Wise World and Human Feelings -- A Series of Books on Culture

Author: Qian Liqun
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-05-01
Features: The title "Worldly Wisdom and Human Feelings" was "borrowed" from Mr. Zhu Ziqing. According to Mr. Zhu in the preface to Shadow of Language and Other Essays, he originally planned to write a book about the "and other" section and named it Book of Worldly Wisdom. "Worldly wisdom," as the name implies, means "worldly wisdom and human feelings." To speak of worldly wisdom and human feelings yet to become "and other" itself is quite meaningful. I remember during the Cultural Revolution, newspapers often followed the list of numerous prominent figures attending a meeting with a phrase like "and someone like X"; this "and" is "and other," probably implying "incidental," "unofficial," or "not worthy of a seat." So, "worldly wisdom and human feelings" might just be "unofficial" and not belong to the "mainstream" of serious writing, but it also gains a special value: it's great material for "small talk." Upon reflection, this is indeed the case. Three or four close friends, rarely gathering, chatting about everything from the heavens to the earth, rambling endlessly—besides "chatting," they inevitably "discuss worldly wisdom." Such topics, beyond life experience, often reveal a touch of wisdom and can be amusingly humorous—just as people can't help but smile when they hear "and" or "and other." According to Mr. Zhu Ziqing, behind this lies a "detached" perspective on life, a "playful" flavor. This enters a certain "realm," which we might call the "realm of prose" or the "realm of vignettes"—in truth, prose (vignettes) are the product of "small talk." The wisdom, wit, and ease found in casual conversations all constitute the essential elements of prose (vignettes) and reveal their essence. During the May Fourth period, when defining the prose vignette heavily influenced by British essays, people emphasized that "the vignette uses a light and casual style to talk about life" (Liang Yuchun: Preface to the Selected Vignettes). Translating this into formal academic language, we can say that the exploration, excavation, and analysis of "worldly wisdom and human feelings" in modern Chinese daily life form one of the fundamental connections between modern Chinese vignettes and the reality in which the writers lived; naturally, this is an artistic connection: it not only determines the content of artistic expression but also its form."—You see, after this academic treatment, "Book of Worldly Wisdom" has become the "orthodox" of prose (vignettes), and "unofficial" has turned into "official": there is no strict, unbridgeable gap between the two. "Worldly wisdom and human feelings" is primarily a form of life wisdom and political wisdom. This is indeed a "specialty" of the Chinese people. Some say that the Chinese nation is not good at dialectical thinking or artistic imagination but excels in understanding worldly wisdom and human feelings, and this may be true. We rarely evaluate a person based on whether they have a philosophical mind or imagination, but rather say that someone is "not worldly" or "understands human feelings" based on their grasp and ability to navigate "worldly wisdom," i.e., life wisdom and political wisdom. Chinese traditional culture, whether Confucianism, Legalism, or Taoism, has shown an exquisite and unique understanding of "worldly wisdom and human feelings," enough to make people admire it. Guo Moruo, in Ten Critiques, once praised Han Fei's Sayings of Difficulties and Sayings of Hardship for their "precise psychological analysis of human feelings and worldly wisdom," believing that "such analytical skill, appearing over two thousand years ago, is truly astonishing." Lu Xun, while studying the history of Chinese fiction, also uncovered the genre of "human feeling novels" () from the Ming and Qing dynasties. He remarked that such novels often "depicted the social world, revealing its warmth and coldness, hence they are sometimes called 'books of worldly wisdom'."—Perhaps Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "book of worldly wisdom" originated from Lu Xun. Of course, one could also say that this is "heroic agreement": an entire generation simultaneously noticed (or strove to uncover) the political wisdom and life wisdom in Chinese traditional culture, and this fact itself is thought-provoking. The ancients long ago said that Chinese history is a "history of mutual slaughter," which crystallized "worldly wisdom and human feelings" in traditional culture. As history entered this century, rapid social reforms led to great changes in people's hearts, and the shifting winds of political struggles forced people to deeply understand worldly wisdom and human feelings. Naivety, simplistic and linear thinking, and a disconnect from reality could even bring catastrophic consequences. The renowned prose writer Sun Li in the essay "On Stubbornness" included in this book spoke of how, during the "Cultural Revolution," his lack of worldly wisdom led to immense suffering. This is an undeniable fact: the Chinese nation learned to understand "worldly wisdom and human feelings" through blood and tears. Therefore, if someone takes pride in the Chinese people's political wisdom and life wisdom, they should first consider the price our nation paid for it: the blood and tears behind "the book of worldly wisdom" should not be forgotten. But if this leads to extremes—constantly remembering, lingering on it, unable to move on—then "the book of worldly wisdom" would not have emerged. Mr. Zhu Ziqing once said that the Zuo Zhuan, Zhan Guo Ce, and Shi Shi Xin Yu were "three classics of conversation" in Chinese tradition. It should be said that both the Zuo Zhuan and Zhan Guo Ce contain rich life wisdom and political wisdom, but they are "foreign diplomatic language" and "persuasive rhetoric," respectively, and are not what we call "the book of worldly wisdom." The only one that truly qualifies is the Shi Shi Xin Yu, which reflects the "freethinking" style of the Wei and Jin periods. The key here clearly lies in the author's (speaker's) heart, temperament, attitude, and observational stance. Lu Xun once said that the "Wei and Jin style" had not only "refinement" but also "transcendence." "Transcendence" means "casual"; if "playfulness" sounds unseemly, it could also be called "open-minded." "Open-mindedness" is "seeing through" followed by "enlightenment." This is both complete clarity and a form of transcendence, with a clear and effortless demeanor. This is what we usually call "humor"—a higher level of wisdom and a higher level of life aesthetics. In my view, those who truly reach this realm, besides the literati of the Wei and Jin period, are only the May Fourth generation. Of course, their cultural backgrounds are naturally different: May Fourth intellectuals were deeply influenced by Western rationalism, with modern concepts of science and democracy internalized as their own survival needs. Yet they were surrounded by traditional customs, and the stark contrast between their inner desires and the realities of their environment made them not only emotionally and psychologically uncomfortable, as if wearing damp underwear, but also constantly felt absurdity. In a sense, this was a keen awareness of the absurdity of their (and their nation's) way of life, making it deeply ingrained; yet when expressed, it was as light as possible. But sensitive readers would understand from the tone of "amused yet helpless" that the author was mocking, even scourging certain weaknesses of Chinese culture and the Chinese people, while also self-deprecating. It is precisely this latter aspect that makes the "critique" in such prose less fiery and sharp, giving it instead a "gentle yet biting" charm, which in turn aligns with another aspect of traditional Chinese aesthetic style. Readers need only read Feng Zikai's "Words of a Traveler" and Lin Yutang's "Murder on the Winter Solstice" and Liang Shiqiu's "Guest" included in this collection to appreciate the humor in the May Fourth generation's "book of worldly wisdom," which arises from the modern "light of reason" reflecting on traditional "social realities," making its "modernity" unmistakable. Humor naturally contains a hint of "playfulness"—after understanding worldly wisdom and human feelings, it seems inevitable. But there seems to be a line here: if "playfulness" goes too far, it can become "a lackey" or even "an accomplice." This is also a "tradition" in China; Lu Xun long ago pointed out that to reduce the cruelty of a butcher to a laugh is to trivialize it; "finding leisure in bloodshed" is fundamentally unacceptable. Lu Xun was right when he said, "The world is truly a difficult place: to call someone 'not worldly' is not good, but to call them 'too worldly' is also not good. 'Worldly wisdom' seems like 'reform is necessary but not too much reform,'—it must be understood but not taken too far." The humor in "the book of worldly wisdom" lies in its precise grasp of the "balance" between "worldly wisdom" being "necessary but not taken too far," i.e., "moderation." In terms of life attitude, it is to see through life without clinging to unrealistic fantasies, yet to be proactive and earnest, preserving an innocent heart. Beneath the mocking tone of "playful indifference" lies a touch of indignation and determination, creating a rich flavor in this modern "book of worldly wisdom," and this is also why it is so enduring. Reading such prose, no matter how sharp the author's satire or how witty their humor, you can still touch that passionate heart and feel that earnestness, which also constitutes the "personality" of Chinese intellectuals and literature in this century.