“On Wuxia”
by Gu Long
I’ve heard that Ni Kuang is getting ready to write A History of Chinese Wuxia Fiction1, and for a wuxia author this is really something worth being happy and excited about.
Wuxia fiction has been around for a long time, and it is has not been taken seriously for a long time as well. Now that someone is finally coming out to write a systematic account of this kind of fiction, it will have a place in the annals of fiction history. This undertaking is a grand event in the history of wuxia fiction; all authors of wuxia fiction ought to work together for this worthy project.
So I too can’t just stand back and watch the hunt and not join in. It’s just too bad I’m not as daring as Brother Ni Kuang, nor do I have his ability. I’m just offering my humble views on wuxia fiction based on my impressions and the little bit I’ve learned by writing it, but it’s not a formal account or serious criticism.
If it can be of interest to you, Gentle Readers, and can pave the way for Ni Kuang’s work, then I will be quite satisfied.
1
Regarding the origin of wuxia fiction, there are numerous arguments—since the Grand Historian’s Biographies of Wandering Xia, China has had wuxia fiction—of course that’s the most grand one, but not many accept that argument. Because wuxia stories are legends, if you insist on placing them on a par with the Grand Historian’s serious biographies, then you’re rather fooling yourself a bit.
It’s in the fictional records of men of the Tang dynasty that we first get stories closer to wuxia fiction.
In scroll five of A Cornucopia of Tang Fiction and Zhang Zhuo’s A Record of Things Seen and Heard, there is a story that is very “wuxia”:
At the end of the Sui, Zhuge An of Shenzhou was bold and forthright. Gao Zan of Bohai heard of him and went to see him, but only a chicken gizzard was prepared for their meal. Gao Zan didn’t think much of this, and the next day threw a big banquet and invited dozens of Zhuge Ang’s friends. There was boiled pork and mutton that were eight spans long, and a thin pancake that was a stave or more around, and the filling wrapped inside was as thick as a hall post. Plates and bowls of wine were distributed and Gao Zan personally performed the “Diamond Dance” for him. A few days later, Zhuge Ang invited Gao Zan and guests, over a hundred in number. It was a grand feast, with wine being served from carts and meat dishes served from horseback. Rice was hulled and meat chopped into fine slices with ground garlic and pickled vegetables. He sang the Yaksha song and performed a lion dance. The next day, Gao Zan held another banquet and boiled his twin ten-year old boys. When their heads and hands and feet were revealed, the guests became nauseated and vomitted. A few days later, Zhuge Ang gave another banquet in turn. First he had his lovely concubine serve wine. While doing so, she smiled for no reason. Zhuge Ang railed at her, and quickly had her steamed and brought out on a silver platter, stil wearing her makeup and splendid multicolored patterned robes. Then Zhuge Ang tore off some meat from her leg and ate it. When Gao Zan and the others saw this they covered their eyes, while Zhuge Ang continued feasting on the fatty meat of her breasts until he was full. Gao Zan felt ashamed and left that night in a hurry.
This story portrays Zhuge Ang and Gao Zan’s bold, wild brutality that people find unbelievable. This method of portrayal is already more brutal than portrayals in modern wuxia fiction.
But this story is fragmentary, it’s form is a far cry from fiction. In those days, folk fiction, legends, popular storytelling, and silverettes had many stories that are very “wuxia”, such as the box stealing Red Thread, the Kunlun slave, Miracle Hands Kongkong’er, and the Curly Bearded Stranger; these characters are already no different from the characters in modern wuxia fiction.
In wuxia fiction, the most important weapon is the sword. The depictions of swords, since the Tang dynasty, were much more magical than in modern wuxia fiction.
Red Thread and Great General Li’s swordsmanship was exaggerated nearly to the level of myth, but as for the legend of Mistress Gongsun, there’s no doubt that there’s a basis for it; it’s absolutely not just made up out of thin air.
Du Fu’s “On Seeing a Student of Mistress Gongsun Dance the ‘Sword Dance’” depicts the swordsmanship of Mistress Gongsun and her student, Mistress Li the Twelfth, and it’s very lifelike and vivid:
Once there was a fair woman, Gongsun by name,
once she danced the sword dance, she stirred the world around.
Those who watched were like hills, their color drained away,
as Earth and Heaven long rose and fell by her doing.
She flared as when Archer Yi shot the nine suns down,
soared upward like a host of gods circling with dragon teams.
She came like a peal of thunder withdrawing its rumbling rage,
then stopped like clear rays fixed on the river and sea.2
Du Fu was a poet, and though a poet’s descriptions unavoidably border on hyperbole, judging from Du Fu’s personality and his writing habits, even if he was exaggerating here, it wouldn’t be too far off the mark.
Moreover, the Tang dynasty calligrapher known as the “Master of Cursive”, Zhang Xu, once said of himself:
First I witnessed a noblewoman’s porters racing each other down the road and from that I obtained my concept of a brush method. Later I witnessed Lady Gongsun dancing the Jianqi and from that [my cursive script] gained its spirit.3
From this we can see that Mistress Gongsun was not only a real person, her swordsmanship must also have been really impressive—Sword Dance. Although it didn’t use a sword and was a dance, still, sword dances certainly count as a kind of swordplay. It’s just a shame later generations couldn’t see it.
So then, these examples show that the martial arts depicted in wuxia fiction is not completely unfounded. At least it’s not as preposterous as some “traditional defenders of the literary world” say it is.
These archaic legends and accounts, scattered here and there, are the genesis of wuxia fiction, and once transformed by folk tales, sung narratives, and oral storytellers, they gradually evolved into the form we know now know.
The Court Cases of Judge Peng, The Court Cases of Judge Shi, Seven Xia and Five Sworn Brothers, Younger Five Sworn Brothers, Three Xia Swordsman, etc., were all adapted from “oral storytellers” and can be considered the first batch of wuxia fiction that our generation came in contact with.
Seven Xia and Five Sworn Brothers was originally not seven xia but Four Xia and Five Sworn Brothers.4 Later, it went through revisions by literary master Mr. Yu Quyuan (Yue) and added Black Demon Fox Zhi Hua, Little Zhuge Shen Zhongyuan, and Little Xia Ai Hu, and it became the version we now know, and it’s been popular to this day. So, strictly speaking, Yu Quyuan is the senior of us “wuxia writers”.
Zhang Jiexin’s Three Xia Swordsmen was a relatively later work, so it’s closest in form to today’s wuxia fiction. The most important character in this work is “Gold Dart Sheng Ying”. His “Welcoming at the Gate”, “Head Toss”, and “Fish Scale Purple Gold Sabre” are all “world famous” weapons, but he it not the type of heroic character that people get excited about.
He’s too cautious, too afraid of getting in trouble, and he’s a bit cunning. His disciple, Huang Santai, has the same personality. by comparison, Shandong Dou Erdun, who was wounded by Huang Santai’s dart, is much more heroic than them, but Dou Erdun is later defeated by Huang Santai’s son, Huang Tianba.
Sheng Ying, Huang Santai, and Huang Tianba, are all heroes cut from the same cloth, but they aren’t really typical heroic characters.
Sheng Ying is the fourth disciples of “Swordsman” Ai Lianchi, but his martial arts is much worse than that of his fellow disciples. Not only is he not the equal of his First Brother, Xiahou Shangyuan, he’s also inferior to his fifth junior brother, Jiang Bofang, and his sixth junior brother, Ye Qianlong.
So I’ve never understood it, why did Zhang Jiexin write the heroes in his book this way. Only now do I understand. He was writing about his bottled-up pain.
In the social context of the late Qing dynasty, people were not encouraged to be heroes; only experienced, prudent gentlemen were generally regarded as praiseworthy.
Wuxia fiction is the same as other fiction in that it is influenced by societal norms, so it’s not hard to make out in wuxia fiction the backdrop of the times the authors was writing in.
Zhang Jiexin’s Three Xia Swordsmen not only has a sloppy structure, there are also too many characters. It’s can be considered a successful novel, because this novel was not plotted out in advance but was adapted from an “oral storyteller’s” notes that were referrred to when giving an oral storytelling performance. It responded to the demands of the audience and the owner of the establishment the story was told in. The story couldn’’t conclude, but had to be prolonged without restrictions until it inevitably turned into something too cumbersome to manage, to the point where it couldn’t even be wrapped up.
I mention this book in particular because almost all later wuxia novels suffered from this problem, character and plot development often straying far from the main thread. The two most obvious examples of this are the Unworthy Scholar of Pingjiang’s Marvelous Xia of the Jianghu and Huanzhu Louzhu’s Sword Xia of the Shu Mountains.
2
The Unworthy Scholar of Pingjiang and Huanzhu Louzhu were both gifted authors with broad literary talents and encyclopedic knowledge. Their works are discursive, arbitrary, magnificent, peculiar, and unpredictable.
Unworthy Scholar of Pingjiang, Xiang Kairan, is of the same generation as Marvelous Xia of Hunan Liu Senyan. it is said that his Marvelous Xia of the Jianghu is based on the legend of Liu Senyan and just exagerrated. Liu Chi, the disciple of the book’s protagonist, “Golden Arhat” Lü Xuanliang, is the embodiment of Liu Senyan.
But the story’s later development completely moved away from the main plot. The superb masters of the first part later become characters who collapse at the first blow, and many readers lose interest in the book after the firt half in the same way that some people only read the first 80 chapters of Dream of the Red Chamber or only read Romance of the Three Kingdoms until the dead Zhuge Liang scares off the living Sima Yi and then quit.
Because the later parts really are disappointing, but the first part is extraordinarily brilliant, to the point that you can read it over and over a hundred times without getting tired of it. So Marvelous Xia of the Jianghu not only caused a sensation in its day, it’s become an immortal classic among wuxia novels.
There are a lot of examples of famous works that are only brilliant in one half of the novel, such as Gulliver’s Travels and Flowers in the Mirror—what’s most marvelous about them is these two books share many similarities. The first half makes use of a fantasy kingdom to satirize the mordbid state of the current times and both the pitiable and ridiculous aspects of human nature.
In Gulliver’s Travels, there’s Brobdingnag and Lilliput, and in Flowers in the Mirror there’s the Nation of Gentlemen and the Nation of Girls. This wonderful coincidence is really very interesting, and from this we can see that Easterners’ and Westerners’ philosophical thinking is basically not that much different from each other. It’s just a shame that later readers are often only drawn to the entertainment and neglect the deeper meanings.
* * *
Sword Xia of the Shu Mountains’s structure is rather sloppy, but it’s interesting all the way through. Every character’s personality is consistent from beginning to end, every character’s background and martial arts is explained clearly, and the levels are differentiated clearly. Judging it purely as a wuxia novel, it’s without a doubt better than Marvelous Xia of the Jianghu.
Aside from it’s outstanding, lively characters, the descriptions of scenery are also superb. Its wonderful descriptions of traditional rooms and houses, the meticulous use of household utensils, and the details of food and drink have no equal anywhere else among wuxia novels. When you read this book, it’s like you’re reading a really interesting cookbook and travel guide.
I’ve always believed that the fun of wuxia novels is how multifaceted it is; there are many different interests that can only co-exist in wuxia novels.
—Mystery novels don’t have wuxia, but wuxia fiction can contain mystery elements. Romance literature doesn’t have wuxia, but wuxia fiction can have romance.
This is an amazing characteristic of wuxia fiction. And Sword Xia of the Shu Mountains just so happens to have made full use of this characteristic.
So this mode of writing has always commanded a very important position witin wuxia fiction. Huanzhu Louzhu (Li Shoumin) because of this served as a link between the past and the future and he was the founding master of his own school of writing.
Aside from Shu Mountains, Huanzhu Louzhu also wrote Blades From the Willows, Legend of Long Brow, the Perfected, The Seven Dwarfs of Emei, The Marvelous Tale of the Battle Over Cloud and Sea, Military Manual Gorge, The Fourteen Xia of Blue Gate Gorge, The Nineteen Xia of Qingcheng, Reclusive Xia of the Wilderness, Black Forest, Black Ant, Power, etc… Most of them are closely connected to Shu Mountains.
Almost none of these books were genuienly completed because the scope of that he set for them was really too large, so it was difficult to tie everything up. Even on down to nowadays there are still many many wuxia novels that suffer from this same affliction.
But of Huanzhu Louzhu’s contemporaries, there is one who was not influenced by him. That person is Wang Dulu.
3
Wang Dulu’s works are not only written in a fresh , unique style, but the emotions in the novels are exquisitely rendered and the structure are tight; every book is extremely complete.
His famous works Crane Startles Kunlun, Treasured Sword, Golden Hairpin, Sword Qi, Pearly Luster, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and Armored Cavalry, Silver Vase, though all part of a series, each story stands on its own, and they all have excellent endings. He’s also the first to bring literary fiction writing techniques into wuxia novels.
* * *
Other contemporaries of his were Zheng Zhengyin, Zhu Zhenmu, and Bai Yu. Aside from them, there was also Huansu Louzhu, who wrote Banner of Victory and Xu Chunyu who wrote Righteous Blood Mandarin Ducks, and though they had a lot of readers, they can’t compare to the above mentioned.
Zheng Zhengyin was the first wuxia author I revered. His writing is succinct, and his descriptions of the world of xia makes you feel like you’ve experienced it yourself. He was an expert at writing fight scenes, able to make nearly every move, every form come to life, so a lot of people believe he must have been an excellent fighter himself.
He was a prolific writer, and most of his books are short and so seem very efficient. His longest novel is Eagle Talon Wang, and that is also his most famous novel. Although he didn’t have many imitators, the style of fight scenes in his books and the scope of his secret society organizations have been used by writers up till the present day, so he is without a doubt the head of his own school.
If you take the wuxia novels of those days and divide them into five schools, then Huanzhu Louzhu, Wang Dulu, Zheng Zhengyin, Zhu Zhenmu, and Bai Yu are the sectmasters of the Five Major Schools.
Zhu Zhenmu’s Seven-Kill Stele, Madame Raksha, Seductive Demon Island, The Tale of Enmity on Dragon Ridge…
Bai Yu’s Twelve Coin Darts, Toxic Sand Palm, The Three Birds of Lionwood…
Every book was once a sensational bestseller, and every one once made me lose sleep and forget to eat, reading all through the night.
Aside from these, there’s some other books that I am particularly fond of, though not many know of them.
I’m talking about Bai Yu and Yu Fang’s collaborative novel Divine Flick Heaven and Earth Fist and Four Swords Rock the Jianghu.
I’ve never known who Yu Fang was and why they only wrote these two short books and then nothing else.
In fact, those famous authors didn’t write many works, and twenty years ago most of them had already stopped writing new works, so that period between the 40s and 50s can be considered the most depressing time for wuxia fiction.
During that period, a plagiarizing “famous author” took Huanzhu Louzhu’s “Black Melek” and “Lady Xia Luminous Pearl” and made them into a bestselling wuxia novel.
Until the 1950s when someone finally emerged to “revive” wuxia fiction and establish a new breakthrough and cause wuxia fiction to flourish for the next twenty years.
During those twenty years, famous authors emerged in droves, and the number of works was abundant, the writing styles changed to reach new heights, surpassing Huanzhu Louzhu’s generation.
The founder of this breakthrough was Jin Yong.
4
I was initially reluctant to talk about contemporary wuxia authors, but I can make an exception for Jin Ying.
Because his influence on this generation of wuxia fiction is unmatched, and for the past eighteen years or so, no matter what author you take, all of them have been influenced by him to some degree.
He merged together the strengths of each major author and school, and not just from wuxia fiction, but also from classical Chinese literature and modern Western literature. in order to create his own unique style that is succinct, tidy, and lively!
His novels are tightly plotted, large in scope, yet the endings match up with the openings, and the characters within are lifelike and vividly portrayed.
Especially Yang Guo.
Yang Guo is without a doubt one of the most loveable characters in all of wuxia fiction.
And the feeling between Yang Guo, Xiaolongnu, and Huang Rong is one of the most moving love stories in all of wuxia.
Most importantly, he created the current style of wuxia fiction that almost no one has been able to surmount.
But his early works still have traces of the influence of others.
In The Book and the Sword, “Thunderbolt Hand” Wen Tailai flees to Zhou Zhongying’s house and hides in a dried-up well before being sold out by Zhou Zhongying’s ignorant young son for the sake of a spyglass. When Zhou Zhongying learns of this, he bears the pain and kills his only son.
This story is almost the same thing as French literary giant Prosper Mérimée’s most famous story, only instead of a gold pocketwatch he changes it to a spyglass.
But this absolutely did not influence Mr. Jin Yong’s creativity, because he incorporated it completely into a style of his own creation so that it flowed seamlessly. Reading that part in The Book and the Sword is even more moving that in Mérimée’s original story.
When reading the part in Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre with Zhang Wuji’s parents and Golden Haired Lion King on that remote ice island, I see the shadow of another great author—Jack London.
Golden Haired Lion King’s personality is basically that of the Sea Wolf.
But this imitation is beyond reproach.
Because he took Sea Wolf and made it and subsumed it until the reader sees only Golden Haired Lion King and can no longer see Sea Wolf.
Wuxia fiction greatest strength is its ability to be all-inclusive; it can contain anything—you can have “romantic literary art” in wuxia fiction, but you can’t have “literary art” in wuxia.5
Everyone, when writing, is inevitably influenced by someone. “There’s nothing new under the sun” is a saying that, albeit a bit extreme, is not completely without merit.
An author’s creativity is certainly valuable, but associative ability and the ability to imitate are just as important.
When I myself first began writing wuxia novels, I was basically just imitating Mr. Jin Yong. Ten years of writing later, when I was writing The Sword and Exquisteness and Legendary Siblings, I was still imitating Mr. Jin Yong.
I believe there are many wuxia authors in the same situation as me. On this point, Mr. Jin Yong certainly deserves to feel proud.
* * *
Although the style of wuxia novel that Mr. Jin Yong created has attracted thousands upon thousands of readers up till now, wuxia fiction is still at the point now where it needs change, needs something new.
Because there’s been too many wuxia novels written, and readers have read too much as well.
For many readers, as soon as they’ve read the first two volumes6 they can already guess what the ending will be.
The most amazing thing is, the more intriguing the story, the more the reader is able to guess the ending.
Because similar “intriguing” stories have already been written countless times. Disguises, poisonous drugs, faked deaths, the most decent girl ending up being a villain—these traps are already unable to snare readers.
So an intriguing, unpredictable plot can no longer be considered wuxia fiction’s greatest attraction.
Human conflict is actually what is always appealing.
Wuxia fiction should no longer write about gods and devils but should begin writing about people, living people! Flesh and blood people!
Wuxia fiction’d protagonists ought to have strengths, but they also ought to have flaws, and even more so, human feelings.
The literary giant Gustave Flaubert, who wrote Madame Bovary once boasted that “After the nineteenth century there will no longer be novels.”
Because he felt all the stories and plotlines, all the emotinal transformations had already been exhausted by the might authors of the nineteenth century.
But he was wrong.
He overlooked one point.
Even if you take the same plot, when written from different perspectives what emerges is a novel with a completely different concept and view of humanity that is constantly changing, change along with the times.
Although wuxia novels write about antiquity, it’s not necessarily impossible for it to be infused with an author’s own new ideas. Because novels of course are fictional.
Writing a novel isn’t like writing and historical record. The biggest goal of writing novel is to entertain the reader, to move the reader.
If the plots of wuxia novels can no longer vary, then why not take a different tack and write about human feelings, human conflict, and within that emotional conflict manufacture climaxes and action.
5
Wuxia novels of course can’t be without action, but surely the ways of depicting that action can change?
The Daoist slashed his sword and bits of sword light shone, patterns of sword light intersecting, and in the twinkling of an eye he had already performed seven moves. This was the quintessential “Two Principles Swordplay” of Wudang, possessed of such lithe, graceful, fantastic variations that it’s simply beyond description.
* * *
The big man bellowed in rage and took half a step forward, hands shooting out like lightning and snatching his opponent’s sword and snapping it every so gently that this sword made of hundredfold-refined steel was broken into two pieces.
* * *
The young lady’s sword was light and quick, and her bodied followed it as her sword moved along with her, and in a blink her opponent sensed afterimages of her sword from all directions so they they didn’t know which was really the sword and which was just an afterimage.
* * *
The scholar recited slowly, “I would like to exhort you, sir, to a drink, for once you go west out of Yang Pass there will be no old friends.7 The sword in his hand followed his clear recitation, slanting outward, the lofty, exquisite, yet forlorn and forsaken meaning of the verses melded completely into his sword stroke.
* * *
Zheng Zhengyin’s school of fight scene descriptions: “Goose Landing on Flat Sand”, “Black Bird Scratches the Sand”, “Black Tiger Steals the Heart”, “Pull Up the Weeds to Look for the Snake”, Huanzhu Louzhu’s school of mystical magic and naked demonesses… These are admittedly somewhat outdated, but readers have read scenes like the example “action” scenes I wrote above how many times already?
How to write action scenes is really a difficult problem for wuxia fiction.
I’ve always thought that “action” doesn’t necessarily mean “fighting”.
The action in novels is different from that in movies. Action in a movie scene gives the viewer a vivid, energetic stimulus, but action descriptions in novels don’t have that kind of ability.
Action descriptions in novels ought to be brief and forceful and intense and not resort to cliché.
Action descriptions in novels ought to first create conflict, emotional conflict, situational conflict, and allow each conflict to pile up into a climax.
Then create atmosphere, a somber atmosphere.
And use that atmosphere to throw in sharp relief the stimulus for the action.
Wuxia fiction after all isn’t a martial arts handbook.
Wuxia ficiton also teaches you how to fight, how to kill people.
Blood and violence, though it has its everlasting appeal, still too much blood and violence will make people nauseous.
* * *
Almost every novel inevitably contains a love story.
Love is one of the most fundamental of human emotions, and it’s one of the earliest, developing much earlier than hate, so much so that it can be said that without love there is no humanity.
Almost every great love story is brimming with twist and turns, misunderstandings, difficulties, and crises, making readers anxious and tearful for the lovers in the story.
Romeo and Juliet, Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai, Tailborn clinging to the bridge pillar and dying8… They’re problems could have been resolved, but ultimately becuase of a “misunderstanding” they died.
In Erich Segal’s Love Story, the protagonists’ romance is almost completely perfect; no problem can get in the way of their love.
In the end, though, it’s still a tragedy.
It seems many people think that a love story has to be tragic in order to be moving.
In wuxia fiction, Wang Dulu’s novels are a perfect example.
Especially Li Mubai and Yu Xiulian in Treasured Sword, Golden Hairpin. Though their love for each other is very deep, they can never be together. Many times it looks like they are about to get together, but in the end they still part ways.
Because Li Mubai always thinks that Yu Xiulian’s fiancé, “Little Meng”, died because of him, so if he were to marry Yu Xiulian he would be betraying their code of brotherhood and letting down his friend.
That’s the only reason they can’t be together.
I think this reasoning is too forced.
Not only do I think that, other characters in the story, such as Southern Crane, Fatty, Shi, De Xiaofeng, and Yu Xiulian’s senior brother, Iron Spear Yang, all think that this argument can’t be used as the reason.
Unfortunately, Li Mubai is really stubborn. No matter how people try to persuade him, no matter how Yu Xiulian shows her love and admiration to him, in the final juncture he still uses his sword of wisdom to cut off the threads of love.
Because of this, a lot of people probably think Li Mubai is a rigtheous and loyal man of steel.
But I think this is Li Mubai’s most unlikeable personality trait.
I believe he can’t bring it up and he can’t let it go, not only being unworthy of Yu Xiulian’s deep affection for him, but also failing to live up to his friend’s good intentions toward him.
He even lets down “Little Meng”, because as Little Meng is dying, he tells him to take good care of Yu Xiulian because Little Meng knows how Yu Xiulian feels about Li Mubai.
Yet he still lets Yu Xiulian suffer the rest of her life.
From the standpoint of modern psychology, Li Mubai can be said simplt to be someone suffering from abnormal psychology.
Because he suffered a tragic childhood; his parents died when he was young and his uncle treated him bad. He never received love, so he’s afraid of love, afraid of bearing the responsibilities of raising a family.
So when a woman loves him he always has to escape, never having the courage to stick out his chest and receive that love.
He treated Yu Xiulian like this, and he also treated that poor prostitute Weaver Lady the same way.
To put it a bit extremely, he’s simply out-and-out full of self-loathing.
Although this story is without a doubt a success, not only able to move readers but also leave a deep impression in people’s minds, but I still don’t like it.
I’ve always believed that there are enough unfortunate, tragic events in the world, why can’t we make readers smile a little more? Why do we have to make them cry?
* * *
Yang Gup and Xiaolongnu are different. Their love went through many ups and downs and trials, but their love for each other never changed.
Yang Guo loves Xiaolongnu no matter what, unconditionally, regardless of her background or age, regardless of whether or not she had been sullied. He loves her, so he just loves her, never shrinking back, never evading.
I feel this is what a real man is.
If Xiaolongnu felt she wasn’t good enough for Yang Guo because she had been sullied and because she was older than him and therefore passed Yang Guo off to Guo Fu and told them, “You two are a a perfect match, only if you two are together will you really be happy.”
If the story had ended like that I would definitely have been so mad I’d cough up blood.
Some people might think this story has too strong of a legendary feel to it and is not realistic enough, but I think love storeis ought to be full of fantasy and be “romantic”.
* * *
It’s because since I was little I never liked stories with tragic endings that when I write a story, most of the time it has a happy ending.
Some say: tragic sentiments are more aesthetic than comedies.
I’ve always been against this view. I always hope to make others happier, always hope to increase people’s faith and compassion in life.
If everyone face life brimming with ardent love, wouldn’t this world be much more beautiful?
One time I went to Hualien and someone introduced me to a friend who turned out to be one of my readers.
He was a nice, honest person. This kind of person is usually taken advantage of and misled by others, and he was no exception.
One night after getting slightly drunk, he told me there was a time when he was really depressed to the point he wanted to die, but after reading my novels he suddenly realized that there was a lot in life worth cherishing.
When I heard that, my happiness was so real it was like receiving the most honorable medal one could get.
in my early novel, Legend of the Orphan Star, I once wrote a really absurd story.
I boy and a girl are out catching butterflies when their families are suddenly wiped out. By the time they return with their beautiful butterflies, their parents and relatives have all died tragically and their homes reduced to heaps of rubble.
They are still young, but there’s no one left in the world for them to rely on.
They can only rely on themselves.
So the boy exhausts all his energy in taking care of the girl, suffering every kind of hardship, suffering hunger and torment. Anythjing he gets to eat or wear he first gives to his little sweetheart.
In this situation, his growth and devlopment is naturally stunted.
Until finally they encounter their saviors, two eminent people detached from the world who take them in separately.
The boy goes to live with a lone old man in a pagoda, and the one who takes in the girl is a celebrated lady xia.
Though they are temporarily separated, they know that sooner or later they will be together again.
So they work really hard and master very high-level martial arts.
The boy learns a martial arts belonging to the gentle, soft variety, and most of his time he stays in the solitary pagoda. Plus, due to his stunted growth from all the suffering he endured, when he grows up he is naturally pretty short.
The girl learns a martial art that is very healthy and develops really well.
By the time they have gone through untold hardships and once again unite, they’re fervently held wishes are suddenly frozen like ice.
The boy is simply like a dwarf standing before the girl.
This ending was originally a satire on human life and originally ought to have been a bitter tragedy.
But I was not willing.
I still let them be together, and moreover they became the most admired, most respected loving husband and wife in the jianghu.
Because their love, no matter what, never changed, so they were worthy of others’ respect.
This tragedy became a comedy.9
Churchill was a great man and had an optimist. He said something once that was very thought-provoking: “One must never forget when misfortunes come that it is quite possible they are saving one from something much worse.”
So long as you hold this view, there’s nothing in life that can discourage you.
Defeat is not good, but success is often achieved from defeat.
6
But there really are many tragedies in life, so no author can avoid writing tragedy.
The Eleventh Son is a tragedy.
The most respected husband and wife in the martial world, but the wife falls in love with a notorious bandit.
In the society of that time period, that is no doubt a tragedy.
Many of my writer friends when talking about this story say that Xiao the Eleventh in the end ought to have died for Shen Bijun, that only that would make the reader leave with a, though bitter, yet beautiful memory, and that would elevate the literary style.
But I still wasn’t willing.
In the end, I still gave the lovers a way out, still gave them hope.
“Ah Fei’s story” is also a tragedy.
He loves a woman who is the most unworthy of being loved, and she doesn’t love him.
In this situation, a tragic ending is unavoidable.
But Ah Fei doesn’t topple over because of this. Instead this causes him to understand what true love and life really is.
He is not knocked down by grief but instead derived strength from his grief.
This is the true theme of Sentimental Swordsman, Ruthless Sword.
But this idea wasn’t created by me, I stole it from Maugham’s Of Human Bondage.
* * *
Imitation is by no means plagiarism.
I believe that whenever anyone writes, they are inevitably influenced by others.
Mistress of Mellyn was written under Daphne Du Maurier’s shadow, but no one can deny that it is a great masterpiece.
During a certain period in Chiung Yao’s works, you could see Rebecca and Wuthering Heights everywhere.
The name The Blue and the Black is by no means a plagiarism of The Red and the Black because it has its own ideas and thoughts.
If you are drawn to and moved by a person’s work, then you will often involuntarily imitate them when you write.
When I wrote Meteor, Butterfly, Sword, The Godfather was its biggest inspiration.
This novel was made into a sensational movie with Marlon Brando. The Uncle in Meteor, Butterfly, Sword is a shadow of his character in The Godfather.
He’s the boss of the “mafia”, indomitable as a stone, but also as sly as a fox.
Although he commits heinous acts, he also acts in a generous and just manner, he’s upright and unselfish.
He never blames everyone but himself because he loves life and he is brimming with love for his family and friends.
When I saw a character like this, when I wrote I was not able to get away from his shadow no matter what.
But I don’t acknowledge this as plagiarism.
If I can take these great characters from someone else’s masterpiece and introduce them into wuxia fiction, even if I’m ridiculed for it, I am perfectly happy to do it.
In wuxia fiction, what is most needed right now is these great characters, likeable people, and definitely not that unreasonable, unsociable spirit.
* * *
No matter what kind of novel you write, you have to write true to life, flesh and blood, but not the flesh cut off from a blade or the blood spilled from a sword stab, and certainly not that kind of “blood and flesh flying everywhere”, “bodies mutilated” kind of flesh and blood.
The kind of flesh and blood I’m talking about is living, the living flesh and blood of people.
The blood I’m talking about is ardent blood. If it has to be spilled, it has to be for something worth spilling.
Tie Zhongtang, Li Xunhuan, Guo Dalu… none of them like spilling blood.
But they’d rather bleed themselves than other shed tears for them.
Their passionate blood can be spilled for others at any time, as logn as they believe that what they are doing is worth it.
At any time they can sacrifice themselves for the people they truly love.
In their hearts there is only love, they is no hate.
Of all the characters I’ve written, these are the three I like the most.
But they are people, not gods.
Because they are also have human flaws. Sometimes they can’t take the blows and are pained, grieved, afraid.
They are all men with an indomitable spirit, but their personalities are not completely the same.
Tie Zhongtang is reticent and endures humiliation. Even if he is wronged by others, he doesn’t complain. The sacrifices he makes for another remains unknown to that person.
This is the kind of person who swallows his tears. The kind of person that even if his teeth get knocked out, he would just swallow the blood.
But Guo Dalu is different.
Guo Dalu is a big shouting, jumping, crying, laughing person.
When he wants to cry he crys loudly. When he wants to laugh he laughs loudly. When his friends let him down he will point at that person’s nose and scold him loudly, but a minute later he will pawn his pants to get money to buy this person to a drink.
He likes hyperbole, likes pleasure, likes spending money. He never wants to die, but if you ask him to sell out his friend he’d rather cut off his own head than agree.
He’s a bit capricious, a bit lewd, but when he truly loves a woman, nothing could ever make him change no matter what.
Li Xunhuan’s personality is closer to Tie Zhongtang but is more mature than the latter and better understands life.
Because he has suffered too much and his pain has been concealed in his heart for too long.
He seems rather passive, very weary, but actually he regards people with ardent love.
He loves everyone passionately, not just his lover or his friends. This is how he is able to keep on going.
The only person who’s ever tormented him his whole lifer is himself.
* * *
Li Xunhuan has some other differences with Tie Zhongtang and Guo Dalu.
He is not a healthy person. To put it in modern medical terms, he has pulmonary tuberculosis, always coughing nonstop to the point that he coughs up blood.
Among all the protagonists in wuxia fiction, he might very well be the most unhealthy one.
But his mind is on the contrary very healthy. His will is as strong as iron and steel, and very few people have his self-control.
He’s reclusive, he flees from fame. Whatever he does, he doesn’t want others to know about it.
Yet he has still becomg a living legend.
Not many people have ever seen him, but rare is the person who’s never heard his name, especially his dagger.
Little Li’s Flying Dagger.
His dagger is never thrown casually, but when it is thrown it never misses.
I rarely ever write martial arts that’s too magical, but Little Li’s Flying Dagger really is magical.
I’ve never described the dagger’s shape or length, not have I ever described how he throws it or how he learned it.
I’ve only written how steady his hand is when he uses it to whittle. Everything else I left to the reader’s imagination.
The martial arts in wuxia fiction is all comes from the imagination.
In fact, his dagger can only be imaginary, there’s no way to describe it.
Because his dagger is a symbol, symbolizing the power of forthrightness and righteousness.
So even though Shangguan Jinhong’s martial arts is better than his, in the end he still dies by his flying dagger.
Because righteousness must prevail over evil.
No matter how long things stay dark, in the end, light will come out sooner or later.
So his dagger is not a weapon, and it’s not a concealed projectile but a force to make one inspired and encouraged.
People need only see Little Li’s Flying Dagger appear to know that might will inevitably perish, and justice will inevitably be upheld.
That’s my true intention behind writing “Little Li’s Flying Dagger”.
7
Many different kinds of marvelous weapons appear in wuxia fiction.
Sabres, spears, swords, polearms, hatchets, axes, hookswords, tridents, whips, hammers, claws, chain spears, meteor hammers, monk’s shovels, tiger blockers, coiling dragon staffs, sickle swords, three-sectioned staffs, demon exorcising Sabres, judge’s brushes, water-parting mattocks, Emei stingers, great white waxwood poles…
Among sabres there is the short-hilt broadsabre, double sabres, demon head sabre, nine-ring sabre, monk’s knige, goldbacked mountain chopping sabre…
This variety of weapons is already enough, but authors sometimed still like to create unique, unusual weapons for their books’ main characters, some even able to create seven or eight different weapons, some even that at a crticial moment can eject projectiles and knockout drops.
But weapons are dead; people, however, are alive.
Whether or not a weapon is able to make a reader feel it’s magical and exciting depends mainly on how it is used.
In my memory there are a few that have left a deep impression on me.
In Zhang Jiexin’s Three Xia Swordsmen, “Soaring Jade Tiger” Jiang Bofang uses a shiny silver coiling dragon staff.
There’s nothing special about the staff itself; it’s certainly no match for “Gold Dart” Sheng Ying’s Fish Scale Purple Gold Sabre, and is really not as good as “Snatch the Moon from the Seafloor” Ye Qianlong’s precious sword that can cut through iron like it’s mud, nor is it as good as “Turbid Sea Golden Turtle” Meng Jinlong’s demon exorcising pestle.
But because the person using it is “Soaring Jade Tiger” Jiang Bofang, it still left a very deep impression on me.
Twenty years ago when I read that book, my heart would skip whenever Jiang Bofang brought out his coiling dragon staff.
“Eagle Talon Wang’s” hands are weapons.
But the most common weapons in wuxia fiction are the sabre and the sword.
Especially the sword.
The great xia of the orthodox schools for the most part use swords.
Dao Senior Grain of Dust’s sword, Li Mubai’s sword, Black Melek’s sword, Shangguan Jin’s sword, Zhan Zhao’s sword, Gold Snake Gentleman’s sword, Red Flower Society’s Father Speckless’s sword, *Shu Mountain’s* Three Yings and Two Yun’s swords…
These are all unforgettable.
But once one’s martial arts reaches its peak, there’s no longer any need for any weapon, because he “can send flowers flying and pluck leaves and wound people with those”, any object in his hand a potential weapon.
Because his sword’s form has already transformed to formless.
So the top masters in wuxia fiction often wear loose robes with big sleeves and don’t carry an inch of iron. That’s quite an interesting phenomenon.
I don’t think I’ve every doubted whether or not a person’s flesh and blood body can withstand a killer’s sharp weapon.
* * *
Concealed projectiles are also sharp weapons that can kill.
Many believe that concealed projectiles are insignificant and are not just and honorable enough, that it’s not an impressive skill, so real heroes shouldn’t use them.
Actually, concealed projectiles are weapons too.
If you think about it, you will realize that modern weapons are actually concealed projectiles.
What’s the difference between a gun and a sleeve arrow? Aren’t machine guns just modern-day repeating crossbows?
Learning concealed projectiles is the same as learning the sabre or the sword, you still have to put a lot of time and hard work into it. Sometimes learning a concealed projectile can be more difficult than learning some other weapon.
Those who diligently practice using concealed projectiles not only need to have keen eyes, they also need a pair of steady hands.
As long as you don’t hurt someone by throwing the projectile at them behind their back, then concealed projectiles are completely beyond reproach.
There are many unforgettable concealed projectiles in wuxia fiction.
Three Superb Yue’s “Twelve Coin Darts”, “Finger Flicking Magic’s” toxic sand, the Liu family father-daughter’s iron lotus seeds…
Though Bai Yu didn’t make these projecticles up himself, he certainly wrote them well.
in Wang Dulu’s novels, Yu Jiaolong’s little crossbow arrows are just like her, arrogant and willful, fierce and tough, never giving anyone any ground.
He melded Yu Jiaolong’s personality with her concealed projectile; such a depiction is no doubt really successful.
“Thousand Arm Buddha” Zhao Banshan of The Book and the Sword has ther sharpest weapon in all of wuxia fiction, but his heart is also the most compassionate and the softest.
“White Eyebrows” Xu Liang of Seven Xia and Five Sworn Brothers is the same. His body is covered with concealed projectiles from top to bottom; no matter the situation, no matter what angle, he can loose a missile.
“Gold Dart” Sheng Ying’s “Head Toss” and “Welcoming at the Gate”, Meng Jinlong’s flying grapplers, Shangguan Jin’s iron fan, the mother-son golden shuttles Zheng Zhengyin wrote of…
These are all successfully depicted concealed projectiles.
But the ones that have been written about the most in wuxia fiction are the poisonous projectiles of the “Tang Sect” of Sichuan.
It’s unknown whether there really ever was a “Tang Sect” family in Sichuan.
But I believe a lot of people are like me, in that they mostly all believe there was one that really existed.
Because this family and their poisonous projectiles appeared in nearly every wuxia author’s works, they’re just about as real as Shaolin and Wudang.
If it’s just a groundless fabrication then it was all too well realized.
It’s just a shame that no one remembers which author first wrote of this family.
In The Sword and Exquisiteness, I modernized this family’s method of projectile manufacturing so that they’re like the secret weapons in spy novels.
When I was writing I was quite happy and satisfied because I thought that since the Tang family had staked out their own claim in the martial world through these weapons, then these weapons were naturally different others, so the way they were made ought to be kept a secret.
But now my thinking has changed.
The formidableness of the Tang family’s projecticles probably lies not in the weapons themselves, but in the hands that wield them.
Concealed projectiles are also dead, but people are alive.
An ordinary bow, an ordinary arrow, in the right trained hands becomes magical. So now emphasis when writing is completely focused on the “person”.
Every kind, every type of person. Men. Women.
* * *
No matter what, no one can deny that the world cannot be without women.
“Eternal Feminine, leads us on high.”10
So wuxia fiction cannot be without women.
Women are the same as men: there are good ones, bad ones, lovable ones, and detestable ones.
Yu Xiulian is the typical northern lady, forthright, frank, straightforward, but she is also a typical old-fashioned woman.
So although she loves Li Mubai deeply, she doesn’t dare take the initiative and strive to make herself happy.
Though she is unyielding, in her heart she is aggrieved and suffering, but she just slently endures it.
If I had written this story, the ending likely would have been completely different.
I would definitely have her follow Li Mubai. Wherever he went, she would go too, because she loves him loves him very deeply.
This way of writing it of course would not be as moving as Wang Dulu’s way, I know that.
But I would still write it that way.
Because I really can’t bear to let a lovable woman like her suffer alone for the rest of her life.
Wang Dulu wrote Yu Jiaolong as arrogant and willful, headstrong, but from beginning to end she doesn’t have the nerve and is unwilling to openly marry Luo Xiaohu.
Because she always sees herself as a precious girl of a rich family , and Luo Xiaohu is a bandit. She feels Luo Xiaohu is not a good match for her. The Confucian ethics and views of the world are deeply rooted within her.
Yu Xiulian not being able to marry Li Mubai is passive. Yu Jiaolong not being able to marry Luo Xiaohu, though, is her own doing.
So I don’t like Yu Jiaolong.
So I wrote Shen Bijun. Though she is gentle and submissive, at the final juncture she would rather sacrifice everything to be with Xiao the Eleventh.
I’ve always thought that women have the right to strive for their own happiness.
That kind of thinking during those days was of course was rebellious against established practices and would of course was absolutely not permitted.
But who can say that there were no women like that during that time?
Sun Xiaohong of Sentimental Swordsman, Ruthless Sword, Su Ying of Legendary Siblings, Tian Sisi of The Celebrity… they were all written with this notion in mind.
They dared to love, dared to hate, dared to strive for their own happiness, but their personalities didn’t lose their feminine gentleness and charm. They are still women.
A woman ought to be a woman.
On this point I have a completely different view than Mr. Chang Cheh. My novels are completely focused on men.
When I was very young, I didn’t like reading wuxia novels in which woman were written to be more formidable than men.
I don’t like Madame Raksha because Zhu Zhenmu made Madame Raksha too formidable. Mu Tianlan before her is nothing more than a kid who can only suck his thumb.
It’s not at all because I look down on women—I’ve never dared to look down on women. Heroes like the Hegemon King of Chu, Xiang Yu, stuck very close to Consort Yu.
But Consort Yu was like Xiang Yu, all-powerful, leaping on her horse with spear leveled into an army of thousands. So then she wasn’t as lovable woman.
Women can make men submit, but it ought to be with her wisdom, her consideration, and her gentleness, absolutely not with her sabre or sword.
I respect intelligent and gentle women just like I respect upright, xia-like and righteous men.
“Xia” and “rigtheousness” are inseparable. It’s just a shame that some write “martial arts” too much, and write “xia and righteousness” (i.e. chivalry) too little.
The show of utter devotion between men, the go through thick and thin code of brotherhood, can sometimes be even greater and more moving than romantic love!
Wang Dulu admittedly did write the feelings between Li Mubai and Yu Xiulian very well, but he wrote of the brotherhood between Li Mubai and De Xiaofeng even better.
De Xiaofeng’s friendship toward Li Mubai was completely unconditional. He took Li Mubai as his own flesh and blood brother, and he did things for Li Mubai and never hoped for it to be repaid.
After he was arrested and banished into exile away from his family, he still joyfully clapped Li Mubai on the shoulder and said he had always longed to travel outside, and thrice asked Li Mubai not to be pained on his account.
When he was bullied, he feared Li Mubai would vent his anger and kill someone on his behalf and end up a criminal himself, so he never dared to let Li Mubai know.
How sublime is that kind of friendship, how pure, how grand!
Li Xunhuan treats Ah Fei the same way. He only pays for Ah Fei but never thinks of being paid back.
Love is beautiful, love is like a rose, but it has thorns.
“The only rose in the world that doesn’t have thorns is friendship!”
Though love is more intense than friendship, friendship is longer lasting, is more unconditional, and no one questions the cost.
Courage also ought to be long-lasting. Risking one’s life in a split second of reckless bravery, whether it’s killing someone or being killed, can’t be counted as genuine courage.
Su Shi in his “On Marquis Liu” once said:
>When an ordinary man is insulted, he draws his sword and rises, sticks his chest out and fights. This is not courage. Those in this world with great courage are not flustered when something suddenly happens, and when they are insulted they don’t get angry. This is because they keep their great ambitions in mind, and their ambitions are very lofty.
That piece of writing already explains courage thoroughly. Courage is knowing shame but being forbearing.
A person who, when insulted or treated unjustly, can still grit their teeth and bear it and continue on doing what they believe they ought to do, that is true courage.
So Yang Guo is a courageous person, and so is Tie Zhongtang. They would never alter their will because of any external influence.
The willingness to admit one’s mistakes is also an extraordinary kind of courage.
If Wuxia fiction can portary more of this kind of courage, then wuxia authors will definitely be more respected than they are now.
Published June 1, 1977 in Hong Kong’s《大成》, issue 43 – November 1 issue 48, split into six parts.
Notes
- Ni Kuang unfortunately never did write this work.
- The Poetry of Du Fu, Volume 5, Stephen Owen, pg.333.
- Amy McNair, The Upright Brush, pg. 22.
- Gu Long is mistaken here. It was original “Three” xia, not four.
- He’s talking about capital-L Literature.
- These volumes he’s talking about were quite slim, around 75 pages or so and would typically contain about 3 chapters each. A typical wuxia novel would have 20-40 volumes total.
- These are two lines from a Wang Wei poem called “Seeing Yuan the Second Off on His Dispatch to Anxi”.
- From Zhuangzi, Ch. 29 “Robber Footpad”: “Tailborn had an appointment with a girl beneath a bridge, but the girl did not come. The water rose, but he would not leave, and he died with his arms wrapped around a pillar of the bridge.” — translated by Victor Mair in his translation of Zhuangzi called Wandering on the Way, pg. 303-304.
- In the earlier Greek sense of a story with a happy ending.
- From Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.