Traditional Chinese Culture Edited by Victor H. Mair Nancy S. Steinhardt and Paul R. Goldin University of Hawai'i Press Honolulu 34 | Cao Pi, "A Discourse on Literature" CAO PI (187-226) was the second son of the formidable military dictator Cao Cao (155-220), whose story is told in Romance of the Three Kingdoms fSanguoyanyi'), and the elder brother of the poet Cao Zhi (192-232). He ended the puppet rule of the last Eastern Han emperor and founded the Wei dynasty in 220; thus he is also known as Emperor Wen of the Wei. Like his father and brother, Cao Pi was an accomplished writer and poet. His "Discourse on Literature" (Lun wen) survives from a critical work entided A Treatise on the Classics (Dianlun), of which only some frag- ments are extant. One of the most notable things about this essay is Cao Pi's use of the notion of qi, breath or vital force, as a concept of literary criticism that has had an immense influence on classical Chinese literary thought. "A Discourse on Literature" is itself a beautiful literary composition. It is particularly touch- ing because we see in it a writer who was secretly anxious and insecure about the value of his work and the uncertain possibility of immortal fame. A great deal of the first part of the essay is devoted to the reasoning that one's literary talent is an inherent quality that cannot be learned or obtained by hard efforts (li qiang); in the second part of the essay, he claims that a person may achieve literary immortality by exerting himself (qiang li). The unconscious inconsistency in the argument is both human and poignant.—XFT A Discourse on Literature Literary men disparage one another; this has been so since antiquity. Fu Yi and Ban Gu were equal in their literary merit, and yet when Ban Gu wrote to his brother Ban Chao, he belittled Fu Yi by saying, " Wuzhong has been appointed the clerk of the Magnolia Terrace because he is skill- ful in composition, but his problem is that once he starts writing, he cannot stop himself."1 People are all eager to flaunt their special talent. However, there are many different literary genres, and few can excel at all of them. Thereupon each person takes pride in his particular strength and uses it to deprecate another's weakness. As a common saying has it, "A tattered broom is worth a thousand pieces of gold as long as it is mine." This is an evil caused by one's inability to know oneself. Kong Rong of Lu, Chen Lin of Guangling, Wang Can of Shanyang, Xu Gan of Beihai, Ruan Yu of Chenliu, Ying Yang of Runan, Liu Zhen of Dongping—these seven masters are the liter- ary men of the contemporary age.2 There is nothing wanting in their learning, and there is noth- ing borrowed in their writings. Considering themselves as swift steeds that could effordessly race a thousand leagues, they have galloped abreast at the same speed. No wonder they have found it difficult to concede to one another! But a true gentieman should always scrutinize himself first and then pass judgment on others, for only in this way may he be exempt from self-deception and discuss literature. Wang Can is artful at writing poetic expositions and rhapsodies. Xu Gan sometimes falls into a rambling mode, but he is still Wang Can's match. Wang Can's rhapsodies such as "The First 232 | Cao Pi, "A Discourse on Literature" Expedition," "Climbing a Tower," "Rhapsody on the Locust Tree," or "Thoughts of a Cam- paign" and Xu Gan's rhapsodies such as "The Black Gibbon," "The Clepsydra," "The Round Fan," or "The Tangerine" are what Zhang Heng and Cai Yong would not have been able to surpass.3 However, it cannot be claimed that Wang and Xu are as accomplished in the other genres. Chen Lin and Ruan Yu's memorials, letters, and memorandums are all of superior quality. Ying Yang's style is harmonious but not forceful. Liu Zhen's style is forceful but not thorough. Kong Rong's sentiments are lofty and subde, and there is something extraordinary about him; but he cannot sustain an argument, and his propositions are often harmed by his rhetorical urge. Occa- sionally he mixes in bantering and jesting, and the best of these satiric pieces put him on a par with Yang Xiong and Ban Gu.4 Common people prize the faraway but scorn the nearby. They look up to reputation but turn their back against reality. What is more, they are afflicted by lack of self-knowledge and so tend to regard themselves as men of great worth. As far as literary writings are concerned, their root is the same but the branches are very unlike. Therefore elegance befits memorials and memoran- dums; lucidity well suits letters and treatises; in epigraphs and eulogies one values plain factual - ness; in poetry and rhapsodies one desires ornate embellishment. These genres are very different from one another, which is why a good writer is usually adept at just one of them. Only a com- prehensive talent can master them all. The essential element in literature is qi (vital force). One's vital force is either inherendy clear or inherendy turbid: one cannot change it by hard efforts. It is just like lute music: even though the score remains identical and the same rules of rhythms are followed, performances of a musical piece differ because the musicians' vital forces and individual abilities are unequal. Deftness and clumsiness are inborn qualities, which even a father cannot pass on to his son and an elder brother cannot hand down to his younger brother. Alas! Literary works represent a great act of accomplishment that helps lead a country, a glo- rious enterprise that lasts throughout eternity. Sooner or later one's life will come to an end; both worldly fame and carnal pleasures are limited to a person's physical body. These things are all ephemeral and have their boundaries; none of them is as capable of permanence as great works of literature. That is why the ancient authors devoted themselves to brushes and ink, revealing their innermost thoughts in writings. Neither depending upon the records of a good historian nor the power of eminent patrons, their names have thus been transmitted to posterity. Thus the Earl of the West5 was imprisoned and he then completed the Book of Changes: the Duke of Zhou6 became famous, and he then produced the Rites: the former did not abandon his endeavors because of disgrace and humiliation; the latter did not alter his resolve because of ease and comfort. Their examples show us how the ancients disdained a foot-long jade disk in favor of a moment, afraid that time would pass them by. However, people nowadays often do not exert themselves. When they are poor and lowly, they are fearful of hunger and cold; when they are rich and powerful, they indulge themselves in luxury and gaiety. In this way they only take care of the business of the present, neglecting the vocation that endures a thousand years. Days and months depart overhead; here below a person's face and body fade away. In an instant one is transformed together with a myriad of things. Herein lies the great sadness of all men with aspirations. Kong Rong and the others have already perished; only Xu Gan, through his philosophical trea- tise, established a discourse of his own. —XFT Cao Pi, "A Discourse on Literature" | 233 Notes 1. Fu Yi (ca. 35-ca. 90), style Wuzhong, was a noted writer and scholar of the early Eastern Han. Ban Gu (32-92), a distinguished writer and historian, was the author of the History of the Former Han (Hanshu). Ban Chao (32—102) was a famous explorer. Magnolia Terrace is where the Han emperors kept books and offi- cial archives for scholars and compilers to work on. Both Fu Yi and Ban Gu had once served in the capac- ity of the foreman clerk of Magnolia Terrace. 2. Kong Rong (153-208), a native of Lu (modern Shandong), was probably the eldest of the "Seven Mas- ters of Jian'an," a designation for the seven eminent writers of the Jian'an period (196-220) that originated from this essay. Chen Lin (d. 217), a native of Guangling (in modern Jiangsu), is now primarily remembered for his poem "I Watered My Horse at a Spring by the Wall," but he had also left behind, among other things, a caustic proclamation against Cao Cao written when he was sdll serving the warlord Yuan Shao. Wang Can (177-217), a native of Shanyang (in modern Shandong), is acclaimed as the most distinguished of the seven in terms of his poetry and rhapsodies. Of Xu Gan's (171-217) rhapsodies, highly praised by Cao Pi, only fragments survive; but his "Treatise on the Middle Way" (Zhonglun), a philosophical work mentioned at the end of Cao Pi's essay, is still intact. Beihai is in modern Shandong. Ruan Yu (d. 212), a native of Chen- liu (in modern Henan), was noted for drafting official letters and documents for Cao Cao. Ying Yang (d. 217), a native of Runan (in modern Henan), and Liu Zhen (d. 217), a native of Dongping (in modern Shandong), both served in the entourage of Cao Cao like the rest of the seven. Except for Kong Rong and Ruan Yu, all died of the great plague of 217. 3. Zhang Heng (78-139) and Cai Yong (133—192) were both famous writers and scholars of the Eastern Han.