Li Du Poetry Studies

Author: Yang Yi / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2001-03-01
Features: The ancient poetic discussions (shih-hua) appear disorganized,, and fragmented. On one hand, this is because Ouyang Xiu created this genre with The Six-One Poetic Discourses, claiming it was "collected for idle talk while residing as a hermit in Ruyin," thus recording anecdotes and thoughts casually. Later followers of this genre inevitably inherited its disorganized nature. On the other hand, ancient poets and poetic discussers emphasized intuition, and their insights were often like lightning and stone, brilliant yet scattered. These scattered fragments are precious because they represent direct dialogues between intuition and classics. They often capture the feeling and preserve the impression of the life of the classics. Especially for "dual-peaked research" like Li and Du poetry, they provide rich inspiration, enabling a concise "connection" between modern reading and the authentic life of Li and Du poetry. For example, Sima Guang's Continuation of Wen Gong's Poetic Discourses says: "Only Du Zimei truly embodies the essence of a poet, as in 'The country is ruined, yet mountains and rivers remain; spring comes, yet grass and trees grow deep. Flowers shed tears at the times, birds are startled at the sorrow,' The mountains and rivers remain, indicating nothing is left; grass and trees grow deep, indicating no one is left; flowers and birds, usually delightful, weep at sight and mourn at sound, revealing the times. For Du Zimei's poem Spring View, it brings the reader's intuition and the poem's intuition together, subtly interpreting some deeply meaningful implications beyond the words. The reason Tang poetry can contain vast cultural and spiritual depth in such a brief form, like a sparrow's beak, is that it uses outstanding intuition to connect the finite words to the distant past and future, leaving ample 'meta-space' for later readers' intuition.
Moreover, the weeping and startled flowers and birds are not just beyond the words but also involve another feature of intuitive thinking: humans transplanting their life into external objects. Because these flowers and birds can now feel the times and resent separation, carrying infinite sorrow for the former's country and the latter's home. Ge Liqiang's Rhythm of Words and Autumn (Volume 4) also says: "Old Du's poem Rain says: 'The purple cliffs rush black, the white birds fly bright.' It resembles the lines 'The river is blue, the birds white; the mountains green, the flowers burning red.' His poem To Wang the Attendant says: 'Morning orioles skillfully shed tears, autumn moon understands sorrow.' It resembles the lines 'Flowers shed tears at the times, birds are startled at the sorrow.' They are likely based on the same mechanism." The "same mechanism" refers to the transplantation of life, where natural objects also gain humanity and understanding. The purple cliffs can rush, the mountain flowers seem to burn, the morning orioles skillfully shed tears, and the autumn moon understands sorrow. The entire natural world shares the poet's melancholy, sorrow, joy, and life, engaging in subtle life exchange. This means that intuition, in connecting the inner or spiritual channel between heaven and humans, demonstrates the function of transplanting human life into external objects. However, this function can be assertive, aggressive, or invasive; it can also be passive, permeative, and affectionate. Li Bai's Three Poems After Drinking with His Attendant Uncle While Touring Dongting Lake (No. 3) says: "Removing Mount Jun would be better, let the Xiang River flow flat.,." Du Fu's Jianmen poem says: "I will blame the true ruler, I wish to." Blaming heaven, removing mountains, and drunkenly intoxicating the lake all treat the heaven, earth, and mountains as living beings or transplant their own life into them, thus venting their inner frustrations and worries onto all things in the universe. This is what is commonly said to be "making enemies to make friends," treating the heaven and earth as opponents, and achieving life transplantation through life confrontation. As for affectionate life transplantation, it is famously exemplified by Li Bai's Drinking Alone Under the Moon, where he "raises a cup to invite the bright moon, facing my shadow, we become three." In expressing his solitary joy, dancing and singing, and the interplay of drunkenness and sobriety, he invites the moon and his shadow to share his joys and sorrows. Li Bai and the moon share a deep bond, almost to the point of life-and-death commitment. Hong Mai's Notes from the Rongzhai Studio (Volume 3) says: "Common folk often say that Li Taibai drowned while boating in the Jiang River at Cangshi in Dangtu after getting drunk and seeing his moonlit reflection, bending down to take it, hence the existence of the Moon-Grabbing Platform." While the legend is unreliable, it reflects a unique and insightful understanding of the life-and-death bond between Li Bai and the moon. The Song of Xiangyang describes indulging in wine and joy, with one line: "The clear wind and bright moon cost nothing, the jade mountain falls on its own, not pushed by others." Buying, selling, and borrowing are human interactions, but what concern do they have with the clear wind and bright moon? However, after saying they cost nothing, he repeatedly mentions borrowing and lending, injecting life experience and care into the whimsicality. Farewell to Han the Attendant Going to Guangde says: "Temporarily borrow moonlight from Dongshan, sing and drink all night to see Quanming off." Accompanying My Clan Uncle, the Minister of Justice, and the Secretary of the Chancellery to Tour Dongting (Five Poems) (No. 2) says: "Borrow moonlight from Dongting, buy wine by the white clouds." Twice borrowing "moonlight" is not enough, so he goes on to "borrow the bright moon." Visiting Bai Si Bi in Qiu Pu says: "Heaven lends a bright moon, flying from the blue. Home is unseen, heartbroken, looking west." These borrowings and lendings can be seen as life contracts between humans and the universe, and the whimsical insights have fostered life transplantation with affection. Life transplantation born from intuition carries a strong animistic color, viewing all things in heaven and earth as having a spirit. This is a key feature of Li Bai as the "banished immortal," his spiritual and life sensibilities. Life is the ultimate source of poetry, though poetry is a symphony of the soul, the soul is always the soul in life. Being in life means there must be events. As a poet, Du Fu lived during the Kaiyuan and Tianbao eras and later, first as a traveler and then as a, experiencing, observing, and reflecting on the crisis of the Tang Dynasty's rise and fall, as well as the devastation of the rebellion. He could be called a person of great troubles and deep thoughts, and the "three many" (troubles, suffering, and reflections) converged, leading to a unique form of "national misfortune, poet's fortune." The immense suffering caused by social collapse strongly reinforces the social-historical and survival consciousness of sensitive poets. Poets living in the late Tang Dynasty and during the An Lushan Rebellion could no longer take poetry as mere self-expression, as individual development had been severely challenged by survival. Li Bai's "raising a cup to invite the moon" under the clouds was replaced by Du Fu's "ruined world, sorrow for the people." Du Fu brought the poetic spirit soaring in the clouds back to the realm of real life, where there were the worries, sighs, tears, and traces of blood of the common people. The troubled times strengthened poetry's narrative function. This change in poetic function was early recognized by Yuan Zhen, a mid-Tang poet who admired Du Fu. He called Du Fu's poetry: "Elaborating from beginning to end, arranging sounds and rhymes." He also said that Du Fu's narrative songs were "named according to the events, without relying on external subjects." The phrase "elaborating from beginning to end" may come from the Great Learning in the Book of Rites: "Things have their roots and ends, affairs have their beginnings and conclusions." It refers to narration. Narration close to reality cannot simply use old titles from the Yuefu. Du Fu's strengthened narration, in some poems or to some extent, transforms the zhi (will/ideal) poetry tradition into a narrative poetry tradition, actually making the aesthetic gaze of poetry look downward and inward, deeply into the realities of life. If we look back, ancient Chinese poetry, while strong in zhi (will/ideal) and emotion, had a narrative tradition since the Book of Songs and the Han Yuefu. This is because both narration and lyricism are wisdom forms rooted deep in human curiosity and desires. The Book of Songs's fifteen guofeng (national songs) include: "When men and women have grievances, they sing together. The hungry sing of food, the weary sing of their labor." Among these are poems about farming, warfare, and family life, many of which contain narrative elements. The Ya and Song sections include poems like Shengmin (Rising People) and Gong Liu (Gong Liu), even called concise epics of the Zhou clan. Many ancient Yuefu poems are full of folk narrative rhythms, such as Mulian on the Path and The Peacock Flying South, which are dramatic, conflict-filled, or filled with a sense of fate, vividly portraying characters and widely celebrated. The Taiping Imperial Collection (Volume 521) records an ancient Yuefu poem Picking Mulian on the Mountain, which is a dialogue between a divorced woman and her former husband, telling a story of family disintegration and deeper flaws. These ancient narrative traditions, through either Confucian or folk channels, had permeated literary poetry over the centuries from the Han and Wei to the Six Dynasties and early to mid-Tang. Du Fu's contribution was to bring the narrative tradition into the profound and painful realities of life, into the turbulent historical context. Previous scholars called his poetry "poetic history," not because he was unskilled in zhi (will/ideal), lyricism, or commentary, but because he strengthened poetry's narrative function and gave zhi, lyricism, and commentary a greater sense of weight and sobriety, vividly portraying and etching, thus expanding the possibilities of poetic narration in a vast field. In this regard, his artistic view of "truth-to-life" is worth noting. In his poem Behind the Wall of Tongquan County Magistrate's Office, Painted Cranes by Xue the Younger Protector, he writes: "Xue the Younger had eleven cranes, all painted true to Qingtian. The painting's color has long faded, yet its verdant hue still transcends the mundane. Each lifts and lowers with intent, noble and towering like a long person. Such ambition and spirit are far beyond mere brushwork. Without effort, they gather in solemn assembly. The crane's dignified posture resembles the white phoenix, not the common quail. Though the hall has not collapsed, it still comforts guests. Exposed outside the wall, it suffers frequent storms. The red sky has true bone, ashamed to drink from muddy waters. Wherever it goes, no one can match its indifference." This is an observation of fireflies in the autumn night of Wu Mountain, where he adopts a flowing perspective to observe and focus on the life form of a natural creature, its light and traces. Small fireflies pass through the sparse curtains in the night color of Wu Mountain, flying onto the poet's clothes, and he feels a sudden joy at encountering a natural life. The four empty words "suddenly, again, yet, by chance" follow the trajectory of the fireflies, from inside the room, the eaves, the well railing, to the flower petals, expressing the suddenness, repetition, change, and chance of this unexpected yet deeply felt life concern. When the poet addresses the fireflies as "you" alongside his own white hair by the, he hopes these natural lives will comfort his withered and sorrowful heart. The four empty words guide the poet's "seeing" gaze up and down, near and far, with a flowing brush that portrays the life form of the fireflies and a drifting brush that reveals the poet's inner state. In the experience of natural life forms, Du Fu's use of the word "zi" (self) is frequent, showing great skill. Ge Liqiang's Rhythm of Words and Autumn (Volume 1) says: "Old Du, living amidst the turmoil of war, feels sorrow when observing things. For example, 'Flowers shed tears at the times.' Thus, he often uses the word 'zi' in his poems. In The Peasant's Mud Drink, he writes: 'Wearing sandals follows the spring breeze, village after village, flowers and willows.' In Self-Reflection, he writes: 'Sorrowful eyes see frost and dew, the cold city's chrysanthemums bloom on their own.' In Remembering My Brother, he writes: 'The garden's flowers bloom on their own, spring days bring birds back.' In Evening, he writes: 'Wind and moon are clear at night, the rivers and mountains are not my homeland.' In Tengwang Pavilion, he writes: 'Ancient walls still hold bamboo color, empty pavilions echo with pine sounds.' The emotions of people and the environment naturally have joy and sorrow, yet they cannot burden the inanimate. These 'zi' characters mostly refer to the natural state of things, but they also contain the helplessness of emotional barriers between humans and the natural state. For example, in Remembering My Brother (Two Poems) (No. 2): 'After countless battles, who remains? Three years I wait for your return. The garden's flowers bloom on their own, spring days bring birds back.' Amidst frequent wars, the poet's brother has been wandering for three years. The poet arrives at his homeland. There, flowers bloom and birds fly, full of spring, but they are self-generating and self-terminating, returning and leaving, indifferent to human joy and sorrow, and unrelated to human relationships and pleasure. Thus, writing beautiful scenes with 'zi' only doubles the poet's unbearable sorrow. Of course, 'zi' has other meanings, such as in Ascending Douluo Temple: 'The rivers and mountains have Bashu, the buildings are from Qi and Liang.' Here, 'zi' does not mean the natural state but "since," and it rhymes with 'you,' appearing very grand. Thus, Zhao Yi in Northern Bayan Poetic Discourses praises: "Across thousands of miles east and west, across centuries up and down, all are included in two empty characters—what extraordinary power!" It is noteworthy that Du Fu can infuse unique and powerful force into empty words, which is indeed one of his innovations. Fan Xiwen in Evening Talks by Bedside (Volume 2) says: "Empty living words are extremely difficult to write, and empty dead words are even harder. Though they are dead words, to make them live is the challenge. This is why it is difficult. Old Du's 'Ancient walls still hold bamboo color, empty pavilions echo with pine sounds,' and 'The rivers and mountains have Bashu, the buildings are from Qi and Liang,' are still recited by people today. Recently, I read his Qutang's Two Cliffs: 'Entering the sky, the cliffs are still stone-colored; piercing the water, they suddenly become cloud roots.' The words 'still' and 'suddenly' are like floating clouds in the wind, shimmering and unpredictable. Who can trace their subtlety? Others like 'The rivers and mountains meet, but the warhorses do not rest,' 'The homeland is still war, but the foreign land is also drums and gongs,' 'The land is cold at first, the mountain is higher, climbing the danger,' 'Books and poetry are on the wall, servants are also banners and standards,' all show great effort."