Acad. Quest. (2012) 25:125–143 DOI 10.1007/s12129-012-9273-z WHY STUDY ISLAM, INDIA, AND

Lessons from the Empire of Writing

Cordell D. K. Yee

Published online: 5 February 2012 # Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2012

One of the reasons often advanced for the study of Western civilization is its history of scientific and technical prowess. Advances in science and technology have resulted in the many conveniences of modern life: air travel, automobiles, and smart phones, to name just a few. These are fruits of the Baconian project, which emphasized observation and measurement in the study of nature as part of an endeavor to “establish and extend the power and dominion of the human race itself over the whole universe.”1 Bacon identified three inventions that separated the ancients from the moderns: the magnetic compass, gunpowder, and printing.2 Of interest here is the last, which has been the object of considerable scholarly attention during the past few decades. The advent of printing has been credited with initiating a revolution that resulted in increased literacy, an enlarged market for books and other publications, and an increased flow of news, information, and knowledge. In short, printing helped to lay the foundations for the development of modern democratic polities, so much so that freedom of the press is held to be fundamental to democracy. It so happens that printing appeared first in China, as well as the other two inventions Bacon cites. China has its own heritage of technical prowess. Paper, which was crucial for the development of printing in the West, was also invented in China. Without paper, the print revolution would have at least been delayed. It is not my purpose, however, to match invention against invention, though at some level it is useful for us in the West to be aware of

1Francis Bacon, Novum Organum with Other Parts of the Great Instauration (1620), trans. and ed. Peter Urbach and John Gibson (Chicago: Open Court, 1994), book 1, Aphorism 129. 2Bacon, Novum Organum, book 1, Aphorism 129.

Cordell D. K. Yee is a generalist who has written on Chinese and Western topics. He teaches across the curriculum in the Great Books Program at St. John’s College, Annapolis, MD 21401; [email protected]. 126 Yee such a list of inventions—if only to prevent the study of Western civilization from lapsing into an exercise in self-congratulation. My interest initially lies in the response in China to the advent of printing. A print revolution in the Western mode did not occur. Consideration of this nonevent will lead to what lies near the heart of Chinese civilization and to what I think we gain from the study of China.

An Inverted History of Printing

My colleague Eva Brann once remarked that in her reading what held true in China was often an “inversion” of what held true in the West. Such a characterization seems apt for a civilization often regarded in the popular imagination as geographically antipodal to the United States. In the West, the modern was marked by the ascendancy of the mathematical and physical sciences over the humanistic disciplines. In China, the inverse was true, even after the appearance of Bacon’s three modern inventions. Humanistic disciplines held more prestige than the mathematical and technical. The history of printing in China seems to be another one of those inversions: democratization in the West versus its inverse in China. Some would protest that a print culture similar to that of the West developed in China. There was a book trade. The availability of printed texts increased opportunity for literacy and pursuit of the literati life with its promise of official position, power, and economic security; and there was considerable social mobility. Thus, the Western pattern can be seen in imperial China, so that the Western turns out to have been universal after all. All the similarities, however, do not hide the halting democratization of China, even given its impressive economic progress over the last few decades. So before turning China into a variation on Western civilization, one should stop to consider the important ways in which textual production in imperial China differed from that in Western societies. Printing was not necessarily an agent of change; it seems to have been an agent of stability. In Western cultures, print letterforms became divorced from manuscript forms, as letterforms were adapted to movable type. The distinction is embedded in the English language: even typographic letterforms written by hand are referred to as print. The process of printing in imperial China remained closely tied to manuscript production. Production of the printed page began with a manuscript copy, which was placed face down on a Lessons from the Empire of Writing 127 woodblock. Portions of the block under uninked portions of the manuscript were carved out, resulting in a mirror image of the manuscript. Manuscript forms of characters were thus also print forms. The printing process with woodblocks might appear cumbersome. Each page required a new carving. A block, if carved on front and back, could be used for the print runs of two separate leaves. In contrast, after each setting, movable type could be reused over and over. Movable type was invented in China in the eleventh century, about four hundred years before Gutenberg, but for most printers in traditional China it was too costly: type would have to be made for thousands of characters in the , not just for a hundred or so as for English. The process of woodblock printing could have been simplified if it had not been so reliant on a manuscript copy. The forms of Chinese characters had changed earlier when the writing brush replaced stylus and graver as the main writing implement. So, it is not difficult to imagine that the strokes of characters could have been altered to allow them to be carved directly into the wood, obviating the need to hire a copyist to transcribe the text to be printed. Such a transformation in the written language, however, did not occur, despite the economic advantage it might have brought. Independent of the printing process, the brush was still an important means of making copies of texts, even for publication. Thus, even after the invention of printing, paper, and movable type, imperial China’s age of print seems to have been at bottom an age of manuscript. Much to the frustration of historians seeking economic, technological, and material causes for the movement of history, Chinese history did not move in the way Western history did. At least part of the reason was aesthetic: the brush was and still is more powerful than print.

Print versus Manuscript

For much of China’s history, from around the ninth to the twentieth century, mastery of the art of writing was considered among, if not the highest, intellectual and artistic achievements. Calligraphy, poetry, and painting together comprised the “three perfections.” The three were often united in the same work of art. Such integration was in line with the injunction of the Daodejing to “return to the uncarved block” an image of simplicity, integrity, and polypotency. 128 Yee

The ability to read and write afforded opportunity for economic and social advancement. But the valuation placed on handwriting went well beyond its social and economic benefits. In the modern West, literacy often affords similar benefits, but calligraphy is considered a minor art at best, and handwriting seems to be losing its place in elementary education. Perhaps even more perplexing to Western sensibilities is that what is arguably the greatest work in the Chinese artistic tradition, Wang Xizhi’s Lanting xu (Preface to the Orchid Pavilion collection, 353), maintains its reputation even though no one has seen it for centuries. This calligraphic work disappeared in the seventh century, reportedly buried with an emperor. Absence of the original has not been regarded as a bar to appraisal or evaluation. This aesthetics of absence is made possible in part by the importance of copying in the tradition. Students preparing for the life of the literate elite spent years copying out classic texts and models of calligraphy. As a result, they knew many texts by heart (an inversion of what Socrates says in the Phaedrus about the threat of writing to memory). This discipline may also help to account for the continued importance of handwritten texts, long after the advent of printing. Although learning the art of writing seems to involve much rote memorization, practice of the art in China affords opportunity for expressiveness and freedom, qualities not usually associated with manuscript culture in the West, such as in medieval Europe. After all, we in the modern West left behind manuscript culture and whatever we think it stood for centuries ago. As a way of getting at the power of handwriting in China, I present print and manuscript versions of two poems. The manuscript copies of the poems do not respect line divisions. That is, the ends of the lines on the manuscripts do not necessarily correspond to the ends of lines of verse. The manuscript copies are read vertically from right to left. Traditionally, printed texts do not observe line breaks either, and are read vertically from right to left. As a concession to modern printing practices (and the limitations of my word processing program), the printed texts are presented so as to be read horizontally from left to right. For ease of reading and to make clearer the verse form, line breaks are preserved. Each line of verse is followed by a transcription of the line in transliteration—to give some notion of the pronunciation3—a word-for-word gloss, and a rough translation. The printed

3I say “some notion” because Chinese pronunciation has changed since the time the poems were written. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 129 form of characters follows a manuscript form known as the standard script, in use since the third century. In the manuscript versions the writing is executed in styles that are more cursive. My discussion of the poems focuses on the departures of the manuscript versions from the print versions. We will look at writing as literature and as linguistic medium, and at the interaction of at least two of the three perfections.

Exhibit 1

黃鶴樓送孟浩然之廣陵 Huáng hè loú sòng Mèng Haòrán zhī Guănglíng At Seeing Meng Haoran off to Guangling [Yangzhou]

李白 by Li Bo (701–762)

1) 古人西辭黃鶴樓 gŭ rén xī cí huáng hè loú Old / person (old friend) / west / departs / Yellow / Crane / Tower My old friend leaves the west from Yellow Crane Tower;

2) 煙花三月下揚州 yānhuā sān yuè xià yáng zhōu Mist (smoke) / flowers / third / month / down / Yang / zhou Amid mist and flowers in the third month he heads downstream to Yangzhou

3) 孤帆遠影碧空盡 gū fān yuán yǐng bì kōng jìn Single (lonely) / sail / distant / shadow / blue-green / emptiness / exhaust His solitary sail is a distant shadow, vanishing into the blue-green void;

4) 唯見長江天際流 weí jiàn cháng jiāng tiān jì liú Only / see / Long / River (i.e., Yangzi) / sky / horizon / flow I see only the Yangzi flowing to the sky’s edge. 130 Yee

Figure 1. Li Ruozhong, transcription of a poem by Li Bo, private collection (18¼×38 in. [46.4×96.5 cm])

The poem narrates the departure of the poet’s friend Meng Haoran, who was also a poet. The vocabulary is spare and somewhat general. The main verb of the first line is commonly used for departure or leave-taking. The Lessons from the Empire of Writing 131 flowers of the second line are unspecified, and the main verb of the same line is a general verb for descent. The verbs of the last line are common words for seeing and flowing. The only possible exception to the generality and commonality of the language is the verb at the end of the third line, which can refer to something being burned up or by extension, used up. The English translation tends to be more verbose than the original, filled out by the addition of articles and prepositions. The simplicity of the grammar and the lack of specification in classical has been credited with imbuing it with universality. Less positively, one might say that the poem is vague. The poet provides enough detail to suggest that the poem takes place during the spring (third month), but other details are left to the imagination of the reader. In the case of manual transcription, the execution of the graphs can complete the poem. The manuscript version (figure 1) has been executed on a scroll. As its size suggests, the writing is meant for display. It is directed toward an audience and as such is a form of publication. The transcription is executed mostly in the cursive style. The characters, however, vary in degree of cursiveness. The least cursive, those approaching their standard forms, appear at the top: 故人 guren (old friend”), 三月 san yue (third month), and 碧空 bi kong (blue-green void). Their placement seems deliberate. Their meanings help to capture the essential action of the poem: it is about the onset of absence— emptiness—in a time of flowering. Those same characters are also among the largest characters in the transcription, and impart a slight top-heaviness and thus instability to the work. The calligrapher hints at the emotional state of the speaker of the poem, bringing out what is unstated: the unsettledness one feels at the departure of good friends. The union between old friend and nature in the third line is matched by the union of speaker and nature in the fourth. The flowing of the Yangzi River takes the place of the tears that often accompany leave-taking. The diminution of the figure of the friend as he disappears in the distance corresponds to an increase in the poet’s sense of loss. The transcription emphasizes this movement by reconfiguring the verses to make the center of the poem more prominent. There is a temporal break at the end of the second line, also suggested by the elongation of the last character. The writing forces the reader to stop, as if to allow time for the friend to fade into the distance. 132 Yee

The transition from print-like characters to more cursive forms as one moves down the vertical columns also parallels what happens to the appearance of the friend, who becomes more indistinct in the mist. The apparent diminution of his figure is further emphasized by the calligrapher’s diminution of the character 見 jian, meaning “to see,” the fifth character in and the visual center of the third line of the transcription. The cursiveness of the script should not be confused with sloppiness. The transcription is not dashed off. It is composed. It is not inert; it enacts the poem.

Exhibit 2

竹里館 Zhú lǐ guǎn Lodge in the Bamboo

王維 by (701-761)

1) 獨坐幽篁裡 dú zuò yoū huáng lǐ alone / sit / dark / bamboo grove / inside I sit alone in a dark bamboo grove;

2) 彈琴後長嘯 tán qín hòu cháng xiāo play / lute / after / long / whistle After playing the lute I whistle a long time.

3) 深林人不知 shēn lín rén bù zhī deep / forest / people / not / know In the deep forest people do not know

4) 明月來相照 míng yuè lái xiāng zhào bright / moon / comes / another / to shine The bright moon comes to shine on me. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 133

Figure 2. Jie Xueyang (Da Hai), transcription of a poem by Wang Wei, private collection (12¾× 37 in. [32.4×94 cm])

The transcription of Wang Wei’s poem (figure 2) is written on a scroll intended for display, but seems to defy reading. It is executed in an extreme cursive. Many of 134 Yee the characters bear little resemblance to their standard, or printed, forms. It is as if the calligrapher is engaging in an antisocial act by making the poem inaccessible. The inaccessibility of the writing matches that of the poem’s speaker, who has retired into the depths of the bamboo. In this way, the writing enacts the poem. There are some exceptions to the general unreadability of the transcription. At times, the calligrapher slows down to write more print-like characters: 篁 huang (bamboo grove), in the middle of the first line of the transcription; 琴 qin (lute), at the bottom of the first line; 深 shen (deep), near the top of the second line; 月 yue (moon), at the end of the second line; and 照 zhao (shine), the third large character in the last line. The calligrapher calls attention to these characters to bring out what seem to be contrasts within the poem: between nature and art (bamboo and lute) and between darkness and light (the grove’s depths and the moon’s illumination). I say “seem to be contrasts” because they do not represent opposites, but complement each other. For one practicing an art seriously, withdrawal from society may be necessary. Immersion in the depths of nature can lead to the making of art. Freedom from distraction allows one to focus on one’s art, to work toward discovering what one wants to produce. Such clarity may come after much unclarity of the sort represented by the transcription. This complementarity includes the opening image of the poem, in which the poet is solitary, withdrawn. The poem’s final image hints at a communion: an external light shines on the speaker; in the end, a work of art is shown to an audience who can try to illuminate it. The transcription of the poem is one attempt to do so. Despite its illegibility, it invites the viewer to inspect it. In art, reclusiveness and sociality can be complements.4

Chinese Writing for the West

In the examples presented here, a copy of a poem becomes a performance, a reading of the poem—an interpretive act. Copying in China was not simply a matter of mechanical reproduction. Insofar as they help to reenact the poems, the transcriptions discussed may be thought of as action paintings. In this sense, they instantiate the three perfections: ut poiesis pictura, to reverse the Horatian formula, or perhaps more accurately, ut poiesis scriptura. From an intellectual-artistic point of view, the displacement of manuscript by print is not necessarily a sign of progress. A decision to stay with manuscript

4This is an instance of the kind of self-critical art that supposedly came to predominance in modern literature. It seems that China produced some examples as early as the eighth century. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 135 production may have been an intelligible and intelligent choice. Questions of artistic value seem to impinge on questions of technology. Some might argue that China made the wrong choice. But the continued emphasis on manuscript production led to the creation of works that have not lost their artistic and intellectual value over time, despite changes in technology and transmission—not a bad outcome. I can fairly be accused of cherry-picking here—perhaps influenced by the institution at which I work, St. John’s College, where the educational program concentrates on examples of excellence in the Western tradition. I have focused here on examples of traditional Chinese excellence. I do not claim that every manuscript copy of a poem does what my chosen examples do. I merely wish to show that there is another way in which writing can be thoughtful, a way that would have been suppressed by a more comprehensive movement to print.5 The differences pointed out between the printed and manuscript versions of the poems are not necessary differences. It may be possible to achieve some of the calligraphic effects described here through typography. Some American poets such as e.e. cummings have been interested in typography, but in the West typography has traditionally been associated with impersonality. It is meant to be read through, not read into. Recent developments in printing technology have begun to change this approach, partly as the result of one computer developer’s fascination with calligraphy.6 Modern or postmodern printing, depending on

5I have not even mentioned what can be gained from looking at transcriptions of longer texts, or at multiple transcriptions of the same text, or from looking at the writing performance alone. But ars longa, vita brevis. 6I am referring to Steven Jobs, co-founder of Apple, who took a course on calligraphy after dropping out of college. According to Jobs, what he learned in that course influenced the development of the first Macintosh computer:

I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating. None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do.

Stanford University, “‘You’ve Got to Find What You Love,’ Jobs Says,” prepared text of commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs, Stanford University, June 12, 2005, Stanford Report, June 14, 2005, http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html. Incidentally, Apple’s success in recent years also shows that economics alone does not drive economic developments. 136 Yee how one regards it, appears to be an attempt to achieve what was accomplished in a pre-modern age. Where we in the West may have thought we arrived first, China has been there before us. Part of the point behind the examples presented here is to show that striving for excellence may manifest in different ways. It is possible to recognize excellence or greatness in another’s work, even if it is arises from an experience diametrically opposed to one’s own. Acknowledging diversity or multiplicity does not necessarily mean that we cannot also recognize excellence. Merit can take many forms. Beyond their value as leisure activities, the three perfections were indices of excellence. Poetry provided clues to the interior life. Painting indicated how one looked at and ordered the world. Calligraphy was evidence of discipline and memory, a testament to the union of body and mind; it embodied thought, produced “an imprint of the mind” (xin yin). Learning all three arts was a process of self-cultivation. Carried out well, the process resulted in breadth and depth in a tradition. Mastery of all three activities was quite an achievement. My focus on calligraphy may seem idiosyncratic, if not misguided, because of the difficulty of Chinese writing. True, it is difficult to learn to practice the art well, but not as hard as some authorities say to appreciate it. With glosses such as those used here and a little grammatical instruction, it is possible for those with no prior knowledge of the language or literature to begin to engage with literary texts and works of calligraphy such as those shown here. If our aim in education is to learn “the best which has been thought and said in the world”—and I would stress the last three words, which are often omitted when Matthew Arnold’s formulation is cited—then we should engage with what Chinese tradition has put forth as its best. Thus, no matter what else there might be room for in a Western education, if one is going to study China, one has to devote some effort to its calligraphy, poetry, and painting. Any survey course that neglects to do so is in serious danger of misrepresentation. What we in the West stand to gain from the study of Chinese civilization is not only an understanding of difference, but also perhaps a better understanding of our own past and ourselves by way of contrast. It may be that for the West, our education should focus on the Western tradition. But it should also be recognized that any understanding of the West is incomplete without consideration of non-Western traditions. As a master once said, “To say that one knows when one knows, and to say that one does not know when one does not know—this is knowing.”7

7Confucius, Analects, 2.17. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 137

APPENDIXES

A. SKETCH OF AN INTRODUCTORY COURSE ON THE CHINESE TRADITION

This semester-long course would emphasize close reading and analysis of texts and works of visual art. It is not intended as a comprehensive survey, but a concentrated examination of some important works. The semester begins with some instruction in the rudiments of and culminates in the examination of painting and calligraphy. Parallel texts in Chinese and English would be used where possible. Passages chosen for class discussion would be transliterated and glossed word-for-word:

1. Introduction to classical Chinese grammar (1 week), including Pinyin transliteration and International Phonetic Alphabet.

2. Early Chinese thought (4 weeks): selections from Confucius, Lunyu; and Laozi, Daodejing (in alternate years or semesters, these could be alternated with and Zhuangzi). The selections would be supplemented by background readings in early Chinese social, political, and intellectual history.

3. Poetry (4 weeks): selections from poets Li Bo, Tu , and Wang Wei. Supplemental readings would cover Tang dynasty history, Chinese literary history, and Chinese metrics and verse forms.

4. Visual arts (5–6 weeks ): paintings by Zhang Zeduan, Guo Xi, Ma Yuan, Shen Zhou, Shitao, and Zhang Daqian; calligraphic works by Wang Xizhi, Yan Zhengqing, Su , and Zhao Mengfu. Supplemental assignments would include readings in art history, Chinese aesthetics, Chinese art techniques, and the development of Chinese writing and printing. This segment would also include a workshop in brush technique.

B. SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY

The suggestions are grouped into two parts. The first is a short list of major figures and works in the Chinese tradition, arranged in rough chronological 138 Yee order by discipline. The second part is a selected bibliography of background readings and anthologies, again organized by subject. Undoubtedly some will think both lists too short, since many important figures and works have been omitted. These lists are only a beginning and by no means comprehensive. One new to the subject could start by reading in one of the general background works from the second part, and then dipping into one of the anthologies or more specialized works in whatever subject area captured one’s fancy. One would probably be led to readings in other areas.

1. Major Figures and Works

Calligraphy and Painting Wang Xizhi (calligraphy) Wang Xianzhi (calligraphy) Yan Zhenqing (calligraphy) Liu Gongquan (calligraphy) Guo Xi (painting) (calligraphy, painting, and poetry) Zhang Zeduan (painting) Mi Fu (calligraphy) Ma Yuan (painting) Zhao Mengfu (calligraphy, painting) Wen Zhengming (calligraphy, painting) Dong Qichang (calligraphy, painting) Bada Shanren (calligraphy, painting) Shitao (calligraphy, painting) Wu Changshuo (calligraphy, painting) Zhang Daqian (calligraphy, painting)

Poetry Shijing () Chu (Songs of Chu) Gu shi shijiushou (Nineteen old poems) Tao Qian Wang Wei Lessons from the Empire of Writing 139

Li Bo Bo Juyi Li He Mei Yaochen Su Shi Li Qingzhao Lu You

Fiction Luo Guanzhong, Sanguo yanyi (Romance of the three kingdoms) Feng Menglong, Gujin xiaoshuo (Stories old and new), also known as ming yan (Illustrious words to educate the world) Cao Xueqin. Honglou meng (Dream of red mansions) Pu Songling. Liaozhai zhiyi (Strange tales from a Chinese studio) Lu Xun

Criticism Lu Ji, “Wen fu” (Rhapsody on literature) Liu Xie, Wenxin diaolong (Literary mind and the carving of dragons) Sikong Tu, Ershisi shipin (Twenty-four qualities of poetry) Yan Yu, Canglang shihua (Canglang’s remarks on poetry) Qian Zhongshu, Guanzhui bian (Pipe-awl collection, or Limited views)

Philosophy and Religion Yijing (Classic of Changes) Laozi, Daodejing (Classic on the way and its power) Confucius, Lunyu (Analects) Mencius Xunzi Zhuangzi Han Feizi Sunzi 140 Yee

Daxue (Great learning) Zhongyong (The mean and its practice) Liu An, Huainanzi (Master of Huainan) Wang Chong, Lunheng (Balanced discussions) Huineng, Liuzu tanjing (Platform sutra of the Sixth Patriarch) Zhu Xi Wang Shouren (Yangming)

History Sima Qian, Shi ji (Records of the grand astrologer) Ban Gu, Han shu (History of the Han Dynasty) Sima Guang, Zizhi tongjian (Comprehensive mirror to aid in government)

Mathematics, Medicine, Science, and Technology Zhou bi suanjing (Arithmetical classic of the Zhou gnomon) Huangdi neijing (Inner classic of the Yellow Emperor) Jiuzhang suanshu (Nine chapters on arithmetical art) Liu Hui, Haidao suanjing (Sea island arithmetical classic) Shen Kuo, Mengxi bitan (Brush talks from Dream Brook) Li Shizhen, Bencao gangmu (Compendium of materia medica) Song Yingxing, Tiangong kaiwu (Exploitation of the works of nature)

2. Selected Bibliography (Anthologies and Background Readings)

General

De Bary, William Theodore, eds. Sources of Chinese Tradition. 2 vols. 2nd ed. New York: Columbia University Press, 1999–2000. Gernet, Jacques. A History of Chinese Civilization. Translated by J.R. Foster and Charles Hartman. 2nd ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Mair, Victor H., Nancy Shatzman Steinhardt, and Paul Rakita Goldin, eds. Hawai’i Reader in Traditional Chinese Culture. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 2004. Spence, Jonathan. The Search for Modern China. New York: Norton, 1990. Tanner, Harold M. China: A History. 2 vols. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 2010. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 141

Language

Chang, Raymond, and Margaret Scrogin Chang. Speaking of Chinese: A Cultural History of the Chinese Language. 1978. Updated ed. New York: Norton, 2001. DeFrancis, John. The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 1984. Norman, Jerry. Chinese. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988. Ramsey, S. Robert. The Languages of China. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987.

Painting and Calligraphy

Barnhart, Richard, et al. Three Thousand Years of . New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997. Billeter, Jean François. The Art of Chinese Writing. Translated by Jean-Marie Clarke and Michael Taylor. New York: Rizzoli, 1990. Chiang Yee. : An Introduction to Its Technique and Aesthetic. 3rd ed. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1974. Harrist, Robert E., and Wen C. Fong, eds. The Embodied Image: Chinese Calligraphy from the John B. Elliott Collection. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999. Ledderose, Lothar. Mi Fu and the Classical Tradition of Chinese Calligra- phy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979. Ouyang Zhongshan, and Wen C. Fong. Chinese Calligraphy. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008. Sullivan, Michael. The Three Perfections: Chinese Painting, Poetry, and Calligraphy. Rev. ed. New York: George Braziller, 1999.

Poetry, Fiction, Criticism Birch, Cyril, ed. Studies in Chinese Literary Genres. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974. Cai, Zongqi, ed. How to Read Chinese Poetry: A Guided Anthology. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. Chaves, Jonathan, trans. The Columbia Book of Later Chinese Poetry. New York: Columbia University Press, 1986. 142 Yee

Graham, A.C., trans. Poems of the Late T’ang. 1965. Reprint, New York: New York Review of Books, 2008. Hanan, Patrick. The Chinese Vernacular Story. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1981. Hsia, C.T. The Classic Chinese Novel: A Critical Introduction. New York: Columbia University Press, 1968. Lau, Joseph S. M., and Howard Goldblatt, eds. Columbia Anthology of Modern . New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. Liu, James J. Y. The Art of Chinese Poetry. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962. Minford, John, and Joseph S. M. Lau, eds. Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations.Vol.1,From Antiquity to the Tang Dynasty.New York: Columbia University Press; Hong Kong: Chinese University Press, 2000. Owen, Stephen. Readings in Chinese Literary Thought. Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1992. Waley, Arthur, trans. Chinese Poems. London: Unwin, 1946. Watson, Burton, trans. The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry. New York: Columbia University Press, 1984.

Philosophy and Religion

Chan, Wing-tsit. A Sourcebook in Chinese Philosophy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1969. Ch’en, Kenneth. Buddhism in China: A Historical Survey. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1964. Fung Yu-lan. A Short History of Chinese Philosophy. 1948. Reprint, New York: Free Press, 1976. Ivanhoe, Philip J., and Bryan W. Van Norden, eds. Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy. 2nd ed. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 2006. Kohn, Livia, ed. The Taoist Experience: An Anthology. New York: State University of New York Press, 1993. Sommer, Deborah, ed. Chinese Religion: An Anthology of Sources. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995. Welch, Holmes, and Anna Seidel, eds. Facets of Taoism: Essays in Chinese Religion. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1979. Yates, Robin. Five Lost Classics: Tao, Huang-lao, and Yin-yang in Han China. New York, Ballantine, 1997. Lessons from the Empire of Writing 143

History

Beasley, W.G., and E. G. Pulleyblank, eds. Historians of China and Japan. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1961. Durrant, Stephen W. The Cloudy Mirror: Tension and Conflict in the Writings of Sima Qian. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1995.

Mathematics, Medicine, Science, and Technology

Cullen, Christopher. Astronomy and Mathematics in Ancient China: The “Zhou Bi Suan Jing.” Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Elman, Benjamin. A Cultural History of Modern Science in China. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004. Lu-Gwei-djen, and Joseph Needham. Celestial Lancets: A History and Rational of Acupuncture and Moxa. 1980. Reprint, London: Routledge- Curzon, 2002. Martzloff, Jean-Claude. A History of Chinese Mathematics. Translated by Stephen S. Wilson. Berlin: Springer, 1997. Needham, Joseph. The Grand Titration: Science and Society in East and West. 1969. Reprint, London: Routledge, 2005. ———. Science in Traditional China: A Comparative Perspective. Cam- bridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1981. Needham, Joseph, et al. Science and Civilisation in China. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1954–. Volumes published thus far include: vol. 1, Introductory Orientations (1954); vol. 2, History of Scientific Thought (1956); vol. 3, Mathematics and the Sciences of the Heavens and the Earth (1959); vol. 4, part 1: Physics (1962); vol. 5, part 1: Paper and Printing (1985); vol. 5, part 7: Military Technology: The Gunpowder Epic (1987); vol. 5, part 12: Ceramic Technology; vol. 6, part 1: Botany (1986); vol. 6, part 6: Medicine (2000); and vol. 7, part 1: Language and Logic (1998). Sivin, Nathan. Traditional Medicine in Contemporary China. Ann Arbor, MI: Center for Chinese Studies, University of Michigan, 1987.