Disclaimer: This post was originally written in Chinese and translated into English by GPT-5.2.
[Abstract] Qu Yuan is one of China’s most influential cultural celebrities. For more than 2,000 years, studies of Qu Yuan have been numerous, but research on his personality, for various reasons, has not been sufficiently satisfactory. This paper will take Qu Yuan’s intense sense of superiority and enormous sense of inferiority as an entry point, place Qu Yuan in the position of an individual person, put forward a brand-new view of Qu Yuan’s personality, and strive to make this view well-grounded and able to stand up to testing.
[Keywords] Qu Yuan sense of superiority sense of inferiority personality
Qu Yuan is one of the most influential cultural celebrities in China’s history, and also the only Chinese person selected as one of the world’s four great cultural celebrities announced in Helsinki in 1953, which shows that his prestige is unanimously recognized at home and abroad. For more than 2,000 years, interpretations of Qu Yuan’s writings, studies of his life, and discussions of his character have long been vast upon vast—another embodiment of his enormous influence. But this also means that when later scholars face the major topic of Qu Yuan, what they can do inevitably tends to be “repetitive construction” and the sorting of documents, with few new explorations and discoveries.1 In such circumstances, to achieve “new explorations and discoveries,” one must resort to new perspectives and new theories to conduct a new combing and excavation of old materials, bringing subtle meanings to light. This paper will attempt to use the pair of concepts of a sense of superiority and a sense of inferiority to analyze Qu Yuan’s personality—on the one hand, aiming to make some gains; on the other hand, hoping to provide a good restoration of Qu Yuan’s original personality.
The author believes that the so-called sense of superiority refers to a positive psychological suggestion that people are born with, arising from conscious or unconscious comparison with others. This comparison and suggestion will give people a kind of pleasure in towering over others, thereby obtaining a sense of legitimacy that sustains their own existence and every gesture and movement. Simply put, people need the support of a sense of superiority to live; conversely, people without the support of a sense of superiority do not live. The amount of superiority needed varies from person to person. Psychologist Adler holds that “everyone has varying degrees of inferiority feelings,” and that “since inferiority feelings always cause tension, compensatory actions to strive for superiority must inevitably appear at the same time,” in order to “improve his situation.”2 Whether one believes that a sense of superiority is innate or arises as a compensatory action for inferiority, one must acknowledge the following two facts: First, a sense of superiority indeed belongs to everyone. Second, a sense of superiority is a form of self-awareness.
Since a sense of superiority is not something Qu Yuan alone could exclusively possess, why use a sense of superiority—and the sense of inferiority in the next chapter—as the entry point for analyzing Qu Yuan’s personality? This is because the “biographical materials on Qu Yuan’s life” are in fact far too few: they are “mainly recorded in Sima Qian’s Records of the Grand Historian: Biographies of Qu Yuan and Jia Sheng and Liu Xiang’s New Preface: Men of Integrity, and besides that there is only some information revealed in Qu Yuan’s works.”3 Mr. Chen Yinke believed that historical research should “correct the bad habit of forced attachment, and possess the sympathetic understanding of comprehension,” and Confucius believed that one should “know his words and observe his actions.” Now the key problem is that Qu Yuan left too few deeds, leaving us unable to make a full comparison between words and actions, and thus it is hard to avoid committing the “bad habit” of “forced attachment.” Fortunately, Qu Yuan still has quite a few works (relatively speaking) passed down, and the genres of these works are all poetry—the Chu Ci. Through research on Heidegger’s philosophy, Zhang Zhuo believes that poetry is a means of expression that is “directly related to Being,” that “clarifies” “representation” and “returns to the Great Way,” “restoring the world.”4 Such an assessment gives us considerable confidence that, through in-depth analysis of Qu Yuan’s works, we can to a certain extent make up for the insufficiency of his deeds.
Qu Yuan’s works are suffused with his intensely personal emotions and possess obvious self-consciousness; whether his sense of superiority or his sense of inferiority, both are extremely strong. Taking the “Li Sao” as an example, we can find: “Taken together, the first-person pronouns ‘yu’ ‘wu’ ‘zhen’ ‘yu’ ‘wo’ ‘zi’ are used for self-reference a total of eighty-six times…… From beginning to (author’s note: should be ‘to’) end, the first-person self-reference is the main axis running throughout, linked from start to finish, with an extremely clear thread.”5 From this we can basically consider that Qu Yuan’s works are Qu Yuan’s “window of spirit” or “eye of spirit.” Look into his pupils—how could he be hidden? Grasping Qu Yuan’s works is clearly of utmost importance. Here, the author will reveal the sources of Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority from two aspects—“external suggestion and self-identification”—thereby confirming the assertion that “Qu Yuan possessed a strong sense of superiority.”
Modern psychology holds that personality has individuality and sociality; among these, sociality refers to “personal traits that are similar to most people and are recognized and accepted by others.”6 Temperament is one of the foundations of forming personality, and temperament has the characteristic of “biological preparedness” or, in other words, heredity.7 That is to say, to describe a person’s personality traits using a sense of superiority, one must trace the social environment in which that person lived and his family background—precisely the scope covered by external suggestion.
The state of Chu was the social environment in which Qu Yuan grew up, and likewise the spiritual homeland to which he devoted life and death. From Qu Yuan’s works and deeds we can see that Qu Yuan had profound feelings for his native land. The Chu Ci, this new literary form written in Chu language and Chu sounds, is the most direct evidence. As for deeds, Sima Qian said of him: “Though in exile, he looked back longingly on Chu, tied his heart to King Huai, never forgetting his desire to return, hoping that the ruler might have one moment of awakening and that customs might be changed. His intention to preserve the ruler, revive the state, and desire to overturn matters—within one piece he expressed this aspiration three times.”8 This is a fine example. When interpreting “Li Sao” as “parting sorrow,” Qian Zhongshu offered an excellent discussion:
“Not hard is parting and separation,” is what the whole piece emphasizes three times; therefore the Luan “summarizing its essentials” says: “And what is there to cherish in the old capital!” “Suddenly I turn back and roam my gaze, about to go and look upon the four wilds”; “Crossing the Yuan and Xiang to go south on expedition, I go to Chonghua and present my words”; “With a team of jade-horned dragons and tall birds, suddenly riding the wind and I go upward on expedition”; “How can a heart that parts be the same? I shall go far away and distance myself”; “Holding my feelings but not letting them forth, how can I bear to end with this forever”; “Sao” and wishing to “li” (depart) it is. “Turning my carriage back to the return road, while my wandering has not gone far”; “My driver grieves and my horses yearn, curling and looking back and not going”; “Sao” and wishing to “li” (depart) yet cannot. Cast aside yet again clinging, unable to bear yet also cannot bear, wishing to go yet staying, hard to stay yet also not easy to go. Even if the body leaves the old capital and goes, while one breath still remains, where can this heart be placed? Rivers and lakes, palace towers, lamenting Ying and embracing sand—“Sao” in the end has not “departed,” and where can sorrow avoid?
In fact, the intent of the term “Li Sao” perhaps is, as Qian Zhongshu later called it, “poetry’s emptiness containing two meanings,” simultaneously having the related pair of meanings “suffering sorrow” and “parting sorrow,” portraying the poet’s psychology with extreme delicacy.9
Qu Yuan’s “plaintive and lingering” feelings for his native land have their source. “Though Chu has but three households, it will be Chu that must destroy Qin,”10 in one phrase reveals the national cohesion of the Chu people. King Huai of Chu, though a ruler of one state, became a prisoner of Qin, yet never sold his country to survive, and in the end died suddenly in a foreign land. More than a hundred years after Chu was destroyed, the commoner Liu Bang founded the Han dynasty, but he still did not forget Chu sounds, singing loudly the song “The great wind rises, clouds fly; my might covers all within the seas, returning to my native place; where can I gain brave men to guard the four directions,” his feeling of being bound to his “native place” is imaginable. Qu Yuan grew up in Chu lands; influenced by what he saw and heard, and with residence changing one’s temperament, his feelings for Chu as his native land were naturally engraved in his heart.
Behind feelings for one’s native land lies national pride, and national pride comes from Chu’s arduous yet glorious history of “founding” and “creating” the state. The first king of Chu was Xiong Yi; the Zuo Commentary records: “In the past our former king Xiong Yi opened up land in Jing Mountain, wearing coarse clothes and traveling with simple carts, to dwell amid wild grass. He trekked through mountains and forests to serve the Son of Heaven,”11 showing its hardship. After this, through a series of hard struggles, the Chu people continuously expanded their territory; in the Spring and Autumn period, their military equipment and methods of employing troops were “extremely complete, beyond comparison with the states of the Spring and Autumn.” Moreover, before Qu Yuan’s time, Chu’s ruling class can basically be said to have been diligent in governance. Rulers often took the lead in observing law and ritual, instructing the people, and appointed people solely by merit, daring to raise talents from commoners, and were diligent in reforms, so that many capable statesmen emerged in Chu’s history. Nearly seven hundred years after “founding the state,” “by the time of Qu Yuan… Chu had already become the largest state of the Warring States period.” “‘When horizontal, Qin is emperor; when vertical, Chu is king’ is the correct summary of the situation at that time.”12 Thus, with a strong motherland as backing, plus long-term cultivation by local culture and a long history, the Chu people’s national pride, like their feelings for their native land, almost transformed into blood and became genes—impossible to wipe away.
If feelings for the native land and national pride are the cultural confidence shared by the Chu people, then the historical sense of mission unique to Qu Yuan is cultural self-awareness. And this is inseparable from Qu Yuan’s family background.
Guo Weisen said: “The Qu clan were nobles of the same surname as the King of Chu, holding important posts generation after generation.” “The Qu clan produced quite a few outstanding talents.” “The Qu clan was a lineage with considerable cultural tradition.”13 Sima Qian said Qu Yuan “was widely learned and strong of purpose, understood governance and disorder, and was skilled in rhetoric. When in court he planned and discussed affairs with the king to issue orders; when out, he received guests and responded to the feudal lords. The king greatly trusted him.”14 This has a certain relation to Qu Yuan’s prominent family background. Nie Shiqiao believes that the reason Qu Yuan was valued mainly lay in Qu Yuan’s personal ability, because such conduct of appointing by merit was the fashion of the time and not uncommon. Moreover, “judging only from kinship, he and the King of Chu were already relatively distant,” and “his desolate and neglected circumstances in childhood” are clear proof.15 The author believes that, as Nie Shiqiao pointed out: “Chu politics also had a rotten and dark side; by Qu Yuan’s time this side further came to light, to the point that it completely destroyed the bright side.”16 Thus in Qu Yuan’s time, Chu’s tradition of appointing by merit seems also to have been “completely destroyed.” Stepping back, even if the facts were so, Qu Yuan’s personal ability was also deeply nurtured by his family background. Without this family background, it would be difficult for Qu Yuan to arise. Thus Qu Yuan, at the beginning of the “Li Sao,” proudly says:
I am descendant of Emperor Gaoyang; my august late father was called Boyong.
When Sheti stood firm in Mengzou, it was on gengyin that I descended.
The august one examined and measured my first birth; he then bestowed on me a fine name:
He named me Zhengze, and styled me Lingjun.17
As Du Daoming pointed out in “A Trial Discussion on the Inevitability of Qu Yuan’s Tragedy,” the reason Qu Yuan found it hard to leave his native place, subjectively, is because—
Here there is the sense of glory of being a descendant of Emperor Gaoyang, the sense of mission that ancestors and gods sent him into the world on an auspicious day, his father’s immense hopes, and his own lofty ambition to cultivate himself, regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to all under Heaven.18
The author believes that this sentence has roughly sketched out the sources of Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority. This kind of self-importance, this kind of sense of superiority, greatly has the bearing of Mencius’s boast: “If one desires to bring order to the world, in today’s age, if not me then who?”19 Mencius’s sense of superiority was based on the belief that “within five hundred years there must be a kingly one to arise,” and when it came to his time, he naturally thought “now is the time.” In the final analysis, this is a kind of Heaven’s mandate thinking. If we start from this angle, we will find that Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority is exactly so as well. The author cannot say it better than Guo Weisen, so I reproduce his original words as follows:
Qu Yuan was born in the yin year, yin month, and yin day; following the saying “a person is born in yin,” it accords with the birthday of “person.” Man is one of the three powers; taking the model of Heaven and Earth, “Heaven levels and Earth completes,” thus the name Ping and the style Yuan, with very rich meanings. The ancients placed man alongside Heaven and Earth, with the positive meaning of fully affirming human value; therefore Qu Yuan took himself as a person who receives inner beauty, thereby gaining many insights and encouragements……. The influence of this implication on Qu Yuan’s life values cannot be ignored.20
As an “aristocratic” intellectual and a “high-level” political participant, Qu Yuan’s historical sense of responsibility on the one hand was a direct inheritance from “former cultivators,” “former sages,” and “former worthies,” and on the other hand was a clear understanding of the reality of Chu’s increasing decline. Chu’s decline was embodied in a situation of internal and external troubles.
Internally, domestic politics were extremely dark:
The ruling class fought each other: “Not considering difficulties to plan for later, the five sons by their use lost the household lane.” (Li Sao)
“Sycophantic slander grows daily, the strong and resolute are extinguished”: “Thinking long of the close ones of old, I weep for them with white silk. Some are loyal and faithful and die keeping integrity; some are deceitful and arrogant yet do not doubt.” (Ai Xi Wang Ri)
Right and wrong inverted: “Changing black to take it as white, turning up to take it as down.” (Huai Sha)
The supreme ruler breaks his word: “At first he had already made a pact with me; later he repented, withdrew, and had other intentions.” (Li Sao)
Government and law are abnormal: “Only the factional men steal joy; the road is dark and perilous and narrow.” (same as above)
Externally, the King of Chu broke faith with Qi, was repeatedly deceived by Qin; Hanzhong land was seized by Qin, and in the war to recover lost territory he was repeatedly defeated by Qin. Most ironically, even the ruler of a state, King Huai of Chu, finally died miserably trapped in Qin.21
Though “a starved camel is still bigger than a horse,” the bloated appearance of Chu could not blind Qu Yuan’s clear eyes. Before Qu Yuan was exiled, this sense of mission made him—
How could I fear calamity to my own body? I fear the ruin of the royal carriage.
Suddenly I ran about front and back, keeping pace with those who went ahead.
I indeed know that being upright brings trouble, yet I endure and cannot abandon it.
Pointing to the nine heavens as witness, it is only for the sake of the spiritual lord. (All the above citations are from Li Sao)
To uphold the former merits and illuminate those below, to make clear the doubtful in laws and measures.
When the state is rich and strong and laws are established, it belongs to chaste ministers to be daily at ease. (Ai Xi Wang Ri)
After Qu Yuan was exiled, he still sought to “preserve the ruler and revive the state,” never forgetting for a day his ideal of “beautiful governance.” One can say his historical sense of responsibility ran through consistently. And this historical sense of responsibility is a strong sense of superiority based on feelings for the native land and expressed in the form of Heaven’s mandate thinking—a sense of superiority inseparable from external suggestion.
The author finds that, in the vast body of “Qu Yuan studies,” Qu Yuan is studied from the positions of a cultural monument and a moral benchmark. Leaving aside the cultural monument, in the area of moral benchmark, what later generations most admire about Qu Yuan is that he dared to spend a lifetime practicing his philosophy of conduct, even defending it with his life. From the moral level, the most praised aspects of Qu Yuan’s philosophy of conduct can be simply put as: First, he spent his life “preserving the ruler and reviving the state.” Second, he spent his life unwilling to associate with the vulgar multitude. On the one hand this reflects his pure and outstanding integrity; on the other hand it also shows how hard such integrity is to obtain. Of course, speaking in terms of “a lifetime” is inevitably exaggerated, blurring human nature and making it hard to see Qu Yuan’s true face; but if we use a sense of superiority to describe the high degree of consistency in Qu Yuan’s personality, then such exaggeration and blurring will be reduced. That is to say, without a powerful sense of superiority—consciously or even unconsciously—as a tremendous driving force, a high degree of consistency in Qu Yuan’s personality could not exist. Because a philosophy of conduct that can be upheld for “a lifetime,” if not regarded as a “positive psychological suggestion,” then a person’s existence and life would appear to have no thread and could not be established, so this hypothesis is tenable.
In the previous section, the author has already demonstrated the positive impact of external suggestion on Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority, and discussed the correlation between this impact and Qu Yuan’s thought (historical sense of mission, simply speaking “preserving the ruler and reviving the state”). The author said that a strong sense of superiority is a huge driving force in Qu Yuan’s way of conduct. But if the sources of the sense of superiority were only external suggestion, it obviously would not be “strong.” The author believes that external suggestion is only a sufficient condition for Qu Yuan to become Qu Yuan; only adding Qu Yuan’s repeated self-identification can it become a necessary condition and achieve the dialectical unity of internal and external causes—thereby producing Qu Yuan. This section is precisely based on Qu Yuan’s self-identification as an internal causal condition. Because self-identification is subjective, the discussion in this section is based on Qu Yuan’s personal works. Even for those pieces suspected of being forgeries, the author also considers them important materials for studying Qu Yuan’s thought, highly consistent with Qu Yuan’s thought, and thus boldly adopts them as well.
Qu Yuan’s works, viewed from the artistic level, are filled with the rich sentiments of Romanticism and Idealism. History of Chinese Literature says: “This romantic spirit is mainly manifested in the fervent and unrestrained outpouring of emotion, the pursuit of ideals, and the shaping of the lyrical protagonist’s image, the fantasy of imagination, etc…… creating one magnificent and grand scene after another.” All the images of literary works are the externalization of the author’s inner heart, with the purpose of conveying what is entrusted therein. Thus the book goes on to say that such “magnificent scenes” “make Qu Yuan’s self-image appear tall and holy, stirring to the heart.”22 The so-called “tall and holy, stirring to the heart,” put another way, is “transcendent and unworldly, vivid and spirited”—this is simply the best embodiment of Qu Yuan’s very high self-identification and very flourishing sense of superiority!
Taking “Li Sao” as an example, Qu Yuan depicts his image like this:
With four jade-horned dragons I yoked tall birds; suddenly, riding the dusty wind, I went upward on expedition.
I ordered Xihe to slow his pace……
Ahead I had Wangshu serve as先锋; behind Feilian ran as attendant.
Luanhuang went before to warn for me; the Thunder Master told me all was not yet prepared.
I ordered phoenix birds to fly and soar, following them day and night.
Whirlwind massed and separated from each other, leading cloud-rainbows to come and drive……
I ordered the Gatekeeper of Heaven to open the gate……
I ordered Fenglong to ride the clouds……
I ordered Jianxiu to serve as matchmaker……
I ordered the zhen bird to be go-between……
I commanded Lingfen to divine for me……
After Lingfen told me the auspicious divination……
He made for me a flying-dragon team, mixing yao and ivory to make a chariot……
Suddenly I traveled through this shifting sand, following Red Water and lingering.
I waved to the flood-dragons to make a bridge at the ford, and summoned the Western Emperor to ferry me.
The road is long and far and full of hardships; I drove the many chariots to wait by a shortcut……
I massed my chariots, a thousand teams, with jade car-bodies aligned, galloping side by side.
I drove eight dragons, supple and winding, bearing cloud banners trailing and curling.
I restrained my will and slowed my pace; my spirit sped high and far away.
I played the Nine Songs and danced the Shao, for the moment borrowing the day to steal some joy.
Jade-horned dragons, tall birds, phoenix birds, cloud-rainbows, flood-dragons, and other numinous beings, front and back, left and right, carry Qu Yuan, pull his chariot, and run errands; Xihe, Wangshu, Feilian, Luanhuang, the Thunder Master, and other gods, front and back, left and right, drive mounts for Qu Yuan, navigate, and open the way; the Gatekeeper of Heaven, Fenglong, Jianxiu, the zhen bird, Lingfen, the Western Emperor, and all sorts of figures, front and back, are “commanded” or “summoned” by Qu Yuan—yet Qu Yuan’s expression is lofty and far-reaching, accompanying the Nine Songs and the Shao dance, stealing leisure and enjoying himself. Although from heaven to earth, from seeking a woman to seeking divination, from “cherishing the old abode” to “I shall go,” Qu Yuan’s “seeking,” “floating,” and “wandering observation” are full of failure, depression, confusion, and even despair, still, is not his looking down from above, his very high self-regard, displayed to the fullest? Similar images are presented even more prominently and vividly in “Yuan You.” Such an image, in Qu Yuan’s words, is “to live as long as Heaven and Earth, to shine equal with sun and moon” (Nine Pieces: She Jiang). So is it not appropriate for us to use a sense of superiority to describe Qu Yuan? So is it not appropriate for us to say Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority is deeply rooted?
Then what is Qu Yuan’s sense of self-identification? In my view, it is that he possesses extremely high “inner beauty” and “cultivated ability,” and moreover that this inner beauty and cultivated ability are predetermined and “received by mandate.” The so-called inner beauty and cultivated ability, simply speaking, are the unity of virtue and talent. Virtue and talent have always been personal qualities valued by the Chinese ancients; since Qu Yuan believed himself to be both virtuous and talented, even supremely so, then his sense of superiority is extremely natural. This extreme naturalness, in his view, is simply Heaven’s will. Thus at the beginning of the “Li Sao” Qu Yuan proudly recounts his family lineage, and at the beginning of the “Ode to the Orange” he identifies himself as “receiving mandate, not to change.” As for Qu Yuan’s inner beauty and cultivated ability, in his discourse system it is often symbolized by a series of highly meaningful fragrant herbs. The principle is easy to understand and does not require detailed examples. This is an indirect method. More direct is to use a series of plain words to compare and metaphorize himself, such as: upright and steadfast, pure and white, stubbornly straight, learned and forthright and fond of self-cultivation, dignified and reverent, centered and upright, making beautiful governance (Li Sao); exhausting loyalty and sincerity to serve the ruler, putting the ruler before the self, serving the ruler without duplicity, acting not in a crowd and surpassing the ordinary, firm of will (Xi Song); I loved these strange garments when young; though years have grown old it does not fade, upright and straight (She Jiang); inwardly thick and substantively upright, pattern and substance… different hues, valuing benevolence and inheriting righteousness, holding substance and embracing purity (Huai Sha); standing alone to awaken the world, horizontal yet not flowing, closing the heart and being cautious, in the end not making errors, holding virtue without selfishness (Ode to the Orange), etc.
The above is from the positive side. From the negative side, Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority is also reflected in his moral criticism of the vulgar multitude. Because a sense of superiority arises from comparison, this should be supported with citations. Taking “Li Sao” as an example:
All the crowd compete to advance in greed, never satisfied in their seeking.
They forgive themselves inwardly to measure others; each stirs the heart and is jealous.
Suddenly they gallop and chase in pursuit; it is not what my heart urgently seeks……
The many women envy my moth-like brows, spreading rumors and slanders saying I am wanton……
Truly the current customs are skilled in craftiness, turning away from rules and changing measures.
They turn their backs on line and plumb to pursue crookedness, competing to take pliant accommodation as standard.
The world is muddy and turbid and does not distinguish, fond of covering beauty and being jealous……
The world is muddy and turbid and envies the worthy, fond of covering beauty and praising evil……
External suggestion and self-identification made Qu Yuan produce the pleasure of towering over others (the vulgar multitude). The sense of superiority under this pleasure is internalized into text and is visible at a glance in Qu Yuan’s works. In the branches of game theory there is a “institutional logic perspective” theory whose basic presupposition holds: “Institutional logic shapes individuals’ behavior (author’s note: including spiritual behavior, thinking), and individuals’ behavior in turn strengthens institutional logic.”23 Because people exist as basic units under a certain institution, behind this presupposition there is also a micro “individual logic perspective” theory as a foundation. We may as well express it as: “Individual logic directs individual behavior, and individual behavior in turn strengthens individual logic.” In this light, we can basically consider that the sense of superiority shaped by external suggestion (a priori existence) for Qu Yuan is the “individual logic” of his behavior. This sense of superiority promoted Qu Yuan’s self-identification based on virtue and talent (individual behavior), and in turn was continuously strengthened under this good self-identification, thus forming a benign two-way interaction. Thus it makes sense that Qu Yuan on the one hand issued the rational “Heavenly Questions,” and on the other hand was deeply influenced by Heaven’s mandate. Thus it is also expected that Qu Yuan had a strong sense of superiority.
As for the so-called sense of inferiority, the author pointed out at the beginning of the previous chapter: Adler believed that inferiority is innate in humans, while a sense of superiority appears as a “compensatory action.” The author does not deny the claim that inferiority is innate, just as the author believes that a sense of superiority is likewise innate, because these two feelings are both instincts of human nature—there is no question of before or after, and even no question of compensation. For so-called compensation is perhaps only a kind of feeling or spiritual illusion of humans; in the final analysis, it is merely a tactful expression of the mutually opposite yet mutually completing relationship between the two. But in any case, we can reach the following three consensuses: First, a sense of inferiority indeed belongs to everyone. Second, a sense of inferiority is a form of self-awareness. Third, a sense of superiority and a sense of inferiority are the two sides of one coin, forever irreconcilable; they are also different names for the same thing at different moments, like the relationship between chromosomes and chromatin in biology, sometimes able to transform into each other. Based on the third consensus, we can, by referring to the definition of a sense of superiority in the previous chapter, define a sense of inferiority as: the so-called sense of inferiority refers to a negative psychological suggestion that people are born with, arising from conscious or unconscious comparison with others. This comparison and suggestion are the product of one’s attempt to strive for superiority or improve one’s situation but failing to do so, thus making one produce an “unpleasant feeling” of being towered over by others, thereby producing a nihilistic feeling of unreasonableness about one’s own existence and every gesture and movement. Of course, such a definition may still not be sufficiently standardized and precise, so we might as well replace “unpleasant feeling” with “anxiety,” and revise “nihilistic feeling” about one’s existence…… to “doubt” about one’s existence……..
If what the author analyzed in the previous chapter regarding the sources of Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority is reasonable, then, referring to the above definition of a sense of inferiority, we can draw the following conclusion: Qu Yuan’s sense of inferiority is due to anxiety over being unable to realize “preserving the ruler and reviving the state” and doubt about self-identification.
The explanation of “preserving the ruler and reviving the state,” as many scholars have clarified, is: preserving the ruler is the means; reviving the state is the purpose, because Chu is the spiritual bond by which Qu Yuan sustains his sense of superiority, the spiritual homeland to which he devoted life and death. But ideals are full, reality is bony. Qu Yuan wanted to preserve the ruler and revive the state, but alas the ruler could not be preserved! The ruler’s being unpreservable made him at times “thinking of the beautiful one, lifting up tears and gazing” (Si Mei Ren), at times “lamenting that in former days I once trusted” (Ai Xi Wang Ri), at times complaining “formerly the ruler made a pact with me…… but midway he turned back and revolted” (Chou Si), at times not without resentment “Quan did not examine my inner feelings, instead believing slander and becoming angrily hostile” (Li Sao); all these are manifestations of anxiety. Whether the King of Chu was alive but separated or dead and parted, Qu Yuan could not reach him; instead, a group of slanderous flatterers surrounded the ruler—“trusted yet suspected, loyal yet slandered—how could one have no resentment?”24 This asymmetrical comparison with the slanderers would naturally further deepen Qu Yuan’s anxiety. When studying “transactional analysis psychotherapy,” Eric Berne pointed out:
Adults, like children, also need just as much physical contact; only because this is difficult to achieve do we have no choice but to compromise, having to seek from others similar symbolic emotional “strokes” to replace physical contact.25
This is very clear. Qu Yuan said of himself that he “lamented and recited to bring forth compassion, and vented indignation to express emotion” (Xi Song), and Sima Qian said he “wrote the Li Sao out of worry and gloomy thought,” precisely because the means of preserving the ruler could not be achieved and he was “forced to compromise,” and then through his works “sought similar symbolic emotions”—a sense of superiority—to “stroke” his sense of inferiority—this is the best embodiment. In the Li Sao, Nüxu’s advice, the address to Chonghua, knocking at the Heavenly Gate, seeking the three ladies below, divining with Lingfen, and seeking fragrant herbs far away, are all symbolic metaphors of spiritual stroking or seeking spiritual stroking. But in these spiritual strokings, we also see Qu Yuan’s predicament: Nüxu’s advice had little effect; the address to Chonghua did not resolve the “depression”; knocking at the Heavenly Gate met obstruction; seeking the three ladies below yielded nothing; Lingfen told him to seek far away; seeking far away yet he could not bear it; in the end the result could only be “the women’s quarters are already deep and far, and the wise king also does not awaken,” the two contradicting each other. “The road is long, long and far; I shall search above and below” became an eternal present tense, without end. As Qian Chengzhi pointed out in the “Preface to Qu Gu”: “The writings of Qu Zi are like a widow’s wailing; before and after the complaint is nothing but these words, yet one complaint after another, still not enough to exhaust the pain.”26 That is to say, writing to express emotion is the only and greatest stroking Qu Yuan can obtain; yet this stroking is forever insufficient and never thorough. This is Qu Yuan’s predicament.
Qu Yuan’s predicament lies in that his situation could never be fundamentally improved; although it is said that later he was once summoned back by the King of Chu and reappointed, that was only like Napoleon’s temporary restoration after being exiled to Elba—brief as a flash; between appearing and extinguishing, it instead further reflected the sorrow of his situation. One palindromic famous saying of Napoleon goes: “Able was I ere I saw Elba.” (Elba witnessed my incompetence) Yet what is even more tragic is his second exile elsewhere—“Elba could no longer see my incompetence”; that, for him, was even more fatal! Adler believed that if striving for superiority is merely avoiding the heavy and taking the light, merely covering up or evading the real problem, then a sense of superiority instead becomes a tool for “self-intoxication” or “numbness”—not only useless, but also deepening inferiority.27 We cannot assert that Qu Yuan, as Adler said, avoided the heavy and took the light and evaded problems, but it is also hard to deny the fact that Qu Yuan fell into the vicious cycle of “unsatisfactory situation—striving to improve situation—unable to improve—lack of superiority—deepening inferiority.” We can almost say: Qu Yuan’s sense of inferiority was so enormous that it was not inferior to the intensity of his strong sense of superiority!
According to game theory’s presupposition that people always pursue the maximization of “self-realization” and Maslow’s claim about humans’ “self-actualization” needs, we can imagine: with each deepening of inferiority, Qu Yuan’s strong sense of superiority would consciously or unconsciously tend to drive him to restrain that deepening. If his sense of superiority could not contend against his sense of inferiority—we must not forget that Qu Yuan’s situation had already become a desert of superiority and a hotbed of inferiority—then he could only achieve a certain compromise through the creation of Chu Ci and the soul, symbolically manufacturing an illusory sense of superiority, to “vent indignation and express emotion,” and dispel anxiety. This “bloated” superiority obtained in the form of self-repression, because it lacks a real basis and spiritual source, cannot be long-lasting, nor can it be a “reasonable method of emotional release.” Nathaniel Branden’s “self-esteem” in “the psychology of self-esteem” in this paper’s discourse system in fact matches the sense of superiority as if by tally—namely, both take the striving to improve one’s situation and not to be towered over psychologically by others as their manifestation. When Branden discussed his “psychology of self-esteem,” he said:
Only when we possess a reasonable method of emotional release can we avoid self-doubt, despair, and fear…… On the other hand, when we are controlled by our feelings in our thoughts and behavior, neurosis arises.28
Qu Yuan used his works to provide the best annotation for this sentence:
Not measuring the mortise and setting the tenon, the former cultivators were indeed pickled and minced.
I once sobbed, depressed and constrained, lamenting that my time was not fitting.
Gathering ru and hui to cover my tears, wetting my lapels in streams……
How can hearts of parting be the same? I shall go far away and distance myself. (Li Sao)
Feelings sink and are suppressed and cannot reach expression; again covered and none can make them clear.
My heart is depressed and I am frustrated, and none examines my inner feelings.
Truly vexing words cannot be tied and given; I wish to state my will yet have no road.
Retreating, I am silent and none know me; advancing, I cry out and none hear me.
I reiterate my frustrated vexation; inside I am oppressed and in turmoil……
Wishing to run crosswise yet losing the road, I hold firm my will and cannot bear.
With chest and back split, pain intermingles; my heart is knotted and twisted. (Xi Song)
Upright upright, vexed and wronged, stuck and unable to vent.
From predawn I stretch my inner feelings; my will sinks and is tangled and cannot reach……
Wishing to change my integrity to follow the vulgar, I am ashamed to alter the beginning and bend my will.
Alone I have endured years and left sorrow; how could my heart yet not transform…… (Si Mei Ren)
From the above we can see a Qu Yuan lamenting that he was born at the wrong time, at a loss whether to advance or retreat, anguished and unbearable; we also see many negative psychologies such as self-doubt, despair, fear, vexation, suppression, etc.—this rational author of the “Heavenly Questions” was actually unable to control his negative emotions! He, full of superiority, has now fallen to such destitution!
“Bei Hui Feng” is the culmination of depicting this psychology, and the concluding words of the last part push Qu Yuan’s psychological state of shaken self-identification to the extreme:
I resent what I once hoped for in the past, and lament the trembling of those to come.
Floating along the Yangtze and Huai and entering the sea, I follow Wu Zixu and make myself at ease.
Looking toward islets in the great river, I grieve at Shentu Di’s resistant traces.
Rushing to remonstrate with the ruler yet not being heard, what use is it to shoulder stones again and again!
My heart is knotted and cannot be untied; I think of Jianchan and cannot let go.
Although many Qu Yuan researchers through the ages, such as Wen Yiduo and Guo Moruo, believe the last few lines29 are “intruded by slipped strips and should be deleted,” the author believes that, without reliable historical materials, merely because “the meaning is opposite and the sentences are repetitive,” to consider that these words could not possibly accord with Qu Yuan’s thought and could not possibly have been written by Qu Yuan is somewhat overcorrective—just as we cannot deny the existence of Qu Yuan the person merely because of the insufficiency of historical materials and differences in claims. Even if these words really are “intruded by slipped strips,” the author still thinks they fit Qu Yuan’s psychology quite well. Because the opposition in meaning is precisely evidence of the contradiction in personality, and this is exactly the normal state manifested in Qu Yuan’s works; it is also precisely Branden’s so-called manifestation of “neurosis,” and even more the product of the conflict between Qu Yuan’s strong sense of superiority and enormous sense of inferiority. A sense of superiority and a sense of inferiority are a pair of contradictory sides; in fact, they are also a microcosm of Qu Yuan’s personality contradictions…….
When we say Qu Yuan’s personality had contradictions, this does not carry moral condemnation, and this statement also does not conflict with what the author in the previous chapter called the high degree of consistency in Qu Yuan’s personality. It is correct that Qu Yuan’s personality’s high degree of consistency withstood the test of a long time; it is also not wrong that contradictions in Qu Yuan’s personality are common and occur from time to time. The author believes that without the foil of Qu Yuan’s contradictory personality, it is hard for us to imagine how difficult it is to adhere to an ideal personality, and thus we would not perceive the high degree of consistency in Qu Yuan’s personality. Just as, on the moral level, without the fickleness of the vulgar multitude as a contrast, no one would realize the true nature of Qu Yuan’s pure and outstanding integrity. Only by recognizing this can we study Qu Yuan as a human being, and only then can we have any study of Qu Yuan the person. Qu Yuan’s works are an art with the “manifestation of vitality”; Kuriyagawa Hakuson believed that this art is a “symbol of anguish” produced by the “conflict” between “the expression of individuality” (“personal desire”) and “social oppression” (“external restraint”), and also a “leap of life.”30 We cannot only see the “leap of life” and ignore the “anguished” soul.
Qian Zhongshu pointed out in discussing art that the “Li Sao” not only has “feelings that are cut yet unbroken,” but also has “a condition that is reasoned yet more chaotic,”31 which can be regarded as an emotional expression of Qu Yuan’s contradictions, but not specific enough. When appreciating the “Li Sao,” Yin Guangxi said:
From the thread of ideological development, the whole poem runs through the main line of “the tragic conflict in the poet’s inner world.” “This main line is then displayed as contradictions in two aspects: first, the opposition between the poet’s ideals and the real environment; second, the opposition between the poet’s thought of traveling far to distance himself and his feelings of attachment to the old state. The former can be called the contradiction between subjective and objective, while the latter belongs to contradictions within the subjective world; the two together intertwine into a tragic conflict in the poet’s soul…….. (Ma Maoyuan, Chen Bohai, A Timeless Masterpiece on <Li Sao>)”.32
Analyzing and summarizing Qu Yuan’s contradictions from the perspective of subjectivity and objectivity has an excellent entry point, but the induction feels somewhat lacking in detail. From the logical possibility, one should classify the concrete manifestations of Qu Yuan’s personality contradictions by three models: “subjective—subjective,” “subjective—objective,” and “objective—objective.” But from factual possibility, for an “objective—objective” contradiction to be reflected in Qu Yuan’s spiritual world, it must be internalized through his “subjective” will into concrete personality contradiction; thus this model in fact is equivalent to “subjective—objective.” Because human subjectivity likewise has rational and sensuous divisions, by the same logic we can refine the “subjective—subjective” model into three sub-models: “rational—rational,” “sensuous—rational,” and “sensuous—sensuous.” But because the “rational—rational” model is not operable, it can only be abandoned. What the author means is: by borrowing the three theoretical models of contradiction—“sensuous—rational,” “sensuous—sensuous,” and “subjective—objective”—and through reasonable induction from Qu Yuan’s works, we are fully likely to grasp well the concrete manifestations of Qu Yuan’s personality contradictions, thereby deepening our understanding of Qu Yuan’s personality.
In the author’s view, Qu Yuan’s personality contradictions are concretely manifested in the following five aspects:
First is the contradiction between the subjective desire to preserve the ruler and revive the state and the objective fact that the ruler cannot be preserved. This contradiction can also be said to be the contradiction between the subjective desire to be employed and the objective reality of being exiled. This has already been clarified in the previous section and will not be repeated here.
Second is the contradiction between the ideal Chu subjectively and the real Chu objectively. This contradiction can also be said to be the contradictory comparison in Qu Yuan’s mind between Chu’s present and past national strength. In the “Li Sao,” we can see this contradictory comparison:
In former times the three kings were pure indeed; truly all fragrant herbs were there.
Mixing shen pepper and jun cinnamon—how could it be only to string hui and chai!
Those Yao and Shun were upright and steadfast, already following the Way and gaining the road.
Why were Jie and Zhou so rampant and unrestrained? Only taking shortcuts to straiten their steps.
Third is the contradiction between the subjective desire to seek spiritual companions and the objective difficulty of meeting such people. Spiritual companions here should be divided into two kinds: one is a husband-and-wife relationship in which “two beauties must unite,” and the other is a friend relationship of shared aspiration. The former can be shown by “Li Sao” seeking women three times and failing, “lamenting that on high hills there are no women,” and seeking fragrant herbs far away yet unable to bear leaving the state. The Nine Songs is regarded by many scholars as a commissioned work written under orders when Qu Yuan was young, successful, and trusted; however, Fang Zhimin’s view might also serve as a possible reference:
The love in the Nine Songs is Qu Yuan’s use of myth to express his own expectations and aspirations; through the mentality of intimate lovers waiting for each other, waiting long and not coming yet always full of expectation, and the ending of returning in disappointment, he expresses an enduring pursuit of ideals, and the sorrow of the shattering of pursuit.
Such lines as “Time cannot be regained twice” (Xiang Jun), “Time cannot be suddenly obtained” (Xiang Furen), and “No sorrow is sadder than living separation” (Shao Siming) can all be taken as footnotes to this sentence. As for the latter, Qu Yuan said “No joy is greater than new understanding,” (same as above) yet “new understanding” is either already “former sages” and “former cultivators” like the “three kings,” or else positions are unstable and the world has no such person! In the “Li Sao” he complains:
I have already nourished orchids in nine plots, and also planted a hundred mu of sweet herbs.
I bordered with liuyi and jieshe, mixed with duheng and fragrant zhi.
Hoping their branches and leaves would grow lush, I wish to wait for the time when I shall harvest.
Though they wither and die, what harm is it? I grieve that all the fragrant ones are gone to weeds……..How fickle and changeable are the times; how could one linger? Orchids and angelica change and are no longer fragrant; thoroughwort and sweet-sedge turn into thatch. How is it that the fragrant grasses of former days have now become mere wormwood and mugwort? Could there be some other reason? There is no harm like not loving self-cultivation!
This is a criticism of the students one has cultivated oneself, or of old friends close by whose stance is unstable; and the line “Wearing mugwort to fill my waist, they say the secluded orchid is not worth wearing” is precisely a manifestation of the belief that there is no one left in the world worthy of being a friend!
Fourth is the contradiction between rationality and sensibility. Rationally: “I have long known that being outspoken would bring trouble,” “I do not find it hard to part”; sensibly: “I endure, yet cannot let go,” “I grieve that Lingxiu changes so often.” Rationally: “When the state has no one who understands me, why should I cling to the old capital!” (Li Sao) Sensibly: “Birds fly back to their homeland; when a fox dies, its head must face the hill.” (Ai Ying) Rationally: “August Heaven is impartial”; sensibly: “I look at the people’s virtue and how it is mismatched and supported.” (Li Sao) Rationally: “The lives of the people receive their allotments; each has where it is placed”; (Huai Sha) sensibly: “If August Heaven’s mandate is not pure, why do the hundred surnames quake in guilt?” (Ai Ying) Rationally: “Upholding virtue without selfishness, I match Heaven and Earth”; sensibly: “Receiving the mandate without change, I was born in the southern land.” (Ju Song) Rationally: “Old age creeps ever closer; I fear my fair name will not be established”; sensibly: “Since there is none with whom to carry out fine governance, I shall follow where Peng Xian dwells!” (Li Sao) And so on. Many scholars, from the perspective of identity recognition, attribute this contradiction to the conflict between the poet’s identity and the political participant’s identity. For a poet needs sensibility, while a political participant must be rational.
Fifth is the contradiction, on the level of sensibility, between trying to cut through sorrowful thoughts with reason and having those sorrowful thoughts grow ever more chaotic. Qu Yuan, on the one hand, wants to travel far away and distance himself to cast off his anguish; on the other hand, he longs for his native land and finds it hard to set out—this is the best example. This view has already been explained in the previous section, so I will not repeat it here.
The contradictions in the above five aspects confirm the assertion that “there are contradictions in Qu Yuan’s personality,” and thus provide a powerful explanation for the correctness of Qu Yuan’s spiritual predicament. For the five contradictions above—whether between subject and object or between sensibility and rationality—can all be reduced to the fact that Qu Yuan’s situation could not be improved (including both his real situation and his spiritual situation). According to the previous section’s account, Qu Yuan’s contradictory personality can be reduced to the “overall contradiction” of “the situation is not satisfactory—striving to improve the situation—the situation cannot be improved—loss of a sense of superiority—inferiority deepens”!
Kuriyagawa Hakuson wrote in The Symbol of Anguish:
Except for those who, unable to endure this anguish, or in the extremity of despair, deny life and go so far as to commit suicide, people always want to devise some method to escape this bitter predicament, break through this obstacle, and press forward.33
Then was Qu Yuan’s suicide in order to “escape” the “bitter predicament” and “obstacle” of contradiction? If we do not respond to this most crucial question, we cannot fundamentally understand Qu Yuan’s personality contradictions and predicament, nor can we further strengthen the persuasiveness of this paper. This is a proposition one cannot evade.
Regarding Qu Yuan’s suicide, what I have seen are nothing more than the following views:
According to the summary in The Poetic Soul of the East, edited by Hao Zhida and Wang Xisan, there are various explanations for the cause of Qu Yuan’s death as follows.
1. Died for the purpose of “corpse remonstrance”;
2. Died because the ruler ordered his death;
3. Qu Yuan’s suicide is an expression of a spirit of struggle;
4. The original bloodline spirit of the Qu clan;
5. The psychosexual secret of Qu Yuan’s “death by water”—out of anxiety and narcissism;
6. To die for the state;
7. To die for the Way;
8. Qu Yuan died by murder.
Among these, the murder and ordered-death theories have no basis and are clearly mere conjecture. Some views are, as the editors of The Poetic Soul of the East put it:
Some comrades ignore that the era in which Qu Yuan lived was already the Warring States period when rational spirit was on the rise, and interpret too much using factors of primitive culture; or they ignore Qu Yuan’s level of thought as a statesman and thinker, and instead emphasize the role of the unconscious—these may all produce one-sided and unscientific tendencies.34
In my view, explanations 2 and 8 lack evidence and can be left aside; explanation 5 has the suspicion of “over-sexualization” and is less accurate than superiority and inferiority; the remaining explanations are reasonable, but each clings to only one point, lacks comprehensiveness, and fails to study Qu Yuan as a human being. While elevating Qu Yuan, they also often contain moral value judgments, and it is hard to avoid unfairness. As for the editors’ comment in The Poetic Soul of the East, I believe it is itself “one-sided” and “unscientific.” In fact, we certainly must not overestimate the roles of “primitive cultural factors” and “the unconscious,” but underestimating them is also inadvisable. In the “Warring States era when rational spirit was on the rise,” the conflict between civilization and human instinct suddenly grew larger and larger; reflected in the human spiritual world, it instead became an increasingly inward bewilderment and repression. If we acknowledge that dramatic social change occurred in Chinese society in that period, we must acknowledge this point. As for the discussion of the conflict between civilization and instinct, it was in fact already clearly expressed by Xunzi—over two thousand years before the Austrian psychoanalyst Freud—through the pair of concepts “nature and artifice,” which can serve as a side proof of the social psychology of that time, especially the psychology of intellectuals.35 What is more, identity recognition itself is a concept in the domain of the unconscious; if one emphasizes the profound influence of identity recognition, yet does not “emphasize the role of the unconscious” more, it is like a cosmetics seller running an ad that says “we hate chemistry.” In short: east seas and west seas, the psyche is the same; former ages and later ages, the spirit is similar. As Kuriyagawa Hakuson pointed out, the bewilderment and repression of life—“though, owing to the general trend of the times, the organization of society, and differences in personal temperament and circumstances, there may be differences in degree and strength, yet from primitive times to the present there is almost no one who is not troubled by this pain. The ancients once sighed over it as ‘life is not as one wishes,’ and also said, ‘what does not follow the heart is the human world.’” No matter what special characteristics Qu Yuan may have, we must never forget Qu Yuan’s human side—this is the starting point of all our theories.
Here, I am willing to present my answer from two aspects: “Qu Yuan on death” (Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death) and “Qu Yuan’s death” (analyzing Qu Yuan’s death), and I hope my answer will not be too “one-sided” or “unscientific.”
Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death is very complex. Based on all of Qu Yuan’s extant works, I believe this complex attitude can roughly be divided into three major categories—Qu Yuan believed he could die for self-identification, die for the motherland, and die for himself. To die for self-identification means to maintain the consistency of one’s own personality (mainly in moral terms), because one’s talents have no place to be used, to inherit the unfinished aspirations of predecessors, and to die in devotion because of the absence of a spiritual companion. To die for oneself refers to ending one’s life in order to escape spiritual pain. Of course, since I have already stated the complexity of Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death, it also means that this classification is only an idealized induction. The relationship among the major categories is by no means sharply distinct and mutually exclusive. In fact, the three are intertwined—each contains the other and permeates the other. For example, the loss of self-identification and the decline of the motherland will both cause Qu Yuan pain; thus dying for the first two can also be said to be dying for himself. Another example: Qu Yuan wrote in Bei Hui Feng:
Holding my pure substance, embracing my azure ideals, alone without a match. When Bole is gone, where can a fine steed be tested? The lives of the people receive their allotments, each has where it is placed. Fixing my heart and broadening my resolve—what do I fear! I have long been wounded and sorrowful, forever sighing and lamenting. The world is muddy and turbid and none knows me; people’s hearts cannot be spoken of. Knowing that death cannot be yielded, I would not cherish life. I clearly tell the noble man: I shall take him as my kind.
These lines show that because there is no spiritual companion (alone without a match), no place to employ his abilities (where can a fine steed be tested), the mandate of Heaven is fixed (each has where it is placed), his aspiration is fixed (fixing my heart and broadening my resolve), spiritual pain (forever sighing and lamenting), and in order to model himself on the virtuous noble man, Qu Yuan came to understand that “death cannot be yielded,” and that living had already lost meaning. Interestingly, the phrase “I would not cherish life” also reveals Qu Yuan’s hesitation about death. Not only hesitation, but from the line “To remonstrate with the ruler time and again and not be heard—what use is it to bear a rock as a burden!” (Bei Hui Feng), it seems Qu Yuan also once thought suicide was not worth it. From this we can see: Qu Yuan’s death is by no means that simple!
The first category of Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death—dying for self-identification:
It is what my heart deems good; though I die nine times, I still will not regret… Lying low, keeping pure and dying upright—this is what the former sages valued… Bringing my body to the brink of peril and death, looking back to my beginning, I still have no regret… Though I cannot fit with the people of today, I wish to follow Peng Xian’s remaining rule… Since there is none with whom to carry out fine governance, I shall follow where Peng Xian dwells! (Li Sao)
Though the body dies, the spirit is numinous; the soul and魄 are resolute, becoming a hero among ghosts. (Guo Shang)
Gazing to the Three and Five as my image, pointing to Peng Xian as my model (Chou Si)
I grieve that the returning wind shakes the蕙; my heart’s grievance knots and wounds within. Things may be slight and yet destroy one’s nature; voices may be hidden yet first to rise. Why did Peng Xian set his thoughts so, and with his chaste resolve not forget! How could myriad changes of feeling be covered—whose falsehood can last long! (Bei Hui Feng)
The second category of Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death—dying for the motherland:
Alone, solitary, I go southward, thinking of Peng Xian’s former cause. (Si Mei Ren)
Birds fly back to their homeland; when a fox dies, its head must face the hill. (Ai Ying)
The third category of Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death—dying for himself:
Bending my heart and suppressing my will, enduring blame and repelling insult. Better to die suddenly and go into exile—I cannot bear to be in such a state… Holding my feelings within and not letting them out, how can I endure and end with this forever? (Li Sao)
Sorrowful and quiet is my constant grief; drifting in darkness, I cannot be amused. Crossing great waves and riding the wind, I entrust myself to where Peng Xian dwells… Better to die suddenly and go into exile than bear this heart’s constant sorrow. The orphan chants and wipes tears; the banished one goes out and does not return. Who can think and not be pained? I follow what Peng Xian has heard. (Bei Hui Feng)
Besides this, I must state: as I pointed out in Chapter Two, what sustains all of Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority is the state of Chu, not the King of Chu. The idea of preserving the ruler and reviving the state shows that the King of Chu was only a means, while reviving the state was the goal. Although we cannot deny that Qu Yuan’s death had the purpose of “corpse remonstrance,” this can only be a by-product, a marginal effect. In Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death, we do not see expressions of dying for the King of Chu. The only thing we can see is something like what Qu Yuan wrote in Xi Wang Ri:
Facing the dark abyss of the Yuan and Xiang, I then endured and sank into the flowing waters. In the end I perished and cut off my name—pitying that the ailing ruler is not enlightened. The ruler is without measure and does not discern, making fragrant grasses a secluded marsh. How can I soothe my feelings and draw forth my trust? Calmly facing death, with nothing to rely on… Better to die suddenly and go into exile, fearing calamity will come again. Without finishing my words I rush to the abyss—pitying that the ailing ruler does not recognize.
These lines show that Qu Yuan died for self-identification (perished and cut off my name), and died for himself (how can I soothe my feelings and draw forth my trust), not for the King of Chu. The King’s benightedness and lack of measure, turning fragrance into filth—besides bringing calamity upon Chu, making Qu Yuan ever more anguished and resentful, making Qu Yuan repeatedly curse and rebuke, and making Qu Yuan “calmly face death, with nothing to rely on,” what else could it do?
In sum, we can at least obtain two insights:
From Qu Yuan’s attitude toward death, we determine that the psychology behind Qu Yuan’s suicide was extremely complex. This psychology cannot be summarized simply by any single one of these views—dying for corpse remonstrance, contending by death (spirit of struggle, bloodline tradition), dying for the state, dying for the Way; even combining these views cannot satisfy, and at least still cannot encompass the induction of this paper.
Qu Yuan’s works were not written all at once, and the views of life and death expressed in them are quite complex; this indicates that Qu Yuan’s death was the product of long-term deliberation, not a momentary impulse, and perhaps had a certain inevitability. Therefore, analysis of the cause of Qu Yuan’s death must use a comprehensive and dynamic perspective; it must proceed from the human angle. Those using one-sided and static perspectives, those suspected of deifying Qu Yuan, are all unacceptable!
From these two insights, I would like to put forward two views:
If the above induction of Qu Yuan’s view of life and death is reasonable, and if the discourse system and theoretical construction of this paper are complete, then I can say: Qu Yuan died for self-identification and for the motherland because of his intense sense of superiority; Qu Yuan died for himself because, deeply mired in the pain of spiritual predicament and contradiction, he could not extricate himself and chose the final and most thorough death to suppress the huge inferiority complex within. So, overall, Qu Yuan’s death, in the final analysis, was death within the overarching contradiction of irreconcilable superiority and inferiority in his heart.
Confucius said: “Not yet knowing life, how can one know death?” Since Qu Yuan’s death went through a long process, one should seek its cause from Qu Yuan’s spiritual state before he died. Living well, of course, need not be discussed; thus the only thing worth discussing falls on Qu Yuan’s spiritual state of neither dead nor alive. For convenience of expression, I call this state of neither dead nor alive “madness,” specifically referring to a pathological state when a person is physically and mentally exhausted and in unbearable pain. Calling it a pathological state is in comparison with the normal state; it is only a descriptive device and contains no moral value judgment. Then the key question now is: did Qu Yuan truly show manifestations of madness? If so, how is this related to his death? I believe that only through a discussion of Qu Yuan’s madness can we clarify the cause of his death further; and only through an analysis of the cause of his death can we better understand Qu Yuan’s personality. This is the significance of this discussion.
Population geography has a basic pair of concepts: “population capacity” and “reasonable population capacity.” Simply put, population capacity refers to the maximum number of people a region can accommodate by mobilizing all its natural resources and social conditions; it is a limit concept. Reasonable population capacity refers, under the same circumstances, to the best number of people the region can accommodate without violating its humanistic concepts and scientific calculations; it is a balance concept. The human heart is the same. The human heart also has a reasonable capacity and a limit capacity. When a person’s mental pressure exceeds the “reasonable capacity of the human heart,” the person will be in a state of madness; when a person’s mental pressure exceeds the “capacity of the human heart,” the person will die—by suicide or by illness. Just as geography emphasizes “adapting measures to local conditions,” psychology also needs “varying from person to person.” Discussing Qu Yuan’s spiritual state can only start from his own texts.
Once the balanced tendency of the “capacity of the human heart” is destroyed, it marks the irreconcilability of contradictions—this is the basic characteristic of madness. Qu Yuan’s contradictions stem from the mutual contest between a sense of superiority and an inferiority complex. According to Chapter One, I believe the source of Qu Yuan’s sense of superiority lies in external suggestion and self-identification; more directly, in the ideal of fine governance of preserving the ruler and reviving the state, and in his unwavering conviction that he cultivated both virtue and talent. According to Chapter Two, I believe Qu Yuan’s inferiority complex is rooted in the inability of his situation to be improved. This inability is concretely reflected in the fact that his ideal of preserving the ruler and reviving the state had no way to be realized; this led to Qu Yuan’s spiritual predicament and contradictory conflict, as well as the wavering of his self-identification. I say that in order to maximize his pursuit of self “self-realization,” Qu Yuan would instinctively suppress this constantly emerging inferiority complex; and such suppression could only be achieved by manufacturing a “bloated” sense of superiority to counterbalance it—this is the root of his spiritual predicament and contradiction. At this point in the argument, we can finally say: unable to preserve the ruler, unable to display his talent, with no way to revive the state, once superiority becomes “bloated,” Qu Yuan, apart from obtaining vitality from morality, expressing emotion through writing, and soothing his spirit, had no other way. Because superiority comes from comparison, Qu Yuan, apart from making a moral comparison with the vulgar crowd, also had no other way.
This kind of moral comparison—“the whole world is muddy while I alone am clear; all people are drunk while I alone am awake” (Yu Fu)—is most fully and vividly embodied in Bu Ju, and is the best example of Qu Yuan’s madness:
Would I rather be sincere and plain, simple and loyal, or send off those going and labor for those coming, without end? Would I rather weed and hoe grasses and thatch and plow with strength, or associate with great men to achieve fame? Would I rather speak upright words without concealment and risk my life, or follow the customs’ riches and honors and steal a living? Would I rather rise aloof and high to preserve the true, or be obsequious and cringing, whining like a petty scholar, to serve women? Would I rather be incorrupt and upright to cleanse myself, or be slippery and clownish, like grease, like softened leather, to cleanse the pillars? Would I rather be proud like a colt that can run a thousand li, or drift like a duck in the water, up and down with the waves, stealing to keep my body whole? Would I rather share a yoke with a fine steed, or follow the tracks of a nag? Would I rather pair wings with the yellow swan, or contend for food with chickens and ducks?
From this we can see that the differences and contradictions between Qu Yuan and the “vulgar crowd” had clearly reached the point of mutual incompatibility. This sharp impulse can easily push a person to extremes, so that in the process of subconsciously preventing oneself from being alienated (maintaining a high consistency of personality), one unconsciously becomes alienated (developing a tendency toward personality contradiction). When Qu Yuan comprehensively expressed his break with the vulgar crowd, he used eight resounding rhetorical questions in a row (though they appear as questions), showing how intense his emotions were—perhaps already reaching, at that time, a spiritual predicament of paranoia, splitting, and compulsion, even to the point of suspected personality disorder. The personality disorder here contains no moral coloring, but refers to a pathological psychological process in which an individual goes from being incompatible with the social environment to being unable to tolerate himself—this is truly a spiritual trap. “Tortoise and milfoil truly cannot know this matter”—of course; when souls collide, how could spirits and gods know? Rousseau, who in his later years wrote Confessions, likewise was not tolerated by the “vulgar crowd” in life and finally died in spiritual pain, only in his last work Reveries of the Solitary Walker reflected on the relationship between society and himself, believing that even if he were isolated from the world, living independently, alone, he still could not obtain personal happiness; he said: “I can only feel happy when everyone is happy.”36 Since humans are social animals, a break with all others can ultimately only lead to a break with oneself; under such extreme comparison or conflict with others, the unfortunate one, in the end, can only first be oneself. Qu Yuan seems never to have realized this in his whole life; Yu Fu records his self-statement or psychology before his death:
Those newly washed must flick their cap; those newly bathed must shake out their clothes. How can I, with my body so clean and distinct, accept the muddiness of things? Better to plunge into the Xiang’s flowing waters, to be buried in the bellies of river fish. How can I, with such bright white, be covered with the dust of worldly customs? (Yu Fu)
Qu Yuan’s so-called “independent and unchanging” independent personality has no problem at all; but the above passage’s “solitary without a match” kind of “isolated personality” is pathological and abnormal. Here, normal and pathological take the mental condition of humans in the usual state as the standard and contain no moral inclination. But from the point of view of the human instinctive pursuit of a sense of superiority, an isolated personality is clearly also inadvisable and will not last long—things reverse when they reach an extreme. As Laozi said: “Being and non-being give birth to each other; difficult and easy complete each other; long and short contrast each other; high and low lean on each other; sound and tone harmonize each other; before and after follow each other.”37 Therefore, as Qu Yuan’s personal moral superiority developed to this point, the inferiority complex that shadowed him must also have reached its peak; the contradiction between intense superiority and enormous inferiority also became irreconcilable—this is precisely the sign of his madness.
Qu Yuan’s spiritual state developing from normal to madness is in fact a microcosm of his personality developing from independence to isolation. Jung has the famous formula “I + We = Fully I” (I + we = the perfect I), meaning that “the combination of self, personal consciousness, and the collective unconscious can make a perfect self.”38 In other words, pursuing the consistency of personality and a perfect personality cannot be established on the condition of isolation from the world. Because an “isolated personality” leads to a paradox—this paradox is destined by the great “contradiction” between pursuing personality consistency and perfect personality, and the tendency toward personality contradiction, and thus is necessarily unsolvable. We may take Shen Congwen’s experience as a side proof. In January 1949, Shen Congwen, “in an unprecedented sense of isolation under strong stimulation,” “became mentally ill.” In a note appended to Shen Congwen’s letter to Zhang Zhahe on January 30, he wrote:
Give me a rest that is not too painful; no need to wake up, and it will be fine. What I say no one understands at all. Not a single friend is willing to understand, dares to understand, that I am not mad. Everyone hems and haws and avoids it, afraid to get involved. What is this? People must rest; what’s wrong with tidying oneself up? Wang Xun, who studies philosophy, also doesn’t understand; he really treats me as a madman. I think many people are participating in a plot to harm me, because there’s something exciting to watch… I have no premise; I only hope for an ending that is not too humiliating. No one is willing to understand; they all brush it off. Completely in isolation. Isolated and despairing, I never had the illusion of survival. I ought to rest like that! … If I force myself to conform, servilely seeking safety, what use is such optimism? Let people be optimistic; I am not pessimistic either… I am very tired, very tired. Hearing dogs bark endlessly. Why are you still calling? If they eat me I will be silent. I do not care to give away this body; whether it feeds dogs or tigers is originally the same.39
Shen Congwen, trapped in an isolated personality, has a fundamental similarity with Qu Yuan: distrust of everyone around him and a sense of persecution—wasn’t Qu Yuan exactly like this? In a rather metaphorical way, when Shen Congwen and Qu Yuan were in a state of madness, on the one hand they both regarded the people around them as dogs; on the other hand they both behaved calmly and fearlessly (“Hearing dogs bark endlessly. Why are you still calling? If they eat me I will be silent. I do not care to give away this body; whether it feeds dogs or tigers is originally the same.”). And Qu Yuan wrote in Huai Sha: “Town dogs bark in packs, barking at what they find strange; not doubting the swift or the outstanding is indeed the vulgar habit.” Records of the Grand Historian records that Qu Yuan “then composed the fu Huai Sha,” and then threw himself into the water and killed himself.40 Of course Huai Sha cannot possibly have been written shortly before Qu Yuan threw himself into the water, otherwise how could it have been transmitted? But taking Huai Sha as a work from before Qu Yuan’s suicide, when he was in a state of madness, does not seem unreasonable.
An independent personality is not sustainable; the end of isolation is only destruction. “Completely in isolation. Isolated and despairing, I never had the illusion of survival. I ought to rest like that!”—how vividly real this psychological description is! “In early January, Shen Congwen wrote at the end of his old work Green Nightmare such a passage: ‘I ought to rest; my nerves have developed to the highest point I can adapt to. If I do not collapse, I will go mad.’” The capacity of the human heart is always limited; once the limit is broken, one truly “will go mad if not collapse.” Didn’t Qu Yuan first have “madness” and then commit suicide—exactly like this? Shen Congwen first had madness, and not long after, “on the morning of March 28, Shen Congwen attempted suicide at home” (author’s note: later rescued)—wasn’t it also like this?41 In fact, Qu Yuan died within the irreconcilability of personality isolation; death was only the final and most thorough “rest” and balance.
Adler believed that “the most thorough expression of withdrawal is suicide,” because “the belief he shows is that he is completely powerless to improve his situation,” and thus he can only “strive” for “superiority” “in suicide.” “In every suicide case, we always find that the deceased will certainly attribute responsibility for his death to some person. The suicide seems to be saying: ‘I am the gentlest and kindest of all humankind, and yet you treat me so cruelly!’”42 Although I cannot agree with Adler’s discussion of suicide through moral value judgment, this view, at least in Qu Yuan’s case, is verified. The “subtext” of the suicide is precisely an expression of personality isolation.
Saying Qu Yuan’s death was inevitable may be incomprehensible to many: if living provides no superiority, why commit suicide? This shows that suicide is not an easy thing, at least not something a coward would dare to do. On the other hand, moral public opinion often, for unknown purposes, disparages suicide as “a manifestation of cowardice.” We can well ask in return: if it is a manifestation of cowardice, then you try it?! But this very retort shows that if viewed from the moral level, suicide is an inexplicable act. If suicide is an inexplicable act, then how can we say Qu Yuan’s death had some inevitability? This is precisely the drawback of analyzing Qu Yuan’s personality from the moral level. In fact, there are two kinds of pain: physical pain and spiritual pain. When physical pain is greater than spiritual pain, a person’s nerves are particularly sensitive to physical pain—let alone suicide. When spiritual pain is greater than physical pain, a person’s nerves are relatively dull to physical pain. For example, when we are in an extremely depressed state, even if a blade cuts our finger, it is not easy to notice immediately. Only when the spiritual pain eases do we then discover the finger is bleeding and feel the finger hurt. Suicide is the same, only an extreme special case when spiritual pain develops to the utmost and far exceeds physical pain. The American writer Jodi Picoult’s novel Nineteen Minutes delicately depicts a case of school crime. The little boy in the story lives from childhood under moral soft knives from family, school, society, and so on; he wants to fit in but cannot. He feels that no one around him cares about him, not even the little girl he likes most—and she has gotten together with the boy he hates most. He feels isolated and mentally stimulated to the point of developing “post-traumatic stress disorder,” and finally makes the decision to shoot and perish together with his “love rival.”43 “Post-traumatic stress disorder” is precisely the best example of the loss of basic biological stress response when spiritual pain far exceeds physical pain.
Zweig wrote in his farewell letter “Statement”: after “my spiritual homeland Europa has also destroyed itself,” for a person “over sixty,” whose spiritual “strength has been exhausted through years of homelessness and wandering,” life has already lost meaning, so he “voluntarily, consciously, and in complete clarity bids farewell to life.”44 Yes: Qu Yuan’s death, like Zweig’s death, was by no means a momentary impulse and by no means irrational. Their spiritual pain had overwhelmed physical pain; only resolving spiritual pain was most urgent. As for death, it was merely a palatable medicine used to resolve spiritual pain. To die—what harm is there?
By taking superiority and inferiority as a new pair of concepts to describe Qu Yuan’s personality, I have reached such a conclusion: Qu Yuan’s personality has a high degree of consistency, but at the same time has quite a few contradictory tendencies, which led him to develop from an independent personality into an isolated personality in the end.
The high consistency of Qu Yuan’s personality is concretely manifested in his lifelong love for his native land, his lifelong self-purification, and his lifelong pursuit of the “fine governance” ideal of “preserving the ruler and reviving the state.”
The contradictory nature of Qu Yuan’s personality is mainly manifested in the failure to unify objective reality and subjective will, as well as the hesitation and repeated reversals within subjective will itself.
Qu Yuan practiced throughout his life the principle “The road is long and far; I will search up and down,” which in fact is the pursuit of maintaining the consistency of an ideal personality. But this pursuit of personality, due to the inability to improve his real situation, led to the continuous expansion of his tendency toward personality contradiction. The continuously expanding personality contradiction was a huge challenge to personality consistency; under repeated vicious games, Qu Yuan’s personality developed from the original independent personality into an isolated personality. Under the effect of this irreconcilable isolated personality, in order to strive for the superiority of personality consistency to suppress the inferiority of personality contradiction, Qu Yuan moved toward suicide.
So-called personality, in Greek, means “mask.” Jung believed that the “persona” is a product of the collective unconscious, a “racial memory,” “primary impression,” or “archetype” in which ancestral experience is preserved in descendants’ brains.[45] If this view holds, we can say that Qu Yuan, who had enormous influence, has already turned his personality into a kind of “persona mask” and personality model in Chinese national culture, long existing as the collective unconscious within the Chinese cultural sphere and continuing to exert tremendous influence. This is the most important significance of Qu Yuan’s personality for later generations.
Just as Guo Weisen candidly pointed out in the “Postscript” of A Critical Biography of Qu Yuan (Nanjing University Press, April 2011, 1st edition, p. 378), his own research is “nothing more than organizing the transmitted texts,” with “occasional elaboration.” If the same book is cited multiple times, unless specially requested, then except for the first citation, the rest only indicate the title and page number. Same below.
Inferiority and Beyond: Inferiority Complex and Superiority [Austria] Alfred Adler, translated by Cao Wanhong, China Friendship Publishing House, August 2013, 1st edition, pp. 39–41. Here I must clarify the relationship between striving for superiority and improving one’s personal situation. For the reason why superiority arises upon improving one’s personal situation is in fact still a psychology like this: one has done what others cannot do, or one has done what one does better than others. This psychology is naturally unrealistic, because the comparison itself is illusory, unreal, and incomparable, but this is precisely my presupposition about the human heart.
A Critical Biography of Qu Yuan: Qu Yuan’s Family Background and Life, p. 44.
The Predicament and Breakthrough of Language, Chapter One, “Heidegger: The Obscuring and Clarifying of the ‘Great Way’ and ‘Way-speaking’,” Zhang Zhuo, China Social Sciences Press, June 2010, 1st edition, pp. 35—43.
Collected Essays on Qu Yuan and Others, Wen Honglong, Hubei People’s Publishing House, April 2011, 1st edition, pp. 138–139.
Textbook of College Students’ Mental Health Education, Chapter Three, “College Students’ Personality Shaping,” chief editor Hu Kai, Hunan People’s Publishing House, July 2015, 4th edition, p. 59.
Temperament and Nature—Unlocking the Inborn Personality Code, Chapter One, “Introduction: What Is Temperament,” [USA] Jerome Kagan, translated by Zhang Denghao and Luo Qin, China Light Industry Press, p. 10.
Records of the Grand Historian (IV) Biography of Qu Yuan and Jia Yi, Zhonghua Book Company, January 2011, 1st edition, p. 2186.
Guan Zhui Bian (II) Supplementary Annotations to Hong Xingzu’s Chapter-and-Sentence Notes, Qian Zhongshu, Beijing: SDX Joint Publishing Company, July 2015, 2nd edition, p. 893; pp. 899–900.
Records of the Grand Historian (I) Basic Annals of Xiang Yu, p. 256.
Zuo Zhuan, Twelfth Year of Duke Zhao, included in Annotations and Subcommentaries to the Thirteen Classics, written by Li Mengsheng, Shanghai Ancient Books Publishing House, July 2014, 1st edition, 5th printing, p. 1032. For items also in the same collected volume, the publisher, year, and edition/printing are not noted.
Draft Essays on Qu Yuan, Chapter One, “The Era of Qu Yuan,” Nie Shiqiao, Zhonghua Book Company, May 2010, 1st edition, pp. 20—24.
A Critical Biography of Qu Yuan, pp. 49–51.
Records of the Grand Historian, p. 2183.
Draft Essays on Qu Yuan: Qu Yuan’s Life, pp. 42–43.
Draft Essays on Qu Yuan, p. 24.
All Qu Yuan works in this paper are cited from Complete Translation of the Songs of Chu (revised edition), translated and annotated by Huang Shouqi and Mei Tongsheng, 1st edition, September 2008. Because citations are numerous and not hard to locate, to avoid the drawback of too many notes, only the titles of the pieces are given, and page numbers are not indicated.
Chinese Studies of the Songs of Chu (No. 6), China Qu Yuan Society, Beijing: Xueyuan Press, January 2005, 1st edition, pp. 11, 12.
Mencius, Wan Chou II, written by Jin Liangnian, p. 98.
A Critical Biography of Qu Yuan: The Ideological Significance and Aesthetic Value of Qu Yuan’s Works, p. 244.
Records of the Grand Historian, pp. 2185–2186.
History of Chinese Literature (Volume I), Chapter Five, “Qu Yuan and the Songs of Chu,” chief editor Yuan Xingpei, Higher Education Press, May 2014, 3rd edition, p. 128.
Performance Games and Bureaucratic Mechanisms, Li Jiayuan, Cultural Horizons, October 2015 issue, No. 5, pp. 35–39. In fact, we might as well regard “institutional logic” and “individual logic” as another way of saying “people become institutionalized” and “people become individualized,” which makes it easier to understand. Using the “institutional logic perspective” theory, Li Jiayuan argued the relationship between the “performance system” and the vicious game (“improper stubbornness”) that produces “bureaucratic mechanisms,” while I have no intention of misappropriating the inferred “individual logic perspective” as the demonstrative theory for this paper’s narrative. But it does no harm to write it down as a supplementary remark: institutions are mutable, and before they change they exist in society “a priori”; thus we must reach the conclusion that institutional change needs to go through a bout of pain, and such change is in turn constrained by the original institutional logic. That is to say, new institutional logic is always inextricably linked to the original institutional logic; when such linkage increases, the new institutional logic and the old institutional logic may also sever ties and part ways. Individual behavioral logic is also mutable; as the psychologist William James said: “If you want to possess a quality, act as if you already possess that quality.” Later I will argue: because Qu Yuan’s situation could not be improved, his later behavior would, under the constraints of the new situation, become different from the past. Under repeated new behaviors, Qu Yuan’s deep-rooted sense of superiority would be challenged by the constantly emerging inferiority complex and thus develop a tendency to deviate and change. Under this asymmetric negative-sum game, in order to maintain the high consistency of his personality (where superiority lies), in order to strive for superiority, Qu Yuan had no choice but to contend by death. This game process also happens to reflect the basic trajectory of Qu Yuan’s personality’s contradictory tendencies, as well as the spiritual thread from independent personality to isolated personality, coinciding with the paper’s argumentative process.
Records of the Grand Historian, p. 2184, same below.
[USA] Eric Berne, cited in The Psychology Book—50 Great Classics, [USA] Tom Butler-Bowdon, translated by Chen Jianing and Ma Ning, China Youth Press, January 2011, 1st edition, p. 20.
Cited in Qu Yuan, Fang Yingmin, Yunnan Education Press, June 2011, 1st edition, p. 38.
Inferiority and Beyond, p. 40.
[USA] Nathaniel Branden, cited in The Psychology Book—50 Great Classics, p. 44.
For example, Wen Yiduo believed the last two lines were inserted due to omitted slips; Guo Moruo believed the last six lines all were. Cited from Complete Translation of the Songs of Chu (revised edition), p. 122.
The Symbol of Anguish: On Creation, Kuriyagawa Hakuson, translated by Lu Xun, included in Complete Works of Lu Xun (Vol. 13), Tongxin Publishing House, August 2015, 1st edition, pp. 5–11.
Guan Zhui Bian (II), p. 893.
Collected Essays on the Songs of Chu, written by Yin Guangxi, chief editor Cao Xiaohong, Sichuan Publishing Group Bashu Publishing House, March 2008, 1st edition, p. 257.
The Symbol of Anguish, p. 10.
A Critical Biography of Qu Yuan, p. 78.
Xunzi, “Human Nature Is Evil,” Chapter Twenty-Three (Zhonghua Book Company, written by [Qing] Wang Xianqian, March 2012, 1st edition, pp. 420–422, 424.): “As for nature, it is what Heaven completes; it cannot be learned, it cannot be worked at. Ritual and propriety are what sages produce; what humans learn and can do, what they work at and accomplish. What cannot be learned and cannot be worked at yet is in humans is called nature; what can be learned and can be done and can be worked at and accomplished in humans is called artifice.” This shows that “nature” is instinct, while civilization is “artifice” (with the radical for person plus the radical for doing; what is done by humans is called artifice); nature and artifice conflict from the beginning, hence he believed human nature is evil (“Human nature is evil; what is good is artifice”). The role of the sage lies in “transforming nature and raising artifice, thereby producing ritual and propriety; when ritual and righteousness arise, standards and laws are established.” Also, “Correct Naming, Chapter Twenty-Two”: “That by which life is as it is is called nature.” p. 399.
Reveries of the Solitary Walker, (France) Jean-Jacques Rousseau, translated by Xu Jiceng, Shanghai Sanlian Bookstore, September 2014, 1st edition, p. 68. Though Rousseau had this awakening in his later years, once the arrow has left the bow, the past cannot be remonstrated—if he wished to make peace with everyone, could he obtain it? He himself also knew it was unobtainable! This spiritual predicament can be seen in the translator’s preface.
Laozi, Chapter Two, translated and annotated by Tang Zhangping and Wang Chaohua, Zhonghua Book Company, July 2014, 1st edition, p. 8.
The Shadow of Persona, Qi Yeying, Peking University Press, October 2007, 1st edition, p. 41. Cited from The Second Half of Shen Congwen’s Life, Zhang Xinying, Guangxi Normal University Press, January 2015, 1st edition, 3rd printing, pp. 18–20.
Cited from The Second Half of Shen Congwen’s Life, Zhang Xinying, Guangxi Normal University Press, January 2015, 1st edition, 3rd printing, pp. 18–20.
Records of the Grand Historian, p. 2187.
The Second Half of Shen Congwen’s Life, pp. 18, 24.
Inferiority and Beyond, p. 41.
Nineteen Minutes, [USA] Jodi Picoult, Yan Xiangru, Nanhai Publishing Company, May 2012, 1st edition.
A Critical Biography of Zweig: The Echo of a Great Soul, Zhang Yushu, Higher Education Press, January 2007, 1st edition, p. 437.
The Shadow of Persona, p. 43.
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