Illustration by Qu Lan (https://qu-lan.com) for 《两个月亮》(Zhejiang: Zhejiang People's Fine Arts publishing house 浙江人民美术出版社, 2018). Reproduced with permission granted by artist. 

那榆荫下的一潭,

不是清泉,是天上虹;

揉碎在浮藻间,

沉淀着彩虹似的梦。

徐志摩,选自《再别康桥》

That pool in the shade of elm trees

holds not clear spring water, but a rainbow

crumpled in the midst of duckweeds,

where rainbow-like dreams settle.

Xu Zhimo, Selection from “Taking Leave from Cambridge Again”Pagnamenta, Peter. The University of Cambridge: an 800th Anniversary Portrait. Third Millenium, 2008.

Rainbows. Dreams. Mist. With one verse alone, Xu successfully weaves an ethereal world where dreams and desire flourish in his poem “Taking Leave from Cambridge Again.” In the eyes of a poet, an ordinary pool filled with duckweeds can easily transform into an alluring rainbow which harbours our wildest desires. Perhaps such is the power of literature—it is the power to use simple language to envision another reality and transform our mundane reality into a radically exciting one. Yet, this ability to imagine—to dream—is often considered excessive in modern society, where everything is mostly governed by utilitarian metrics. In a world where success is measured by efficiency and productivity, what value can literature hold? It seems to embody the exact opposite: it is subjective (god forbid), occasionally abstract (how unfortunate) and often idealistic (yikes!). 

Granted, there are literary movements such as the Modernist period which focus on examining the “disillusionment and fragmentation” of human existence.Kuiper, K. (n.d.). Modernism. Retrieved December 27, 2020, from https://www.britannica.com/art/Modernism-art. However, when I speak of idealism in literature, I am referring to the artistic vision which often seems to drive the literary piece. From my experience, many literary works often offer a piercing social critique—whether we agree with them or not is another issue—and compel us to understand the social problems which currently plague us. As author Suchen Christine Lim succinctly puts it: 

To express the unexpressed … this has always been one of literature’s many contributions … No other school subject [like literature] focuses on the individual or the marginalized in the way literature does. This, in itself, is a moral force in which numbers count, and wealth, power and intellect dominate.

The value of literature lies in its discretion. Literature, or more generally, the written word, possesses the rare ability to convey complexity. More importantly, it teaches us to dream and cultivate the capacity to look beyond the flat surfaces of law, customs, and political strife. If our world is mainly defined by the tangible edges of pragmatism and regulation, life would be akin to living in a gnarled iron cage. For life to be meaningful, we must learn to develop the ability to examine our lives and the society we live in so that we can perhaps form a coherent picture of our existence. However, if what results is incoherence, then such an undesirable picture might have uncovered hidden, repressed social faults which must necessarily be confronted. This capacity to effectively critique and examine social issues is also the reason why literature is an irreplaceable asset in all cultures. 

To better exemplify the social value of literature, let us consider the Chinese poet Xu Zhimo, whose poem I quoted in the beginning. Xu was a modernist poet who graduated from Cambridge University. His studies at Cambridge exposed him to British romanticism and thereafter strongly influenced his literary style. Upon his return to China in 1922, Xu became a literature and law professor, an essayist and eventually an editor for Xinyue, otherwise known as “Crescent Moon.”Xu Zhimo. (2020, November 15). Retrieved December 27, 2020, from https://www.britannica.com/biography/Xu-Zhimo. The publication was known for promoting Western literature and liberal ideas as a reaction towards a struggling Chinese society. Xu and his literary counterparts then felt that Confucian values and Chinese traditions were outdated and the reason behind China’s geopolitical weakness.Li Zhimin, The One-Way Model of Cultural Interaction: Literary Interactions between China and Cambridge, The Cambridge Quarterly, Volume 41, Issue 1, March 2012, Pages 111–127, https://doi.org/10.1093/camqtly/bfr046. (Beyond his official achievements, Xu was also (in)famous for his multiple love affairs—one of them arguably led to a divorce.)Goodman, E. (2017, November 17). The Great Romantic Xu Zhimo. Retrieved December 27, 2020, from https://u.osu.edu/mclc/2017/11/17/the-great-romantic-xu-zhimo/.

Xu Zhimo - Wikipedia
Photo from Wikimedia.

Whereas traditional Chinese art and literature of the time heavily emphasized collective values by presenting the self and society to have “visual and philosophical harmony,” Xu rebelled against this tradition by embracing British romanticism and its emphasis on self-expression. He was greatly “concerned with national consciousness and individual self-expression in a nation that subsumed their individual voices” because of Confucian norms.Laurence, P. (2013). Lily Briscoe’s Chinese Eyes Bloomsbury, Modernism, and China. University of South Carolina Press.

Literature, or more specifically, romanticism then became an effective medium which could precisely criticise the faults of Chinese society while embodying aesthetic grace. The strength of romanticism stems from its emphasis on a “poet’s own subjectivity at its most idiosyncratic or experimental” to convey her ideas.An Introduction to British Romanticism. (n.d.). Retrieved December 27, 2020, from https://www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/152982/an-introduction-to-british-romanticism. The individuality which romanticism encourages grants an individual the freedom to depart from artistic conventions (which may arguably be influenced by social norms) and freely express her ideas. 

This intense desire for self-expression strongly differs from the literary goals of classical Chinese poetry which tend to gravitate towards self-erasure, appreciating nature and “love for family and nation.” Literature professor Zhang Xiangrong claims that “there is an abundance of Chinese poems on homesickness and patriotism.” 

Perhaps such themes often arise because poems in traditional Chinese culture are regarded as “an unbiased record of the changing sentiments of Chinese descendants”—it expresses the longings of Chinese poets and their desire for “innocence,” which is defined as “a display of true temperament, well-manifested in its emphasis on nature, family, and action.”Zhang, X. (2018, January 3). Ancient Chinese poetry: Source of aesthetic genes, cultural confidence. Retrieved December 27, 2020, from http://www.csstoday.com/Item/5304.aspx. In other words, at that time, the state and the family unit profoundly shaped one’s identity, and the lack of harmony which resulted due to migration, wars, and travels manifested into tangible poems which wished otherwise; the social and individual were almost inseparable.

Such themes of loss, separation and longing for one’s family are perfectly encapsulated in this short classical poem “Recalling My Brothers on a Moonlit Night” by Du Fu, a Tang dynasty poet:

戍鼓断人行,边秋一雁声。

露从今夜白,月是故乡明。

有弟皆分散,无家问死生。

寄书长不达,况乃未休兵。

杜甫,《月夜忆舍弟》

The garrison drums stop people traveling,

fall on the frontier, the sound of one wild goose.

The dew will be white from this night on,

the moon is as bright as at home.

I have brothers, but all are scattered,

I have no family to ask if they still live.

I send letters but they never arrive,

even more as warfare has not ceased.

Du Fu, “Recalling My Brothers on a Moonlit Night”Owen, Stephen. The Poetry of Du Fu. Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co KG, 2015.

Beyond prioritising the social collective, the decreased emphasis on the self in classical Chinese art also arose because of Taoism, which focused more on nature instead. Artists influenced by Taoism thought that for life to be meaningful, it was necessary to harmonise with nature. Being one with nature would also allow one to transcend; he would be “completely at ease with his own nature and the natural order of things.” This increased artistic emphasis on the harmony between man and nature also created a “pastoral paradigm in classical Chinese poetry” and caused natural imagery to be a mainstay.Zhang, X. (2018, January 3). Ancient Chinese poetry: Source of aesthetic genes, cultural confidence. Retrieved December 27, 2020, from http://www.csstoday.com/Item/5304.aspx.

An example of a traditional Chinese landscape painting: Spring Dawn over the Elixir Palace by Lu Guang. Photo from The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

It is no wonder then that classical Chinese poetry strives to achieve the “visual and philosophical harmony” which Laurence mentions. It is not only an aesthetic decision but also a sociopolitical one—imbued within the desire for harmony between man and nature, man and society is a subtle reinforcement of social norms that emphasises social and family unity. (After all, in Chinese culture, the Emperor is termed the Son of Heaven—it is entirely possible to argue that obeying the Emperor is part of the natural order.)

Unsurprisingly, such an artistic vision is radically different from that of romanticism, which is strongly individualistic. In Britain, Romanticism “was not a single unified movement,” but they all arose out of similar contexts such as revolutions in the United States and France, the Industrial Revolution, “the voicing of radical ideas,” and more. These exciting times were clearly a source of great artistic inspiration, as it allowed poets to transform “incidents and situations from common life” into extraordinary ones through unbridled self-expression. Amidst the kerfuffle, romanticism created a space for poets to voice their troubled thoughts:

 [They no longer produced] artistic works that merely … reflected nature faithfully; instead, they fashioned poems that served as lamps illuminating truths through self-expression, casting the poets’ subjective, even impressionistic, experiences onto the world.An Introduction to British Romanticism. (n.d.). Retrieved December 27, 2020, from https://www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/152982/an-introduction-to-british-romanticism.

When compared closely, it is no wonder that Xu resonated greatly with the artistic vision of romanticism and chose it as a medium for social critique. In many ways, romanticism’s focus on nature complemented the aesthetics of classical Chinese poetry. The largest difference for Romantic literature is its capacity for the bizarre and obscene. Precisely because authors hold complete control over their artistic expression can they then delve into the darker realms of the human imagination—such a connection is evident when we see how Gothic works are closely related to Romantic works.Hume, R. D. (n.d.). Gothic Versus Romantic: A Revaluation of the Gothic Novel. Retrieved January 07, 2021, from http://knarf.english.upenn.edu/Articles/hume.html. The nightmarish scenes in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein are a consequence of her re-imagination of the Romantic hero, Victor Frankenstein, whose extraordinary intellect stunningly belies emotional apathy, narcissism, and cruelty. Evidently, for Xu, romanticism’s ability to confront humanity’s darkness made it a suitable medium to challenge classical Chinese poetry and its accompanying social values.

In Xu’s prose poem “Venom,” the harmonious balance in society and nature is thrown into chaos. Instead of the serenity encouraged by traditional Chinese aesthetics, we are introduced to a world filled with despair and corruption:

在人道恶浊的涧水里流着,浮荇似的,五具残缺的尸体,它们是仁义礼智信,向着时间无尽的海澜里流去;

这海是一个不安静的海,波涛猖獗的翻着,在每个浪头的小白帽上分明的写着人欲与兽性;

徐志摩,选自《毒药》

In the corrupted river of humanity flow, like floating water poppies, five deformed corpses. They are benevolence, righteousness, ritual propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness,[mfn]These are the Five Constants, or five central virtues, of Confucianism.[/mfn] streaming towards an eternal sea.

This is not a calm sea, it roils with rampant, thrashing waves. On the little white caps topping each wave, human desire and bestial nature are clearly written.

Xu Zhimo, Selection from “Venom”Translation by Lim Yi Jun and Wang Xing Hao.

With vivid imagery and metaphor, Xu poetically conveys his growing concerns about an increasingly corrupted Chinese society. Art can no longer embody perfection but is instead reduced to the gritty details of a dismal reality. We are now forced to confront a terrifyingly immoral world where traditional social norms are defective: “men no longer weep for their newly deceased mothers” and the streets are riddled with “defiled virgins” whose consciousness have been tainted. Even nature is in shambles—the ponds are littered with “bright, broken lotuses.”Translation by Lim Yi Jun and Wang Xing Hao.

The flexibility in Romantic poetry is boundless precisely because it is highly impressionistic and dependent on the poet. For Xu, an ailing Chinese society is not only manifested through grotesque descriptions of the mundane but through quiet, dignified moments:

我是在病中,这恹恹的倦卧,

看窗外云天,听木叶在风中……

是鸟语吗?院中有阳光暖和,

一地的衰草,墙上爬着藤萝,

徐志摩,选自《在病中》

I am in the midst of illness, lying weary and lethargic,

and I see the clouds beyond the window and hear the stirring leaves

Are the birds speaking? The courtyard basks in sunlight,

withered grass covers the earth and the vines creep up the wall.

Xu Zhimo, Selection from “In the Midst of Illness”Translation by Lim Yi Jun and Wang Xing Hao.

Despite such a wide variety of scenes that range from morbid to serene, every work holds a momentous significance in forming a profound social critique of modern China. Every work, every line, every word is akin to a small fragment which eventually converges with the rest to form a kaleidoscopic image of Xu’s impression of modern China and its faults. While we may not necessarily agree with his political worldview, we cannot deny that they are nonetheless valuable in allowing the reader to form an impression of Chinese society back then. Most importantly, these works ambitiously defied social conventions and shaped a new way of perceiving Chinese society.  

Poets such as Xu Zhimo teach us to appreciate the value of the written word for its own sake. Such things can rarely be measured tangibly, but this fact does not make them any less valuable. Instead, it does the exact opposite. In a world increasingly governed by utilitarian metrics such as productivity and efficiency, literature provides a safe refuge for individuals to mull over their thoughts, appreciate the unseen and discover hidden social truths. Reading and writing literature can be a profound emotional experience which clarifies and guides the soul. Perhaps it can even allow us to transcend—albeit not in the Taoist fashion—by forcing us to rethink our current lives and maybe even foster change. Life might be transient, but as shown in Xu’s poem “Chance,” even within this short span of time lies the capacity for either progress or erasure:

我是天空里的一片云,

偶尔投影在你的波心——

你不必讶异,

更无须欢喜——

在转瞬间消灭了踪影。

你我相逢在黑夜的海上,

你有你的,我有我的,方向;

你记得也好,

最好你忘掉,

在这交会时互放的光亮!

徐志摩,《偶然》

I am a cloud in the sky, 

A chance shadow on the wave of your heart. 

Don’t be surprised, 

Or too elated; 

In an instant I shall vanish without trace. 

We meet on the sea of dark night, 

You on your way, I on mine. 

Remember if you will, 

Or, better still, forget 

The light exchanged in this encounter.

Xu Zhimo, “Chance”Xu, Z. (2012). Poems by Xu Zhi Mo. Retrieved 2021, from https://www.poemhunter.com/i/ebooks/pdf/xu_zhimo_2012_8.pdf.
 

A rendition of Xu Zhimo’s “Chance” put to music.