"Beijing Local Records: Volume 1 and Volume 2"

Author: Deng Yunxiang
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2004-11-01
Features: Preface II / Zhou Ruchang praised the "Brief Description of the Imperial Capital's Scenery" by Liu and Yu as a truly extraordinary book. Every time I read it, I am struck by its brilliance. However, amidst this joy, there is always a lingering sense of melancholy, because in my limited understanding, it seems that over the centuries, no other book has matched its legacy, leaving such a vast void in their wake. Does this not make one pause and reflect? Over the years, this sentiment has deepened—when I was asked to write a preface for Yunxiang's "Record of Yanjing's Local Culture," my joy was immense, difficult to express in words! What is the significance of "Record of Yanjing's Local Culture"? What value does it hold? I do not wish to answer such pedantic questions here, for this is a laborious task. The Han people wrote odes about the "Three Capitals" and the "Two Capitals"; the poets of the Three Kingdoms era also composed works about the Imperial Capital. It seems that the ancients valued the "Imperial Capital" not only because it was the "foot of the Son of Heaven." In any era, a nation's capital always holds great significance. The representative of Yanjing can be traced back to King Wu of Zhou's feudal system, and in more recent times, it can be traced to the Liao and Jin dynasties—this "recent" period spans over seven or eight hundred years! Among these people, countless songs and tears, work and rest, proliferation and life and death have taken place here, encompassing a vast and profound experience of life and culture. It is likely that a "computer" cannot easily provide an answer. Our Chinese nation has created and accumulated an extremely unique and wonderful culture on this very soil; this culture's expression is not merely confined to the "fine silk scrolls" that some people obsess over, but exists even more richly and enchantingly in the "local culture." This aspect is often overlooked. The reason, I believe, is that it is both magical and ordinary, so people are like fish in water, living among it daily, gradually blending with it. As a result, they see only its "ordinariness" and forget its magic, yet even ordinary things are worth attention and documentation. Perhaps this is why Liu and Yu were so precious. I often reflect on this. What exactly is "local culture"? It could be described as the customs and traditions of a region. Is "local culture" not "rustic"? Those who admire "foreign" trends naturally steer clear. However, because it is associated with the "Imperial Capital," it may still attract some attention, though this is uncertain. In reality, the "Imperial Capital" is still just a large settlement of people. Yet even the "local culture" of a small settlement is worth documenting. Let me use an analogy. Take the concept of a "temple." Today, when one mentions it, the thought that comes to mind is often just a "symbol of superstition." In truth, it is not as simple as that. If someone hears that temples are closely related to "society," they might be shocked, astonished, or mock it as "absurd" or "wrong." They do not know the cultural history of our Chinese nation, that our ancestors, at every settlement, would first establish a "shè" (perhaps under an ancient tree), where the community would gather for rituals, seasonal festivals, celebrations, entertainment, discussions, and propaganda. From here, a series of cultural activities took shape. Later temples were essentially transformed remnants of the "shè" (one of the earliest forms of a temple was the "Land Temple," which was essentially the "shè"). The role of temples goes far beyond "burning incense and kowtowing." One must consider that architecture, sculpture, murals, and other forms of art all developed from these places. Putting on a play called "worshipping the gods" was actually for the entertainment of people ("the heart reaches the gods, and offerings are made for people" is a folk saying that deeply understands this principle!), and the stage was always in front of the temple. The so-called "temple fairs" were actually a combination of "farmers' markets" and "holiday cultural performances." Therefore, Mr. Lu Xun long ago pointed out that this was the only self-created form of entertainment for the rural people of China each year. To dismiss it as "superstition" deprives the farmers of even this small joy! When discussing "local culture," there must be connections to temples. I can confidently say this. These matters are surely worth our reflection. We often speak of "the life of the people." Naturally, there is a scientific explanation for this, which need not be elaborated on here. However, if the life of the people does not include the important aspects we just described, then what meaning does this nation (a great nation!) still have? This nation has its own cultural history and local customs—this is not not a mark of a nation, what else could be? The river of history is endless, and as time progresses, technology advances, civilization evolves, and society changes. But no matter how things develop or change, the fundamental essence and spirit of the Chinese nation will not transform from "rustic" to "foreign." For this reason, future generations must understand the "local culture" of their ancestors, knowing how they lived and why, in order to gain wisdom and cherish the invaluable cultural wealth of their nation. Only then can they correctly understand the relationship between "the past and the present, at home and abroad," make more appropriate choices, and avoid confusion and loss of direction. In light of this, documenting the "local culture" of Yanjing is far from trivial. To treat it merely as something to discuss over tea and wine is to undervalue it. At the beginning, I mentioned "Brief Description of the Imperial Capital's Scenery"—this book is indeed extraordinary. However, it focuses primarily on "scenery," with the exception of a few entries like "Spring Fields," leaving insufficient documentation of "local culture." Yunxiang's new book greatly fills this gap left by predecessors, bridging the long of the past, and preventing us from lamenting the void. This is a great gift to future generations, though I alone have benefited greatly from it. Yunxiang's writing is also excellent, and Liu and Yu would likely have been delighted to see it, perhaps even joining us in its embrace. This is also something that must be mentioned. I hastily drafted this preface, leaving no time for a accompanying poem. Here, I will quote a seven-character from a poem I wrote two years ago in response to his book "Lu Xun and Beijing's Local Culture," which is thematically related: "On the Longest Day of the Year, Yunxiang's Joy Is Unfettered, The Scenery of Chunming Is Tied to Our Home. Footprints Mark the Streets, Wine Shadows and Ink Spirits Climb the Slopes. Dust Particles Fill the Air, Yet I Am Ashamed to Add to the Ink. Rubbing My Sore Eyes by the Cold Lamp, The Dreams of Tokyo Are Always Enchanting." The title of the poem is: "In Response to Yunxiang's New Book Sent on the Day of the Longest Day of the Year." This is the preface. June 13, 1984, Beijing Dongcheng.