is rather young, and his body is built very strong, as if he is a very helpful worker in his father’s field. I was trying to entertain myself by guessing what exactly he was going to ask the Emperor for. I looked directly into his eyes as he walked down the long carpet trail to the Emperor’s throne to see if he is happy, or angry, or sad. This young many looks very sad, for I see tears welling up in corners of his eyes, and his two black eyes are staring straight in my direction….

Straight in my direction? Is he looking at me?! His eyes are so beautiful and deep, not empty and distant as the other villagers who have walked here before him. When I look far enough into his black pupils, it is as if I see all of the suffering he has been through in his life as a commoner. My heart begins to beat rapidly, for I almost feel as if I am experiencing the outside world through his eyes. I crane my neck to keep looking into his eyes as he walks passed me, towards the front of the room. I nearly fall out of my chair, and I know that my sister will scold me today again, once court is dismissed. But all I can think about is this beautiful man who showed me the true world with his eyes. I know that he is my only hope of escaping the court life, my only chance at happiness. My whole body is getting warmer and my heart pounds harder and my mind races faster and faster. I hold onto the cushioned arms of my chair to keep from falling forward, as my body gets drawn in by his gravity.

Finally, the young man arrives at the end of the villagers’ carpet, and he falls humbly to his knees. As his broad, strong back hunches over his muscular legs, he calls out, “Dear Emperor, my father has fallen ill and has died this very morning. As his oldest son, I beg for your permission to become my father’s heir and inheritor of all his money and land. I will work hard, and raise a good, diligent family to serve your country.”

“Fine,” the Emperor said slowly and emphatically. “You may surely inherit your father’s money and land, if you are indeed his oldest son, as you say you are. Just remember, find yourself a good wife, who will make you lots of healthy, hardworking boys.”

“Thank you so very much, sir,” the young man said, his voice is still drowning in grief. He stood up, took another bow towards the Emperor, and turned around to leave the palace. As he turned to exit, his eyes met mine once more.

“Take me with you! Let me be your wife, and let me experience a real family of my own! Let me go outside to work hard in the fields and to try to understand what life is all about,” I shouted to him in my mind.

“Sorry. You are a court girl with bound feet, and we both know it. You will never be able to walk by yourself, much less take care of our children or harvest in the fields. You have no choice but to live here forever,” he gently and apologetically replied through the gentleness of his eyes.

As the golden doors closed behind him, I knew that I was never to see this young, handsome man ever again. I follow the sound of his footsteps as they step out of the Grand Palace, onto the firm soil of the real world. I close my eyes and see his big sturdy feet walk in the direction of his lonely and humble home in the countryside. I am left in my chair in my father’s court, paddling my golden lilies slowly in the cold air.