Shi Jimei's Novel Fengyi Garden

Author: [Shi Jimei]
Publisher:
Publishing Time:
Features: Preface by Ke Ling
The feudal patriarchal system in China, with its profound and enduring influence, has almost spanned the entirety of the nation's history. Among its most significant aspects is the history of women's suffering. Despite this, the impartial Muse has not overlooked the plight of women. Even under the immense weight of harsh fate, she has not stifled women's brilliant literary talents. A mere handful of names—Cai Yan, Li Qingzhao, Zhu Shuzhen, and Chen Duanrong—are sufficient to illustrate this point. Empress Wu Zetian was an empress, not a writer, yet she possessed a strong literary inclination. From the fierce and incisive invectives penned by her political adversaries, one could discern a literary elegance beneath the sharp rhetoric, recognizing that the court's failure to employ such talent was a grave oversight. Among the ruling classes of ancient and modern times, few have demonstrated such magnanimity—Wu Zetian stands almost alone in this regard.
The true formation of the world of female literature occurred during the May Fourth New Culture Movement. With unwavering resolve, it abandoned the refined and time-honored classical Chinese, which was widely regarded as the epitome of perfection, in favor of the vernacular language of ordinary people to serve as a tool for literature—a refined cultural and social revolution. Whether such a radical approach to classical Chinese was necessary is a separate debate, one we set aside here, as this revolution was far too significant to be considered merely a part of China's modernization process. Those who initiated and participated in this enlightenment movement deserve to be called prophets, pioneers, and warriors, with many of them being women—such as Chen Hengzhe, Xie Bingxin, Ling Shuhua, Feng Yuanjun, Huang Luyin, and Su Xuelin, among others—who stood at the forefront of this advanced movement.
The vernacular literature movement emerged on the ancient Chinese mainland, yet its gestation period extended across the ocean. At that time, Hu Shi, studying in the United States, rose in rebellion, advocating for vernacular literature, but faced opposition from his peers, leaving him feeling isolated. The only one who showed sympathy was a female student, whom Hu Shi called his "earliest comrade"—Chen Hengzhe. She wrote a vernacular literary essay titled A Day, published in the Journal of European and American Students in 1917, a work that preceded Lu Xun's Diary of a Madman, the widely recognized cornerstone of modern Chinese fiction, by a full year.
Perhaps we might turn back the calendar by a decade to recall the heroic sacrifice of the female revolutionary Qiu Jin in 1907. She was a striking beauty, both a poet and a woman of remarkable spirit. Her verses often arose from fleeting inspiration rather than the meticulous labor of a lifetime, yet her vernacular essay A Letter to My Sisters was a political declaration, written with such fluid grace and eloquence that certain passages could be considered mature vernacular prose of exceptional beauty.
From 1917 to 1949, the post-May Fourth era became the natural maturation of the new literature, reaching the age of thirty and fully grown. The world of female literature and the new literature grew inextricably, side by side, and had by then blossomed into its full form. Literature reflects the personality, individuality, and soul of its author, and female literature, in particular, carries its own distinct characteristics. Broadly speaking, by chronological order, the first generation, including Chen Hengzhe, Xie Bingxin, and Ling Shuhua, as well as the later Lin Huiyin (though she left behind few works), were largely born into scholarly or official families, some of whom remained loyalists to the late Qing dynasty, while others studied abroad, immersed in European and American cultures. They were often versatile, combining literary talent with scholarly pursuits, their styles refined and delicate, inheriting the legacy of classical courtesan poetry while embodying the spirit of the May Fourth era.
The second generation, comprising Ding Ling, Shi Pingmei, Bai Wei, Chen Ying, Xie Bingying, Yang Gang, Xiao Hong, Luo Shu, Cao Ming, Zhao Qingge, and Luo Hong, lived through turbulent times, their sleeves stained with hardship and their pens often reflecting their anxieties. Some directly joined the leftist movement, dedicating themselves to ideals.
The third generation emerged amid the flames of the Anti-Japanese War, under circumstances quite unique. In occupied Shanghai, various clusters of female writers flourished, each leaving their mark. Yang Jiang, upon returning from overseas, secluded herself on the "island" of Shanghai, where her two fresh and elegant comedies marked her debut as a masterful writer. Zhang Ailing, with her extraordinary talent, created a legion of admirers known as "Zhang fans," a devotion that continues to this day. Su Qing playfully rearranged the punctuation of the phrase "Food, drink, and sex are man's greatest desires," altering it to "Food and drink: women's greatest desires," a twist that caused a sensation at the time. She also expressed her reflections on women's independent lives: "I think about it—my home, even a single nail, was earned through my own labor. But what is the point?" (approximately). This illustrates her style. Among the "female writers of Wu Province," Shi Jimei stands out. In occupied Beijing, the renowned Mei Ling emerged, once paired with Zhang Ailing in the saying "Southern Ling, Northern Mei."
As time passed and generations changed, the brilliance of the May Fourth era, the whirlwind of the leftist movement, and the bloodshed of the Anti-Japanese War all faded into history, while the literary world continued its timeless journey. The radiance of female literature's finest moments, like rain after a storm and a rainbow spanning the sky, remains vividly in memory. The proverb "Fair women meet with misfortune" holds true for ancient female scholars, none of whom escaped a harsh fate. Modern female scholars fare little better. Hardship in life, failed marriages, abundant talent, and a short life—these are but ordinary tragedies of society, revealing that the utopian ideal remains distant. "Even Liu Lang lamented the distant mountain of Pengshan, yet it is separated by an even greater distance."
Unfortunately, some poured their hearts into revolution but were blacklisted and exiled to remote regions, returning only to find themselves a century apart in time. Others perished under unclear circumstances, unlike Qiu Jin of the feudal era, who lived with dignity and died heroically, her life and death as poetic and stirring as the Odes and Elegies. Chen Xuezhao, famous in the 1920s, traveled along the Seine and the Yellow River but was later branded a "rightist" in her old age. Guan Lu, a leftist poet of the 1930s, was sent into enemy-occupied territory during the war, becoming a Trojan horse in a perilous position. Misunderstood by the outside world, she was labeled a traitor, her reputation ruined. After the war, she not only achieved nothing but was even suspected of wrongdoing, leading to a difficult later life. Mei Ling endured immense suffering, finding respite only in her white hair. Shi Jimei, though virtuous, could not escape the calamities of the Cultural Revolution.
If contemporary scholars, with impartial hearts and the vigor of historians, were to write a History of Modern Female Literature, weaving literary achievements with personal stories and historical context, the result would undoubtedly be a work of great depth and resonance. Encouragingly, modern Chinese female literature has flourished like spring grass, spreading green across the globe. Not only have outstanding female writers, poets, and scholars emerged on the mainland, Hong Kong, and Taiwan, but their influence now spans the world. Their perspectives, sensibilities, life experiences, and the air they breathe are all new. They have avoided the historical paths of their predecessors, stepping directly into a new era.
Our predecessors in the world of female literature once cleared the wilderness, planting seeds with perseverance, now like jade trees swaying in the wind, at least reaching the age of grandmotherhood. The old have passed, and only a few remain. Among the May Fourth elders, only Xie Bingxin survives. The of the first generation, like the pine on the mountain, having weathered snow and frost, stands taller with its noble spirit. Su Xuelin, now in her centenary in Taiwan, has recently published her autobiography in mainland China.
Let us offer our deepest blessings to them and express our gratitude and respect to those who have contributed to and sacrificed for female literature.
August 16, 1997
This book includes Shi Jimei's works such as The Sighs of the Third Daughter, The Ghost Month, Tragedy and Comedy, Three Years, The Twelve Beauties, and The Phoenix Garden.