Fallen era

Author: Fei Zhenzhong
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: Fei Zhenzhong's The Age of Decline is one of the best books I have read in recent years. Rather than being a book about late Ming literati, it is more a book about people, strictly speaking, it is a work aimed at exploring modernity. Fei Zhenzhong has been "digging through old books" for quite some time now. Gu Xiaohu of Nanjing once jokingly called him, "Fei Laoshi is the last scholar among us." This line has the style of "Gu's sayings," so it is naturally not to be taken seriously. However, it is undeniable that the strong and enduring "scholarly aura" of Fei Zhenzhong makes it easy for him to face the cultural breath of history, which is quite true. This book is a collection of systematic cultural essays by the writer and critic Fei Zhenzhong, created after his in-depth examination and reflection on late Ming history, figures, and thought in recent years. The book is divided into four parts, collecting 20 articles, which are tied together by the thoughts and actions of late Ming literati recorded in historical accounts. It analyzes the intellectual trends, scholarly conduct, and their relationship with the then social and political conditions of the late Ming intellectual circles, revealing from another perspective the sense of impending doom of late Ming literati and the inner journey of the scholars of that time, and reinterprets and reexamines the so-called "unrestrained" and "awakening" of late Ming literati, pointing out that the late Ming was indeed a thoroughly decadent era, full of originality. At the same time, through his examination and description of the history of late Ming literati, the author hints at the historical challenges and possibilities that a generation of intellectuals would face in a corrupt and autocratic era, provoking deep reflection.
Once, I cited the views of the time, explaining He Xinyin's misfortune as the misfortune of a sage, believing it aligned with the principle that ", ." When Li Zhi spoke of this, He Xinyin was being persecuted and had already died in a prison in Huang'an, Hubei. To have died for what one sought was a worthy death for He Xinyin. However, upon closer examination of the cause of He Xinyin's death, it seems that his death fell short of the ideal "death" of a "." It was only by reading Huang Zongxi's Records of the Ming Confucian Scholars that I gained a clearer understanding of the preceding events leading to He Xinyin's imprisonment and death in prison. He Xinyin went to the capital to meet his companions Luo Jinxi and Geng Tiantai. "One day, he encountered Jiangling in a Buddhist temple. At the time, Jiangling was a vice chancellor, and He Xinyin casually asked, 'Do you know the way of the Imperial Academy?' Jiangling pretended not to hear and stared at him, saying, 'Your intentions are always to soar, but you cannot take flight.' When Jiangling left, He Xinyin felt as if he had lost something and said, 'That man, he will surely take the throne one day, and when he does, he will kill me.'" This Jiangling was later the tyrannical Zhang Juzheng. From his words, He Xinyin sensed the cold, future threat of death. The so-called "speak ill of others and suffer for it," and He Xinyin, who was accustomed to speaking without restraint, probably cast a heavy shadow over his heart from then on. Indeed, when Zhang Juzheng became the chief minister during the Wanli era of the Ming Emperor Shenzong, as soon as he came to power, He Xinyin might have immediately thought of the past incident. At that time, he was hiding in Xiaogan, Hubei, teaching and lecturing, and he must have been restless every day, wanting to avoid it but unable to. It is unknown whether it was at Zhang Juzheng's instigation or whether local official Li Yingcheng, out of personal resentment for He Xinyin's "disagreement in academic discussions," used this case to "please Zhang Juzheng," He Xinyin was finally arrested and imprisoned. The charges were easily leveled against him, such as subverting the Ming teachings, abandoning moral norms, and corrupting customs. On these charges, He Xinyin would have been sentenced to death. He Xinyin understood this, and while in prison, he said, "Can Anyang dare to kill me? Can it even kill me? The one who will kill me is Zhang Juzheng." At the time he said this, He Xinyin was not very angry but, as Li Zhuozhuo described, his spirit was "held captive by Jiangling," showing deep fear and helplessness. He Xinyin died. No matter how sharp his words were or how bold his actions, his linguistic wings were always too fragile to withstand the iron grip of power and were easily broken. This was a reality that a "linguistic" could not bear. When I first read about He Xinyin, I felt very sorry for him. If he died for a single word, the price was too high. In that dynasty that lasted three hundred years and was filled with brutality at every turn, it was not strange that a scholar like He Xinyin died at the hands of power. However, upon rereading, I sensed from He Xinyin's misfortune a linguistic failure of the literati of the late Ming. The question is, why did the literati of the late Ming, when discussing Confucius and Mencius, the mind and the nature, all seem so restless, even so illusory and rebellious? I think this is probably a phenomenon that arises from an era of lost language. If, in the past, the literati of the Wei and Jin and the Six Dynasties had a new language because of the addition of Buddhism, beyond Confucianism, Mencius, Zhuangzi, and Xuan, then the "life-and-death studies" of the Ming Dynasty, which excessively introduced Buddhism, had completely shown the linguistic exhaustion of the literati of the late Ming. The more they tried to live in the linguistic style of Buddhism, the more it became clear that they could not find the language