SOURCE: Brandauer, Frederick P. “Women in the Ching‐hua yüan: Emancipation toward a Confucian Ideal.” Journal of Asian Studies 36, no. 4 (August 1977): 647‐60.

[In the following revised essay, originally presented in 1975, Brandauer warns against judging Li Ju‐chen's treatment of women in his novel according to the ideals of modern Western feminism.]

The Ching‐hua yüan,¹ the work of vernacular fiction by Li Ju‐chen (ca. 1763‐1830) shows remarkable diversity in both narrative content and purpose. Critics have observed that it is encyclopedic in scope,² and suggested that it reflects the wide range of interests and activities prevalent among scholars in early nineteenth‐century China.³ The author's intention has been variously interpreted as private entertainment,⁴ display of erudition,⁵ or social criticism.⁶ In his recent anthology of Chinese popular fiction and drama, H. C. Chang⁷ gives us what may be the most succinct statement of this diversity when he describes the work as “an inimitable blend of mythology and adventure story, fantasy and allegory, satire and straight instruction, throughout informed with learning and sustained by wit, with an admixture of games and puzzles for the unhurried reader.” Nevertheless, when taken as a whole, the Ching‐hua yüan [hereafter CHY] does contain certain prominent themes, chief among which is the place of women.

THE PLACE OF WOMEN

There is much to suggest that the CHY is primarily a work about women. Even casual familiarity with its content reveals the dominance of feminine involvement. Either directly or indirectly, women precipitate all the major action; frequently, they are the only participants. Furthermore, when the work is taken as a whole, the concerns and activities of a band of superior women provide the single most important unifying element in its plot.

The story is set during the time of China's one and only woman sovereign, Empress Wu Tse‐t'ien, who usurped the T'ang throne and for twenty years ruled under a dynasty of her own creation called the Chou. The empress, given a fictional role, significantly assumes a central place in the novel's narrative. It is she who orders the hundred flowers to bloom in winter, causing their spirits to be banished from the celestial realm and incarnated in the human world as talented girls. It is she who strips T'ang Ao of his coveted t'an‐hua title, reducing him to a lowly hsiu‐ts'ai,⁸ so that in frustration and despair he sets out on his well‐known journey to foreign lands. It is she who orders the holding of examinations for women, which leads to the grand gathering of candidates in the capital. Finally, it is she who is overthrown by T'ang loyalists in the four celebrated attacks on passes outside of Ch'ang‐an.⁹

Although nearly all major action is generated by Empress Wu, she herself rarely appears in the story. The ongoing narrative involves mainly others, yet here also women dominate. Women are the chief characters—sometimes the only characters—in long portions of the work. For example, all important characters introduced in the first six chapters are women. The grand party on K'un‐lun Mountain is held in honor of the Queen Mother of the West on her birthday, and nearly all fairies and spirits who attend are women. The Star of Literature even changes himself into a woman for the occasion. Then when the scene shifts to earth and the setting is the court of Empress Wu, the action centers on the empress and her famous lady attendant, the brilliant Shang‐kuan Wan‐erh. After the empress institutes special examinations (chapters 41‐42), the thrust of the narrative is toward the assembling of the one hundred candidates who are, of course, all women; and in the lengthy accounts of celebrations following success in the examinations, all significant participants are women.

There are only two major portions in which the chief characters are men: the story of T'ang Ao and his journey (chapters 7‐40), and the account of the attack on the four passes (chapters 96‐100). And even here, women play a conspicuous and often indispensable role. When T'ang Ao sets out for foreign lands, he does so with the avowed purpose of rescuing twelve lost flowers. As he travels along, equipped with flowerpots, to his surprise he discovers these flowers one by one in incarnated form of talented girls. In each case, the girl assumes a central place in the supporting narrative. As for the episodes of the final chapters, although the attack on the passes is led by men, women always take an active part alongside their husbands and fellow T'ang loyalists.

The main unifying element throughout the work's narrative structure is immediately suggested by the title, which may be translated as “The Destinies of the Mirrored Flowers.” From beginning to end, the work is in fact the story of the hundred flowers (the girls). They are first shown in their celestial setting; this is followed by an account of their disruption of the harmony of the seasons, and their subsequent banishment into the stream of human life. Those in foreign lands are then either sent or brought back to China by T'ang Ao or his daughter. Eventually the flowers are united once again, given an opportunity to demonstrate their talents through the examinations, and in the end allowed to confirm their loyalties by participation in the pro‐T'ang military campaigns. Regardless of how one may choose to outline the work's narrative structure,¹⁰ its overall unity can be seen only in terms of the lives of these girls. There is no way, for instance, to relate T'ang Ao's journey meaningfully to either what precedes or what follows it except through reference to his rescue of the lost flowers.

As a work about women, the CHY may be compared with two earlier well‐known examples of vernacular fiction. It appears that Li Ju‐chen was in some ways trying to model his work on the Hung‐lou meng, for there is striking similarity in the content of the prologues to the two works. Both refer to women with superior qualities and achievements, and both express concern lest such women sink into oblivion and be forgotten. Moreover, the stated purpose for what follows is in each case that a record should be made of the lives of these outstanding women so that the memory of them may be preserved. Li's prologue actually contains whole phrases lifted straight out of the Hung‐lou meng prologue;¹¹ Li must have intended that his work be identified, in purpose if not in content, with the earlier work. Indeed, insofar as the Hung‐lou meng praises Chinese women, the CHY is similar to it. Yet the two differ sharply in story content: the domestic context that so characterizes and permeates the earlier work rarely appears in the CHY.

It appears that Li Ju‐chen was also trying to write a work in direct contrast to the Shui‐hu chuan, for there are obvious points of similarity and difference that can hardly be coincidental. Each is the story of a group of spirits who take on human form (in the Shui‐hu chuan, 108 evil spirits released from captivity on Lung‐hu Mountain; in the CHY, the hundred flower spirits) and become heroes/heroines. And the narrative pattern that emerges is essentially the same: at first there is a dispersal of the group, then the superior nature of individuals in the group is shown, with movement toward and eventual culmination in a grand gathering of the group. Finally, there is another dispersal, with many of the individuals participating in military campaigns.¹² Similar though the two works are, there is an obvious contrast: in the Shui‐hu chuan, members of the heroic band are all men, while in the CHY they are all women. This involves much more than a simple distinction in sexual identity. The Shui‐hu chuan is well known for what C. T. Hsia¹³ calls its “pronounced streak of misogyny.” Women do not often appear in it; but when they do, they are usually presented as evil, treacherous, and deserving of punishment. Hsia writes: “With them, deceit and cruelty are means to sexual fulfillment. And the nemesis, honorable heroes all, hate them for that itching after pleasure, that craving for life; they sacrifice them so that the heroic code may endure.”¹⁴ In the Shui‐hu chuan, women are often brutally punished for their misdeeds;¹⁵ and the general image projected is one of women as an inferior and dangerous sex. Li Ju‐chen, as a confirmed philogynist, seems to be consciously reacting against this, in choosing to feature a group of females in his story, and exalting that sex by deliberately focusing on their noble qualities and achievements.

All of this leads to important questions about the nature and significance of the place of women in the CHY. My intention in this paper is to suggest that much of the work promotes a freeing of women from conditions that hinder the realization of their true potential and that limit their opportunity for self‐fulfillment. In short, the work promotes an emancipation of women. This, however, must not be understood to be of the sort we might advocate today; rather, it is emancipation conceived within a traditional Chinese context very clearly defined by an early Confucian ideal of womanhood. Li Ju‐chen first presents his ideal, then in a variety of ways develops his theme of emancipation around it. This understanding of the author's purpose necessarily leads to the conclusion that he was dissatisfied with the prevailing conditions and treatment of women, that he desired change. Yet, in motivation and outlook, he was always distinctively Confucian.

THE CONFUCIAN IDEAL

The governing feminine ideal is stated in the prologue of the CHY. In view of its importance to the position taken in this paper, a full translation of the prologue follows:

In former times, Dame Ts'ao,¹⁶ in her Admonitions for Women (Nü chieh),¹⁷ said: “Women have four behavioral characteristics (hsing): 1) feminine virtue, 2) feminine speech, 3) feminine bearing, and 4) feminine tasks.”¹⁸ These four are the principal goals for women and are indispensable. Now in beginning this work, why do I take Pan Chao's Admonitions for Women as an introduction? It is because what this book contains, though but trivial matters of the women's quarters and casual affections between men and women, certainly resembles what Dame [Ts'ao] called the “four behavioral characteristics.” Clearly there have been women who have not only had the finest natural dispositions but have been pure in mind as well. How could they have come to this unless daily they had reverently followed the Admonitions for Women and respectfully adhered to wise instructions? And how can we cause all these to vanish without a trace just because the events [of their lives] become distant and unclear or because among them there are both the beautiful and the ugly? Therefore, by lamplight and on moonlit nights, during long summers and in lingering winters, I have moistened my brush, played with my ink and have assembled [materials about these women] into a compilation. Wherein they have been worthy, I have displayed them; wherein inferior, I have humbled them. Women are shown to be women and wives to be wives. That which is constant is made to be constant; that which changes, made to change. Although what is narrated approaches the frivolous, yet in summation the work returns to what is proper. Obscene words and filthy speech have generally not been recorded. All that is strange and imaginary in it begins with the banishment of the beautiful flowers. Try reading the first chapter and you will get a general understanding of this.¹⁹

Li Ju‐chen was following well‐established precedent when he turned back to the Han dynasty to find his feminine ideal; and it is not surprising that he should look to Pan Chao, who has been called the foremost woman scholar of China.²⁰ In addition to her Admonitions, she also wrote memorials and fu and is believed to have had a hand in compiling the official history of the Former Han dynasty²¹—a highly talented woman of great learning and literary accomplishment.

Ever since the Han dynasty, Pan Chao's Admonitions has been used as a basic text in the education of Chinese girls;²² it presents the feminine ideal in terms of a system of Confucian ethical norms. It consists of an introduction followed by seven chapters. Chapter 4, entitled “Feminine Behavior,” may be taken as a summary of those norms; it is from this chapter that Li Ju‐chen draws the quotation in his prologue. The purpose of the work is to instruct women on how they may best fulfill themselves according to the role defined for them by Confucian society. The work is addressed to women, was written to be read by women, and was intended primarily for the benefit of women. Humility is seen as the foremost feminine virtue; and it is assumed that women will demonstrate acquisition of this within the context of marriage. Thus, three chapters deal specifically with a wife's relations to her husband and her husband's family. Practical suggestions are offered on how the ideal may be achieved. Of special significance here is Pan Chao's proposal for a system of basic education for women.

Although Li Ju‐chen makes an overt appeal to the Pan Chao ideal in his prologue, one may question the extent to which this prologue is a reliable statement of his true intentions. Was it written as a genuine expression of his purpose, or merely because he wanted to satisfy the demands of an accepted literary convention? Most critics have apparently not taken the prologue very seriously, for they either ignore it entirely or mention it only in passing.²³ For example, Hu Shih, in his informative and provocative introduction to the CHY,²⁴ surprisingly fails to mention the prologue at all. Others at least refer to its content, but only to show the similarity to the Hung‐lou meng.²⁵ The appeal to Pan Chao's Confucian ideal is consistently disregarded.

There is surely no reason why the prologue, as prologue, should necessarily condition our understanding of the work; it is the work itself which must finally provide the basis for any convincing interpretation. Nevertheless, a responsible critic will not ignore an author's statements about his own work. These should be examined carefully and then judged against a knowledge of the contents of the work. In the case of the CHY, there is convincing evidence to suggest that Li Ju‐chen meant his prologue to be taken quite seriously, that in fact it provides a sound basis for interpreting the place of women in his work.

For example, there is in the CHY at least one more important supportive reference to the Pan Chao ideal. In chapters 16‐18, T'ang Ao and his companion To Chiu‐kung (the old scholarly helmsman of merchant Lin Chih‐yang's boat) suffer agonizing humiliation at the hands of two teen‐age girls named T'ing‐t'ing and Hung‐hung. The girls—who later turn out to be among the twelve lost flowers—live in the Country of Black‐toothed People (Hei‐ch'ih kuo), where all inhabitants have black faces and red eyebrows. Although physically unattractive to the visitors from China, these people value scholarship above all else and have a system of education for both boys and girls. During a visit to a girls' academy, T'and and To get themselves involved in a long discussion with the two girls, who are students there. Many subjects are covered, including obscure problems involving historical phonology and fine points of interpretation from various passages in the classics. The visitors soon find themselves thoroughly outmatched intellectually, and repeatedly shamed by the superior knowledge of the girls. When To is unable to support his own statement that there are more than ninety‐three commentaries to the Yi ching, he becomes speechless, his face turns bright red, and sweat pours from his head. Observing his discomfort, a deaf old man from the academy offers him the use of a fan; upon leaving, To absentmindedly takes the fan with him. Later, when the men return to their ship and have a chance to look at it closely, they discover—to their surprise—that written on one side of it, in Hung‐hung's handwriting, is the entire text of Pan Chao's Admonitions; on the other side, in T'ing‐t'ing's handwriting, is a verse called the “Hsüan‐chi t'u,” a palindrome by Su Wei, a talented woman of the Former Ch'in period (351‐394).²⁶ Clearly the fan represents the author's conception of the ideal woman, with one side offering a statement of the ideal, and the other, an example of its manifestation—Pan Chao's work providing the ideal, Su Wei's palindrome showing what a woman achieving this can produce. Significantly, the fan belongs to the two charming and talented flower girls, who in nearly all respects are living embodiments of the ideal. The obvious symbolism in this episode reinforces the view that we are to take the CHY prologue seriously.

Thus Li Ju‐chen begins his work by exalting the Pan Chao ideal, and much of what follows in the novel may be seen as an effort to further an emancipation of women toward that ideal. This is revealed generally through the narrative, and specifically by the content of Empress Wu's twelve decrees for women. Furthermore, as I shall now proceed to demonstrate, it is supported by three recurrent themes: a general concern for women's welfare, a stress on the importance of marriage, and the advocacy of education and a system of examinations for women.

A CONCERN FOR WOMEN'S WELFARE

If women are to achieve their potential as defined by the Confucian ideal upheld in the prologue, they must be freed from certain physical hindrances. Consistent with this, there is in the novel a persistent concern for the general welfare of women.

I have already pointed out that the specific purpose of T'ang Ao's journey is to rescue twelve lost flower girls, and that this is part of the larger narrative structure which moves from an initial gathering of the girls in the heavenly realm through their dispersal by banishment and incarnation and toward their reunion at the capital for the imperial examinations. The examinations are particularly important, since it is through them that the girls convincingly demonstrate their intellectual talents. T'ang Ao finds the lost girls and makes it possible for them, by one means or another, to get to China—thus removing the primary obstacle to their success, their physical distance from China. Underlying this there is, of course, a strong Sino‐centric view of the world, a view which permeates the entire work. Even though aspects of life in the foreign lands visited are often held up for praise, and though the contrast between these lands and China frequently becomes the means for satiric attack on evils in Chinese society, it is always assumed that foreign lands are essentially inferior to China. If a woman is to achieve the full and true potential of her sex, she must do so in China.

Most of the twelve girls are also freed from more pressing difficulties than their geographic distance from China. As H. C. Chang points out, some are young ladies in distress; others must endure physical hardships brought on by forced exile; and one suffers from a strange and seemingly incurable illness.²⁷ The point is that in each case T'ang Ao and his companions find solutions for these problems, and their actions result in a form of female emancipation.

In chapter 40, as part of the general celebration in honor of her seventieth birthday, Empress Wu issues twelve decrees intended to bring benefits to women. Although the decrees are all purely fictional, within the context of the novel they are presented as unprecedented in Chinese history; this is explained in light of the fact that China never before had a woman sovereign.²⁸ All twelve decrees support Pan Chao's ideal in one way or another, and six of them specifically stress long life and physical well‐being for women.²⁹ Female longevity is to be officially honored: “Inasmuch as longevity is the first of the five blessings,³⁰ any woman who has reached the age of seventy and whose family background is unimpeachable shall be given an honorary plaque of longevity” (Decree no. 4). Institutions are to be set up for the care of impoverished old women: “Now therefore the empress orders that commanderies and districts in the empire establish ‘Homes for Old Women,’ and any woman who is over forty years of age, without means for clothing and food, or who is crippled, or sick, or poor and without a place to go, may register her name and enter such a home and be supported by the government until she dies” (Decree no. 6).

Similar institutions are to be set up for young girls from impoverished families who—through lack of food, clothing, or medical treatment—would be abandoned by the roadside, sent into convents, or sold to be actresses: “The empress now orders commanderies and districts to establish ‘Homes for Girls,’ and young girls between infancy and the teen‐age years, whether sick or disabled, if poor and without support, shall be permitted to enter such homes where nurses shall be provided for their care” (Decree no. 7). Widows with no means of support, regardless of whether or not they have children, are to be given a monthly government pension (Decree no. 8). In recognition of the lack of special medical care for women and the consequent heavy loss of life among women and children, gynecology clinics are to be set up throughout the empire: “The empress now orders that officials in all commanderies and districts of the empire visit famous doctors and arrange for the setting up of women's clinics, at appropriate distances from each other; moreover prescriptions shall be issued based on the experiences of imperial doctors and these shall be filled with the proper medicines which shall then be dispensed according to the illness” (Decree no. 10). Women are even to be buried at government expense when necessary: “The empress now orders that if upon the death of a woman, a poor family does not have the means to provide her a coffin, local officials shall investigate the matter and, if truly impoverished, the family shall be provided with a coffin for her burial” (Decree no. 11).

The range of problems considered and the nature of the solutions proposed are remarkable, and indicate the extent of Li Ju‐chen's social awareness as well as the strength of his dedication to women's welfare. Through Empress Wu's decrees, Li Ju‐chen advocates for women a kind of cradle‐to‐grave social security that would guarantee the most basic emancipation necessary for a broadly based movement toward the feminine ideal.

Probably the best‐known chapters in the CHY are those that tell of the visit of T'ang Ao and his companions to the Country of Women (Nü‐erh kuo).³¹ Here sexual roles are reversed, and the distortion created makes possible some of the best satire in all of Chinese literature. When the merchant Lin Chih‐yang takes his wares to the royal palace, the “king” (a woman) falls in love with him and proceeds to install him as her “queen.” We see here what Hu Shih calls “the process of ‘womanizing’ a man.”³² Lin is first bathed, perfumed, and dressed in women's clothes; then his ears are pierced; and finally his feet are bound. Li Ju‐chen describes in great detail the awful footbinding process, with its accompanying pain and agony, yet surprisingly he never openly advocates abolition of this custom. For example, there is no mention of footbinding in Empress Wu's decrees, and Li himself elsewhere makes it clear that his talented girls all have beautiful bound feet.³³ I suggest that this seeming incongruity simply indicates that at times Li was unable or unwilling to disassociate himself from the prevailing social customs and verbal conventions of his time. Nevertheless, the satiric attack on footbinding is overwhelming, and must surely be understood in the overall context of the novel's purpose as part of Li's general concern for an emancipation of women. After all, his feminine ideal was drawn out of Han Confucianism, and this did not include bound feet.³⁴

THE IMPORTANCE OF MARRIAGE

Pan Chao's ideal assumed that women were to find their place through marriage; thus, the Admonitions was written especially for brides, and was intended primarily as instruction on how best to get along in the various relationships connected with marriage. Consistent with this, we find that throughout the CHY it is taken for granted that one of the chief goals for women is marriage. T'ang Ao repeatedly shows concern for his daughter Hsiao Shan's marriage and the marriages of other flower girls he meets. Although Hsiao Shan is not actually married until the end of the story (and then it is through a match arranged by her younger brother), while on his trip T'ang Ao always seems to have clearly in mind his responsibility to find her a good husband. Furthermore, when T'ang Ao rescues the lost girls, he does so partly in order that they may be free to be suitably matched. When possible, he arranges marriages himself; otherwise it is assumed that when the girls get to China, worthy mates will be found for them.

No less than seven of Empress Wu's decrees for women stress the importance of marriage and the need for virtuous conduct expressed through relationships connected with it.³⁵ Since filial piety is to be directed toward her husband's family as well as a woman's own family, honorary plaques shall be given all women who have “demonstrated filial conduct either while at home in honoring their parents or after marriage in honoring their parents‐in‐law, and whose reputation for virtue is well known in the women's quarters” (Decree no. 1). Even more important than filial piety is harmony and affection among sisters‐in‐law: “If there are wives of brothers who can be on friendly terms and sisters‐in‐law who are of the same mind, and if these show mutual respect and give mutual admonition, thereby fulfilling the way of sisterly love, they shall be investigated and also given special decorations” (Decree no. 2). Chastity and fidelity are seen as paramount virtues governing a woman's relationship to her husband: “All women shall be given special honors who heretofore have kept themselves pure either by steadfastly remaining faithful [to deceased husbands] or by dying as martyrs when defiled against their will” (Decree no. 3).

The assumption throughout the decrees is that without a chance to marry, a woman is deprived of the means for finding her place in life. Thus, palace ladies are to be released after five years, so that husbands may be found for them; and maid servants throughout the entire empire are to be set free when they pass the age of twenty, so that either their parents or their masters may arrange marriages for them (Decree no. 5).³⁶ Young girls raised in government “Homes for Girls” shall at the age of twenty “be given money for a dowry, and the government shall arrange for their marriages” (Decree no. 7). In order to prevent impoverished families from selling their daughters to be concubines or prostitutes, “the empress orders that an investigation be made, and if there are any girls of twenty who come from families really so poor that marriage cannot be arranged for lack of means to provide the trousseau, such girls shall be given funds for a trousseau and marriages shall be arranged for them” (Decree no. 9). Finally, ancestral halls for women are to be set up throughout the empire, so that good women may be honored not only in their lifetime but also after death: “Any woman who has been faithful and filial, regardless of whether or not she has been honored during her life, shall, upon her death and after investigation by local officials, be accepted for inclusion in such an Ancestral Hall; and officials shall offer sacrifices to her during the two seasons of spring and autumn” (Decree no. 12).

Significantly, it is not some general notion of marriage that is projected here; it is quite specifically the kind of Confucian marriage of the Pan Chao ideal. Pan Chao presented her picture of the model bride in terms of three relationships: 1) to her husband, 2) to her parents‐in‐law, and 3) to her brothers‐ and sisters‐in‐law.³⁷ In her Admonitions, chastity and fidelity are given as the operative concepts in the relationship to the husband; filial piety and obedience are the signs of the ideal relationship to parents‐in‐law. Pan Chao wrote: “Let a woman not act contrary to the wishes and the opinions of parents‐in‐law about right and wrong; let her not dispute with them what is straight and what is crooked.”³⁸ As for relations with family members of the same generation, the entire seventh chapter of the Admonitions is devoted to the need for harmony with younger brothers‐ and sisters‐in‐law. In reference to marriage and the proper relationships involved, Empress Wu's decrees are in full support of the Pan Chao feminine ideal.

Both T'ang Ao's efforts and Empress Wu's decrees represent attempts to emancipate women toward an ideal of marriage; and as the CHY progresses, it becomes apparent that the flower girls are the embodiments of the ideal. The second half of the work is filled with their arranged marriages; and toward the end, most of them show their devotion to their husbands by active support in the military campaigns. To confirm their eternal conjugal fidelity, six of them³⁹ even commit suicide when their husbands die.

EDUCATION FOR WOMEN

The CHY advocates education for women; in this also, it supports the Pan Chao ideal. In the second chapter of the Admonitions, Pan Chao writes:

Yet only to teach men and not to teach women—is that not ignoring the essential relation between them? According to the “Rites,” it is the rule to begin to teach children to read at the age of eight years, and by the age of fifteen years they ought to be ready for cultural training. Only why should it not be [that girls' education as well as boys' be] according to this principle?⁴⁰

This passage occurs in the context of a discussion on the proper relationship between husband and wife. Basic to Pan Chao's views was the idea that the relationship reflects the dual cosmic forces of yin and yang; husband and wife should complement one another, and together ideally should reflect the harmony of the entire universe. Since the relationship is complementary, if it is necessary to train men to fulfill the yang function, it must be just as necessary to train women to fulfill the yin function. Therefore education for women should not be neglected.

What is referred to here is a kind of basic education for children from the ages of eight to fifteen. It was assumed in Han times that boys would be so educated; what Pan Chao was advocating was that girls should receive such education as well. However, in Han times there was also a higher form of classical education offered after the age of fifteen; yet Pan Chao nowhere suggests that this too should be open to girls. Pan Chao herself must have received the classical education, otherwise she certainly could not have written what she did. Without a firm grounding in the classics, she could hardly have been of much help to her brother in compiling the Han history. Yet she did not assume that those advantages that had been hers should be extended to other girls. Li Ju‐chen simply takes Pan Chao's principle of the need for women's education and does what Pan Chao herself failed to do: he carries the principle to its logical conclusion. If basic education is important for women, then the classical education is also important; if a system of examinations and degrees to show proficiency in the classics is useful for men, then it must also be useful for women.

Thus, in chapter 42 we have the fictional account of Empress Wu instituting a system of examinations for women corresponding at all levels to the system for men, and including a set of parallel degrees and titles to be conferred upon successful women candidates. The examinations make it possible for Li Ju‐chen to demonstrate the full intellectual, literary, and cultural potential of his band of ideal women. They are also central to the work's narrative structure, for they provide the means for bringing the one hundred flowers together again. Important here, however, is the fact that the examination system for women is separate from the one for men. The empress does not open up the traditional male system for female participation, but rather sets up a parallel system for women. It is true that the subjects covered are the traditional ones, yet the separate nature of the two systems suggests that Li Ju‐chen's perspective is once again rooted in the Pan Chao ideal with its assumption of complementary sex roles.

The separate nature of the two systems implies a separate purpose for each, and this is supported by the narrative. When the one hundred flower girls take the examinations, every girl passes. This is followed by the appropriate conferral of honors, titles, and degrees, together with the customary feasting and celebration. At this point, however, despite Empress Wu's pronouncements regarding Heaven's bestowal of natural talent on both men and women,⁴¹ Li Ju‐chen does not have his girls enter the same kind of government service as men. With the exception of Yin Jo‐hua—who is summoned back to the Country of Women to become “king” there—and the three girls she takes along with her, none of the graduates are given external posts. Assignments for women are all within the palace. Here Li Ju‐chen again seems to be influenced by Pan Chao; however, this time the model comes not from her writings but from her own life and career. Presumably, Li's girls are educated and given degrees so that they can serve their sovereign exactly as Pan Chao herself did—from inside the palace. Yet the separate nature of sex roles is maintained in the fact that nowhere in the CHY are women placed in a situation of institutionalized competition with men. They do not compete with men in the examinations nor do they compete with men for official appointment.

One could ask how Wu Tse‐t'ien fits into this scheme—for here, after all, is a woman who has taken over the supreme male role in Chinese society; Li deliberately set his story in the time of Empress Wu, and she is indispensable in the narrative. Still, there is an ambivalent attitude toward her throughout the work: although she is presented as woman's great benefactor, at the same time she is always regarded as a usurper who rightfully must be overthrown. At the beginning of the story, she is introduced as an incarnation of the evil spirit of the Heart‐moon Fox set loose against the House of T'ang to avenge wrongs committed against Emperor Yang‐ti of the Sui. Although her place is central to the basic structure of the work, she is not actually held up as an exemplar for women. All the flower girls are on the side of the T'ang loyalists, and in the end many take an active part in defeating her.

CRITIQUE OF A CONTEMPORARY VIEW

There has been a trend among recent critics to interpret the CHY with reference to the ideals and goals of the modern feminist movement. Two of Hu Shih's early studies have done much to encourage this: His 1923 “Ching‐hua yüan te yin‐lun” (Introduction to the CHY) first provides important information on Li Ju‐chen's life, phonological system, and personality, and then offers his views on the place of women in the CHY. We are told that it “discusses the question of women”;⁴² that Li had discovered that in several thousand years of Chinese history this question had been neglected, and that his answer to it was that “men and women should receive equal treatment, equal education, and equal opportunities for selection.”⁴³ To support his equal treatment theory, Hu Shih cites examples of satire involving women—such as the “womanization” process in the Country of Women, and the scolding given the bandit chief by his wife in the Two‐faced Country.⁴⁴ To support his equal education theory, he cites the education of women in the Black‐toothed Country and Empress Wu's new examination system. And to support his equal selection theory he cites Empress Wu's pronouncements and the honors, degrees, and titles for women in the new system. He ends his study by predicting that Li Ju‐chen's ideas will “certainly occupy a glorious place in the history of women's rights in China.”⁴⁵ In 1924, Hu Shih published an article in English under the title “A Chinese Declaration of the Rights of Women,”⁴⁶ which is essentially a summary of the last part of his “Introduction.”

Hu Shih's views have had a great impact on those who followed. Lu Hsün, in his well‐known Chung‐kuo hsiao‐shuo shih‐lüeh (Brief history of Chinese fiction),⁴⁷ quotes and apparently accepts Hu Shih's statement on Li Ju‐chen's purpose. Nancy Swann also quotes Hu Shih and then adds the following on Li Ju‐chen: “This bold advocate of woman's education and political rights is a worthy forerunner of the hundreds of young men and women in China who today are striving for the equality of the sexes in education and politics as well as in the home.”⁴⁸ Lin Yutang includes the CHY in his study “Feminist Thought in Ancient China.”⁴⁹ In the introduction to her translation, Lin Tai‐yi⁵⁰ says that Li Ju‐chen “was a champion of equal rights for women at a time when feudal society forbade Chinese women to mingle with men or share their activities, and Flowers in the Mirror is, indeed, a strong plea for recognition of the equality of men and women.” Two mainland critics, Li Ch'ang‐chih⁵¹ and Hsü Shih‐nien,⁵² seem prepared to go along with Hu Shih in his equality theories, although the former denounces him for failing to see the work in the broader perspective of an anti‐feudalism struggle. An article on Li Ju‐chen's thoughts on sexual equality was published in a Taiwan journal in 1972, but the author offered little more than a restatement of Hu Shih's ideas.⁵³ In a recent bibliography on women in traditional China, we again hear the echo of Hu Shih when we read that Li Ju‐chen was “an early champion of equal rights for women.”⁵⁴

If we accept Hu Shih's views, we cannot escape the conclusion that there is a serious contradiction in the CHY, for much of the work clearly does not promote sexual equality. Nancy Evans is aware of this; in her paper on the work as an example of social criticism in the Ch'ing, she notes that Li fails to “sift to the bottom.”⁵⁵ Several of Empress Wu's decrees “would seem designed to continue the sexual inequality of women”; and in decisions concerning marriage, there is no suggestion of equality at all. Furthermore, although all the talented women pass the examinations, “Li Ju‐chen does not have the empress choose any female officials from their ranks to be empowered to act on an equal footing with scholar‐officials.” Since, however, Evans assumes that Hu Shih's interpretation is correct, she can only conclude that Li suffers from the “effect of conditioning” and that his work fails to “present a completely revolutionary vision.”

But must we accept Hu Shih's interpretation? The CHY does deal with the “question of women,” but does it actually promote sexual equality and equal rights for women? It is one thing to point out that Li Ju‐chen attacks the evils of foot‐binding or concubinage, but it is something quite different to suggest that he advocates equality for men and women. His new examination system for women does not really support an equal education theory, for it is a separate system for women. And just because women graduates receive titles, honors, and degrees does not mean that they are to have equal rights in the political selection process.

What Hu Shih and his followers fail to recognize is that the CHY is projected against a Confucian ideal for women. Li Ju‐chen does advocate a kind of feminine emancipation, but it is always toward that particular ideal. He is keenly concerned with women's welfare and the possibility of women fulfilling themselves through education and examinations; in this, his work represents a kind of “enlightened” nineteenth‐century Confucianism. The word revolutionary, however, hardly applies here: Li found his ideal by reaching backward in history all the way to the Han dynasty; and since the ideal is Confucian, the notion of sexual equality is quite foreign to it. The CHY was written as a grand eulogy of Chinese womanhood; in it the Chinese woman is elevated to what may well be her highest level in all of traditional Chinese literature. But it does not advocate a modern kind of women's liberation. Hu Shih and his followers have seen the emphasis on emancipation, but have confused the Confucian ideal toward which this moves with the fairly recent idea of sexual equality.

We may not agree with Li Ju‐chen's Confucian ideal, and its assumption of separate but complementary sexual roles may offend our sense of justice. We make a great mistake, however, if we project the standards of our modern feminist movement back into Li's work. It is unfair to attribute our own ideals to Li, only then to find it necessary to charge him with failure to be consistent with these. A proper interpretation and appreciation of the place of women in the Ching‐hua yüan requires that we begin by making a serious attempt to understand the work on its own terms.

Notes

1. Among readily available modern editions of the Ching‐hua yüan are: 1) Shanghai: Ya‐tung t'u‐shu kuan, 1930; 2) Peking: Tso‐chia ch'u‐pan she, 1955 (based on the text of the first printed edition of ?1828 now held by the library of Peking University); 3) Hongkong: Chung‐hua shu chü, 1965 (a photo‐reprint of the 1955 Tso‐chia edition). For this paper I have used the Hongkong reprint [hereafter CHY (H)]. There have been numerous translations of portions of the work, the best known being the one by Lin Tai‐yi under the title of Flowers in the Mirror (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1965). Although Lin covers the entire work, much is given in the form of brief synopsis rather than translation.

2. E.g., see Lu Hsün, Chung‐kuo hsiao‐shuo shih‐lüeh (Rpt. Hongkong: Hsin‐yi ch'u‐pan she, 1967), p. 267.

3. Hsü Shih‐nien sees a stimulus for interest in overseas countries coming from increased trade with the West, and also the influence of the Manchu literary inquisition leading to increased activity in textual studies; see “Lüeh‐t'an Ching‐hua yüan” in Chung‐kuo ku‐tien hsiao‐shuo p'ing‐lun chi (Peking: Pei‐ching ch'u‐pan she, 1957), p. 157. For a discussion of how the concept of physical immortality is reflected, see Ho Peng‐yoke and Yu Wang‐luen, “Physical Immortality in the Early Nineteenth‐Century Novel Ching‐hua‐yüan,” Oriens Extremus, XXI, 1 (1974), pp. 33‐51; and for a discussion of how knowledge of mathematics and science is reflected, see Yu Wang‐luen, “Knowledge of Mathematics and Science in Ching‐hua‐yüan,” Oriens Extremus, XXI, 2 (1974), pp. 217‐36.

4. C. T. Hsia distinguishes between scholar‐novelists who wrote primarily for private entertainment, (e.g., Wu Ch'eng‐en, Tung Yüeh, Hsia Ching‐ch'ü, Wu Ching‐tzu, Ts'ao Hsüeh‐ch'in, and Li Ju‐chen) and professional novelists who wrote primarily for commercial gain (e.g., Lo Kuan‐chung, Hsiung Ta‐mu, Feng Meng‐lung, and T'ien‐hua‐tsang Chu‐jen); see “The Scholar‐Novelist and Chinese Culture: A Study of Ching Hua Yuan,” Tamkang Review, V, 2 (Oct. 1974), pp. 2‐3.

5. Lu Hsün, in his Chung‐kuo hsiao‐shuo shih‐lüeh, discusses the CHY together with similar Ch'ing dynasty works written to “display erudition”; see chap. 25. T'an Cheng‐pi follows the same scheme of analysis in his Chung‐kuo hsiao‐shuo fa‐ta shih (1935; rpt. Taipei: Ch'i‐yeh shu chü, 1973); see chap. 7, part iii.

6. E.g., see Nancy J. F. Evans, “Social Criticism in the Ch'ing, the Novel Ching‐hua yüan,” Harvard Univ. East Asian Research Center Papers on China, 23 (1970), pp. 52‐66.

7. Chinese Literature, Popular Fiction and Drama (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Univ. Press and Chicago: Aldine, 1973), p. 405.

8. T'an‐hua was the title given the third‐ranked candidate in the palace examinations; hsiu‐ts'ai designates a graduate of the first‐level district examinations. In T'ang times there was a high‐level examination called hsiu‐ts'ai; but the context in which the term is used in the CHY indicates that, despite the T'ang setting, it is the later usage of the term that is meant.

9. For a translation of the episodes describing these attacks and a study of the allegory involved, see H. C. Chang, Allegory and Courtesy in Spenser, A Chinese View (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Univ. Press, 1955; rpt. Folcroft, Pa.: Folcroft Press, 1969). Chang has translated from the middle of chap. 96 through the middle of chap. 100.

10. For a critical review of four different approaches to the work's narrative structure, followed by an analysis based on Northrop Frye's concept of the “anatomy,” see Robert Nylander, “The Anatomy of Li Ru‐zhen's Jing‐hua‐yuan,” unpub. research paper, Univ. of Washington, 1974.

11. For example, the phrase li‐li yu jen (“clearly there are people”) used in reference to talented girls, and the phrase yi‐ping shih ch'i [CHY (H) reads chih] min mieh (“cause them all to vanish without a trace”) used in reference to forgetting such talented girls. See Ts'ao Hsüeh‐ch'in, Hung‐lou meng (rpt. Singapore: Shih‐chieh shu chü), p. 1; and see CHY (H), p. 1.

12. It is true that in chaps. 7‐40 of the CHY, the three male travelers (T'ang Ao, Lin Chih‐yang, and To Chiu‐kung) are given extensive narrative exposure, and it may be argued that the kind of comparison I am suggesting with the Shui‐hu chuan is therefore inappropriate. In the context of the plot of the entire novel, however, these chapters are an integral part of the ongoing story of the flower girls, designed to introduce twelve of the more important members of the group. Although the superior nature of the twelve girls is shown as they are discovered on the journey, it is not until after chap. 40 that they and the others prove their talents in the examinations. Only certain members of the group are developed as individual personalities (this is true also in the Shui‐hu chuan), and in most cases this occurs during the celebrations following the examinations.

13. The Classic Chinese Novel: A Critical Introduction (New York: Columbia Univ. Press, 1968), p. 105.

14. Ibid., p. 106.

15. Hsia cites (ibid., p. 106) Yen P'o‐hsi, P'an Chin‐lien, P'an Ch'iao‐yün, and the wife of Lu Chün‐yi as four “major examples of female wickedness,” and quotes a particularly gruesome account of torture and punishment from chap. 46.

16. That is, Pan Chao (born between A.D. 45 and 51), the wife of Ts'ao Shih‐shu, who after the death of her husband was invited by the emperor to serve in the palace as a tutor for women.

17. For a text of the original, see Hou Han shu (Po‐na ed.) [hereafter HHS], 84.6b‐13a, where it is given in Pan Chao's biography. There are several translations available, probably the best known being the one by Nancy Lee Swann, Pan Chao: Foremost Woman Scholar of China (New York: Century, 1932) [hereafter PC], pp. 82‐99.

18. HHS, 84.10a.

19. CHY (H), p. 1.

20. Note the full title of PC, Swann's book on her life and works.

21. Pan Chao was the daughter of Pan Piao and the sister of Pan Ku, author of the Han shu (the official history of the Former Han dynasty). Originally the work of compiling the history was begun by the father, but eventually the son inherited the work; he is known to have received considerable help from his sister. It is not clear just to what extent Pan Chao had a hand in actually writing the Han shu, though when her brother died she probably completed several unfinished sections of it and may even have edited or revised the entire work.

22. For a study of the traditional education of Chinese women, see Ida Belle Lewis, The Education of Girls in China (New York: Teachers College, Columbia Univ., 1919), pp. 7‐17.

23. A notable exception to this is C. T. Hsia (n. 4 above), p. 16; he quotes most of the prologue and makes use of it in his analysis.

24. “Ching‐hua yüan te yin‐lun” (orig. written 1923), incl. in Chung‐kuo chang‐hui hsiao‐shuo k'ao‐cheng (Dairen: Shih‐yeh yin‐shu kuan, 1943), pp. 513‐60.

25. See Hsü Shih‐nien (n. 3 above), p. 160; also Li Kuo, Ching‐hua yüan chien‐lun (Singapore: Ch'ing‐nien shu chü, n.d.), p. 12, where the relevant passage is identical with Hsü's work (true also of other long passages). Also see Evans (n. 6 above), p. 58.

26. Su Wei regained the admiration and affection of her alienated husband by weaving, on a piece of satin, a palindrome verse that contained 840 characters in over two hundred poems and could be read in any direction. It was called “Hsüan‐chi” (an ancient astronomical instrument) because of the shape of its design. For a reproduction of the palindrome, see CHY (H), p. 291; for a detailed explanation of its mysteries, see what follows it in chap. 41.

27. Note 7 above, p. 407. Those in distress are Lien Chin‐feng, Szu‐t'u Wu‐erh, Yao Chih‐hsing, Hsüeh Heng‐hsiang, and Yin Jo‐hua; those in forced exile are Lo Hung‐ch'ü, Wei Tzu‐ying, Hsü Li‐yung, and Yin Hung‐yü; the one who is ill is Chih Lan‐yin.

28. CHY (H), p. 284.

29. For the Chinese text of the decrees from which the quotations below are taken, see CHY (H), pp. 285‐87.

30. The five blessings are: shou (long life), fu (wealth), chien‐k'ang (health), hao‐te (love of virtue), and shan‐chung (natural death).

31. Chaps. 32‐37. The most recent and best translation is by H. C. Chang (n. 7 above), pp. 421‐66.

32. Hu Shih, “A Chinese Declaration of the Rights of Women,” The Chinese Social and Political Science Review, VIII, 2 (1924), pp. 105‐07; also his 1923 article (n. 24 above), pp. 536‐43.

33. For example, T'ing‐t'ing and Hung‐hung are described as having attractive eyes, hair, mouths, and “three inch lotuses”; CHY (H), p. 110. Also Yin Jo‐hua, who has been living in the Country of Women, has to have her feet bound when she goes to China; CHY (H), p. 258.

34. The practice of footbinding did not become widespread in China until the Sung dynasty; for a discussion of its “origins and presence,” see Howard S. Levy, Chinese Footbinding: The History of a Curious Erotic Custom (New York: Walton Rawls, 1966), pp. 37‐64.

35. For the Chinese text of the decrees, see CHY (H), pp. 285‐87.

36. According to the “Nei‐tse” of the ancient Confucian classic, the Li chi, “a girl marrys at twenty”; Legge (trans.), Li Ki, 10.2.37 (p. 479).

37. PC, p. 138.

38. HHS, 84.11b; for translation, see PC, p. 88.

39. Shao Hung‐ying, Tai Ch'iung‐ying, Lin Shu‐hsiang, Yang Mo‐hsiang, T'an Hui‐fang, and Yeh Ch'iung‐fang; CHY (H), p. 770.

40. HHS, 84.9a; for translation, see PC, pp. 84‐85. The reference to training at ages of 8 and 15 years is based on the detailed timetable for the training of children given in the “Nei‐tse” of the Li chi; Legge (trans.), Li Ki, 10.2.32‐37 (pp. 476‐79).

41. See CHY (H), pp. 308‐09.

42. Note 24 above, p. 531.

43. Ibid.

44. This occurs at the beginning of chap. 51; CHY (H), p. 373.

45. Note 24 above, p. 560.

46. See n. 32 above; this paper was first read before the Tientsin Rotary Club on 7 Feb. 1924.

47. Note 2 above, p. 265.

48. PC, p. 136; see also p. 94, n. 2 (last paragraph).

49. T'ien Hsia Monthly, I, 2 (Sept. 1935), pp. 127‐49.

50. Note 1 above, p. 7.

51. “Ching‐hua yüan shih‐lun,” Hsin chien‐she, 11 (Nov. 1955), pp. 55, 58.

52. See n. 3 above, pp. 161‐62.

53. Pao Chia‐lin, “Li Ju‐chen te nan‐nü p'ing‐teng szu‐hsiang,” Shih‐huo yüeh‐k'an, fu‐k'an, I, 12 (Mar. 1972), pp. 12‐21.

54. Marilyn B. Young (ed.), Women in China: Studies in Social Change and Feminism (Ann Arbor: Center for Chinese Studies, Univ. of Michigan, 1973), p. 246.

55. For this quotation and those that follow in this paragraph, see n. 6 above, pp. 62‐64.

This is the revised version of a paper presented at the 7th annual Conference on Chinese Oral and Performing Literature (CHINOPERL) held 22‐23 March 1975 at Stanford, Ca.