Collected Works by Zhou Zuoren -- Miscellaneous Writings from the Yato Room

Author: Zhou Zuoren
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-05-28
Features: This collection includes twenty-seven essays, with fifteen written in the 29th year of the Republic of China and twelve in the past two years. Initially titled "Notes from Yicang Studio," it has now been revised to "Miscellaneous Writings from Yao Tang." After reviewing the compiled essays, I wonder if these writings show any new trends. A simple answer would be, no. As is customary, many moralists' words have already been addressed in the preface to Rainy Day Thoughts (1915), so it's nothing new. The style of the essays seems to have changed slightly, with a greater proportion of classical Chinese elements. In reality, my writing style has not changed. The method is straightforward: write in the best way possible, regardless of sentence structure or grammar. If some classical Chinese elements appear here, it's for this reason—just as sometimes vulgar language or colloquial words appear, it's not that I suddenly decided to write classical Chinese.
Regarding classical Chinese, it is not entirely an undesirable thing. Just like the Qing Dynasty's attire—small jackets and trousers, robes, and hats—many of the materials were usable, though they could no longer be worn in the same way, nor were they suitable for dirty and greasy conditions. During the New Culture Movement, although some people loudly proclaimed to tear these clothes into pieces and throw them into the toilet, no one actually did so. Instead, everyone stripped down, like myself, took a thorough bath in the public bathhouse, and then carefully selected and wore clean undergarments and shirts. The side-seamed robes were also repaired for use, though the white cotton socks were mostly replaced with black stockings, and a dark brown felt hat might be added to the head. The changes in attire after the founding of the Republic of China were originally like this—there is nothing particularly strange about it. The court robes became excellent winter coats, and the blue silk gowns were just as suitable for formal wear in the Republic of China. Moreover, peacock robes could be turned into chair cushions, and round coral crowns could be on canes—this was the best use of them. The only issue was that the robes should no longer be fastened to the chest, and the crowns should not be worn on the head. They could be used elsewhere without any problem.
Our vernacular literature is probably like this—quite rustic. While we might want to use more foreign goods, our living conditions only allow us to make use of old things. The most beautiful decorations might just be a coral cane or something similar. If this is considered a return to tradition, it shows a shallow understanding. It's like a villager seeing a cane and thinking it's a red topknot. There is another point worth highlighting: our vernacular literature has already been "washed" and refined. Although it still wears robes, shirts, and pants, the essence is different. This is something that should be taken seriously. I often have a bias when reading others' works, focusing on the intellectual elements, and the same applies to my own writing. I don't lie to my family, but these essays, though poorly written, have all been carefully considered. Even if they resemble classical Chinese in form, their content is not typical of classical Chinese literature. As the saying goes, "Literature is a form of advocacy." Writing this preface, I make this declaration, much like the opening advertisement of an old shop—this is quite appropriate, and I hope it won't be laughed at by the readers.
December 30, 1913 (Kaiming Year).