Lu Xun , An Outsider's Chats about Written Language

Lu Xun1 (1881–1936) is generally regarded as the greatest Chinese writer of the twentieth century. He never produced a novel, but he wrote numerous memorable short stories and countless essays and letters that had an enormous impact on modern China. Among his most celebrated works are "The True Story of Ah-Q" (A-Q zhengzhuan), "Diary of a Madman" (Kuangren riji), and "My Old Hometown" (Guxiang). Lu Xun was also a deeply learned chronicler and critic of Chinese literature; his Brief History of Chinese Fiction (Zhongguo xiaoshuo shilüe) remains authoritative to this day. Hawai'i Reader in Traditional Chinese Culture, edited by © 2005 by the University of Hawai'i Press. Used with the permission of the From the, edited by Victor H. Mair , Nancy S. Steinhardt, and Paul R. Goldin,2005 by the University of Hawai'i Press. Used with the permission of the University of Hawai'i Press . This translation is by Victor H. Mair. But Lu Xun was much more than an outstanding littérateur. He was also a trenchant social commentator whose impassioned pleas for reform were instrumental in guiding China's path toward progress — even for many decades after his death. He made bitterly honest comments on virtually all aspects of Chinese institutions, culture, and customs. Among the subjects that attracted Lu Xun's attention was the Chinese script. So deep were his feelings about the Chinese writing system that he was reported to have proclaimed shortly before his death, "Hanzi bu mie, Zhongguo bi wang" (If Chinese characters do not fade away, China will perish!). While this is admittedly a radical formulation of the problem posed by China's archaic script in the context of efforts to modernize the nation, Lu Xun was by no means the first Chinese scholar to blame the writing system for his nation's backwardness. Indeed, Lu Xun had been preceded by dozens of individuals from the late-Qing period onward who had devised simple and more efficient writing systems, including alphabets, for the various Chinese languages. And, as early as the Song dynasty, the renowned and erudite polymath Zheng Qiao (1104–1162) had noted some of the deficiencies of the Chinese script. Lu Xun returned to the subject of the Chinese writing system on numerous occasions throughout his career, but his most sustained and probing examination of the characters is to be found in the remarkable text translated here. Because An Outsider's Chats about Written Language (Menwai wentan) is both enormously informative and richly entertaining, we have chosen to present the text in its entirety. It should be noted that the first word of the title, Menwai, is multivalent. Among its applicable meanings here are "outdoors" and — with han (man, fellow) understood at the end — "novice, layman, greenhorn." Since Lu Xun was deeply familiar with the script, its nature, and history, he was obviously being polite in styling himself a menwai(han). Menwai wentan first appeared in the pages of the "Free Discussions" (Ziyou tan) supplement of the influential Shanghai newspaper Shen bao, from August 24 through September, 1934 under the pseudonym Hua Yu. This name may literally be rendered as "China's Prison," but it is also a perfect homophone for "China's Language," a pun that was almost surely in the back of Lu Xun's mind when he chose it for this particular work. — VHM

1. Introduction

I'm told that the heat in Shanghai this year hasn't been equaled in the past sixty years. During the day, we'd go out to grub for a living, and, in the evening, we'd return with our heads hanging. In our rooms it would still be hot, and, on top of that, there were mosquitoes. At such times, paradise could only be found outdoors (menwai). Probably because [Shanghai is] next to the sea, there's always a breeze so you don't need to fan yourself. The neighbors who lived in the flats and garrets in the vicinity would also sit outside. Although we knew each other somewhat, we didn't often have a chance to meet. Some of them were shop clerks, others were proofreaders in publishing houses, and still others were accomplished draftsmen. Everybody would be totally exhausted and sighing over how hard life was. But at least this was a time when we were free, and so we would talk freely.

The limits of our conversations were actually quite broad. We talked about the drought, praying for rain,2 picking up girls,3 a three-inch shrunken mummy,4 foreign rice,5 naked gams,6 and we also talked about classical writing, vernacular language, and colloquial speech.7 Because I'd written several pieces in the vernacular language, when it came to such subjects as classical writing, they were particularly interested in hearing what I had to say, and, to oblige them, I did speak a great deal. In this way, we passed two or three nights before we were diverted by other topics and, at any rate, had exhausted the subject. Little did I expect that, a few days later, several of my neighbors would ask me to write out what I had said.

Among them, there were those who believed me because I had read some old books, others who believed me because I had read a few foreign books, and still others who believed me because I had read both old books and foreign books. But several of them, on the contrary, for these very reasons did not believe me and said that I was a "bat."8 When I touched upon classical writing, they would say with a smile, "You're not one of the eight great prose stylists9 of the Tang and Song periods. Can we believe you?" When I talked about colloquial speech, they again said with a smile, "You're not one of the toiling masses. What sort of big talk are you feeding us?"

Yet there is some truth to this. When we were discussing the drought, mention was made of an official who went to the countryside to inspect the drought conditions. He claimed that there were some places that really wouldn't have had to experience the drought but were now experiencing it because the peasants were lazy and had not manned the irrigation pails. But one newspaper carried a report about a sixty-year-old man who, because his son had died of exhaustion while manning the irrigation pails and, seeing that the drought continued as before, committed suicide since he had no other way out. The views of the official and the country-folk are so far apart as this! Such being the case, I'm afraid that ultimately my evening chats are no more than the idle words of an outsider in his leisure.

After the tropical storm passed, the weather became a bit cooler; but (sic) I finally fulfilled the wishes of those who had hoped that I would write out my opinions. What I have written is much simpler than the words I had spoken, but the overall import differs little and may be considered a copy for my peers to read. At the time, I simply relied on my memory to cite old books here and there. The spoken word, like the wind, rushes past the ear, and so it is not important if you make some mistakes. Committing it to paper made me hesitate, and, furthermore, I was stymied by not having the original texts to check. All I can do is ask my reader to correct my errors as he encounters them.

Written and inscribed on the night of August 16, 1934

2. Who Invented the Written Word?

Who invented the written word?

We are accustomed to hearing stories about how a certain thing was always invented by a sage of ancient times. Naturally, we would ask the same question about the written word. At once, there is an answer from some forgotten source: writing was invented by Cang Jie.10 This is what is advocated by most scholars, and naturally they have their sources for it. I have even seen a portrait of this Cang Jie. He was a monkish11 old man with four eyes. It would seem that, if one is going to create writing, he'd first off better have an unusual visage. Those of us who have just two eyes are not only insufficiently talented; even our features are unsuited for the task.

However, the author of the Book of Changes ([original note:] I don't know who he was) was rather more intelligent. He said, "In high antiquity, government was carried out with knotted cords12 [to make records]. The sages of subsequent ages substituted [written] documents and contracts for these." He does not mention Cang Jie but only says "the sages of subsequent ages."

And he does not mention "invented" but only speaks of an exchange. He was really being very cautious. Perhaps, without thinking about it, he did not believe that in antiquity there could have been a person who created a large number of graphs all by himself so he just gives us this one vague sentence.

But what sort of figure was responsible for replacing knotted cords with documents and contracts? Was he a writer? That's not a bad answer, judged from the current reality of the so-called "writers" who are most fond of flaunting their writing skills but utterly inept when their pens are snatched away from them. Indeed, one must first think of them, and, indeed, they ought to expend a bit of effort on behalf of their own bread-winning tool. Yet this is not true. Although people in prehistoric times sang songs when they worked and sang songs when they were wooing, by no means did they make drafts of their songs or keep manuscripts of them. This is because, even in their dreams, they wouldn't have been able to conceive of selling manuscripts of their poems or of compiling their collected works. Furthermore, in the society of that time, there were no newspaper publishers and bookstores, so writing was of no utility whatsoever. According to what some scholars tell us, it would appear that those who devoted their labors to script must have been the historians.

In primitive society, at first there were probably only mages13 [who were in charge of spiritual and ritual matters]. It was not until after a period of gradual evolution when things became complicated that there was a need to record such matters as sacrifice, hunting, war, and so forth. The mages were then forced to think of a way to make records in addition to carrying out their basic duty of "inviting the spirits to descend."14 This is the beginning of "the [professional] historian."15 Moreover, as we can tell from the phrase "[cause the exploits of the feudal lords to] rise up to Heaven,"16 another of their basic duties was to burn the booklets in which they had recorded the major events concerning their tribal chieftain and his administration so that god above could read them. Consequently, they likewise had to write compositions, although this was probably something that occurred subsequently. Still later, duties were divided up even more clearly, whereupon there came into being the historian, who specialized in keeping records of things. Script is an indispensable instrument for the historian. Some ancient has said, "Cang Jie was the Yellow Emperor's historian."17 We cannot trust the first part of the sentence, but the fact that it does point out the relationship between history and script is very interesting. As for the later "men of letters" who used script to write such fine lines as "Oh, my love! Ah, I am dying!" they were merely enjoying the fruits of others' labors and "do not merit consideration here."

3. How Did the Characters Come into Existence?

According to the Book of Changes, before there were documents and contracts, there clearly were knotted cords. Whenever the country-folk where I'm from have something important they want to do the next day and are afraid of forgetting it, they often say, "Tie a knot in your belt!" Then did our ancient sages also use a long cord in which they tied a knot for everything? I'm afraid this wouldn't work. If there were only a few knots you could still remember [what they signified], but once there were many it would be hopeless. Or perhaps that was precisely something like the eight trigrams18 of Emperor Fuxi,19 with three cords in each unit. If all were unknotted that would be qian (male, Heaven), but if all three had a knot in the center that would be kun (female, Earth). I'm afraid this isn't right either. If there were only eight units, you still might be able [to get by], but if there were sixty-four units, it would be difficult to remember [what they all stood for], much less if there were 512 units!20 There still survives in Peru the quipu.21 It uses a horizontal cord and a number of vertical strings hanging from it which, pulled back and forth, are knotted [and unknotted]. Although it looks like a net without really being one, it seems as though it could actually be used to represent a relatively large amount of ideas. I suspect that the knotted cords of our prehistoric ancestors were like this. However, since they were replaced by documents and contracts and were not the direct ancestors of the latter, there's no harm setting them aside for the moment.

The "Goulan Stele Inscription"22 of Emperor Yu23 of the Xia dynasty was forged by Taoists.

The oldest characters that we can see on genuine artifacts are the oracle-bone inscriptions and bronze inscriptions of the Shang dynasty.24 But these are already quite advanced, so it is virtually impossible to find a single primitive form. Occasionally, however, one can glimpse a small amount of realistic pictography, for example a deer or an elephant. From these pictographic shapes, one can discover clues related to script: the Chinese script is founded on pictography.

The buffalo painted in the Altamira Caves25 of Spain are famous remains of primitive man, and many art historians say that this is truly "art for art's sake," that primitive man painted them for amusement. But this explanation cannot escape from being overly "modern,"26 because primitive man did not have as much leisure as nineteenth-century 27 artists. He had a reason for painting each buffalo, something that had to do with buffalo, whether it was hunting the buffalo or casting a spell on them. Even now people gawk at the advertisements for cigarettes and movies [posted] on walls in Shanghai. One can imagine what a commotion such an extraordinary sight must have caused in unsophisticated, primitive society! As they looked at [the paintings], they would come to know that this thing [called] a buffalo could, after all, be drawn on a flat surface with lines. At the same time, it seems as though they came to recognize [the drawing as a graph representing the word] "buffalo." While admiring the artists' ability, nobody invited them to earn some money by writing their autobiography, so their names have passed into obscurity. However, there was more than one Cang Jie in [ancient] society. Some of them carved designs on sword hilts; others drew pictures on doors. [Such pictographic representations] made an impression and were passed on from mind to mind, from mouth to mouth. [In this fashion,] the number of characters increased [to the point that], once the scribes collected them, they could make do to record events. I suspect that the origins of Chinese writing are to be found within this sort of process.

Naturally, later on there must have been a continual increase in the number of characters, but this is something that the scribes could have managed by themselves. By inserting the new characters — which, moreover, were pictographic — among the familiar characters, others would have easily guessed what they signified.28 Even up to the present time, China is still producing new characters. However, if anyone is intent on being a new Cang Jie, they will surely fail. Zhu Yu29 of [the southern kingdom of] Wu and Wu Zetian30 of the Tang [dynasty] both created bizarre characters, but all their efforts were wasted.

Nowadays, it is Chinese chemists who are the best at creating characters. [The characters they come up with for] the names of many elements and compounds are very hard to recognize, and it is even difficult to read out their sounds. To tell the truth, whenever I see [such characters] I get a headache. I feel that it would be far better and more straightforward to use the Latin names current in all other nations. If you are incapable of recognizing the twenty-some letters [of the Roman alphabet] — please pardon me for speaking bluntly — then you probably won't be able to learn chemistry very well either.

4. Writing Characters Is Like Drawing Pictures

In both the Rites of Zhou (Zhouli)31 and the Explanation of Simple and Compound Graphs (Shuo wen jie zi),32 it is said that there are six different methods for forming characters.33 Here I won't discuss [all six], but will only say a few things related to the pictographs.

Pictographs may be "based upon the body which is close at hand or on objects that are far away."34 That is, by drawing an eye you have mu 目 (eye) and by drawing a circle and adding a few rays you get ri 日 (sun). Of course, that is very clear and convenient. But sometimes you hit a brick wall. For example, if you want to draw the edge of a knife blade, how do you go about it? If you don't draw the back of the knife blade, you can't depict the edge of the blade. At this stage, you have to come up with a novel idea, [such as] adding a short line along the blade edge to indicate "here; this place," thus creating the graph ren 刃 (knife edge). This is already getting to seem a bit troublesome to handle, and it is all the more so when you have something that has no form to represent.

In such cases, all you can do is come up with an "ideational" graph, which may also be called a "conjunct" graph. A hand placed on a tree is cai 采 (pluck), and a heart placed between a roof and a bowl yields ning 寍 (peaceful, serene, tranquil) because one is at peace when one has food and shelter. However, if you want to write the ning of ningke 寧可 (would rather), then you've got to add a line beneath the bowl to show that this is [a different character, which] merely borrows the sound of ning [meaning "peaceful, serene, tranquil"].

Conjunct graphs are more troublesome than pictographs, since you have to draw at least two components. [For a more complicated conjunct] character like bao 寶 (treasure), you have to draw a roof (top), a string of jade (middle left), a jar (middle right), and a cowry shell (bottom) for a total of four components. It looks to me as though the character for "jar" is actually a combination of the two forms for mortar and pestle, so all together there are five components.35 Just for this one character bao you have expended a lot of effort.

But [even this method] won't [always] work, because there are some things that cannot be depicted and other things that one does not know how to depict. For example, the leaves of the pine and the cypress are of different types, and it is possible to distinguish them. But writing, after all, is writing; it cannot be as refined as painting. When you come right down to it, you just have to stick it out. To get us out of this sticky situation, along comes [the principle of character formation called] xiesheng (symphonetic)36 in which meaning and shape part company.37 [With xiesheng characters,] this is already [to adopt the principle of ] recording the sounds [of words for things instead of trying to draw their shapes]. Therefore, some people say that this was [further] progress for Chinese writing. They're right. We may indeed call this progress, yet the foundation is still that of drawing pictures. For example, cai 菜 (vegetable) is classified under the cao (grass) radical and has the sound of cai38 (pluck). [To write this character, you must] draw a clump of grass [at the top], a claw [in the middle], and a tree [at the bottom]: three components. [Another example,] hai 海 (sea) is classified under the shui (water) radical and has the sound mei39 ("each, every").

[To write this character, you must] draw a river [on the left side] and a lady40 wearing a cap (?)41 [on the right side]: also three components. To sum up, if you want to write [Chinese] characters, you are forever compelled to draw pictures.

But the ancients were by no means stupid. They had long since simplified the pictographs so that they became distanced from realistic representations. Seal42 characters with their curved lines still bear the traces of picture-drawing. But with the development of the clerical script43 up to the standard script44 of today, [the characters have grown] poles apart from [the archaic] pictographs.

However, the foundation has by no means changed. Even after [the characters had grown] poles apart [from their archaic ancestral forms], they became pictographs that no longer bore a resemblance to the objects they represented. Although [the characters were now] simpler to write, they were exceedingly difficult to recognize. [You simply] had to memorize them arbitrarily one by one.

Furthermore, there are still some characters that even today are by no means simple. For example, if you ask a child to write luan 鸞 (a mythical bird like the phoenix) or zao 鑿 (chisel), it's very hard to fit inside a half-inch square unless he practices for five or six months.

Another complication is that, due to sound changes that have occurred between antiquity and the present, there are many symphonetic (xiesheng) graphs whose phonophores have gotten quite out of tune. Nowadays, who still pronounces hua 滑 (slippery) as gu 骨 (bone)45 or hai (sea) as mei (each, every)?46

The ancients handed down writing to us. Admittedly, this is a tremendous heritage for which we should be thankful. However, at the present time, when pictographs no longer resemble the objects they are supposed to represent, and when symphonetic graphs have gotten out of tune, our thanks cannot but be a bit hesitant.

5. Did Language and Script Coincide in Ancient Times?

Having reached this point, I would like to speculate a bit on the question of whether or not language and script coincided in ancient times.

With regard to this question, although modern scholars have by no means come to a clear conclusion, it seems from listening to their manner of speaking that they probably consider them to have coincided, and the further back we go the more closely they coincided. Nonetheless, I'm rather doubtful of that, because the easier a script is to write, the easier it is to make what one writes coincide with speech. But the Chinese pictographs are so hard to draw that I suspect that our forefathers all along stripped away unimportant words.

The Book of Documents (Shujing )47 is so hard to read that it would seem it might well serve as evidence that it was based on spoken language. But research has not yet precisely revealed the spoken language of the Shang and Zhou people [whom it purports to be about]. Perhaps it was more prolix [than the terse written language of the Book of Documents]. As for the ancient books of the Zhou and Qin, although their authors used a small amount of their local topolects, the writing was roughly the same [regardless of what part of China and which speech community they hailed from]. And, even if it was fairly close to the spoken language, what they were using was a standardized Zhou-Qin vernacular, not at all a Zhou-Qin colloquial. All the more it goes without saying for the Han dynasty that, although Sima Qian48 (d. ca. 86 b.c.e.) was willing to render [a few of ] the hard-to-understand expressions of the Book of Documents into contemporary terminology.

Yet it was only in special instances that he adopted a bit of popular phraseology, such as when Chen Shĕ's49 old friend sees that he has become king, he exclaims with surprise, "Wow! Shĕ, you're a splendacious guy as de facto king!"50 I suspect that the four words "as de facto king" in this sentence have undergone refinement by His Lordship the Grand Scribe.

Well, then, shouldn't the children's rhymes, the proverbs, and the folk songs quoted in ancient books be authentic popular language of the time? In my estimation that's hard to say too. Chinese men of letters, by temperament, were quite fond of rewriting the compositions of others. The most obvious example of this is that "The Song of the Prince of Huainan,"51 though it was the same Han-period folk song from the same place, is recorded in two different versions in the History of the Han (Hanshu) and in the Annals of the Former Han (Qian Han ji).52

One goes:

A foot of cloth can yet be sewn,

A peck of grain can yet be husked,

But these two brothers cannot countenance each other.

The other goes:

A foot of cloth will make you snuggly warm,

A peck of rice will stuff your tummy,

But these two brothers do not countenance each other.

If we compare [these two versions], it seems as though the latter is [closer to] the original, yet it's possible that even [in this version] some things have been omitted and that it is merely a summary.

Later, the recorded sayings53 and the storyteller's scripts54 of the Song period, [as well as] the spoken portions of Yuan drama55 and southern plays,56 are also summaries. It's just that the language they used was relatively common and that the words they omitted were relatively few, so that people felt they were "clear as speech."

My surmise is that Chinese language and script all along have not at all coincided. The main reason for this is that the characters are difficult to write, so that the only recourse is to abbreviate somewhat. The writing of the ancients was [thus] a digest of the spoken language of the time.

Therefore, when we write Classical Chinese,57 we are using pictographs that no longer bear a resemblance to the objects they are supposed to represent and symphonetic graphs that are not necessarily in tune to limn on paper a digest of the spoken language of the ancients that no modern person would say and that few can understand. Just think! Wouldn't it be difficult?

6. Consequently Literature Became a Rare Commodity

Writing had its inception among the people, but later it became the exclusive possession of the privileged. According to the surmise of the author of the Book of Changes, "In high antiquity, government was carried out with knotted cords [to make records]." Thus, even knotted cords already belonged to the rulers. By the time [writing] fell into the hands of the mages and scribes, it was even more so, inasmuch as they served under the chieftains and over the populace. As society evolved, the scope of those individuals who learned to write expanded, but [writing] was largely still restricted to the privileged. As for the common people, they were illiterate not because they lacked the tuition fees, but simply because they were considered unfit since [writing] was restricted only to those who qualified. Furthermore, they were not even permitted to look at books. Before woodblock printing developed in China, a good book would invariably be hidden away in the imperial libraries and depositories, so that not even scholars knew its contents.

Since writing belonged to the privileged, it was something dignified and mysterious. Still today, Chinese characters are very dignified. We often see hanging on the wall baskets with the maxim "Cherish paper that has characters on it." When it comes to written charms that can dispel evil and cure sickness, that is due to their mysteriousness. Since writing possesses dignity, then whoever knows how to write will be dignified by his association with it. If new dignitaries keep appearing day after day, this would not be beneficial to the old dignitaries. What is more, once those who can write become numerous, the mysteriousness of writing would diminish. The power of Taoist talismans, which seem to be made up of characters, is due to the fact that, aside from Taoist priests, nobody can read them. Therefore, those who can write are certain to keep a tight grip on [this skill].

In Europe, during the Middle Ages, all literature and learning were in the monasteries. Literacy in Croatia was restricted to monks until the nineteenth century. The spoken language of the people had deteriorated to the point that it was barely adequate for the old way of living. When they wanted to carry out reform, all they could do was import a lot of new words from abroad.

In addition to the limitations of social status and economic means, our Chinese characters present another high threshold to the masses: their difficulty. If you don't spend ten or so years on them, it's not easy to cross this threshold alone. Those who cross over it are the scholar-officials, and these same scholar-officials do their utmost to make writing as difficult as possible because it makes them especially dignified, surpassing all other ordinary scholar-officials. Yang Xiong58 of the Han dynasty, who had a fondness for strange characters, had this failing. When Liu Xin59 wished to borrow the manuscript of his Regional Speech (Fang yan),60 Yang threatened to commit suicide.61 In the Tang dynasty, Fan Zongshi's62 essays were written in such a fashion that others could not punctuate them, and Li He63 wrote poems that were incomprehensible. They all did this for the same reason. Another method is to write characters that no one else knows. A crude way of doing that us to look up a few old characters from the Kangxi Dictionary64 and insert them in your writing. Another, more sophisticated, way is — like Qian Dian65 — to write out the whole of Liu Xi's Explanation of Terms (Shiming)66 in small-seal script.67 Recently, Mr. Qian Xuantong68 copied out Taiyan's69 "Catechism of Minor Learning" (Xiaoxue wenda)70 in the [smallseal ] graphs of [Xu Shen's] Shuo wen.

Chinese characters and the Chinese literary language are already difficult enough by their own nature. On top of that, the scholar-officials have purposely devised all of these additional difficulties that get added on. Such being the case, how could anyone hope that the masses would have any affinity for the Chinese writing system? But the scholar-officials precisely want it to be this way. If the characters were easy to recognize and everybody could master them, then they would not be dignified, and the scholar-officials would lose their dignity along with them. Those who say that the written vernacular is not as good as Classical Chinese take this as their starting point. Nowadays, when those who talk about "the language of the masses" (dazhong yu) say that it is only necessary to teach the masses a "thousand-character curriculum,"71 the roots of such thinking also lie in this.

7. Illiterate Authors

Our predecessors called the digest of ancient spoken language written out in such a difficult script wen,72 while those today who are slightly more progressive call it wenxue.73 But this word wenxue was not adopted from [the pronouncement of Confucius in the Analects ]:74 "In wen xue, there are Zi You and Zi Lu." Rather, it was imported from Japan, where it was their translation of the English word "literature."75 People who can compose this kind of wen (refined writing) — and nowadays it is permissible to write in the vernacular — are called "men of letters" or they are called "authors."

The primary requirement for the existence of literature is the ability to write. Therefore, of course, there cannot be any "men of letters" among the illiterate multitudes. But there are authors among them. Don't laugh until you hear the rest of what I have to say. I believe that, before humankind had writing, there were already creative works. Unfortunately, there was no one to record them, nor was there any way to record them. Our earliest ancestors originally couldn't even speak. In order to work cooperatively, they had to express their ideas; thus they gradually learned to produce complex sounds. Suppose they were carrying wood and found it very difficult but didn't know how to express this. If one among them called out, "Heave-ho! Heave-ho!" this is [a kind of ] creation, and if everybody else — out of admiration — adopted this expression, then that was tantamount to publication. And if it were preserved in some form of notation, that would be literature. Whoever did so would be an author, a man of letters, and he would belong to the "Heave-ho School."76 We need not laugh, for although such a work may indeed be quite childish, there are many respects in which the ancients were not up to moderns, this being one of them. Take, for example, these Zhou-dynasty lines:

Guan! guan! cry the ospreys

On an island in the river;

Graceful is the fair maiden,

A fit mate for the gentleman.

Since this is the first stanza [of the first poem] in the Poetry Classic (Shijing),77 we are so overawed by it that all we can do is kowtow submissively. However, if such a poem had not been written in the past and a modern poet were to write a vernacular poem utilizing these ideas, I suspect that — no matter which newspaper supplement he submitted it to — chances are nine out of ten that it would be stuffed into the waste basket.

Ah, a pretty girl!

She's a good match for the young lord.

What kind of talk is this?

Even among the pieces in the "Airs of the States" (Guofeng),78 there are quite a few that were the creations of anonymous illiterates. Because they were relatively outstanding, these were handed down by word of mouth. The officials [who were sent out to the various states] selected and recorded these poems as reference materials for the government.79 No one knows how many other poems must have disappeared. The two great epics of the Greek poet Homer80 — let us assume for the moment that there actually was such a person — may also be considered as originally being oral recitations, while the extant texts were recorded by others. Poems such as the "Midnight Songs"81 and the "Songs without Accompaniment"82 of the Eastern Jin through the Qi and Chen dynasties,83 and the "Bamboo Branch Lyrics" and the "Willow Branch Lyrics"84 of the Tang dynasty were all originally anonymous creations. They were transmitted by literary men who selected and polished them. While these polished verses have admittedly been preserved, it's a pity that they surely must have lost a great deal of their original character. Still today, there are ballads, rustic songs, fishermen's songs, and so forth everywhere, and these are all the works of illiterate poets. There are children's tales and folk narratives which are the works of illiterate creators of fiction. These are all illiterate authors.

However, because [we are dealing with] works that have not been recorded and that, moreover, are easily lost, the extent of their circulation can not be very wide, and the number of people who know about them will also be small. Occasionally, when men of letters encounter a bit [of this sort of oral literature], they are invariably surprised, and absorb it into their own works as new nourishment. When an old literature deteriorates, a new transformation may be initiated by the adoption of folk literature or foreign literature. Such examples are frequently to be seen in the history of literature. Although illiterate authors may not be as refined as men of letters, they are solid and refreshing.

If we want their works to be enjoyed by everyone, we must enable such authors to write, and, at the same time, we must enable readers to be literate and even to be able to write themselves.

In a word, we must make writing accessible to everyone.

8. How to Make Writing Accessible to the Masses

There were already [attempts] to make writing accessible to the masses at the end of the Qing dynasty.

Don't beat a drum, don't strike a gong!

Listen to me sing a Grand Peace Song. . . .

This was an imperially issued ditty85 for instructing the masses. Aside from this, the scholar-officials also published some vernacular newspapers, but their intention was only that the people should be able to understand them when they were read aloud, not that they should be able to write things out themselves.86 The Thousand Character Textbook for Commoners presumes the possibility of [teaching people] to be able to write out a few things, but it's only enough for writing accounts and letters. If one wishes to write out whatever thoughts are in one's mind, its limited number of characters is insufficient. [Such curricula] are like a prison in which the prisoners are given a plot of land which, however, is restricted, so that all they can do is walk, stand, sit, and lie down in their closed quarters, but can definitely not run outside of the iron bars that have been erected.

Lao Naixuan87 and Wang Zhao88 both devised simplified characters which were quite progressive and whereby one could write words according to their sounds. In the early years of the Republic, when the Ministry of Education wanted to devise an alphabet, these two men were members of the committee [charged with that task].89 Mr. Lao sent a representative, but Mr. Wang attended personally. They had a great fight with Mr. Wu Zhihui90 over whether or not to keep the entering tones.91 The fight was so frantic that Mr. Wu's padded trousers fell down when he sucked in his belly. Nonetheless, after repeated deliberations they did come up with something that they called Letters for Annotating Sounds (zhuyin zimu). At the time, there were quite a few people who thought that zhuyin zimu could replace the characters. In fact, however, this didn't work out because zhuyin zimu, after all, are nothing more than simplified tetragraphs,92 just like Japanese kana.93 It's all right if a few [of these symbols] are sandwiched [between the characters] or if they are [attached as phonetic] annotations to the sides of the characters, but if you want them to stand alone, they're not up to it. It's easy to get them mixed up when writing, and they are readily confused in reading. When the committee members called them Letters for Annotating Sounds, they were well aware of their limited capabilities. If we look at [the situation in] Japan, there are those who advocate reducing [the number of ] characters, there are those who advocate Romanization, but nobody advocates using only kana.

Somewhat better is to use [National ] Romanization ([Guoyu] Luomazi).94 I suppose that the person who did the most advanced research on this subject was Mr. Zhao Yuanren,95 but I'm not very clear about it. [National Romanization] uses the internationally current roman letters for spelling — now even Turkey96 has adopted them — a string of letters [are joined to form] a word; it's exceptionally clear and good. But, for an outsider like me, it seems as though that method of spelling is still too complicated. Of course, if one wants to be precise, then one must be fastidious, but when something is excessively complicated, then it becomes difficult and constitutes an obstacle to popularization. It would be better to have something else that is simple yet not crude.

Now let us examine the New Latinization for a moment. The Daily International Digest97 has published a pamphlet titled "Latinization of Written Chinese," and a supplement to the combined issues for June and July, 1934 of La Mondo (The World)98 [entitled ] "Lingva Scienco" [Language Science] also introduced this [system of spelling]. These publications are so cheap that anyone interested may buy a copy to read. The New Latinization uses only twenty-eight letters, and the spelling is easy to learn. "Man" is rhen, "home" is fangz. "I eat fruit" is Wo ch goz. "He is a worker" is Ta sh gungrhen. It is now being tried out among overseas Chinese and it has seen some success, but so far it's only for the northern topolects.99 But I suppose, after all, that most people in China speak one of the northern topolects — not Pekingese — so that if, in the future, there really is a kind of popular written language that can be used everywhere, it will likely be based mainly on the northern topolects. For present purposes, so long as minor modifications are made after due consideration, enabling it to be compatible with various particular, local pronunciations, this spelling system can be used even in remote parts of the country.

Thus, provided that one recognizes twenty-eight letters and learns a few rules for spelling and writing, then anyone but a lazybones or an imbecile can read and write. Moreover, Latinization has another advantage: one can write fast. The Americans say, "Time is money." But I think that time is life. To squander other people's time for no reason is, in fact, no different than robbing and murdering them. However, those like us who sit idly chatting in the cool [evening] breeze are exceptions!

9. Specialization or Popularization?

Having come thus far, we run into a big problem: spoken Chinese languages are quite different in various parts of the country. If we merely divide them up roughly, there are the five groups of the northern topolects, Jiangsu and Zhejiang topolects, the topolects of Hunan, Hubei, Sichuan, and Guizhou, the topolects of Fujian, and Cantonese. Furthermore, there are also minor differences within these five groups. Now, if we use Latinization to write, should we write in Standard Mandarin, or should we write in colloquial? If we write in Standard Mandarin, many people do not know it. If we write colloquial, people from other places won't be able to read it, and this will cut them further off from each other, which would not be as good as the characters that circulate throughout the country. This is a great defect.

In my opinion, let each locality write its own colloquial during the initial stage. At the beginning, it is not necessary to be concerned whether people in other places understand the meaning.

Before the introduction of Latinization, our illiterates never used characters to exchange information anyway; hence there are no new disadvantages. On the contrary, there is at least the new advantage that people in the same district will be able to exchange ideas and absorb knowledge.

Of course, by the same token, we also need people to write some beneficial books. Yet the question remains whether the language of the masses in various places should, after all, in the future turn toward the direction of specialization or popularization.

In the topolects and in colloquial speech, there are quite a few profound expressions. Where I'm from we call them "pithy expressions."100 They are very interesting to use, much like allusions in Classical Chinese, and there is a distinct pleasure in hearing them. Specialization would entail allowing the topolects from various places to develop more fully by refining their grammar and vocabulary. This would be beneficial to literature, for it would be far more interesting than just using vague generalities in one's writing. But specialization has its own dangers. I don't know linguistics, but when we observe animals, we note that they are bound to perish whenever they become [overly] specialized. Already before there were human beings, there were many animals and plants that died out because they became too specialized. Thus, they lost their ability to evolve and were unable to adapt to changes in the environment.

Fortunately, we human beings cannot yet be said to be overly specialized animals, so please don't worry. The masses have [their] literature, but they should not sacrifice themselves for it. Otherwise, that would be as ridiculous as the living sages who want to make martyrs of eighty percent of the Chinese people by keeping them illiterate in order to preserve the characters. Therefore, I think that, during the initial period, we should use the topolects. However, at the same time, common grammar and vocabulary should be brought in. First use that which is innate; this is [the means to] popularize writing in a given locality. [After that,] add that which is new; this is [the means to] popularize writing throughout the entire country.

Of course, a system devised by a few scholars in their study usually won't work, but just letting things take their own course is not a good approach either. Today on the wharves, in public offices, and in universities there is already something like common speech (putonghua). When people speak, it is neither the National Language (Guoyu),101 nor is it the language of the capital (Pekingese), with each person having their own local accent and intonation. Yet neither is it a topolect, and even if they pronounce it with difficulty and must make an effort when listening, still — when all is said and done — they can speak and understand it. If we regularize [this language of the wharves, offices, and universities] and help it to develop, it can become a part of the language of the masses,102 or perhaps even the main force. When I said that we should "add that which is new" to the topolects, the source of "the new" lies in this. Once this language which stems from nature but has that which is man-made added to it becomes widespread, our common spoken and written language will have been largely unified.

After this, naturally there will still be more to do. After many months and years, when the spoken and written language becomes even more unified, something that is as good as pithy [local] expressions and more lively than classical allusions will gradually take shape, making literature all the more brilliant. This is not something that will happen immediately. Just think of the characters which advocates of the "National Essence"103 hold to be so precious. Didn't it take three to four thousand years to end up with such a pile of bizarre achievements?

As for who should take the initiative in this, that goes without saying: enlightened scholars.

Some may say, "The work of the masses must be done by the masses themselves."104 Of course, that does make sense, but we must look at the role of the speaker. If the speaker is one of the masses, then it is partially right, the right part being that [the masses] should take care of their own affairs, but the wrong part is refusing the help of others. If, however, the speaker is a scholar, then it is completely different: he is using pretty phrases to monopolize writing and to protect his own dignity and honor.

10. There's No Need to Panic

However, without necessarily even taking any real action, the mere mention of this is enough to cause some people to panic.

First they say that those who advocate language and writing for the masses (dazhong yuwen) are "political propagandists in the literary realm like Song Yang,"105 meaning that they are rebels.

Putting a red106 cap on them is the easiest way to oppose them. Yet, at the same time, this means that, for their own peace of mind, they would rather that eighty percent of Chinese remain illiterate.

And, as for verbal propaganda, there ought to be eighty percent who are deaf and dumb.

But this is outside the framework of "chatting about written language," so here I needn't say too much about it.

Of those who are particularly concerned about literature, I now see that there are two types.

One type is afraid that if the masses can all read and write, then everybody will become men of letters. This is like the good man [in the fable] who was afraid that the sky would fall down. I mentioned earlier that, among the illiterate masses, there have all along been authors. I haven't been to the countryside for a long time, but in the past if the peasants had a bit of leisure — for example, if they were relaxing in a cool place — then somebody would tell stories. But the storyteller was usually a special person who was relatively more experienced and a clever talker who could keep people listening, was easy to understand, and moreover was interesting. This was an author and, if you copied down what he said, it would be literature. If there were someone whose language was insipid, yet was excessively loquacious, nobody would want to listen to him and would even unleash many sarcastic remarks in his direction — satire. We've already been playing around with Classical Chinese for several thousand years and with written vernacular for ten-odd years; but are all who can write men of letters? Even if we all become men of letters, this is not like being warlords or bandits since it would not be harmful to the people. All we'd do is read each other's works.

Another type is afraid that [the quality of ] literature would be lowered. The masses are not cultivated in the old literature. Compared to the refined literature of the literati, perhaps they may appear to be "low," but they have not been tainted by the chronic maladies of the old literature.

Therefore, what they compose is vigorous and fresh. I've already mentioned how anonymous literature such as the "Midnight Songs" (Ziye ge) can give new strength to the old literature. Now there are also many folk songs and [folk] stories that have been introduced. In addition, there are popular dramas, such as the autobiographical [speech] by the Ghost of Impermanence107 in "Mulian108 Rescues His Mother," which I quoted in Dawn Flowers Plucked at Dusk (Zhao hua xi shi).109 He says that, because he sympathized with another ghost and let him temporarily go back to earth for half a day, he was unexpectedly punished by Yama.110 From then on, [ he decided] never to be lenient again,

Even if you are [protected by] a wall of bronze or iron!

Even if you are a relative of the emperor!

How human, how conscience-stricken, how law-abiding, and how resolute! Is this something that our men of letters could produce?

This is the authentic work of peasants and craftsmen who perform such plays in their free time, borrowing the theme of Mulian's travels to string together many tales. Except for "The Young Nun Goes down the Mountain,"111 they are completely different from the woodblock printed text of the "Record of Mulian Rescuing His Mother."112 Among the scenes there is one called "Wu Song Kills the Tiger"113 in which two men — one strong and one weak — do the acting.

First the strong man takes the part of Wu Song and the weak man the part of the tiger. The weak man complains when he is beaten roundly by the strong man who says, "You're a tiger. If I don't beat you, won't you bite me to death?" All that the weak man can do is ask to exchange [roles], but when he is bitten mercilessly by the strong man and grumbles, the strong man says, "You're Wu Song. If I don't bite you, won't I be beaten to death by you?" I think that, compared to the fables of the Greek, Aesop,114 or of the Russian, Sologub,115 this is in no way inferior.

If we were to go out into every part of the country to collect them, I suspect that there would be many more works of this sort. However, they naturally have their defects. They have all along been cut off from modern thought by the shackles of our difficult script and difficult literary style. Therefore, if we want Chinese culture to advance as one, we must promote the language of the masses and the literature of the masses. All the more, our writing must be Latinized.

11. The Masses Are by No Means as Stupid as the Scholars Imagine

But this time, no sooner were the language and writing of the masses mentioned than various valiant generals have taken advantage of the opportunity to join the fray. Their backgrounds are not all of a kind, but they all attack the vernacular, translations, Europeanized grammar, and new terms. They all fly the flag of the masses, saying that none of these things is understood by the masses, so they are unacceptable. Among them are some who were originally classicists. They avail themselves of this to assail the vernacular and translations that are right before them. This is the old tactic of "making alliances with those who are distant while attacking those who are near."116 Others among them are slothful persons who have never studied hard. Before the language of the masses succeeds, they want the vernacular to fail, so that they will be left with an empty arena where they can boast wildly. As a matter of fact, they are good friends of Classical Chinese, so I don't want to say anything more about them. What I want to talk about now are those well-intentioned but mistaken individuals who, either because they belittle the masses or because they belittle themselves, are prey to the same failing as the scholars of old.117

Scholars often belittle others, thinking that sentences which are relatively new or relatively difficult must be thoroughly swept away for the sake of the masses, even though they themselves can understand such sentences, since the masses cannot understand them. In speaking and writing, the more ordinary the better. If these views develop further, they will imperceptibly become a new school of the national essence.118 Sometimes, wanting the language and writing of the masses to spread quickly, they propose that everything should suit the taste of the masses, and they even go so far as to say that an effort should be made to "cater to the masses." They intentionally use a lot of swear words to ingratiate themselves with the masses. Naturally, this shows that they are making extraordinary efforts, but if they keep on this way, they will end up becoming new buffoons for the masses.

Speaking of the term "masses," it has a broad range of meaning, including various sorts and types of people. But even if it's an illiterate who can't recognize the simplest character, to my mind they really aren't so stupid as the scholars think. They want knowledge, new knowledge.

They want to learn, and they can pick things up. Of course, if [they're confronted with] a mouthful of new grammar and new vocabulary, they won't understand anything. But if one picks out what is essential and gradually infuses them with it, they will be able to accept it. Their ability to absorb [new things] may well exceed that of scholars with more preconceived ideas. Newborn babies are all illiterate, but by the time they are two years old they understand many words and can say many words. To them, these are all completely new terms and new grammar. They don't have to look them up in Mr. Ma's Grammar (Ma shi wentong )119 or Fountain of Words (Ciyuan),120 nor do they need a teacher to explain them. After listening to them a few times, they understand the meaning through comparison. This is also the way that the masses can pick up new vocabulary and new grammar; this is how they make progress. Therefore, although the proposals of the new national essence school seem as though they were put forward for the masses, in actuality they have served to hold them back. Nonetheless, we cannot adopt a laissez-faire attitude toward the masses either, since their understanding of things in some respects, after all, is still beneath that of those enlightened scholars [who have their interests at heart]. If discrimination is not regularly exercised for them, they may mistakenly choose what is useless, or even what is harmful. Therefore, the new buffoonery of "catering to the masses" is unacceptable.

[Judging] from the instruction of history, in the beginning all reforms are the duty of the enlightened intellectuals. These intellectuals, however, must study, think hard, be decisive, and have perseverance. They may also employ various expedients, yet without deceiving others. They use inducements, but by no means do they cater [to others]. They do not belittle themselves by acting as clowns for everybody, nor do they belittle others by treating them as their own underlings.

They are simply individuals among the masses. I think that only in this way can the cause of the masses be carried out.

12. Coda

I've already said quite a lot. In short, words alone will not suffice; what's important is action. We need lots of people to act: the masses and the vanguard. All sorts of people are needed to act: educators, men of letters, linguists. . . . This is an urgent necessity right now, even if it is like sailing against the current, when all you can do is tow the boat from the bank. To be sure, sailing with the current is pleasant, but even then it is necessary to have a steersman.

Although we can discuss the best methods for towing and steering, in general the greatest benefit derives from practice. No matter how we look at the wind or the water, our goal is always the same: Forward!

Everyone probably has his own opinion, so now let me hear what brilliant ideas each of you [has to offer on this subject].

Translator's Notes