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A Thousand Pieces of Gold: A Memoir of China’s Past Through its Proverbs
Adeline Yen Mah
The author of the international bestsellers Watching the Tree and Falling Leaves has always been fascinated by proverbs and their importance and use in China. Both her book titles are based on such proverbs.The majority of Chinese proverbs are drawn from the 1st century, when the First King of all China established his leadership over the whole country and its warring kingdoms. In ancient China, a scholar's conversation would be studded with appropriate sayings, and a man's status in society would be defined by his use and knowledge of proverbs. In modern China, much of this is still true, and proverbs are used daily.Adeline Yen Mah introduces us to the whole rich picture of the first century BC when after the long wars between states, China was finally united and the richness of the literature and art could flourish. She portrays the leaders, the plots and the counter-revolutions with great vividness and liveliness so that even those ignorant of Chinese history become absorbed. And as in all her other books, she relates the historical episodes and the proverbs derived from these to experiences in her own life.One of the major expressions of this age was of course the First King's tomb with its terracotta soldiers, of horses and carriages and the stones of the building. The re-finding of this monument – now open to us all – and Adeline Yen Mah's own experiences there, are extraordinary.A Thousand Pieces of Gold, following Watching the Tree and Falling Leaves, is a personal account by a much loved author, but it is also a lively history of the fascinating period of civilisation when Europe was barely out of the stone age.
One Written Word is Worth
A Thousand Pieces of Gold
ADELINE YEN MAH
Dedicated to my husband Bob,
who knows me better than I know myself (zhi ji) and makes everything worthwhile.
CONTENTS
Note on Pronunciation (#uf60b1d83-926b-52a2-a590-596925a7c6ac)
Preface (#uf3bb2f43-a31d-576a-bc99-6cc4be8c49ea)
1 Loss of One Hair from Nine Oxen (#uf9312c77-24a0-530a-8f67-deef431e79f6)
2 Precious Treasure Worth Cherishing (#ua71eb5d4-ade4-57f1-b118-4827302961f0)
3 One Written Word is Worth a Thousand Pieces of Gold (#u0535de10-f570-554c-8d1d-842d054bb915)
4 Binding your Feet to Prevent your own Progress (#u17f4d1a6-add9-51bc-9193-83807b902fc4)
5 Clapping with One Hand Produces No Sound (#ua1337367-f65b-5025-97de-742530b85b89)
6 When the Map is Unrolled, the Dagger is Revealed (#u756a2b3e-fc9a-51b5-8674-d8181a13c1b9)
7 Burning Books and Burying Scholars (#u65d974e9-ad85-59ee-bf9c-48755ecb9de2)
8 Words that Would Cause a Nation to Perish (#u71cbedfe-354c-5c90-bfed-6c3d9feac5d4)
9 Pointing to a Deer and Calling it a Horse (#u8765670b-6dc4-543e-aa75-00abba7e2e10)
10 Little Sparrows with Dreams of Swans (#ubf29e0d1-3c74-521a-913b-045ddd0850ca)
11 Destroy the Cooking Cauldrons and Sink the Boats (#ub0f434e5-9739-5f34-b6ac-c89758cb82a9)
12 This Young Man is Worth Educating (#u044592d2-9682-56c6-afc1-77edef0520ce)
13 Banquet at Wild Goose Gate (#u20201a49-527e-51eb-ab0e-479a09c0b270)
14 Dressed in the Finest Brocades to Parade in the Dark of Night (#u1e0450d6-ef49-5078-b2e1-97ce7da7135c)
15 Plot to Sow Discord and Create Enmity (#u4f5be293-f31c-52dd-94f4-79207be5a166)
16 The Heart of the People Belongs to Han (#u0cfb151c-ee36-5472-a884-69795bb6b731)
17 The Human Heart is Difficult to Fathom (#u350916b8-bf04-5b5e-94e3-5d56d888754f)
18 Devising Strategies in a Command Tent (#u0e086c56-ac1c-5bb7-ac9d-c6dd30289adb)
List of Proverbs (#ua60c58c9-35f0-5576-8723-54e4076d716a)
Index (#ub78d09ff-d6e3-532f-99b2-4dc4dc8dd52b)
Acknowledgements (#ueece2689-11b6-5fb9-8502-5ec7f8f6ae9f)
About the Author (#u1e30a60d-43eb-58d9-85c1-bba7ced7a87e)
Also by Adeline Yen Mah (#u955edd32-944d-50c0-8564-1b551a3b5fb0)
Copyright (#u760a1358-b00d-5c5a-b0ca-c5592e017585)
About the Publisher (#u1b376fe4-0e0d-58fd-827c-094d1f214b9d)
Note on Pronunciation (#ulink_9eb797f5-56b1-59f0-a04d-fd320cfda595)
Chinese is a pictorial, not a phonetic, language. Words are pronounced differently in different provinces, even though they are written in the same way and have the same meaning. This was true even during the time of the Warring States (475–221 BC). The historian Sima Qian began the biography of the assassin Jing Ke with these words: ‘Jing Ke was born in the state of Wei [present-day Henan province]. The natives of Wei pronounced his name Master Qing, but those from the state of Yan called him Master Jing.’
After the Communists conquered China in 1949, they standardised the phonetic spelling of Chinese characters throughout China according to the Beijing dialect, or Mandarin, and called it Pinyin. Pinyin is defined as the phonetic, alphabetic spelling of Chinese writing.
I would like to introduce a few famous figures from Chinese history to western readers using Pinyin. This is not an exhaustive list of all the names that appear in this book, of course, but it gives an overall flavour of how Chinese names are pronounced.
Unlike the western world, Chinese surnames are pronounced first, to be followed by the given names. For instance, my maiden surname is Yen
and my given name is Junling
. Thus my Chinese name is Yen Junling
.
My husband Bob’s surname is Mah
. When I married Bob, my Chinese name became Mah Yen Junling
, whereas my English name became Adeline Yen Mah.
In a similar vein, Deng Xiaoping’s surname was Deng
. His given name was Xiaoping
.
Mao Zedong’s surname was Mao
, and his given name was Zedong
.
Sima Qian’s surname was Sima
, and his given name was Qian
.
The word Haan
in the state of Haan
during the Warring States period is the same character as the surname of General-in-chief Hahn
Xin
. The word Han
in Han dynasty
is an entirely different word from the other two. However, all three are pronounced Han and are spelt identically as Han in the Chinese-English Pinyin dictionary and in history books. To distinguish them and avoid confusion, I have chosen to spell them differently in this book.
Preface (#ulink_da1acc9d-041a-5648-b6d1-6fadf7756e07)
As a little girl in Shanghai, I remember coming home from school in the afternoons and running up the stairs. The first thing I did was to dash into my grandfather Ye Ye’s room to see what he was doing. His room was next to the one I shared with my Aunt Baba, Father’s older sister. When he was in a good mood, he would be practising calligraphy and humming a tune from Beijing opera.
One day I asked him, ‘Ye Ye, what are these words that you are writing?’
‘They are proverbs.’
‘Why do you write proverbs when you practise calligraphy?’
He rested his brush on his inkstand and looked at me. ‘That is an excellent question!’ he answered. ‘Tell me, what is a proverb?’
‘A wise saying.’
‘Where do proverbs come from?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘The best proverbs come from our history. History describes the behaviour of people who lived in the past. Those people were our ancestors. We Chinese probably revere our ancestors and our history more than any other race. To us, history is not only a record of what has happened before. It is also a guide to educate children like yourself, giving you examples that will teach you how to live your life. Proverbs mirror the past to benefit the present.
‘Now, do you recognise the four characters that I am practising today? If you do, you can have a choice: a piece of candy from my jar or the legend behind these four words.’
With some difficulty, I read aloud the four characters, jiu niu yi mao (loss of one hair from nine oxen).
Ye Ye was delighted! ‘Since I’ve never told you stories from history before, today you get both the story and the candy. But only today! From now on, you’ll have to choose between the two.’
I nodded eagerly, sat on the floor by his chair and put the candy in my mouth as he began. The narrative he related was so fascinating that, despite my greed, I soon forgot about the candy. From then on, I often chose to listen rather than satisfy my longing for sweets.
My Ye Ye passed away many years ago, but his proverbs and the history behind them have remained in my mind. On one of the last occasions we were together, he said to me, ‘No matter what else people may steal from you, they will never be able to take the knowledge of these proverbs from your mind.’
In this book, I would like to share my knowledge, as well as my love of proverbs, with you.
When I first wrote the story of my Chinese family, I chose my grandfather’s favourite proverb for its title. Falling Leaves (return to their roots) is actually the second half of a couplet first published during the Song dynasty (AD 960–1279):
Shu gao qian zhangLuo ye gui gen.
Even if a tree reaches the height of ten thousand feet,
Falling leaves return to their roots.
Nowadays, the first half of the couplet is seldom used and only the second half is cited. ‘Falling leaves return to their roots’ symbolises the return of the wandering child to her ancestral home, as well as overseas Chinese going back to China or, for that matter, any ethnic group returning to their country of origin. Grandfather used to tell me that this proverb is a reminder that as a person gets older, he tends to go back to his beginnings.
In the 1980s, when Britain’s Margaret Thatcher and China’s Deng Xiaoping signed the agreement to return Hong Kong to China in 1997, Deng was asked by reporters to make a public statement. Instead of a lengthy speech, Deng righted the wrongs of 150 years of Chinese humiliation by uttering the four simple words luo ye gui gen (falling leaves return to their roots).
On that historic occasion, it was by means of an evocative proverb that Deng Xiaoping chose to express his sentiments, as well as those of over one billion Chinese.
There are numerous other recorded examples of Chinese leaders using proverbs to illustrate the lessons learned from history. In the 1930s, China was ruled by Chiang Kai-shek, leader of the Nationalist party. Instead of fighting the Japanese who had invaded China, Chiang was preoccupied with annihilating the fledgling Communist movement led by Mao Zedong. Under pressure from the USA to drive out the Japanese before tackling the Communists, Chiang refused, saying, ‘The Japanese are only xuan jie zhi ji “a disease of the skin”, but the Communists are xin fu zhi huan “a malady of the heart”.’
In America, Chiang was much admired for his poetic eloquence. What his western audience did not realise was that Chiang’s statements were not original. He was merely quoting an ancient proverb.
When the Vietnam War escalated and Ho Chi Minh asked for aid from Communist China, Mao Zedong agreed to assist and quoted the proverb chun wang chi han (when the lips are gone, the teeth are cold). The proverb stems from an incident during the early Warring States period (475–221 BC) when China was divided into many states. One state wished to invade another and asked for safe passage through a third one in order to do so. The prime minister of the last state advised his king not to grant the request, warning him that if the second state were conquered, their country would be the next target because chun wang chi han (when the lips are gone, the teeth are cold). The proverb signifies ‘interdependence’ between two parties and was first written down by Zhuangzi (born 330 BC).
While doing research for this book, I was amazed to come across the same proverb in a memorial written more than 2200 years ago by Li Si, a high-ranking official in the government of King Zheng of Qin. In the year 233 BC, Li Si was sent by his sovereign to the neighbouring state of Haan. At that time, the state of Zhao was planning to attack Qin and was asking for safe passage through Haan. Like Mao Zedong, Li Si quoted the proverb ‘when the lips are gone, the teeth are cold’ in an attempt to dissuade the King of Haan from granting the army of Zhao access through his land. He added in his memorial, ‘Qin and Haan suffer the same perils. The misfortune of one is the misfortune of the other. This is an obvious fact.’
Substitute the state of Zhao for the USA, Qin for Vietnam and Haan for Communist China, and we have Mao Zedong thinking the same thoughts and using the same language in 1963, as Li Si over twenty-two centuries earlier.
In September 2000, I read of the execution of two high-ranking Chinese officials for corruption: one was the vice-chairman of China’s National People’s Congress and the other was the deputy governor of a large province. The Chinese newspapers reported that before their crimes were discovered, both had already prepared escape routes in the tradition of the proverb jiao tu san ku. However, they were caught before they could put their flight plan into action.
That proverb jiao tu san ku means ‘a cunning rabbit has three warrens’. It originates from an ancient history book entitled Strategies between the Warring States, written over 2000 years ago. The proverb relates the story of a man named Meng who was prime minister to the King of Qi during the fourth century BC. Meng sent his adviser Feng to his fief to collect debts. Instead of doing so, Feng forgave all the loans, telling the villagers that he was doing this on the Prime Minister’s orders. Meng was displeased but the deed was done. A year later, Meng fell from favour and had to return to his native village. When he was still one hundred li (about thirty miles) away, the local people, young and old, all came out to welcome him. Meng was greatly moved and praised Feng for his far-sightedness but the latter said, ‘Jiao tu san ku. (A cunning rabbit has three warrens to hide and avoid capture.) You have only one. I am going to build you two more.’ Feng then obtained a fallback offer for Meng as Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Wei. Hearing of this, the King of Qi reinstated Meng as his Prime Minister. Feng told Meng, ‘Now that all three holes are in place, you may relax and live in peace.’
Commenting on the behaviour of the two corrupt officials, the Chinese newspapers reported that two common ‘rabbit warrens’ for corrupt politicians were to obtain foreign passports for themselves, and to move family members, loved ones and money overseas. The executed vice-chairman had secretly deposited US$5,000,000 in bribes in a Hong Kong Bank account for himself and his mistress, whereas the deputy governor was quoted as having advised his son to get a green card in the US so that ‘you’ll have permanent residence there and I’ll have somewhere to go when I emigrate myself’.
This true story illustrates the importance of proverbs in influencing behaviour and forming opinions in China today.
How do the Chinese think? Why do we think that way? Do people in the west think in a different way?
All of us think in words. Therefore every form of thought is related to the language, culture and history of the particular thinker, and the land of their birth. Westerners and Chinese have different views of the world that may sometimes contradict one another, yet both may be right. For example, to an Englishman, Israel is in the Middle East and China the Far East; whereas to a Chinese person, Israel is in the West and England the Far West. Depending on the viewpoint, the conclusions are different, but both parties are correct.
For westerners to understand Chinese reasoning, it is essential to realise that, more than any other nation, Chinese rationale stems from the roots of our lengthy and well-documented past. The Chinese view of the world is highly dependent on the lessons learned from our forefathers. Traditionally, this ‘wisdom of the ages’ is often encapsulated in the form of four characters and presented as a proverb.
Many Chinese proverbs originate from ancient historical literature, poetry, letters and other writings. Based on actual events, they carry philosophical or moral messages that make them relevant and meaningful in contemporary life. At best, they radiate a glow that mirrors the Chinese mind, recalling incidents from bygone eras that define the Chinese way of thinking. They keep alive the memory of fables and legends and, following centuries of repetition, have evolved into ‘coded messages’ that are integrated into daily speech. Used correctly, they illustrate aspects of human behaviour that capture the very essence of our existence and there is no doubt that ancient proverbs still shape the thoughts and behaviour of Chinese people today. Lessons learned from conflicts and battles that happened hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago continue to serve as a backdrop to many Chinese decisions.
Written Chinese is a pictorial language. Most of the words originate from pictures of actual objects, not mental concepts. Because of this, the Chinese are used to viewing life in terms of concrete examples, using specific incidents to illustrate abstract ideas. Citation of proverbs summarising past legends has a particularly emotive appeal for the Chinese and plays a large part in the expression of Chinese thought.
Ordinary conversation between Chinese people is studded with quotes from ancient historians, poets and philosophers. The use of proverbs is often viewed as a barometer of a Chinese person’s knowledge of history, level of education and depth of wisdom. Hidden within the psyche of many Chinese, there is a lurking conviction that scholarship is more admirable than money, and nothing impresses a Chinese person more than to hear someone quote an appropriate proverb in a timely fashion.
