OTHER PARTS

The division between myth and literature is again somewhat artificial for myths were often also popular stories, and the two intermixed. This will be noted in the text where necessary. The major texts considered in this section are popular titles from the Song and later, but I will begin with a very brief consideration of classical poetry from throughout Chinese history.

Sociological and political topics of greatest use to this work (and particularly love and passion) are generally excluded from the classical literature, but there were exceptions, particularly in the Tang era and after the Mongol conquest. This seems to have been particularly the case in poetry directed towards a female readership. Often we find love and passion was between husband and wife. Poet Han Yu (768-824) uses the simile "as intimate as man and wife". But even better evidence is in the poetry of Kuan Tao-sheng, who was almost as famous as her husband, Chao Meng-fu, described as the most prominent scholar-artist of his age (late 1200s to early 1300s). She writes of a quarrel with her husband: "Between you and me, There is far too much emotion, And that causes our red-hot quarrels."

Women in the classical poetry are not infrequently portrayed as influencing the decisions of kings and ministers. Lu T'ung (d 835) writes in an elaborate allegorical poem about the dismissal of a minster that "Heaven, just like man, can lose its sight by lusting after beauty". This is interpreted as the Emperor being misled by a favorite concubine. Tang poet Li Shang-yin (812?-858) refers to the story of Yang Kuei-fei, the concubine of Emperor Ming-huang (713-55). He was forced to execute her by his own troops, who felt through her, the Yang family had too great an influence. Moving then to the popular work on which this section of the essay is concentrating, I will consider first Outlaws of the Marsh. This is an immensely popular, mammoth work very much in the popular storytelling tradition. What is most surprising in this text to the Western reader brought up with the traditional Confucian ideal of Chinese womanhood are the female warriors.

Three of these warriors were in the terminology of the book "chieftains", part of the 108 central characters in the book. Certainly these warriors are not the most important characters, but neither are they minor actors. They are married to warriors, but then a large number of the characters in the book are married to women who share their outlaw life, if not the actual fighting. And the three each command their own contingent of female fighters.

Their warrior status is neither remarked upon nor seemingly regarded as odd. They appear in their turn to do battle and vanquish enemies, as in the passage quoted in the appendix. I have quoted this passage at length for it illustrates the totally matter-of-fact way in which the novel deals with the female warriors. This passage is no different to hundreds of other accounts of combat in the novel - the female fighter is treated no differently to the male. They operate under cover when necessary and two of the female chieftains share the fate of most of their male compatriots, being killed in battle. No special comment is made about this. Also notable is the fact that the supernatural force behind the entire massive work is the Taoist Mystic Queen of Ninth Heaven, whose warlike role in other settings has already been mentioned. She provides the chieftains' leader Song Jiang with both military and magical advice and power to win battles.

Similar female fighters are found in Flowers in the Mirror, a work which is particularly sympathetic towards women, within a Confucian framework. There is Red Lotus, who avenges her mother by killing tigers and Purple Cherry who hunts wild beasts to support her family. There's also a Taoist nun who rescues the central characters by engaging in a prodigious drinking bout.

A favorite myth, variously attributed to several different eras, is that of Hua Mu-lan, who took a conscript's place in the army for her father, who was ill and old. She fought bravely and well for 12 years, while maintaining the secret of her sex, and her chastity. When the fighting was over she returned to her family home, and the traditional female role. Fulfilling a role in a moral tale about a braggart brought down to size by a woman who kills a tiger with her bare hands and breaks rocks at a touch. eventually the braggart concludes "it's a good thing I didn't come to blows with her ... that would have been the end of me". The bravery and tactical savvy is not restricted to physical battles.In The Outlaws of the Marsh the wife of the commander of an encircled garrison provides the plan which allows her husband, who previously just stood around and metaphorically wrung his hands, to change sides and win the emperor's favour.

There are also many examples in the literature of women displaying political skills. Thus a mere maidservant manages to posthumously resurrect the political fortunes of her one-time master in "The Faithful Handmaid". Qin Shi Huang outwits the emperor by making him build a fine tomb and even wear mourning for her husband who dies working on the Great Wall.

Learned women also appear frequently in these works. In Flowers in the Mirror one of the central characters is Little Hill, the comments for whom might equally be applied to a beloved son: "At four or five years of age, she was already an accomplished reader, and retained the meaning of whatever she read after reading it only once ... became, before she was very old, well-versed in the classics and thoroughly at home in literary matters... she had an adventurous spirit and loved to play with spears and lances, and did so although her parents did not encourage it".

The desire for a wife with at least reasonable learning seems according to this literature to be the norm among equally educated men. Thus even the hero of the erotic novel The Before Midnight Scholar wants a wife "not only beautiful, but intelligent and well educated as well". In one popular tale even a beggar chief's daughter is well educated. The narrator tells us the chief "prized his daughter above jewels. He had her taught to read while yet a child and at fifteen or sixteen she could write poems in various metres or dash off impromptu verses".

Flowers in the Mirror comments on the wastage of women's abilities in a section during which the empress proclaims exams mirroring male scholars' to select the most learned young women in China. The empresses decree reads in part: "Although men may be as brilliant as jade, women are no less so. In my search for people to help me with the affairs of the nation, a ministry is given to fine men of learning and ability. But so far, the source of talented women has not been explored." The women who pass the exams, together with their husbands and brothers, eventually overthrow the empress and restore the rightful emperor.

As Ching Chung has demonstrated such exams and official positions for women did exist, at least in the period from and including the Sung to the Ming. Yet until this work to the most of my reading these had received no mention in English-language publications, although the material obviously existed in imperial Chinese works.

There is other evidence that female literacy may have been far more widespread than commonly supposed, notably in the Lives of the Nuns, a collection of biographies edited in 516AD. The nuns of course were not typical, but at least 80 per cent of them were highly literate. Secular history from a similar period indicates at least 40 of 260 individuals were literate, although the number was probably higher since biographers often did not bother to include this fact. Another good source in this regard is the Six Records Of A Floating Life, a primarily autobiographical work of a poor scholar born late in the eighteenth century already mentioned. His wife is able to discuss poetry of various eras and Shen Fu boasts of her increasing ability to engage in debate and discussion. Similarly of their daughter, Shen Fu boasts that at age 14 "she could read and write well and was also very capable, so fortunately we could rely on her help in pawning hairpins and clothes". All in all we are finding evidence that the desire for female learning which is clear in the fictional text most likely had considerable correspondence with contemporary reality.

Most of these semi-popular and popular works display sympathy for the position of women and reject or pour scorn on the neo-Confucian orthodoxy of their time. This is very evident in Flowers in the Mirror, described by one translator as "a social commentary and a human satire ... also an historical romance fairy tale, an allegory". In a format much like Swift's Gulliver's Travels, its main characters travel through many imaginary lands, one being the Country of Women, where "the men wear the skirts and take care of the home, while the women wear hats and trousers and manage affairs outside". The male travellers are shocked and surprise to be treated like women and one is kidnapped by the "king" (a woman), footbound, made-up and subjected to various other indignities. There's no doubt at all the narrator's sympathies lie with the women who suffer such treatment regularly.

Flowers on the Mirror also contains a scathing satire on what we might now describe as the sexual double standard. A bandit's wife has her husband beaten when he tries to take a concubine, screaming at him: "why has the idea of taking concubines been on your mind constantly? Would you like it if I took a gigolo, and cast you aside? In times of poverty you men sometimes know what is right and what is wrong. But when you get rich, you not only forget your old friends and relatives, but even the wife who struggled with you in your hard days!"

There seems to be an expectation that women will be able to engage in illicit affairs or adultery. This even dates back to the ancient Shih Ching or Book of Poetry dating from around 100 to 570BC, which includes examples of women running away from their lovers. In the ancient odes women not only run away, they are sometimes portrayed as the sexual aggressors.

But its even stronger in the later literature on which we are concentrating, with the overall belief underlying these tales being that of the narrator of Chin Ping Mei, "when a woman in love means to have her way no wall is too high for her - she will reach her goal in spite of it". Among the many examples which could be chosen there's the famous and oft-told tale of Cui Yingying, supposed to have been born in 784. At age 16 she is supposed to have taken the initiative and seduced Master Zhang. In the many versions of her story she has been sometimes treated sympathetically and sometimes not, but there's very little surprise at the action. From the realms of mythology there's Princess Anpo, daughter of a dragon, who actively arranges her marriage to the son of her nursemaid (hardly a traditional match).

In the later popular literature on which this essay has concentrated there are plenty of similar examples. Another sexually aggressive fictional woman is Xuixui, who forcibly seduces the jade worker Cui. As is common this is a moral tale and she comes to a sticky end, but even as a ghost she proves stronger and smarter than her husband. In the famous Chin Ping Mei while the men, mainly Hsi Men, are normally the sexual aggressors, the women seldom take much persuading. And Gold Lotus is an active aggressor in seducing a "gardener's boy" breaking not only sexual mores but also class barriers.

Another interesting example is a play, The Romance of the Western Bower. It has been interpreted by modern Chinese writers as a savage attack on the "feudal" system of arranged marriage. This is perhaps extreme, but there's no doubt the sympathy of the playwright rests with the two young lovers Zhang Gong and Oriole and she is very much an active player in encouraging his love and scheming for its success. This is very much against what are portrayed as the neo-Confucian norms.

In many of the popular tales there is no doubt that women are able to access and frequent the public world of the street, temple and other places where they can make contact with and often flirt with strangers. Thus in Chiing tale of "Perseverance rewarded" we hear about the spring festival "when it was customary for both men and women to be seen abroad" at which is seen "a (respectable) young lady resting herself under a tree with a throng of young fellows crowding around her".

There are also examples of women remarrying or being less than chaste widows. In myth there is also the rather quaint tale of Chuang Sheng, who came upon a newly-widowed wife fanning on husband's grave. On asking why she replied "I am doing this because my husband begged me to wait until the earth on his tomb was dry before I remarried." Later tales pick up this story and tell others, such as the Chiing tale of the "faithless widow" who "rather than remain faithful to his memory ... selling off all the property, pocketed the proceeds and married another man, leaving her two children in almost a state of destitution with their aunt".

Husbands in these popular tales are not infrequently afraid of their wives, with the women ruling not only the household but also their spouse. Thus Liu in `The tattered felt hat' schemes to get his wife to agree to his daughter's marriage. The narrator tells us "Liu, who was afraid of his wife, had long wanted Song Jin for his son-in-law but feared Mrs Liu might not agree".

Also obvious in the literature is strong praise not only for daughters who obey their parents but also for sons who obey parents, or simply their widowed mother. Thus in the popular story ``The honest clerk'', the narrator says "since Zhang Sheng was a respectable young man, who had always deferred to his mother, he took her advice". Even the stupid and aggressive Wang Chen in "The foxes' revenge" stops a red-hot pursuit following a request from his mother.