How and Why The Battle of Chibi was written

March 9, 2013

Lao She, author of Tea House

About ten years ago, I complained to a group of friends that I found reading the Romance of the Three Kingdoms   boring.  I had thought it would fill a gap in my education and had sought out the latest and greatest English translation.  One of my friends, a Japanese, protested that this was her father's favorite book, that many Japanese have read several translations of this Chinese classic even as younger generations knew it chiefly from manga or computer games.

Two or three years later,  overtaken by retirement, I undertook to study Mandarin.  I soon found the usual exercises in the usual text books quite dull and decided to take on some "real stuff."  Lao She's Tea House (茶館), written in the Beijing vernacular (although the author was a Manchu) lured me with its deceptively simple language; the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, I thought, could not be all that much more difficult.


I hasten to add that I would never have progressed to this stage without the remarkable software developed by Pleco (link) that combines access to several Chinese-English dictionaries with recognition of Chinese graphs as they are handwritten on the touch screen of a personal digital assistant.  Even so, the Romance is 120 chapters and over a thousand pages long (in English).  Further, although the Three Kingdoms period of Chinese history dates from 220 to 280 A.D., the Romance actually starts with the fall of the Han Dynasty (around 180 A.D.); by chapter 50, it is still preoccupied with the battle of Chibi that took place in 208 A.D.

A friend who is better versed in East Asian history explained that this Battle was pivotal to the character of the Three Kingdoms as it ensured that China would not be united during this period due to the stand-off among the three contenders for leadership.  This gave me pause and the excuse to bring some "unity" to the project.  The result is the selection and translation of 23 chapters ending before the Three Kingdoms period actually begins.  I also eliminated names that were not associated with a speech or an any action.  This would, as I envisioned it, mitigate the "shaggy dog" character of the classic to a novel that contained enough action, debate and stratagem as well as instances of heroism and stupidity that have made the Romance what it is--the best introduction to classical Chinese thought.  

I did not try to create a novel with anything like Aristotelian unity of form or action, only a story with a beginning, middle and end with my translation following the original fairly closely.  The Chinese text contained much dramatic dialog that I tried to reproduce.  It contained much poetry which I initially avoided (as I do not think there is a single poetic bone in my body) until I chanced upon Archie Barnes' brilliant book, Chinese Through Poetry published posthumously in 2007.  Working through this book gave me the courage to attempt the translation of the poetry I felt was essential for The Battle of Chibi; it also boosted my spirit through the final stages of writing.

This is a story I have told a few times in different ways, in response to those who were kind enough to ask about the making of this book; how a writer comes to write a book.  For the record, this is how and why I came to select from the Romance and translate what became The Battle of Chibi (link).

Women in "The Romance of the Three Kingdoms"

The proper place for women is first described in Romance in the first chapter in which many signs appear suggesting the decay of the Han Dynasty.  Cai Yong, a senior minister called upon to explain these unusual conditions wrote a memorial to the Emperor “asserting that the rainbow in the harem and the metamorphosis of the hens signified the improper influence of the imperial consorts and the eunuchs in public policy.”  The Emperor being indeed under the influence of the eunuchs did not do anything; civil unrest in the form of the Huang Jin rebellion ensued.

When the Emperor Ling lay a-dying (chapter 2 of the Romance), the succession was disputed between his wife and his mother, that is, the Empress He who naturally supported her own son Bian, and the Empress Dowager Dong who protected Xie, the son born to one of Ling’s concubines.  Both had the conflicted support of the eunuchs, who were inclined in the final analysis to support the Empress Dowager (secretly) since they had less to fear from her.  As she watched the Empress Dowager’s political moves, the Empress He decided to confront her at a banquet.  She declared:  “As women, it is not proper for us to participate in court matters.  In ancient times, the Empress Dowager Lu, wife of the first Han emperor, attempted to obtain power and as a result her paternal clan was totally exterminated.  Now I believe, we should seclude ourselves, ‘under nine layers’ as the saying goes, and leave matters of state to the councilors and our elders.  Thus, our nation will continue to enjoy good fortune.”

Dong overplayed her hand when she accused He of having Xie’s mother poisoned and declared that she, Dong, could eliminate both He and her brother He Jin, the military commander-in-chief.  He protested and said:  “I have tried to urge a positive approach, why such anger on your part?”  To which Dong replied:  “You are from a family of small-time butchers, what would you know?”

Even though it portrays them as less than inspiring figures, this episode does not demean the position of the women; it simply shows them with motives and actions more or less comparable to that of the male actors in the story.  Indeed, He’s reference to the consequences of the Dowager Empress Lu’s attempt to gain more authority than was her due, makes it clear that she at least recognized what the ground rules were – she recognized the limits of female intrigue.

The case of Lady Cai, second wife of Liu Biao, is very similar; she wanted to increase the influence of the Cai family in Jingzhou and relied on her brother Cai Mao.  Together they made Biao’s younger son Liu Cong over Liu Qi, the oldest son.  (Whether Cong was her own son or not is beyond the scope of this essay; my own opinion is that he was not.) 

When, after the Battle of Chibi, the leaders of Jiangdong schemed to regain Jingzhou, the role of women is shown to be more complex.  Much has been made of Sun Quan’s filial piety to his mother; in addition one should consider the mother’s actions.  When she found out about the scheme to use the offer of Quan’s sister in marriage as a ploy to lure Liu Bei to Jiangdong, she was furious.  When Quan tried to pass the blame to Zhou Yu, Lady Wu grew even more furious:  “So the great Zhou Yu, protector of six prefectures and eighty-one cities, cannot think of a better way of getting Jingzhou than to use my daughter as bait!  If you kill Bei, her life will be ruined; who in the world will consider a proposal for her marriage?  You all are such geniuses!”

After the marriage of the princess (Lady Sun) to Liu Bei, their relationship appears to be that almost of equals.  Bei wanted to get back to Jingzhou but, he told Lady Sun, he did not want to do so without her and she of her own free will decided to leave Jiangdong with him.  When troops sent after them to prevent Bei’s escape finally caught up with their party, she faced the men down: “Do you only obey Zhou Yu?  Do you dare act against me?  If Yu has the power of life and death over you, do you think that I do not have the same power over him?”

Of course, women do not play a major role in the Romance; it is after all about the future of “all under Heaven.”  Only in the twentieth century have women gained the right to vote.  But the  Romance  is supposed to be reflective of the popular culture seen through the prism of 15^th century literati neo-Confucianism.  The position of women in China would get worse; it was under the Qing that various chastity laws were promulgated.  (The Qing, however, also tried to put an end to foot-binding but in this they failed although they succeeded in making men wear the "pigtail".)

All this is to say that sweeping generalizations about Confucius/Chinese tradition being anti-feminist are misguided.

Fate and Loyalty in "The Romance of the Three Kingdoms"

One of the aspects of the Romance that makes it a classic is that it is not only a collection of fascinating stories, poems, battle scenes, political or military tricks/strategies; it is also suffused with a moral philosophy, perhaps with more than one.  Values matter more or less to the participants in the story; they always matter to the narrator or compiler of the Romance.  Of these values/beliefs are two that collide as the action unfolds: loyalty and fate.

Loyalty begins with filial piety on the not unreasonable assumption that a son filial to his father and ancestors would be loyal to his lord and to the Emperor.  The first step on the ladder of civil service would be to be recommended for one’s “abilities and filial devotion” (舉孝廉) as was Cao Cao when he was twenty (Romance, ch. 1), even though he becomes the leader of the Usurpers of Han imperial authority.  Of Zhou Yu, it was said that he “unfailingly respected his elders” (以交伯符, Romance, ch. 57). 

At the same time, the idea that Fate determined one’s life events was fairly universal.  Sun Jian, the founder of the Wu kingdom in Jiangdong was known more for his martial prowess than the depth of his understanding of astrology; nonetheless, in chapter 6 of the Romance, he remarks that the emperor’s star had grown dim, foreshadowing the fall of the dynasty. 

While planning the final battles of Chibi in chapter 50 of the Romance, Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang of the Loyalist party discuss whether or not Guan Yu could be counted on to guard the final pass that Cao Cao would have to pass through in order to reach safety; they were both aware of his strong sense of honor and felt that since Cao had shown Guan some kindness in the past, Guan would find it difficult to capture Cao.  Liang remarked that he had consulted the astrological charts and found “no indication that Fate has determined Cao’s capture”; therefore giving the assignment to Guan Yu would allow him to earn merit with mercy and “that is also a good thing.”

Chapter 54 of the Romance provides another striking example of the importance of divining what Fate has in store.  In this chapter, Sun Quan and Zhou Yu of the Wu kingdom that had briefly joined the Loyalists to defeat the Usurpers scheme to use a marriage proposal to the Loyalist Liu Bei (offering Quan’s sister as a bride) in order to lure him into Jiangdong where he can be held for ransom (for the province of Jingzhou).  Zhuge Liang agrees with Liu Bei that this is very likely what the Wu leaders intended, but declares that consultation with the stars indicate that nothing untoward would happen to Bei; he therefore urges Bei to accept. 

This notion of Fate extends well beyond the Three Kingdoms:  Graff, in his Medieval Chinese Warfare (Routledge, 2002), noted that there are several chapters on divination in Tang dynasty military manuals even though the historical records, written by more orthodox Confucian scholars, tend to obscure the role of such practices.  Ichisada Miyazaki, 1981, China’s Examination Hell, documents the widespread belief that Fate and spirits influenced if not determined the results of China’s vaunted examination system.

In the context of the events of the Three Kingdoms, when it seemed clear that the Han dynasty was in trouble, there was bound to be a collision between the value of loyalty and the belief that Fate determines the course of events; what should be the proper role of a man who wished to remain loyal when it seems clear that the dynasty is failing, i. e., losing its mandate to rule?  How can loyalty be demonstrated when it would appear that the Mandate of Heaven decreed a change? 

By the time of the Ming dynasty, the scholars had given sufficient thought to this question and, no doubt with the encouragement of the imperial court, codified the proper response:  a man who had sworn to uphold a dynasty could not change his allegiance even if the Mandate of Heaven decrees otherwise.  Those who had not sworn allegiance were free to choose which side they each would uphold.  This was not so clear at the time of the Three Kingdoms and the uncertainty is reflected in the Romance (compiled during the early Ming dynasty).  Such uncertainty gave rise to debate and argumentation that provides an additional dimension of interest to the stories in the Romance.

In chapter 37 of the Romance, Liu Bei meets Cui Zhouping, a close friend of Zhuge Liang’s (the target of Bei’s search for an advisor in his quest to restore the imperial order).  Zhouping declares that order and disorder both proceeded from Heaven, that “peace is getting old and there is cause for dried up spears to be wielded again all over,” and that once Heaven had determined the course of events man should not stubbornly attempt to reverse it (命之所在，人不得而強之乎).  Bei asks to hear more but declares “I am a servant of the Han and have sworn to support it; I would not dare to leave it to Fate.”  At this point, Zhouping pleads ignorance of contemporary affairs and declines to engage in further discussion.  While, Bei’s oath-brothers Guan Yu and Zhang Fei are dismissive of the encounter, Bei seemed anxious to hear more on the subject.

The clash of these values/beliefs is most clearly stated in chapter 43 of the Romance in which Zhuge Liang debates the councilors of the Wu kingdom as well as Sun Quan himself.  During the debate, Liang is asked what he thought of Cao Cao; he replies curtly that Cao is a traitor to the Han at which point one of the Wu councilors, interjects to say that the Han era had passed and that Heaven would dispose of its end.  Liang replies harshly that in embracing Fate, such a person has dishonored his father and his ruler (天下之所共憤﹔公乃以天數歸之，真無父無君之人也).  

Another of the Wu councilor asserts that Cao’s legitimacy did not only spring from the fact that he was holding the Son of Heaven hostage but also because he, Cao, was related to a former prime minister serving the Han.  Liang replies that, in that case, Cao is not only a traitor to the imperial dynasty but is also despicably lacking in filial piety for he is rebelling against the ruler and the dynasty his ancestors had served (不惟漢室之亂臣，亦曹氏之賊子也).

Liang provides something of a resolution of this collision of values in what might have been the end of his mission to forge an alliance between Bei’s Loyalist forces and those of Wu/Jiangdong; he meets with Sun Quan who asks the question why Bei remained defiant of Cao while a reasonable assessment of the military situation might lead others to conclude that it would be best to submit.  Lord Bei, Liang said, remains defiant because he does not accept that Fate should determine his actions, let others do what they would; Bei would not yield.

 It would seem clear that Zhuge Liang has been made the mouth-piece of the Ming neo-Confucian view regarding the balance of loyalty and fate.  But it should not be assumed that Luo Guanzhong was simply toeing the “party line.”  Of the five bosom friends that regularly met and discussed moral and political concerns, Cui Zhouping and two others opted for the “contemplative life” while Xu Shu was Bei’s first advisor on strategy until a forged letter brought him to his mother who was under house arrest in Cao’s camp.   Zhuge Liang of course chose to become Bei’s second and last advisor.  Just before he met and joined Bei, however, he and Zhouping were on one of their usual wandering trips. 

One can only wonder what they discussed during those days.  It is unlikely that the proximity of the events within the narrative of the Romance was a coincidence, and much more likely that Luo intentionally set the discussion between Zhouping and Bei in such close logical and chronological proximity to Liang’s debate in Jiangdong to highlight the uncomfortable collision of the two values/beliefs.  

Mother Xu embodies "virtu"

In the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, one of the two exemplars of xian (the neo-Confucian equivalent of Machiavelli's virtu) is a woman, Mother Xu.  She was the mother of the first consiglieri to Liu Bei, the Loyalist Lord of one of the Three Kingdoms.  Her son is tricked into visiting her as she was held hostage by Cao Cao, the Usurper Lord of another of the Three Kingdoms.  Once there, he would not be free to serve the Loyalist cause again.  His mother excoriates him thoroughly for this stupid mistake and then steps into the room next door to underline her lesson by committing suicide. 
The text continues to extol her xian, quoting a poem in her honor.  To reflect the changing times and tastes/styles, three translations are presented here:

Wise Mother Xun, fair is your fame,
The storied page glows with your name,
From duty's path you never strayed,
The family's renown you made.
To train your son no pains you spared,
For your own body nothing cared.
You stand sublime, from us apart,
Through simple purity of heart.
Brave Liu Bei's virtues you extolled,
You blamed Cao Cao, the basely bold.
Of blazing fire you felt no fear,
You blenched not when the sword came near,
But dreaded lest a willful son
Should dim the fame his fathers won.
Yes, Mother Xun was of one mold
With famous heroes of old,
Who never shrank from injury,
And even were content to die.
Fair meed of praise, while still alive,
Was yours, and ever will survive.
Hail! Mother Xun, your memory,
While time rolls on, shall never.

(C. H. Brewitt-Taylor, 1935).

Mother Xu’s integrity

Will savor for eternity.

She kept her honor free from stain,

A credit to her family’s name.

A model lesson for her son,

No grief or hardship would she shun.

An aura like a sacred hill,

Allegiance sprung from depth of will.

For Xuande, words of approbation.

For Cao Cao, utter condemnation.

Boiling oil or scalding water,

Knife or axe could not deter her.

Then, lest Shan Fu shame his forebears,

She joins the ranks of martyred mothers.

In life, her proper designation;

In death, her proper destination.

Mother’s Xu’s integrity

Will savor for eternity.

( From, The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, translated by Moss Roberts, Peking, Foreign Languages Press, 1995.) 

     Formidable Mother Xu honors a thousand ancestors!

Implacable in her principles, she thus nurtures her family.

She instructs her children to stay true despite hardship,

To keep their spirit unshakeable as the hills and mountains,

With righteousness from the bottom of their hearts.

She cherishes Liu Bei, despises Cao Cao.

She is not intimidated by religious trappings; 
She disdains the executioner’s axe.

She fears only that her offspring might disgrace their ancestors.

She would rather die than witness such degradation--

She would rather break her loom and endure the indignities of war!

Born to this honorable name, she would lay down her life for it.

Formidable Mother Xu honors a thousand ancestors!

From The Battle at Chibi, translated and retold by Hock G. Tjoa.  2009.

Beginning Life's Third Act

Blogging and writing are my preferred activities in Life's Third Act, as Jane Fonda so eloquently described it. For me it began when I retired; I needed something to keep myself from insanity or senility. I actually tried calculus first. That was a truly insane idea. Then I thought: I am Chinese but know next to nothing about China, its language, history or literature. Truth be told, I knew more about The Gilgamish Epic and the "Second Ecumenical Council at Nicea" than about Confucius' Analects or The Romance of the Three Kingdoms. I resolved to correct this and to succeed in the third attempt in my life to learn Mandarin--after all, new technologies had developed since my last failed attempt in 1985.

But "learn Mandarin" books like all learn this or that books are inherently boring, especially the exercises. So I tried to translate real books, starting with Lao She's "Tea House," which I eventually adapted into Heaven is High and the Emperor Far Away, a Play. There is more about this on another page of this blog. My next translation project was The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and selections from it, retold, formed the Battle of Chibi and there's more about that on another page of this blog as well.

My attempt to "study up" on Chinese history and literature was not "scientific." I had always wanted to read Marco Polo but had never gotten around to doing so, hence I started out with that. But I was curious about what modern historians thought about his Travels, so I read up on those too, SOME of them anyway as these studies constitute almost an academic specialty. One observation struck me--Polo did not mention tea. Rereading the Travels confirmed this. My findings I have recorded in "Is it tea or chai?" as well as "Did Marco Polo go to China?"

There were other excursions, usually taken when something piqued my curiosity or disbelief. A historian claimed that a particular Chinese deity was a complete invention and that piqued my interest because I remembered my grandparents speaking about the deity in worshipful tones; hence "Toa Peh Kong." Another historian referred to Gibbon as 'the greatest historian," so I resolved to finish The Decline and Fall (started two or three times over the last thirty years) and determine for myself in "Reading Gibbon in the twenty-first century."

This memoir of my Third Act is not complete nor is the act itself over. It's just that I prefer these things to golf or fishing.