Click below for the other "Breaking the Vessel" posts.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
VI
Outside Looking In
[a] Yingzong r. 1064-1067 |
Sima Guang was talented, highly educated, and a little lucky. By the 1060s, he was ready. After a long climb up the “ladder of success” in Song dynasty China—complete with reflective sabbaticals that deepened his skills and fulfilled his familial obligations—he was on the verge of greatness. Forty springs after he was said to have rushed from his books to save his little friend from a watery, cylindrical grave, Sima Guang found himself in another study—that of the emperor himself. The immensely talented Sima held the prestigious position of chief tutor to the emperor Yingzong (r. 1064-1067). It was a sure route to the premiership—the highest civilian office in the empire. He had arrived, and he had a plan.
His official task was to explain the lessons of the past in a way that could help his listener function smoothly in difficult political and managerial situations. He could assume that his pupil was well trained in the classics, and he was asked to draw the lines, so to speak, between classical principles, historical examples, and current events in the mid-eleventh century. While there were no precise parallels in classical literature to the challenges he and Emperor Yingzong faced, he was confident that the lessons of history—framed by the teachings of antiquity—provided a road map to the present.
Forty years earlier, while explaining historical lessons to his own family members, he was said to have made such points quite effectively. In fact, the following lines actually appear right before the “breaking the vessel” story in Sima’s biography. The full quotation from the Song Dynasty History explains it in the rich tones of hagiography:
[b] The Comprehensive Mirror (fragments) |
When Sima Guang was seven years old, he already appeared to be a highly accomplished individual. He would hear the classical histories recounted by the family tutor; he admired them, and explained their contents to his family, all the while highlighting the broad outlines and teachings for them. From that day onward, he was never without a book in his hands—to the point that he paid no attention to hunger or thirst, heat or cold.
A group of children was playing in the courtyard when one child climbed onto a large, decorative urn. His feet slipped and he fell into deep rainwater in the vessel. The other children fled in fear and confusion, but Sima Guang grasped a stone and broke the vessel, saving the child’s life.[1]
[d] Letter by Sima Guang |
[e] Plum Blossoms |
As his biography makes clear, Sima Guang had been taught the great histories from an early age, and developed a lasting interest in their "managerial lessons" for the present. He wanted history to make a difference for rulers, and felt that the writings of previous dynasties was deficient. In particular, he considered the official histories written in imperial times to be hollow and bureaucratic documents. They were, he felt, a jumble of biographies and event-lists that were unable to convey the deeper meanings of the past, not to mention advice for the future. He wrote of his own goal with historical writing:
Since my youth, I have perused the various histories; it appears that in the standard historical form, the text's characters are diffuse—although learned specialists read them time and again, they cannot understand them as a whole. It is still more difficult for the emperor, having myriad daily concerns but desiring to know comprehensively the gains and losses of past events.
[f] Henan |
This statement contains the essence of Sima Guang's historical writing: a wide use of sources, an eye set toward problems of government management, and an unswerving emphasis on traditional Confucian values—from protection of the people to the maintenance of heaven's mandate. Emulating classical histories, Sima wanted his Comprehensive Records to furnish "models and warnings," taken from China's history, which would guide rulers toward virtuous government. He wanted to create a management text based on historical teachings.
[f] Four social virtues |
And then the luck ran out.
[h] Zhong Kui, alone and contemplative |
Sima Guang redoubled his teaching efforts, yet it was for naught. A year later, his influence was on the wane and his chief rival, Wang Anshi, was given the premiership over him. Sima Guang, whose entire career had been marked by enormous success in all spheres, suddenly found himself on the outside, unable to convince the new ruler of his teachings. He had used every argument he could muster, both publicly and privately, yet he had lost. Rapid reform was in the air, and Sima could only protest respectfully and step aside. Things had changed dramatically in the space of a year, and it was not his government anymore.
Monday (4/11)—Exile and Response
After a fortnight's break—and the development of many new "departments" on Round and Square—we will return to the rest of our story.
Sima Guang reluctantly left the center of power and began a life in self-imposed exile in the ancient capital city of Luoyang. The same situation that crushed his political dreams opened the opportunity to finish one of the world's greatest historical texts. Working with five assistants, the project would take the better part of two decades. All the while, Sima harbored a well-couched resentment that he channeled into the historical project. The Comprehensive Mirror can in some respects be seen as ten-thousand pages of "I told you so" aimed at his political opponents, in a book that leaders would read many hundreds of years after his time.
No comments:
Post a Comment