Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

Author: Luo Guanzhong
Translator: Luo Moushi
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-02-01
Features: Luo Guanzhong Translated from the Chinese with Notes and an Afterword by Moss Roberts. Foreword by John S. Service. "The empire, long divided, must unite; long united, must divide. Thus it has always been." With this characterization of the inevitable cycle of Chinese history, the monumental tale Three Kingdoms begins. As important for Chinese culture as the Homeric epics have been for the West, this Ming dynasty masterpiece continues to be read and loved throughout China as well as in Japan, Korea, and Vietnam. The novel offers a startling and unsparing view of how power is wielded, how diplomacy is conducted, and how wars are planned and fought; it has influenced the ways that Chinese think about power, diplomacy, and war to this day. Three Kingdoms portrays a fateful moment at the end of the Han dynasty (206 B.C.-A.D. 220) when the future of the Chinese empire lay in the balance. Writing more than a millennium later, Luo Guanzhong drew upon oft-told tales of this turbulent period to fashion a sophisticated, compelling narrative, whose characters display vivid individuality and epic grandeur. The story begins when the emperor, fearing uprisings by peasant rebels known as the Yellow Scarves, sends an urgent appeal to the provinces for popular support. In response, three young men—the aristocratic Liu Xuande, the fugitive Lord Guan, and the pig-butcher Zhang Fei—meet to pledge eternal brotherhood and fealty to their beleaguered government. From these events comes a chain of cause and consequence that leads ultimately to the collapse of the Han. Moss Roberts's new translation provides for the first time an authoritative, annotated English-language version of this great and enduring work of world literature.
A Centennial Book
Luo Guanzhong (1330?-1400?) was a novelist and dramatist who played an important role in the development of Chinese popular fiction. Moss Roberts is Professor of Chinese at New York University. He has published an abridged translation of Three Kingdoms (Pantheon, 1976) and is the translator of Chinese Fairy Tales and Fantasies (Pantheon, 1979). John S. Service, the son of an American missionary, was born in China and was a Foreign Service officer there from 1933 to 1945. He is a Fellow at the Center for Chinese Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, and is an authority on Chinese culture and politics. He is also the editor of Golden Glands: The China Memoirs of Grace Service (California, 1989). Published in cooperation with University of California Press.
Jacket Design: Wang Zhi
Excerpt:
Chapter 48
Feasting on the Great River, Cao Cao Sings an Ode;
Linking Its Boats, the North Prepares for War
ASTOUNDED by the stranger's whispered words, Pang Tong turned and found himself looking at his old friend Xu Shu. He became calm once and, sure of their privacy, said, "If you reveal my plan, the inhabitants of the Southland's eighty-one departments will suffer disaster." "And what of the lives and fate of the eighty-three legions over here?" Xu Shu asked with a grimace. "You don't mean to give me away?" Pang Tong pleaded. "I will always be grateful for Imperial Uncle Liu's kindness, and I intend to repay it. Cao Cao sent my mother to her death; I promised then I would never frame strategy for him. Of course, I am not going to expose your very effective plan. The problem is, I am here with Cao Cao's army, and when they are destroyed, the jewel won't be distinguished from the rock. How do I avoid disaster? Suggest some device to save me, and I will sew up my lips and remove myself."
Smiling, Pang Tong said, "Someone as shrewd and far-seeing as you should have no difficulty." "I crave your guidance," Xu Shu insisted, and so Pang Tong whispered a few vital words into his ear and received his heartfelt thanks. Thus Pang Tong left his friend and sailed back to the Southland. That night, Xu Shu secretly had a close companion spread rumors through Cao's camps. The following day, the rumors were on everyone's lips. Soon informants reported to Cao Cao: "The whole army is talking about Han Sui and Ma Teng, saying they have rebelled and are on their way from Xiliang to seize the capital." Alarmed, Cao Cao summoned his advisers. "My greatest concern when I undertook this expedition," he said, "was the danger from the west, Han Sui and Ma Teng. Whether the current rumors are true or not, we must take measures." Xu Shu came forward with a proposal: "I have the honor of being in Your Excellency's employ, but to my dismay have not in any way justified your confidence. I wish to request three thousand soldiers to take action at San Pass to seal this key point of access against invasion from the west. In the event of an emergency, I will report immediately."
Delighted, Cao said, "With you at the pass, I need not worry. Take command of the troops already there. I will give you three thousand more, mounted men and foot soldiers, and Zang Ba will lead the vanguard. Leave without delay." Xu Shu bade Cao Cao goodbye and set out with Zang Ba.
Thus Pang Tong saved Xu Shu's life. A poet of later times wrote:
Cao's southern march—every day a trial,
As rumors spread of fresh calamity.
Pang Tong counseled Xu Shu what to do:
Once let off the hook, the fish swims free.
After dispatching Xu Shu to the north, Cao Cao's mind was easier. He rode to the riverbank to review the army camps and naval stations. Boarding one of the larger ships, he planted in its center a banner marked "Supreme Commander." To his left and right, the naval stations stretched along the river; aboard the ship a thousand crossbowmen lay in wait. Cao Cao stood on the deck. It was the thirteenth year of Jian'an, the fifteenth day of the eleventh month (December 10, A.D. 208). The weather was clear and bright, the wind calm, the waves still. Cao Cao ordered a feast and entertainment for the commanders that evening. The complexion of the heavens reflected the advancing night as the moon climbed over the eastern mountains and beamed down, turning night today. The Great River lay slack, like a roll of white silk unrolled.