World of Scattered Endings · Taking Fragments to Mean the Whole: Late Qing History

Author: Tan Boniu
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2006-06-01
Features: Not really. If someone were to say how great a Hanlin scholar was or how great the Hanlin Academy was, Gong Zizhen would show disdain and proudly say: What's so great about a Hanlin scholar? What's so great about the Hanlin Academy? Every woman in my family is a Hanlin scholar, and my home is a Hanlin Academy! Hanlin scholars? The Hanlin Academy? What nonsense! Hmph! Listening to important figures tell jokes has always been a tough job. The usual procedure is: After an important figure finishes telling a joke, they burst into laughter, then look around, and the onlookers, understanding the situation, roar with laughter. From this exchange between Li Hongzhang and Zeng Guofan, we can see that Zeng Guofan was unconventional and clearly a master of humor. The fiery Peng Yulin didn’t hesitate and immediately “used old fists,” but Peng Yulin was short, less than 5'7”, how could the 5'9” Li Hongzhang be afraid of him? Li Hongzhang “also used dirty tricks.” As a result, the Chief of the General Staff and the Commander of the Navy “tumbled to the ground,” losing all their dignity. As for who won the fight, there is no historical record to prove it. According to my analysis: Li Hongzhang had the advantage in physique, while Peng Yulin was skilled in combat techniques. In the first exchange, it would likely have been a tie, with bystanders rushing in to break up the fight. In the end, it should be considered a draw. According to Qing-era notes, the “current emperor” Tongzhi appeared at least three times in public outside the Forbidden City and in Beijing. He once sang loudly in a tavern, earning loud cheers from the crowd; he went to Liulichang to buy Xuan paper in bulk, instructing the shop assistant to collect the money at the Meridian Gate, but the shop assistant dared not enter the gate and had to return the money with an eunuch; he even posed as a Jiangxi scholar and mingled with other scholars heading to the capital for the imperial examinations. Of course, the place where he appeared most often was brothels.
This book is a miscellany. The “miscellaneous” aspect first refers to the variety of genres, including column articles, book reviews, historical essays, and academic essays that combine research with. Second, the “miscellaneous” aspect refers to the variety of writing styles, including colloquial language and classical Chinese. Third, it is a mix of text and images. While there is some suspicion of following trends, each color illustration is carefully annotated. Beyond the captions, the text may explain the content of the artwork, provide insights into the artist’s life, or offer personal reflections, all in the hope of making this book slightly unique among “picture-into-word” books and avoiding being too tedious.
The title “” is self-explanatory. “” naturally refers to the late Qing situation. Although there were ten years of “rejuvenation” (as defined by American sinologist Mary C. Wright, referring to 1860-1870), it ultimately disintegrated and collapsed overnight. “” is larger than a country. According to Huang Zongxi’s philosophy, losing a country is not as frightening as losing the world. Thus, the combination of “” and “” carries both a historical judgment and an aspiration for the future. Life and death are ever-changing, love and hatred intertwined, the great path is chaotic—everything is boiled together in one pot.
I say this is pure nonsense, and I won’t do it again. That’s why I came up with this title. But I couldn’t help adding a subtitle: “.” I think the main title is a bit too “grand,” so adding a small, humble supplement might help balance things out. To be honest, it’s out of fear and insecurity—I dare not take pride in or deceive myself with grand pronouncements. If readers can understand this, I will be very grateful.