Xun Xu and the Politics of Precision in Third-Century AD China 900418337X, 9789004183377

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Xun Xu and the Politics of Precision in Third-Century AD China
 900418337X, 9789004183377

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Xun Xu and the Politics of Precision in Third-Century AD China

Sinica Leidensia Edited by

Barend J. ter Haar Maghiel van Crevel In co-operation with

P.K. Bol, D.R. Knechtges, E.S. Rawski, W.L. Idema, H.T. Zurndorfer


Xun Xu and the Politics of Precision in Third-Century AD China By

Howard L. Goodman


On the cover: The author’s own cover design shows a third-century figurine of a di-flute player (adapted from Wu Zhao, Zhuixian shiqu de yinyue zongji; cited Figure 9, p. 227). We can imagine this as Lie He, the flute expert and ensemble leader from whom Xun Xu gained technical knowledge. Yet Xun also remeasured and refashioned Lie’s way of making flutes and playing modal music by imposing his ideal of Zhou standards. (The E. Zhou bronze rule is adapted from photograph supplied by Nanjing University; cited Figure 4, p. 176.) This book is printed on acid-free paper. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Goodman, Howard L. Xun Xu and the politics of precision in third-century AD China / by Howard L. Goodman. p. cm. — (Sinica leidensia, ISSN 0169-9563 ; v. 95) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-18337-7 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Xun, Xu, d. 289. 2. Historians—China—Biography. 3. Scholars—China—Biography. 4. China—Intellectual life—221 B.C.-960 A.D. 5. China—Politics and government—220-589. 6. China—History—Chin dynasty, 265-419. 7. China—History—Three kingdoms, 220-265. I. Title. II. Series. DS748.44.X86G66 2010 931.0072’02—dc22 [B] 2009053995

ISSN 0169-9563 ISBN 978 90 04 18337 7 Copyright 2010 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands



To the spirit of learning and antiquity imparted by my father Mortimer Goodman (1917–1981), and the support toward that of my mother Sophia. Also to the spirit of sinology imparted by Hellmut Wilhelm, Frederick W. Mote, and Denis Twitchett, as well as their unforgotten friendship and that of their families.



Dedication ..............................................................................


List of Maps, Figures, and Tables ..............................................


introduction: the zhengsheng 正聲 mode ........................ Showing Up in Shishuo xinyu .............................................. Biography Large and Small ................................................. A More Real Xuan .............................................................

1 1 5 12

Directions Toward a More Real Xuanxue ...............................


Conclusions, Findings, and Suggestions ............................... Xun Xu’s Use of Zhou Antiquity ........................................ Politics of Precision .........................................................

22 22 23

Archeology, Historiography, and the History of Sciences and Technologies ........................................................ The Earliest Sources for Xun Xu’s Life ................................

The Seven Chapters and Acknowledgments .........................

25 27 29

1. the xuns of yingyin and luoyang ................................. Commemorating Kin and Supporting Learning: Yingchuan to about 212 ad ............................................. The Lay of the Land ...................................................... Xun Leadership In and Around Yingyin ............................

38 40 43

The “Commemorative Tablet 碑 for Prefect of Palace Writers Xun Yu” ........................................................................ Xun Yijing Scholarship .....................................................

50 52

The Xuns in Luoyang to about 282: Sorting Out Zhengshi Styles and Establishing Jin Imperial Ties .......................... Xun Can, a Prototype of the Zhengshi-era Mavericks ...........

57 59

Xun Yi and the Traditional Path Followed by Can’s Older Siblings ............................................................. The Impact of Xun Scholarship in Luoyang ......................... Xun Musicologists and Legists ........................................... Xun Xu’s Foothold onto a New Career ................................

Xun-Family Pathos in an Entombed Epitaph of 295 ad ........ “Commemoration for Xun Yue of Yingchuan Yingyin, Jin-[Era] Late Gentleman-in-Attendance of the Palace Writers” ...............................................................


62 65 69 72 75 78


contents Xun Wives and Daughters ................................................ Material and Evocative Aspects of Xun Burials ....................

Memory and Counter-Memory ...........................................

80 82 84

2. xun xu’s first posts, ca. 248–265 ................................. The Political Taint of Cao Shuang’s Regime, 240–249 .......... Former Cao-Wei Men as Ethically Correct Jin Stalwarts ........ The Cooperative Exegete ..................................................... Factions ........................................................................... Anti-Xun Xu Roots in the Wu War Factionalism ................. The Tone of Xun Xu’s Early Career ..................................... Factions as Cooperative Struggle .........................................

91 94 100 103 107 109 111 118

3. aesthetics and precision in court ritual songs, ca. 266–272 ........................................................................ Wealth and Collecting; Design and Construction ................ A Coterie of Lyric-Writers for Court Music .......................... Higher and Lower Music; Court Music and Party Music ........ A Lyric-Writing Competition .............................................. The Song-Writers as Political Actors ................................... Competing Lyrics for the Dance-Song Performances ............. A Turn toward an Aesthetic of Precision ............................... The Aesthetic and Philosophic Thrust of Xun’s Lyrics ............ Who Was the Xun Balladeer? .............................................

121 123 125 127 1 33 136 140 150 153 15 5

4. commandeering staff and proclaiming precision, ca. 273–274 ........................................................................ 161 High-Stepping into Bureaus and Imperial Holdings ............. 163 Problems in the Bureaucratic Structure of the Palace Writers Office ............................................................. 164 An Archival Project with Zhang Hua .................................. 168

The Wider World of Metrology ........................................... Xun Xu’s Metrology ............................................................ Xun Xu the Hypersentient “Metrosophist” .......................... Xun Chuo, Writing For and About Family ..........................

171 175 177 179

The Earliest Descriptions of the Process behind Xun’s Metrology ........................................................... 180

The Inner Story of Xun’s Metrology ..................................... 183 The Antiquarian Flurry ....................................................... 187 Xun Xu’s 274 ad Colophon Stating Seven Old Devices as Metrological Witnesses ................................................. Tracing Ghosts of the Official Bronze Foot-Rule of Jin .........

1 91 194 Li Chunfeng’s Antiquarian Jury .......................................... 197 Li Chunfeng Throws Solvent on Legend and Evidence .......... 203



Ritual Mensuration, Music, and Early Sciences .................... 207 The Prisca Zhou ............................................................. 208 Habits of Science in the Third Century: Status, Sites, Techniques ................................................................. 212

5. a martinet of melody, ca. 274–277 .................................. Problems of Pipes and Pitches ............................................. Flutes, Regulated Pitch, and Musical Scales ......................... Xun Xu’s Regulators and Di-Flutes .................................... Xun Xu’s Flutes Versus Lie He’s Mode ................................. Songshu’s Bundle of Documents On Xun Xu’s Musicology .....

215 217 217 225 228 228

Annotated Translation of Xun Xu’s Memorial of 274 ad and Xun’s Dialog with Lie He ........................................


Songshu Part 17: Xun Xu’s Flute Temperament and the Impact of New Modes .................................................... 256 The Pitch Distortions That Xun Xu’s New Flute Indirectly Attempted to Solve ...................................................... 259 The Modal Variety That Xun Xu Attempted to Thwart ......... 263

Proto-Sage Versus Martinet ................................................. 265 Ruan Xian’s Complaint: The Flutes Are Shrill and Laden with Grief ......................................................... 266 Ruan Xian in Mundane Terms .......................................... 269 The Ruan Xian and Shan Tao Legends as Framed by Western Jin Politics ...................................................... 272

6. a new day, new antiquities, new factions, ca. 277–284 .. Policies That Shooed Off the Princes and Promoted the Rank-and-File ................................................................ A New Day: Victory Celebrations ....................................... First Reactions to the Ji Tomb ............................................. Antiquities Emerge as Victory Is Celebrated ........................

279 281 286 290 292

Translation of the“Mu Tianzi Zhuan” Preface by Xun Xu’s Official Team, Written 282–83 ........................... 295 The Team Members ........................................................ 301

The Ji-Tomb Texts Are Folded into Ongoing Work on the Jin Palace Classics Register (Jin Zhongjing Bu) .............. The Rest of the World Weighs In ........................................ Calligraphy and Access .................................................... The Zhang Hua Ambit .................................................... Xun Xu and Zhang Hua as Forces in the Jin Offices for Historiography .............................................. Changes in Methods of Historiography ............................... Chronology as Theory and Practice ....................................

305 312 313 320 325 334 334

Xun Xu’s Attempt to Impose a Zhou Chronology in the “First” Annals Edition ............................................. 336


contents The Use of Shiji, and Several Candidates for the “Other” Annals Edition ............................................................. 338

A Foot-Rule Bubbles Up as Attacks on Xun Xu Begin .......... 346 7. “they ’ ve stolen my phoenix pool”, 284–89 and beyond ... 351 Zhi Yu’s Ambit and a New Anti-Xunism .............................. 352 Zhi Yu’s and Wang Jie’s Ideas about the Historiographical Value of Commentaries ................................................. 353 Xun Xu in a Time of Anti-Xunism ..................................... 362

Assessments in 286 of Hua Qiao’s History of Later Han ......... Xun Xu’s Demotion and Demise ......................................... The Post-Xun Xu Resumption of the Debate about Where to Begin the Jin Dynasty ...................................... Prisca Antiqua: The Spirit of Western Jin Scholarship and Letters ...................................................................... The Primordial as Contactable .......................................... The Personal as Contactable .............................................

365 367 370 374 375 378

Bibliography ........................................................................... 383 Index ...................................................................................... 397




Map. Details of Yingchuan Commandery and the Luoyang Area ............................................................. facing List 1. Items of Xun-Family Intellectual Culture ......................... Figure 1. Seven Generations of Xuns (with Notes) ...................... Figure 2. Trajectories of Xun-Family Skills .................................. Figure 3. Xun Xu: Associations, Antagonisms, Influences ............ Figure 4. An Eastern Zhou Bronze chi ........................................ Figure 5. Ruan Yuan’s Depiction of Gao Ruona’s “Former Jin chi”.. Figure 6A. Twelve Pitch-standards (ps), or Lülü 律呂 ................ Figure 6B. Order of Computational Steps to Produce the Twelve Lülü .......................................................................... Figure 6C. Two Heptatonic Chinese Scales, With Notes Correlated to the Twelve Lülü ............................................... Figure 6D. The Zhengsheng Scale Mapped to the Piano’s White Keys .......................................................................... Figure 7. Fragments of Late-Warring States Bamboo Pitch-pipes ........................................................................... Figure 8. Two Bamboo Transverse Flutes ..................................... Figure 9. Figurine of Long-Flute, or Di 笛 , Player ...................... Figure 10A. One of Several Extant Tang-era chiba 尺八 ............... Figure 10B. Layout of Di Finger Holes ....................................... Figure 11. Ruan Xian and His Lute; Shan Tao and His Drinking Gourd ................................................................... Table 1. Thirteen Men in Xun Xu’s Ambit Who Were Mature during the Cao Shuang Years ................................................ Table 2. Found-Objects Relevant to Xun’s Metrology and Musicology .................................................................... Table 3. Xun Xu’s Metrological and Musicological Creations ....... Table 4. Five of Li Chunfeng’s Fifteen Categories: Selected for Relevance to Xun Xu ............................................................ Table 5. Xun Xu’s and Zhang Hua’s Influence in Western Jin Historiography Offices .......................................

35 88 44 54 74 176 195 221 221 221 224 226 226 227 228 265 272 96 188 191 199 326


THE ZHENGSHENG 正聲ʳMODE Those who probe and search the dark depths have been doing so ever since Wang [Bi] and He [Yan] 研 求幽邃自王何以還 . Those who according to their times revise in stitutions are in the spirit of Xun and Yue 因時修制荀樂之風 . 1

Showing up in Shishuo xinyu In the above passage from the fifth-century Shishuo xinyu 世說新語 , Xun Xu 荀勗 (d. 289) shows up as just a flicker in the eye of compilers and commentators long after his time. It is a truism that myth and fact, or legend and historiographical narrative, intersect and approach each other through different ways of telling and writing. They seem different by their social contexts and the contexts of their authors and “tellers,” but they both can inspire a common pride of place and culture, and they can carry warnings. Throughout my seven chapters, besides material that is technical and prosaic concerning Xun’s outrageous influence at the imperial court and vast intellectual achievements, I offer in addition a reflection on him that reveals a troubled legend. To Shishuo xinyu readers, “Yue 樂 ” in the above epigraph was a surname, but finding a specific Yue was not easy. To complicate things, readers would also recall that “Xun” and “music 樂 ” fit together: Shishuo xinyu’s chapter 20 on “Technical Understanding,”2 as well as technical treatises and an evolving historiography, all pointed to Xun’s life as devoted to precision, and his corrected musical scale was criticized by one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove, giving Xun something of an infamous tinge. Thus Xun Xu’s legend was encountering difficulty very early in its career. 1

SSXYJJ no. 2.99, pp. 119–20. Cf. Richard Mather’s trans., SSHY/Mather, p. 75. Two anecdotes about Xun lead off the Shishuo chapter, in which he is both scolded and cast as weird for his powers of perception; see SSHY/Mather nos. 20.1–2, pp. 357– 59. Xun Xu’s appearance in Shishuo is treated in detail in chap. 5. 2



We return to the difficulty of the epigraph. “Xun” may refer to both Xun and his older kinsman Xun Yi 顗 (d. 274), both court-commissioned scholars who worked on institutional texts. “Yue” can only be guessed at: a literatus named Yue Guang 樂廣 (d. perhaps 304), but not associated with the Xuns and not a shaper of court institutions.3 Yue was known as a qingtan 清談 type of wit. He lived later than both Xuns and had nothing to do with their political faction; he did once take sides in 298, when the court overturned the late Xun Xu’s opinion concerning Jin historiography.4 How, then, do the two surnames function in parallel with those of Wang and He? The quip purports to come from the mouth of a former northern military leader Zhang Tianxi 張天錫 (ca. 344–404), now in the southern capital. He had just been asked by a certain unidentifiable party to assess for young southerners the worth of those many literati who had come from the north over the course of perhaps seventy-five years. The general does not take one side or the other. Diplomatically, he judges contemporary qingtan scholars of the xuan 玄 , or “mystery”—the more common description applied to those leisurely, free and independent souls—as stemming from two Wei-era paragons who many blamed for the Wei’s demise. But what does one do with Zhang’s reference, next, to men who took care of rites and codes— researchers into realities, not into the dark depths? Did Zhang disapprove of both camps, or neither, or only one? The popular choice would have been Wang and He, since in Shishuo xinyu and many other belles lettres, those two were often made to seem so ethereal as to be precursors of the divine, philosophical monks of Jiangnan.5 For the Xun–Yue part of the anecdote, it is odd that “Yue 樂” comes right after “Xun 荀,” since the “spirit” of Xun Xu’s “institutional revisions” was in fact musicological.6 If Yue Guang was the person meant, 3

Mather, ibid., p. 611. The earliest commentary by Liu Jun 劉峻 (462-521) emphasizes that it was “laws and norms 法制” for which the name Xun was known, but not the name Yue; the commentary does not speculate on which Yue this was. 4 On his wit, see JS 35, p. 1042; and 36, p. 1067; on the historiography debate, see 40, p. 1174. In the context of that debate Yue is referred to as Palace Attendant 侍中, a post often associated with historiography (see chap. 7, sect. “The Post-Xun Xu Resumption of the Debate about Where to Begin the Jin Dynasty”). 5 For an example of sighing approval of Wang–He in Shishuo, see SSHY/Mather no. 8.51, p. 226; in different form in JS 36, p. 1067. Shishuo items of this type are used extensively in the discussion by Hou Wailu 侯外盧 et al., Zhongguo sixiang tongshi 中國 思想通史 (Beijing: Renmin chubanshe, 1957) 3, pp. 75–79. 6 My book uses this word without reference to the terminology and methods of modern musicologists. In the period 200–1800, certain Chinese scholars were at various times



then why would Zhang equate or contrast two famous associates, Wang and He, with two men who had never met and had little in common intellectually? One solution to the imbalance in the parallelism is that Xun and Yue signify conservative Confucianism: there is a Shishuo anecdote in which Yue counseled young men not to rebel against social etiquette as had Ruan Ji 阮籍 (210–263) and the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove. He said that “In the Moral Teaching itself there are also enjoyable places.”7 But General Zhang’s quip is not a syllogism in which Wang–He liberation qua libertinism becomes trumped by solid Confucian text men. First of all, to be featured in Shishuo xinyu meant that the persona gives lessons on developing an insouciant sociability and on imbibing culture in a pleasureful way, but more importantly on avoiding anxiety through proper metaphysical knowledge. It is Zhang Tianxi who enters the focus; he will supply the model of insouciant sociability. Zhang wants his interlocutor to know that great men of the past may be divided into two cyclically arising camps, just as his own life had been subject to the two primal forces yin and yang, for which he mentions the Yijing. Both camps are equal in moral essence, and all that is required is to ride out the cycles of intellectual fashion, never getting too involved with one. Qingtan and court Confucianism were these cyclical camps to be endured without obsession. Thus what we have from Zhang is a balanced warning. The first part of the warning is that qingtan / xuanxue 玄學 scholars should not be obsessed by their reveries and obscure research. For the second part, we should keep in mind that Xun Xu’s musicology works well in the background, giving us obsessive musicology added to Yue’s moralism. The lesson here is that scholars of ritual too should not obsess. My book is a biography of an obsessed scholar, Xun Xu. The title’s phrase “and the politics of precision” indicates that Xun Xu’s life, yeartasked by the court, or they independently developed an interest in harmonics and absolute pitch, and in court songs and performances. Their arguments often drew upon the early classics and special guides, only a small part of which has remained. Most scholars who pursued music would not have been considered special technical advisers, as experts in astrology and shushu 數術 arts often were. By Han and in Xun Xu’s time, as we see in chaps. 4 and 5, a classicist music expert was clearly distinguishable from low-ranked music experts serving in palace music offices; yet I prefer to call them both “musicologists,” although Xun in particular would still have been considered a generalist scholar. By Sui and Tang, musicology began to be seen as a relatively technical and specialist study benefiting the state, as were the arts of mathematics, calligraphy, and law. 7 SSHY/Mather no. 1.23, p. 12.



by-year, is embedded in political activity of a certain kind. My chapters consistently reveal factional entanglements, debates on policy, and personal struggles; yet the focus is on the details of his efforts to measure, correct, and restructure—sometimes as concerns texts and words and history, and sometimes as concerns physical objects and sounds. My interpretation of politics reveals more than the presence of friction over dynastic succession and state policy; it is also about the politics of a certain criticism that was becoming sensitive to ideals of personality and to scholars’ literary styles and activities as collectors (of texts, art, music, and calligraphy). I will try to answer the question: why in such a context was precision often a difficult aesthetic to accept? These new ideals and styles are in fact glimpsed for the first time in the 260s through 310s among Xun Xu’s peers. But those peers, who I believe were the early fashioners of the Shishuo xinyu critique, would soon demote Xun Xu, and along with such demotion came fewer chances at literary commemoration. Just as he was handled in Shishuo, so too the historical facts on Xun Xu are broken up and inconsistent; furthermore they are influenced by later editing, which tended to split Xun into two—a legendary factionalist and a legendary technical wizard whose inventions were fenced off inside specialist treatises. How might we today create a large, interpretive view of this thirdcentury figure? How do we get a “modern” biography in all the good senses of the word “modern”? I do not want to present merely an ancient Chinese type of social biography called “accounts of conduct 行 狀 .” I want to range through information that is found around, before, and after Xun in order to comment meaningfully on his life and on the way people of his time received him. Going in the opposite direction, we also need small details. As a result we must know all of Xun Xu’s peers, and we must bore into each of Xun’s technical investigations, explicate them, and deduce personal and social motivations. We would like to know as much as he himself knew in each subject, and deduce how he received and developed skills. Of considerable interest would be to deduce a principle inherent in his skills. Was a genius of his day expected to have different systems for ordering a variety of arts? Or did one system hold them all together? My Introduction goes into these problems of large and small, and of interpretive texture; it also provides details about the book’s structure. Below, the first section takes up the genre of biography—not on a theoretical level, but at the level of how it can even work given limited extant material concerning a poorly narrated and understood pe-



riod of history. The next section has to do with an interpretive theme that I believe helps build up a “large view.” It involves the so-called xuanxue trend (or, as it is unfelicitously translated, “mystery school”) of the period 220–290. Loooking ahead, Chapter One will argue that the pre-Zhengshi 正始 , and later the actual Zhengshi, spirit of xuanxue philosophy and debate of the Zhengshi reign period (240–49) had an indirect impact on Xun Xu, therefore the Introduction discusses modern scholarship’s treatment of that “spirit” and how a bit of reform in our categories can bring out a better level of interpretation. In my opinion, the backdrop of early xuanxue, which is highly specific socially, relating to just a few dozen people and a handful of coteries, also contains seeds of historicist emotion that Chinese writers of 250–400 ad used to recast values about the past, the state, and the self. The third section previews the book’s major conclusions and themes. After that comes a note on the types of source material that constitute the Xun Xu biography. Finally, I sketch the seven chapters, mentioning each one’s chronological high points, any previously published version, and acknowledging the help I received. Biogr aphy large and small As others have said about their book projects, it came out of, if not exactly a footnote, then a row in a table. In about 2004 I hauled out an old seminar paper from graduate school days in order to update it for possible publication. The paper had attempted to say something about systematic skills and numerate ideas in Yijing commentaries of late-Han and Wei in the context of the history of sciences.8 I decided to widen that by including practitioners of calendars, musicology, astronomy/astrology, healing, and various mantic arts, and to account for regional differences. It then began to look as if I would write a book on the situation of precision from about 170 to 300 ad. I reviewed findings from my dissertation and was reminded of the two or three Yingchuan Xuns who were involved with Yijing; but another Xun came up as an expert in ritual music—Xun Xu. 8

This was titled “Wang Pi’s (226–49 ad) Book of Changes: A Case Study in China’s Derailment of Her Calculation Arts,” presented at Princeton University, History of Science Colloquium, May, 1984; the title contains a proposition I no longer support. The draft for the paper contained tabulations and listings of various experts in numerate skills, divination, and Yijing.



I wondered if Xun Xu would go into my table, which categorized technical “thought” into, for example, musicology, calendars, and divination; also whether numerate ideas and computation were involved; and if such arts showed up in the person’s Yijing or other classicist writing, or as discussion among peers. In order to include Xun Xu I had to be confident that he had actually done such things as compute, measure, or design via images or numbers or models; that is, not just general remarks about the hallowed social role of music and nothing else. Needham’s Science and Civilisation in China and Mather’s translation of the major Xun Xu anecdote in Shishuo showed me that the facts of Xun’s technical doings were not yet understood. That project has since been reconceived as an article, which may see light in a year or two. But I did quickly determine that Xun Xu was a systematic musicologist (among his several research areas). I did not stop at the surface facts that said Xun examined old objects like ancient bell-sets to determine the proper pitch. I wanted to know which bells those were (if in fact bells), if the evidence was reliable, and what he said and did musicologically? I had to piece together both small, troubling bits and long source-passages of nearly incomprehensible technical jargon. After false starts, and the importuning of various readers, I decided to construct the whole life just as it played out chronologically. Working on and off for over four years, I have discovered that Xun’s life moved from techne to techne, each one contributing to his persona and helping to build a dramatic career arc. Here I want to remark on the nature of intellectual biographies. It seems obvious that whatever the major literate culture, the relatively early eras, with their specific types of thought and materials, are more difficult for us. Historians have to train, even strain, to “hear” the intent of lives from before, let us say, the eighteenth century; and thirdcentury lives become more “foreign” than those even of the eighth. It is one reason why we tend to indicate such differences with era-names, like “early medieval.” Furthermore, historians can sometimes alter their very methods of “hearing.” In some sense, perhaps a positivist one, the craft has got better recently. Thus to organize a biography of a renowned third-century Chinese official by modeling on similar biographies written by pre-1930 Chinese scholars, or by Western sinologists who did not go past the traditional formats, would obscure far more than clarify. Much has changed since about 1980: Western historians are now linguistically agile and have even influenced the way Chinese scholars themselves, who suffered enormous institutional setbacks



from about 1930–80, go about the craft, and, finally, Western scholars have benefited immensely from recent Chinese developments. Studies of post-1800 China are extensive and illuminating—and at the level of the best social, intellectual, and cultural history worldwide. Biographies of figures from 1800 to today abound and are rich in material and interpretation; and studies of 1600–1800 China are catching up. For early, especially early-medieval, China, however, intellectual biographies do not abound, and even general scholarship—for example, intertextual translations with full apparatus, concordances, thematic studies—has not risen so swiftly. Yet it has improved since the mid-1980s. Typical of the improvement is the work on literature, literary genres, and brief biographies and chronologies of Chinese poets of the 50–500 ad period.9 With the rapid growth and changes in Chinese universities have come new, or updated, chronological compendia, such as Lu Kanru’s Zhonggu wenxue xinian (also the earlier work of Liu Rulin, Han Jin xueshu biannian).10 We also are getting, especially from Chinese scholars, vertical chronologies (nianpu 年普 ), continuing a fundamental form of biographical organization in traditional Chinese letters; increasingly these are becoming interpretive.11 Prosopographies are on the rise, notably a strong showing from literary specialists in the West.12 If we move beyond the fertile field of literature, we see that Buddhist studies beginning even as early as the 1950s and 60s in the West, brought out useful biographies relative to pre-600 China, as well as thematic and even genre studies, to borrow that term from 9

We have full, annotated collections of verse that update older examples of this type (see Lu Qinli, as cited in this book’s Bibliography). For genre studies, the following broke new ground: Gong Kechang, Studies on the Han Fu, trans. David Knechtges et al. (New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1997); Dominik Declercq, Writing Against the State: Political Rhetorics in Third and Fourth Century China (Leiden: Brill, 1998); and Mark Laurent Asselin, “‘A Significant Season.’ Literature in a Time of Endings: Cài Yōng and a Few Contemporaries,” Ph.D. diss. (Seattle: University of Washington, 1997). For excellent short biographies, see those included in David R. Knechtges Wenxuan translation series from Princeton Press, and in the Indiana Companion volumes as well. 10 For full citations, see Bibliography. Liu’s catchment was broader than Lu’s, taking in technical innovators, monk-philosophers, historians, classicists, and so on. See also Cao Daoheng 曹道衡 and Shen Yucheng 沈玉成, Zhonggu wenxue shiliao congkao 中 古文學史料叢考 (Beijing: Zhonghua, 2003). 11 Just a brief sample, on the Caos: Zhang Keli 張可禮, San Cao nianpu 三曹年譜 (Jinan: Qi Lu shushe, 1983); idem, “Cao Pi” 曹丕, in Mou Shijin 牟世金, ed.-in-chief, Zhongguo gudai wenlunjia pingzhuan 中國古代文論家評傳 (Zhengzhou: Zhongzhou guji chubanshe, 1988), pp. 145–59. 12 Another mere sampling: C. M. Lai, “River and Ocean: The Third Century Verse of Pan Yue and Lu Ji,” Ph.D. diss. (University of Washington, 1990); Cynthia Chen-



literature. Buddhology tends to branch off, sometimes staying technical and outside of social history, but good biography in that field remains paramount. Many early Buddhists were non-Han from areas far to the west, approaching China and its systems of belief from an outside angle. Moreover, early Buddhist letters developed formats of biography that were based on older Chinese models that obscured matters of belief and conversion—matters that a modern biographer finds compelling and in need of interpretation.13 My idea of a good, large-scale and interpretive biography is Donald Holzman’s Poetry and Politics, a study of Ruan Ji published in 1976 by Cambridge. It was written before the just-mentioned rise in literary studies. Holzman’s task was difficult, especially because of the dearth of previous large-scale biographical attempts, even though figures like Ruan and his peers have been extremely popular among critics and writers in China since 300 ad. Neither Holzman’s Preface nor Introduction alludes to a research-defining previous shoulder on which to stand. His bibliography shows a good number of journal articles from the late 1930s to 60s that treated Ruan’s specific poems or genres, and a few short articles that may be about aspects of his life. The only clear indication of giant shoulders, and mentioned as a scholarly guide in Holzman’s Preface, is Yoshikawa Kōjirō’s 吉川幸次郎 “Gen Seki den” 阮籍傳 , which is in fact not all that long. (I have not examined it in order to say exactly how Holzman took off from Yoshikawa’s points of view and findings.) Since Holzman, there has not been a biographical nault, “Lofty Gates or Solitary Impoverishment: Xie Family Members of the Southern Dynasties,” TP 85 (1999); and David Knechtges, “Sweet-peel Orange or Southern Gold: Regional Identity in Western Jin Literature,” in Paul Kroll and David Knechtges, eds., Studies in Early Medieval Chinese Literature and Cultural History (Provo, Utah: The T’ang Studies Society, 2003), pp. 27–79. 13 A model of Buddhist biography is Leon Hurvitz, Chih-i (538–597): An Introduction to the Life and Ideas of a Chinese Buddhist Monk, Mélanges chinois et bouddhiques 12 (Brussels, 1963); E. Zürcher has always furthered the social context of the Buddhist figures he treats. This is brought out in the foreword by Stephen F. Teiser to the new edition of Zürcher’s The Buddhist Conquest of China (Leiden: Brill, 2007); see also several of Zürcher’s articles from the 1990s; other advances in social context have been Victor Mair, Tang Transformation Texts: A Study of the Buddhist Contribution to the Rise of Vernacular Fiction and Drama in China, Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series 28 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U. P., 1989); and Daniel Boucher, “Dharmarak ™a and the Transmission of Buddhism to China,” AM 19.1–2 (2006), pp. 13–37. A model study of a Buddhist philosophical “genre” and how it revealed its practitioners’ minds, is Richard Robinson, Early Mâdhya mika in India and China (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967). Much new work is proceeding on language, genres, and even how remains of oral exegesis are found in early Chinese sutra translations, and I can only briefly mention the scholars Paul Harrison, Funayama Toru, and Ming-Wood Liu.



approach at the same level. Holzman looked at clusters of years in the life-span of Ruan, took stock of his family and local and court connections, as well as Ruan’s location and social links at various times, then determined what pieces of prose and/or poetry seemed to represent an intellectual problem confronting Ruan, or a critical face that Ruan could erect for the public. Holzman plumbed deeply into the defining spaces of genres and how they fit those problems and those faces in order to give us Ruan Ji’s trajectory of emotion and brooding about society. That Holzman’s biography occupies a lonely place may come as a surprise.14 In fact, the “large view” biography for early-medieval Chinese history still languishes. Even the late-Han end of the spectrum, which is generally more advanced than, for example, Northern Dynasties literature, still awaits deep, richly textured studies of key personalities, for example, a study of Zheng Xuan 鄭玄 (d. 200) that would place him inside family and teachers and into locales, also analyze his fields of expertise and explain the reception of Zheng-ism down to the end of Western Jin. With such a study we would gain an enormous foothold onto a time period that we do not yet feel totally comfortable in. I could name a dozen others yet undone: e.g., Wang Lang 王郎 (d. 228) and his son Su 肅 (195–256), encompassing numerous inner-court leaders with whom they dealt; Du Yu’s 杜預 (d. 284) polymath family; and the world of Zhang Hua 張華 (232–300), taking in his proteges Shu Xi 束皙 (ca. 263–ca. 302) and Zhi Yu 摯虞 (b. ca. 250, d. 311). We also need thematic studies of court institutions. Large advances will also come as early-medieval China’s art and material culture are developed, bringing treatments of aesthetics, mentalité, and criticism.15 That said, the small view of a person’s life and mind must not be overlooked: God still resides in the details. A modern example, even 14

There are a few attempts: e.g., Ronald C. Miao’s still useful Early Medieval Chinese Poetry: The Life and Verse of Wang Ts’an (A.D. 177–217) (Wiesbaden: Steiner Verlag, 1982), with his chapter “The Life of Wang Ts’an”; for translation of the standard-history biography of Wang Su, see R. P. Kramers, K’ung Tzŭ Chia Yü, The School Sayings of Confucius: Introduction, Translation of Sections 1–10, with Critical Notes (Leiden: Brill, 1950); and in the same way a biography of Fu Xuan, in Jordan D. Paper, The Fu-tzu: A Post-Han Confucian Text, Monographies du T’oung pao 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1987). A new full-scale biography is J. Michael Farmer’s, The Talent of Shu: Qiao Zhou and the Intellectual World of Early Medieval Sichuan (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY, 2007). None of these examples constructs a life using the level of social interpretation achieved by Holzman. 15 See Audrey Spiro’s engrossing Contemplating the Ancients: Aesthetic and Social Issues in Early Chinese Portraiture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990).



if outlandish, helps make my point. If we want to know about the life of a modern artist-critic like Robert Crumb, and his brilliant cartoons of the San Francisco “flower power” years, then we can appreciate the kind of detail found in the 1995 film biography Crumb, by Terry Zwigoff. We listen to Crumb and his peers talk about line-drawing, sex as imagery and reality, comics as art-form and marketplace, as the years progress from Crumb’s youth to 1995. Crumb’s drawings are thrown into huge scale on-screen so that our minds wander in delight as we attempt our own critiques. Any life-story of an engaging, or simply shocking, thinker provides an opportunity for such grand views of small things. My biography of Xun Xu takes in literary details; Chapter Three bears this out with a detailed analysis of Xun’s prosodic rhythm in verse. But this is only a part: the biography is also rooted in the history of thought and ideology (which I would define as politically or socially constructed ideas meant to manipulate sectors of a population or just the political public), as well as the history of sciences and technologies. Leading figures of Chinese thought from that large century comprising 170–315, or even the wider 100–500 ad period, have only garnered a small handful of modern-style biographies (discounting some that merely repeat the pre-1900 xingzhuang form). I mentioned, above, the lack of intellectual biographies of late-Han men like Zheng Xuan. Scholarship has yet to define even the terms of discourse for the “small views”: what was “thought” in that period (does it include belles lettres)? How can we align an argument between two writers on even one topic? What was philosophy? We remain unsure about the terms of guwen 古文 (“ancient text” classicism); and we are not yet sufficiently aligning religious needs and forms (like Daoist activities and writings, mortuary iconographies, filial observances) with individual lives. I am not arguing that all of this must eventually be made orderly: there will always be loose ends and ample debate, but biographies will make extremely useful paths through all of it, and will promote clarity.16 Once we focus on the details of Xun Xu’s technologies, it makes demands of the reader. The details are not easily depicted, as are works of portraiture and calligraphy; in fact, even though Xun was accomplished in those two arts, we have no examples. What we do have are 16

Inroads into the small-scale approach to the history of thought exist: I have mentioned Declercq and Asselin, above (n. 9), and Robinson (n. 13); see also Robert G. Henricks, Philosophy and Argumentation in Third-Century China: The Essays of Hsi K’ang (Princeton: Princeton U. P., 1983); and I discuss Wang Baoxuan, below.



his measurements, his research approach to ritual constructions and devices, his reactionary aesthetics of prosody and musical scales, and his attempts at archeological retrieval and interpretation. More than anything, his life is a “science life.” Biographies of scientifically oriented minds in the 200–600 ad period of China are practically nil. Studies of sciences and technical thought generally are better for the much earlier Qin-Han period,17 but as for biographies, that latter period also is lacking, although there is enough material to build up the lives of far-ranging geniuses who devoted their careers to mathematical and numerological, as well as mechanical, systems—men like Jing Fang 京房 (d. 37 bc), Yang Xiong 揚雄 (53 bc–18 ad), and Zhang Heng 張衡 (78–139 ad). 18 Thus to gain perspective, I have looked to the literature on Western medieval and premodern sciences, and would hope in the present biography to have reached even half way to the level achieved in Anthony Grafton’s tour de force study of the technical exegetical revolution set in play by Joseph Scaliger. The latter work fulfills the goals of an intellectual biography that can be both large and interpretive, yet built upon episodes of personal, technical controversy. In pre-1750 Europe, as in Xun Xu’s world, such technics were not professionalized, but are to be seen as innovations in scholarly method 17

On an early-Tang monk-polymath, see Chen Jinhua’s Philosopher, Practitioner, Politician: The Many Lives of Fazang (643–712) Sinica Leidensia 75 (Leiden: Brill, 2007)—not social history per se. (The Tang remains fertile ground for research into the social and political bases of technology, science, and ritual studies.) The third-c. mathematician Liu Hui 劉徽 leaves no traces of his life, but see He Peng Yoke’s entry in vol. 8 of Charles Coulston Gillispie, editor-in-chief, Dictionary of Scientific Biography (New York: Scribner, 1973), pp. 418–25. On Qin-Han sciences, see Nathan Sivin, “Cosmos and Computation in Early Chinese Mathematical Astronomy,” TP 55.1–3 (1969); G. E. R. Lloyd and Nathan Sivin, The Way and the Word: Science and Medicine in Early China and Greece (New Haven: Yale U. P., 2002); Christopher Cullen, Astronomy and Mathematics in Ancient China: The Zhou bi suan jing (Cambridge: Cambridge U. P., 1996); and for biography per se, we have the life of a court technocrat: Derk Bodde, China’s First Unifier: A Study of the Ch’in Dynasty as Seen in the Life of Li Ssŭ, 280?–208 B.C. (1938; rpt. Hong Kong: Hong Kong U. P., 1967). 18 Jing’s life and works were discussed in detail by the late Jack Dull, “A Historical Introduction to the Apocryphal (ch’an-wei) Texts of the Han Dynasty,” Ph.D. diss. (University of Washington, 1966); it is a starting point for a large study of Jing. Yang has been studied in the context of philosophy: see Michael Nylan and Nathan Sivin, “The First Neo-Confucianism: An Introduction to the ‘Canon of Supreme Mystery’ (T’ai hsuan ching, ca. 4 B.C.),” in Sivin, Medicine, Philosophy, and Religion in Ancient China: Researches and Reflections, Variorum Collected Studies series (Aldershot: Variorum, 1995), but Yang still requires a history-of-science approach as part of an intellectual biography. The near future will bring a technology- and literature-oriented life of Zhang Heng in the form of a University of Washington Ph.D. dissertation.



and outlook. Also I note Grafton’s social-historical study of Girolamo Cardano, which holds the chief character up to a warm light to reveal family influence on his astrological training.19 Ultimately, my biography of Xun Xu has no direct models in early China studies, but the chapters utilize and cite modern technical researchers who have toiled brilliantly in the small details. For example, I draw on scholars in the history of late-second and thirdcentury yuefu 樂府 poetry; historians of technologies who fleshed out details of Xun’s metrology; and the several leading Chinese researchers in early Chinese musicology writing since the 1950s about Xun Xu’s flute temperamentology. All have provided keys to my life of Xun Xu, yet no one brought it all together in one format, or has narrated career, emotions, and developments. I ultimately think back to Donald Holzman’s task.20 A more real


I wish to use tight, small views to make a larger, interpretive biography. For this, Holzman showed the significance of literary studies—writers’ ideas, lives, and genres. But we cannot attempt exactly that kind of study of Xun Xu, since he leaves no classical commentaries or belles lettres that reveal these things. I do examine his poetry, but it was written almost entirely for court ritual occasions, hardly personal and not even a genre that excited later poets and critics. In Chapter Five I examine a prose text that was in fact personally revealing, even a bit emotional. But that piece (a dialog with an old flute master who supplied Xun the keys to understanding a music problem) does not connect Xun to wider social and critical opinions. To build the biography, I weave into those technical moments the vicissitudes of faction, criticism, and politics. But even politics can seem ephemeral. Therefore, to ground Xun Xu, I turn now to the spirit of xuanxue, even though Xun’s 19

Anthony Grafton, Joseph Scaliger: A Study in the History of Classical Scholarship (Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford U. P., 1983–1993); idem, Cardano’s Cosmos: The Worlds and Works of a Renaissance Astrologer (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U. P., 1999), esp. pp. 71–72; also excellent is Tamsyn Barton’s study of the life of Galen, Power and Knowledge: Astrology, Physiognomics, and Medicine under the Roman Empire (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1994). We have ample products of the last seventy-five years in these fields—apparatuses, translations, monographs and compendia; so it will not pay to make a summary bibliography here. 20 For a biographical tribute to the biographer Holzman himself, see Kroll and Knechtges, eds., Studies in Early Medieval Chinese Literature and Cultural History, pp. xxv-xxix.



work had no trace of the motifs found in the famous “Zhengshi timbre 正始之音 ” (a phrase that I comment on later). His work was positivist: he corrected and reconstructed received templates. His mind proceeded outside of xuanxue ideals and styles, even though his life was coterminous with xuanxue paragons like Zhong Hui 鍾會 (with whom he was close), Xiahou Xuan 夏侯玄 , He Yan 何晏 , and Wang Bi 王弼 . There is a solution that keeps this from being the kind of musings in “negative history” that ask why a certain phenomenon never became part of some other one, or why no influence from a certain source can be detected. It is that some of Xun Xu’s extended-family mentors were directly involved in the pre-Zhengshi (that is, the pre-240) formation of the new timbre of philosophical Luoyang, as Chapter One establishes. This xuanxue connection becomes a valuable way to place Xun Xu’s reactionary values and his aesthetics of precision directly into the famous Zhengshi period in which he lived as a young man. This is not the place to try to explain what xuanxue was, and why it developed the way it did starting before the Zhengshi reign-period. Such questions are fascinating, much like those concerning lixue 理學 and daoxue 道學 in Song times, and have received treatments in the past, beginning most importantly with early-Qing writers and then revisions in the 1930s and 1940s. Below, I summarize briefly the most persuasive of the positions, while staking out my own suggestions for a path along which to define and describe xuanxue more clearly. Something definitely happened starting around 220 ad among a handful of bright thinkers. Unlike guwen 古文 denial theories in recent scholarship, there is no attempt to “deny” xuanxue. We agree that a certain new timbre, or voice 音 , took hold. The movement, per se, has been periodized by early scholars: 1) 240–49, literati qingtan centered around the court leader Cao Shuang 曹爽 ; 2) 250–65, the lifestyles and philosophy of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove; 3) 265–316, courtiers of Western Jin; and 4) 316–420, a Buddhist revival of qingtan in the circles of the displaced elite in the South. 21 To this I propose adding the “pre-Zhengshi” period of 220–39, in Luoyang. The periodization shows general changes that must be considered. But 21

Richard Mather, “Chinese Letters and Scholarship in the Third and Fourth Centuries: The Wen-hsüeh P’ien of the Shih-shuo Hsin-yü,” JAOS 84.4 (1964), pp. 349–50, citing Miyazaki, “Seidan” 清談, Shirin 31 (1946). Periodization according to type, and indirectly chronological, was already asserted in the 1930s by Fan Shoukang 范壽康, Wei Jin zhi qingtan 魏晉之清談 (Shanghai, 1936), p. 5, who broke the phenomenon into 1. the mingli 名理 group of Zhong Hui et al.; 2. the xuanlun 玄論 group of Wang and



a caution has to be stated: life among the elite and subelite was big ; there were far more thinking individuals, self-conscious groups, and bold actions than just the famous few, or even the famous hundred or so in Shishuo. Moreover, we must not stop at a mere characterization of the enlarged century from 170–315 as having been one of breakdown, escape, liberation, and transformation. There were people building bridges, mapping, noting down travels, doing mathematics, carving on stone, organizing devotional cults, playing music, and correcting rites. We must learn about those before xuanxue can mature with new research and theories. There have been in my estimation five broad areas in which recent scholars have framed xuanxue. I find several of them particularly interesting, but also either fairly unresolvable until we get more interpretations of material, intellectual, and religious culture, or else are weakly defined and only formative. Ultimately, two other areas I think do offer room for fruitful exploration. First, let me review the interesting but less fruitful explanations of xuanxue. One deals with social theory (though often not defined as such), and the other with a method I would call internal history of philosophy. A certain social mechanism was used to explain the actions of some literati and social leaders after about 170 ad: namely, social disorder causes mental escapism. The end of Han was so disastrous that any who wrote and thought, and served the state, would have given up hope. They turned inward, or sought social hiding places. This has been around for centuries in Chinese critical literature, especially as a trope to criticize the escapists themselves. Taking in earlier Chinese frameworks while working out the problem even more elegantly, Etienne Balazs, writing in French in the late 1940s (later translated and edited), thought that literati at the end of Han exerted real “mental effort” to survive, and did so by consciously working to synthesize political philosophies in order to invest themselves somehow in a coming social order.22 In order to bring the social mechanism to bear directly on xuanxue, Balazs wrote another article, which charted three genHe; and 3. the kuangda 曠達 group of Ruan Ji and Xi Kang. This kind of breakdown derived from earlier criticism; it remained popular in later generations of Chinese writers on the subject, from Fung Yulan to Chen Yinke. (It is doubtful that Miyazaki’s writings were being read in China from 1937–60.) 22 Etienne Balazs,“Political Philosophy and Social Crisis at the End of the Han Dynasty,” idem, Chinese Civilization and Bureaucracy: Variations on a Theme, ed. Arthur Wright and trans. Mary Wright (New Haven: Yale U. P., 1964), pp. 195–200.



erations of xuanxue-ists, beginning with those who, reacting against Eastern Han chaos, created a “great wave of nihilism” (e.g., He Yan), followed by a generation of reactive libertines trying to work out religious answers, then a generation that experimented with utopian anarchy.23 Fung Yu-lan stands out clearly as the most creative theorist of xuanxue in the framework of the history of philosophy. As in many traditions of narrative history, a template (announced or not) hovers above; it dictates where the numerous and unresolved res gestae are all headed. Fung’s history of thought in this way is teleological.24 Ideas in early China can be seen moving from era to era, developing logically (however way that is defined) and/or as structural branchings. Fung characterizes the period 50–150 ad that preceded that of xuanxue to be one of “apocrypha and prognostic texts.” The third-century xuanxue reaction is then called a revival of Daoism. The keystone of the revival was to revamp the previous era, that is, the ancient Yijing and its Ten Wings commentaries, Laozi, and Zhuangzi in order to restore Confucianism to its pristine place, which had become tarnished. Those earlier, reified yin–yang arts and revelations had to give way to rational ontology, which teleologically made even further sense because of the sophisticated development that such ontology would experience seven centuries later with the writings of Song daoxue and lixue thinkers.25 Ultimately, our popular notion of a certain kind of third-century “neoDaoism” has come from Fung’s interpretive gambit. But it is a gambit that does not altogether satisfy when it must explain such “neo-Daoist” topics as (to state Fung’s categories) “self-transformation” and “the perfect man.”26 I do not think an internalist history of philosophy can stand up until such time as international sinology can interpret 23

Balazs, “Nihilist Revolt or Mystical Escapism: Currents of Thought in China during the Third Century A.D.,” in Wright and Wright, Chinese Civilization and Bureaucracy. In a study of intellectual trends mostly after 315 ad, Charles Holcombe, In the Shadow of the Han: Literati Thought and Society at the Beginning of the Southern Dynasties (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1994), favors the study of mentales: “Ideas and beliefs are real historical forces… .” (p. 19). He sees scholars who fled south after the fall of Luoyang as needing to recall, reinvent, and imagine what had existed at the fallen court in order to mount a displaced, new version. I reject merely one level of this argument: not so many things, customs, and ideas were lost, per se, so as to require reinvention; and in fact a lot of intellectual energy went into holding onto, yet revising saved genres and styles. 24 Fung Yu-lan, A History of Chinese Philosophy, trans. Derk Bodde (rpt. Princeton: Princeton U. P., 1953), vol. 2. 25 See ibid., esp. pp. 173–75, and 186–87. 26 In The Spirit of Chinese Philosophy, trans. E. R. Hughes (London: Kegan, Paul,



better the thought patterns in late-Han through Western Jin classicism, the essentials of quasi-Mahayana (or Sarvastivada) Buddhist activities, and the shapes and moods of China’s (in fact South and East Asia’s) mortuary and local/domestic religions that began far back in prehistory. Patterns in classicism are being addressed in current work. Although the area is far from achieving solid shape, it may achieve it in the next decades. This approach concerns the literary insights of the third century that reformed commentarial practice and altered what was considered canonic. In the 1930s and 40s Tang Yongtong 湯用彤 made the most significant inroad, going far beyond the traditional “history of Chinese classical learning” model typified by Pi Xirui 皮錫瑞 (1850– 1908). Tang carefully staked out coteries and regions that spawned xuan xue (the principal one being the gathering of scholars in Jingzhou 荊州 in the 190s to 208, and the influence upon them of Shu 蜀 scholars). More important was his deep interest in a variety of evidences and problems dealing with the direct transmission via such coteries of cultural artifacts like newly written commentaries and master-disciple traditions (e.g, Song Zhong’s 宋忠 teaching of Taixuan 太玄 at Jingzhou); Tang showed such artifacts as subjected to new philological and commentarial methods, for example, Wang Bi’s distribution of older, guwen, commentaries and Daoist passages directly following the relevant lines in the Confucian classics. Tang called the new hermeneutics of the third century an “Aufklärung,” and he hinted that such “enlightenment” (like fundamentalist movements in Buddhism and Christianity) was a release from Han-era linguistic practices that had obscured the religious depths of the classics.27 Another sort of approach to classicism is the engaging, theoretical book by John Makeham that treats 1947), p. 130, Fung explains the trajectory more clearly, indeed in Platonic terms: people of the Wei and Jin era “... came to have a much more discerning recognition of what transcends shapes and features… .” “They were convinced that a philosophy of the transcendent enabled men to ‘reach the sphere of the abstract’… .” In Rudolf Wagner’s opinion (Language, Ontology, and Political Philosophy in China: Wang Bi’s Scholarly Exploration of the Dark [Xuanxue] [Albany: SUNY, 2003], pp. 5–6), Fung was pessimistic (indeed negative) about Chinese history: it went from halcyon originality to being stuck in centuries of scholasticism. In a more nuanced interpretation of the work of Tang Yongtong, Pi Xirui, and Fung, Hans van Ess earlier explained that agendas in modern China of the 1920s through 1970s prompted writers to engage Western thought to their own purposes; see “The Old Text-New Text Controversy: Has the 20th Century Got It Wrong,” TP 80 (1994), esp. pp. 156–59. 27 T’ang Yung-t’ung, “Wang Pi’s New Interpretation of the I Ching and Lun Yü,” trans. Walter Liebenthal, HJAS 10.1 (1947), p. 134; Tang’s original Chinese version is



the commentarial literature on just one Confucian classic, going all the way from the xuanxue era to Song. Fung Yu-lan saw the developmental connection between the two eras, but Makeham’s work is not teleological in this way; it interprets a commentarial work as a writing, whose language and form yield its own philosophy. Makeham’s aim is not to explain xuan xue, although he does offer an intriguing interpretation of He Yan’s level of xuanxue-ism that one may find in, or read into, the sparse form of He’s commentary to Lunyu.28 Directions toward a More Real Xuanxue Two other ways of getting at xuanxue are full of potential; and they relate to each other. One of them gratifyingly enough sees the phenomenon as social in the sense of a linguistic and dialogic froth that erupted in actual places among self-conscious, politically mature groups; it has also to do with material culture and the pleasure found in social rpt. in idem, Wei Jin xuanxue lungao 魏晉玄學論稿 (Beijing: 1957). Tang’s convincing handling of the history of coteries that transmitted Aufklärung from Shu to Jingzhou and then to Cao-led Luoyang is carried a step further by Wagner, in his Language, Ontology, and Political Philosophy, which defines seven “circles” of thinkers since Eastern Han who sought ultimate meaning (pp. 44–45). Wagner stakes his project in the idea of hermeneuticism. This is quite fruitful, but I would prefer to have explained first what a “systematic exegesis” is (what product, qua system, came out of that so-called hermeneutical breakthrough). Our field sorely needs a history of systematic thought in contexts of early arts and technical apparatuses from late Han through Tang, and I believe that Han-Tang exegetical methods make a field for such a study. But hermeneutics should in my opinion be discussed historically as changes in historiography and theology, and especially transitions from theology to scholasticism, purposefully using those Western terms, which reveal ancient roots going back to the first Greco-Roman Homer studies and to Origen and Augustine, for example. Thus xuanxue, daoxue, and even kaozheng ought not to be framed as simply hermeneutics under Chinese names, arguably one implication of Wagner’s project, but built on their own Chinese roots. An off-the-beatenpath hermeneuticist type was a Russian diplomat in China, A. A. Petrov, Van Bi iz istorii kitaiskoi filosofii (Moscow: Akademia nauk, 1936; see review by Arthur Wright, HJAS 10.1 [1947], pp. 75–88). Petrov saw Wang Bi as a ruling-class exponent whose “Zhou Yi lueli 周易略例” provides a key to his Zhouyi and Laozi, namely, the belief in a mystical sort of tyrrany—the unitary that controls the many. Edward Shaughnessy insightfully reviews new studies of the history of commentaries, and ventures a political interpretation of Wang Bi’s Zhouyi that is similar; “Commentary, Philosophy, and Translation: Reading Wang Bi’s Commentary to the Yi Jing in a New Way,” Early China 22 (1997), esp. pp. 240–41 (he cites Wright’s review of Petrov at his n. 7, although Shaughnessy’s interpretation is original and of a vastly higher order than Petrov’s naive one). 28 John Makeham, Transmitters and Creators: Chinese Commentators and Commentaries on the Analects (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U. P., 2004). He finds very little xuanxue there, but also finds very little form there: He Yan seems to have thought of commentary on a Confucian work as a way to imitate Confucius’ own “I transmit, but don’t create” ethos.



activity. The other way discusses how ranking of men for state offices related to a more daring sort of ranking that involved ancient and primordial sages. That in turn connected with a new historicism of revelatory, ritualized political cycles (the legendic mandate cycles—part of what Fung had identified as the age of “apocrypha and prognostic texts”), and with religious and humanistic values that transcended all of it. Such approaches move us beyond the limitation brought by treating xuan only through records of thought and discussion that used obscurantist logic in a whole variety of topics or used linguistic codes that are supposed to have pointed to a reality beyond language and dualism, thus a sort of proto-madhyamika. Hou Wailu’s 侯外盧 1950s history of Chinese thought is a fine argument in the “froth” model. His volume 3, chapter 3, titled “The Zhengshi Timbre and the Origins of xuanxue,” poses the idea that xuanxue came at a time when the writing down of one’s classicist notions or textual interpretations was not as consistently pursued or idealized as it had been earlier, and that this helped to define the new “timbre,” which then can be seen as a kind of vocalness (a third-century glasnost' ). Debates were moved along through “logic games 理 賭 ”; and to impart a vision of a roiling time of meetings and discursive contests, Hou’s compilation offers terms for the styles of competition as well as social commentary on the need to “vanquish.”29 This is a history of thought whose program is emic, and thus more successful than Fung’s. Having noted, above, that we lack much in our studies of early-medieval Chinese history, I can mention yet another opportunity for future research: a prosopographical study of interlinked groups in the early xuanxue period that compares them to a later (post-300) grouping, analyzing fully their logic games and the way the contests cut across “class” lines and regional snobbery, as well as the political implications.30 Hou provides another helpful clue: he opens up his whole discussion with an extract from the Ming-Qing writer Gu Yanwu 顧炎武 , who wrote: “The vivaciousness of the famous literati of the Zhengshi reign-era flourished in the Luoyang area.”31 This is important; it leads us to members of Cao-Wei leadership families who floated into Luoyang after 220, had mansions built, passed around and 29

Hou, Zhongguo sixiang tongshi 3, pp. 74–76. I myself have a draft on that topic which may see the light of day; it looks at the way Guan Lu’s 管輅 (210–256) logical gaming functioned to keep his career afloat; Guan is noticed by Hou, ibid., p. 78. 31 Hou, Zhongguo sixiang tongshi 3, p. 74, citing Gu’s Rizhi lu 日知錄 , j. 13. 30



admired art, books, music, and (shades of R. Crumb) even drugs. My Chapters One and Two site the world of Xun Xu in Luoyang and explore that significance. It was there that this former Cao Shuang courtier was propelled into leadership after the Simas took control. It was to Luoyang that Xun’s older cousins (all sons of Xun Yu 荀彧 ) brought Xun learning to help the Simas recast court policy and institutions, and where at least one Xun rose to fame as a xuanxue devotee. In the last twenty years, scholarship has paid attention to xuanxue as a time of ideals that focused on primordial antiquity. We can draw from this a picture of changes in historical attitudes and of the exploration of a religious value of self (specifically as would be perceived by bien pensant literati). Those explorers were hoping to anoint themselves as recipients of primordial, canonized knowledge (the pure, political genius of, for example, Huang Di, the Yellow Emperor 黃帝 , and Shen Nong 神農 , the Divine Husbandman). Balazs, as mentioned, talked of a trend toward literary utopias, and such an interpretation, without mentioning Balazs, reached a sophisticated degree in a wholly different way in 1987 through Wang Baoxuan 王葆玹 .32 His introductory sections are where the keys to the social history of xuanxue lie. Although I can think of a handful of great scholars who controlled this large body of fragmentary evidence, none has used it to make Wang’s sort of conclusion about a specific political-ideological rallying call for both pre-Zhengshi and Zhengshi xuanxue. There is not the space here to review the book, but I might add that an edited English translation would be a contribution to students of early China. I focus only on what I believe is its major point about the social and intellectual origins of xuanxue. On the social side, his view is that the WeiJin intellectuals concerned with xuanxue developed from literary 守文 officials whose status and numbers began to rise late in Western Han, and who always represented a potential political threat to the military families who formed controlling factions. Cao Cao’s 曹操 call to judge officials by talent later opened up new doors and closed off some of those factions. That is not new territory (although the explanation moves along well). The intellectual history interpretation is pertinent: it was specifically Cao Pi’s 曹丕 “return to primordial antiquity, or fugu 復古 ,” as an ideological agenda for his new dynasty that allowed the relatively wide category of literary men, qua potential officials, 32

See his Zhengshi xuanxue 正始玄學 (Jinan: Qi Lu shushe, 1987), which was utilized heavily by Wagner, Language, Ontology, and Political Philosophy, and mentioned in Shaughnessy’s article (“Commentary, Philosophy, and Translation”).



to morph into an elite track—the Zhengshi star-officials, so to speak (mingshi 名士 ), men who saw themselves as recipients of that primordial, transcendent wisdom. The Cao Pi formula for legitimation took previous formulas to a new purpose. We can call those older ones a typology of creative saints whose work was carried out inside the broad, humane culture. Cao’s thinking, still typological, was staked to godlike eremites, not to those like Yao or the Duke of Zhou, who worked out governance. It also appealed to, while carefully denying, revelatory texts—the so-called apocrypha, which placed Confucius into a flattened historical landscape as a supreme typological figure. Thus, in an environment open to Huang Di and Laozi (even more pointedly, to Zhuangzi), a “sage” Confucius was necessary for the potential of actually creating a xuanxue government and thus he claimed a new role.33 Wang Baoxuan’s insight hopefully will inspire studies that bring xuanxue into a cross-cultural study of historicism and memory, hermeneutics, and the role of counter-history. In fact, the Zhengshi logic games, drug-taking, and anti-social acts were loose elements of a counter-history with nostalgiac loyalties to Cao Pi and his son, the last of the strong rulers of the Wei dynasty. The participants were, despite occasional appeals to ataraxy, emotionally involved in sweeping away the core of the literary and moral culture that had failed the Han and was also threatening to define the agenda of the rising Sima bloc in the 240s. But counter-historical corrections did not easily emerge through annalistic or biographical writings, thus the stage on which the counter-culture (in a sense an informal counter-history) proceeded was the discussion salons and the Wang–He approach to the classics, with a general focus on primordial heroes and Confucius. We might end this small excursion into the “more real” xuanxue by emphasizing our need to expand the scope. If we can agree that we do not always need to find xuan-like topics (such as categorized by Fung and Makeham) and words,34 or only study the commentaries written on Yijing, Laozi, and Zhuangzi, then we can move to a study, for ex33

See Wang, Zhengshi xuanxue, pp. 47, 54 (re. the political background); 69–71 (on Cao Pi’s fugu). Wang states: “The dynastic accession needed something transformative, and that would require a model; and in such a time period typified by ‘adherance to Heaven and modeling antiquity,” such models all needed to search directly inside deep antiquity” (p. 72); see also 128. 34 There was no sustained philosophical discussion of “xuan,” ipsum verbum, in the third century. About two or three scholars were known to have studied the Han-era Taixuan (Zhang Heng wrote “Si xuan fu” 思玄賦 in the 130s), and some commented on specific lines of Laozi or, later in Jin times, on passages of Zhuangzi concerning “xuan.”



ample, of the apocrypha. How might we have a discussion of them in the context of the history of pseudepigrapha, writing genres, and forgeries?35 How might the latter figure into a discussion of counterhistories in early China? Consider too the “figures” of an earlier age of analogic thinking about history, for example, the yin–yang correlations with the Five Processes, Eight Trigrams, and Triple Concordance 三通 . We might learn from Western studies of figurism and typology, which look back to as early as Clement, Augustine, and the “Book of Creatures.” We have generally assumed, via Fung, that after 220 the new xuanxue intellectual in China (descendant in some way of the guwen intellectual) had rejected and replaced figures and symbols. I do not see it that way; it seems more likely that it was the venues and registers that merely shifted, without discarding the object. Kun 坤 the female, the earth, the receptive became the There-is-not 無 , and even the latter did not remain for long as a decontextual symbol per se, given the developments in Buddhist shastra and Daoist revelatory cults. I wish to stress that if we are broadening the notion of xuanxue, then we should consider that outside of interesting arguments about its beginnings in Han times, with the writings of Yang Xiong and Wang Chong, the “froth,” as I have called it, may have its real roots in the “Huangchu 黃初 ” reign of Cao Pi (r. 220–226), with the promotion of deepest antiquity and the deft employment of political oracles and Zhuangzi motifs. This entire pre-Zhengshi aspect is brought out well by Wang Baoxuan. Across the whole arc from 200 to 350 we must be aware of mathematical, divinatory, and computative skills, and of how people mentioned private guide books and private arts. Studies of arts and technics, like the present one concerning Xun Xu, will illuminate that part of a xuanxue mentale that treated exacting knowledge and precision as so obscure that they were attractive, but also as so obsessive as to be disturbing. Along with texts as cultural artifacts, we ought to consider, as did Rudolph Wagner more than thirty years ago (and Lu Xun before him), the intricacies of material culture—such things as drug-ingestion, connoisseurship, and painting.36 We need to have intellectual and social scansions of a hundred names, not just those of Wang Bi and He Yan. In this regard, I should mention the 35

See the enlightening discussion in Amos Funkenstein, Perceptions of Jewish History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 74–87. 36 See Wagner, “Lebenstil und Drogen im chinesischen Mittelalter,” TP 59 (1973), pp. 79–178.



heuristic value of the sociology of knowledge, one example of which would be the work of Randall Collins.37 Conclusions, findings, and suggestions In what follows I theorize about an organizing principle found in Xun Xu’s life of technical, ritual scholarship. I state several suggestions and implications for future research and research methods. Readers may find a concise statement of this type almost required in prizing open the findings of each of my chapters, with their technical descriptions. It is important to establish those findings first, as a guide. Xun Xu’s Use of Zhou Antiquity Xun Xu inherited basic literary skill and was groomed by his extended family, but he seems to have taken up further arts and skills after the age of about forty-three or forty-four. An overarching principle guided his arts: it may be thought of as a “prisca Zhou”—that chimera of venerated antiquity that classicists found in Zhou ritual ideals (see Chapter Four). The term borrows from the Western prisca theologia, a notion among Protestant scholars, 1500–1750, that a hallowed, ancient form of Judeo-Christian theology would unify the modern world into a single liturgical community. Notable European adherants undertook antiquarian travels to the Holy Lands to measure Biblical sites and distances, learning purported Biblical languages and converting terms and numbers in order to recapture theological truths. We see some of these activities in Xun’s third-century Chinese endeavors, although his world of ritual was much different from that of Reformation Europe. I do not stress nor insist on the term “prisca,” yet I believe it furthers my argument because as a heuristic it points to cross-cultural comparative history. One may instead read this as Xun’s “Zhou ideal,” or a “Zhoustyle court ideology.” 37

Randall Collins, The Sociology of Philosophies: A Global Theory of Intellectual Change (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U. P., 1998). Collins makes naive mistakes in his understanding of pre-Buddhist China and the xuanxue social ambits (e.g., pp. 166, 170, esp. fig. 4.4, and 172), but that would not deny the worth of his endeavor. He sees “Intellectual life… first of all [as] conflict and disagreement” (p. 1). “Intellectuals are people who produce decontextualized ideas” (p. 19); and their actions occur in an elevated realm consisting of “cultural capital,” “interaction rituals,” and “emotional energy.” He presents a demographic rule of thumb for how major philosophical breakthroughs ebbed and flowed in traditional philosophy worldwide: a group was usually limited to a small number of adherants or challengers to masters. These ideas can be put to use in taking up Hou Wailu’s social froth that typified debate coteries and the impulse to “win.”



To every aspect of his scholarship—physical dimensions, lyric forms, pitch and harmonics, and universal chronological systems— Xun applied what he deduced were Zhou standards. He did that without leaving a statement (none that we know) explaining how the Zhou principle may have had implications for his faction and their politics, or for Sima power. The closest we have are several passages in a nonpolitical prose piece that praise the Zhou manner of determining musical harmonics and the cultural importance of that, but not moving much past the specific setting of musicology (see Chapter Five). The chapters show that for court lyrics Xun Xu returned to the Zhou-era tetrameter shi 詩 , but one example of his lyric shows that inside the tetric squareness he inserted a prosodic element that reflected structural shapes that may have been inspired by aural and visual shapes of the actual music performances. Perhaps because of this and certainly for other reasons, many have considered Xun a leading thirdcentury editor and promoter of yuefu lyrics, those post-190 ad songs of nostalgia, loss, and personal events; I disagree, seeing Xun as simply reforming what he saw as incorrect musical values inherited from the Wei dynasty. He also reconstructed the Zhou-era foot-rule to create an official “new Jin” Zhou-based measure, or chi 尺 , which helped him establish a reformed pitch-standard set, or the twelve lülü 律呂 based on his Zhou dimensions, and, connected with this, he rearranged the diflute 笛 finger-holes to restore an accurate Zhengsheng 正聲 scale (seen as a Zhou-era standard) per those lülü. He commented on his preference for his regulated Zhengsheng scale over new types. Having been ordered to create a team to repair the damaged texts found in a plundered Warring States tomb, he introduced Zhou regnal dates in ganzhi 干支 terms to imply that Zhou political hierarchy had held sway over an ancient Wei-state locale. In short, Xun Xu proved his Sima dynasts legitimate with a universalistic prisca Zhou and provided a tinge of counter-history by reflecting upon the Warring States Wei and Jin. Politics of Precision The politics surrounding Xun Xu centered on factionalism. The biography shows that any study of Western Jin must respect the watershed status of the Wu War and the war factions. Before the war, factionalism was centered around uncertainty in Sima family succession and any ability to control heirs-apparent. As plans for an invasion of Wu 吳 developed from 277–79, Xun Xu’s succession faction (the Jia 賈 –Xun 荀 faction) resented such planning outside their purview, and their war



policy made for emotionally charged antagonism toward the pro-war Zhang Hua 張華 faction. My study shows that when the war was quickly completed, both factions changed into a Zhang–Xun struggle over scholarly affairs (mostly concerning problems of the 280 archeological discovery); and this struggle played out in the shifting personnel and structures of the two primary historiographical offices—the Bishu 秘書 (Imperial Library) and Zhongshu 中書 (Palace Writers), which were thought of as offices to be held by the throne’s most intimate, and therefore powerful, advisers. Precision at times involves aesthetics. Without stating so directly, Xun’s aesthetics followed the Zhou for the regularity it provided in a variety of technics. Thus, prisca Zhou was not just theory, but a technique for sound, harmony, and shape. On another level, Xun’s Zhou ran counter to the Cao Pi-inspired “return to primordial antiquity,” which eschewed the analyses and tinkerings required for resetting Confucian institutions. Xun’s vision could remind people of the stringent ordering undertaken by Li Si 李斯 during Qin times or that of Wang Mang 王莽 . Had there been any intellectual attempts at utopian imagery or thought in Xun’s time-period (and it appears not), Xun Xu’s stringent prisca Zhou would have been a formidable barrier. Stringency in the Zhou ideal bordered on obsession. To capture this, my sense of a politics of precision touches on Xun Xu’s critical reception. We have clear evidence for two types of criticism. The first was the objection to the new Xun musical tunings as lodged by Ruan Xian 阮咸 . Chapter Four shows that Xun’s position versus Ruan was defended on technical grounds early in the Tang. But, in a suggestive vein, Ruan’s very role leads us to view Confucian obsession as having become a target of the southern style of daoistic,38 Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove criticism of the old world of stiff, failed bureaucrats. Xun Xu was just this type of negative model: his (literally) square aesthetics, total articulation of precision, resistance to new music modes, and then his fall from power, may have lurked in the background of a developing Seven Sages iconography, one that eschewed unsociability 38

In this book I use “daoistic” (perhaps a neologism) to suggest that someone’s ideas, without relation to any Daoist movement or practices, reflected or indirectly touched on linguistically charged terms or cosmologies from such texts as Laozi, Zhuangzi, or Huainanzi, or they reflected on troubled careers, death, or life in personal ways; this word is preferred over “neo-Daoist”; see Howard L. Goodman, “Chinese Polymaths, 100–300 ad: The Tung-kuan, Taoist Dissenters, and Technical Skills,” AM 18.1 (2005), pp. 122–24.



and obsession with state institutions in favor of a Cao-inspired intimacy and a certain informality and clever sangfroid in statecraft. The second type of criticism involved Xun Xu’s skills as antiquarian editor and historiographer; I touch on that, below. Other suggestions that I offer have to do with social history. My study of the Xun extended family shows that their culture of burial, mourning, and commemoration, both the social nature of funerals and funeral appurtenances, as well as epitaph texts, was linked directly to place. Yingchuan was the site of their traditional family tombgrounds, but the move of many leading Xuns to Luoyang in about the mid-220s brought new funeral actions and imperially-sponsored funeral support. In 295, a motive for such imperial support was the massive storms and flooding that occurred in the Central Plain, causing damage to the Xun-family tomb-ground and the burial of a certain Xun in the Mang Hills. The move to Luoyang also affected the family’s standing as scholars. They gained roles in several Luoyang coteries involving Yijing; also, the Xun-family expertise in law and music that they had nurtured for at least fifty years in Yingchuan helped gain Xun Yi and Xun Xu appointments to Sima-court ritual projects. In the subsequent years, it seems that Xun Xu was able to manipulate various low-level bureaus in order to have their personnel take part in his antiquarian researches into ritual. In addition, when put in charge of interpreting the famous Ji Tomb found-texts in 280, Xun offered patronage to ancient calligraphy experts, who received privileged access to the found-texts. These bureaucratic and scholarly uses of people and offices can reflect social history just as clearly as local provincial funerals and shifts of residence to Luoyang can. Archeology, Historiography, and the History of Sciences and Technologies The biography of Xun Xu makes findings in several discrete areas of scholarship. I have found that Xun Xu was at the forefront of a type of antiquarianism that had archeological features even ten years before the Ji Tomb, which scholarship generally considers the critical event of archeology in early China. In my view, well before this moment scholars inclined to the use of antiquities in their classicist writings were aware of the availability of found-objects, the storage of such objects, and perhaps even a certain market. Xun Xu’s investigations into the Zhou “foot” involved sending out minions to retrieve relevant old devices (scoops, bells, foot-rules, coins). He himself was involved with



opening up court storage areas, and there he found Wei-era court music devices. Xun and his consultants furthermore applied a fascinating system of measuring found-objects and their aural patterns, in determining Zhou metrological and harmonic standards. Historiography seems to have been the last area, spanning 280–87, in which Xun Xu attempted to assert new views. He is recorded as arguing in favor of pushing the formal “beginnings” of the Sima-Jin into the Zhengshi era. For that he was criticized twice, once posthumously. After the Ji Tomb’s ancient annals were found, Xun pursued the techniques of chronology, and, as mentioned above, applied Zhou chronological markers to the most important of the found-texts, the Bamboo Annals 竹書紀年 . I pinpoint a turn of mind that emerged in the Zhang faction’s denunciation of Xun Xu’s use of chronology and poor quality of editing the Annals. This is connected to contemporary ideas about the proper use and best types of commentaries that could aid in reading histories and institutional texts. Zhi Yu would point out that such discernment was lacking in Xun-family scholarship. As an actor inside a broad history of science (broad in the sense of including the social side), Xun Xu provides fascinating details for modern historians. First, he crossed back and forth over that fluid line separating artisan and scholar. He clearly associated with artisans (metal casters, perhaps mathematicians, flute makers) and he himself possessed skills in portraiture and design, and there is mention of such practices in moments when casting and template-making were pursued in completing a project. My finding in the area of metrology is that Xun Xu went about it in just this sense of a practice, even a modern sort of practice that typifies our hard sciences: court institutions were used to create a staff, a program was followed in research and determinations, and evidence was collected and disposed also in the context of the court, with its repositories and need for bureaucratic paperwork. In my discussion of a “more real xuan” I lodged opinions about various directions that the study of post-Han letters and classicism might go in the near future. Clearly we need several deep biographies, well constructed prosopographies, and attention to technical details, even of such things as prosody. As a general conclusion, I will add that current scholarship will profit by connecting the tissue of xuanxue with the scrim that backgrounds the emerging Western Jin literary and cultural criticism. If Xun Xu was scorned for not being part of the new paradigm but merely holding to his Zhou line, then that shows us that we must examine the art, material culture, and literary sense of an-



tiquity that developed from about 230 to 290, then redeveloped from 320 or so to 450 and later. We also need a history of historiography, a history of classicism (tracking changes in guwen critiques and assumptions), and technologies and arts as applied to production and local society. The need for political narratives is not as acute, although the culture of military institutions is, and should be approached. Finally, in shaping literary styles as they evolved through xuanxue and toward the intimacy of yuefu and the poetics of personality, we must refer always to the political scene, the factions and struggles, and their impact upon non-elite and local and border areas. Moreover, Buddhist and Daoist developments, which do not come into the life of Xun Xu (with perhaps one curious exception), should be seen as the sort of post-xuanxue creativity that Tang Yongtong deeply understood them to be. The Earliest Sources for Xun Xu’s Life Besides relying on formal court records and institutional compendia, a number of which existed at least down through the fifth and sixth centuries,39 standard histories like Hou Hanshu 後漢書 and Jinshu 晋 書 relied on family-preserved biezhuan 別傳 and jiazhuan 家傳 (both hagio-biographies) to write their generic “liezhuan 列傳 ” (categorized biographies). A number of Yingchuan Xuns were in fact covered in this way in the earliest writings. Since most biezhuan / jiazhuan of late-Han to Sui are now nonextant, it is through the standard histories that we know of court memorials, quips, and letters; such genres also found a home in collections of anecdotes and bons mots. Jinshu, more than other medieval histories, included numerous free-standing poems, fu, and other prose by its biographical subjects,40 but this does not help us in the case of the Xuns. In Chapters Two and Four especially (and scattered in other places), I analyze and criticize the handling of Xun’s life by the writers of his Jinshu biography, and I have been able to bring out something of their approaches to the material. Two other types of source material come into play. One is technical writing, as in the case of Xun Xu’s sophisticated musicology. Such writings sometimes were copied into standard-history treatises, and sometimes only survived as part of a wenji 文集 , if at all.41 The other 39

See SS 33 (“Jingji zhi” B), p. 964. See Howard L. Goodman, “Jinshu,” forthcoming in Albert Dien et al., eds., working title: A Six Dynasties Sourcebook. 41 See Howard L. Goodman, in ibid., for essays on the nature of several important reconstructed wenji of this period. On the way Xun Xu’s guide to flute scales, “Di lü 40



is commemorative literature. Timothy Davis has shown how we now have many more examples than those known even in medieval China thanks to post-1950 archeology. Beginning around the end of Eastern Han, publicly displayed eulogies gave way to entombed, to a large degree hidden, commemorations, with repeated proscriptions against ostentatious tomb decor and memorials, especially that of 278.42 When hidden tomb texts later on emerged to become a genre due to new literati interests, and as they were collected and appreciated, commemorative language took on new uses and shapes. The Xun tomb-text analyzed in Chapter One is remarkable both for what is naively intimate and private and how it comports with the world just outside the tomb door. Basically, we have five principal early biezhuan / jiazhuan that dealt with the Xuns, all of which, plus other works from about 350–500, formed parts of Xun Xu’s Jinshu biography: 1) “Xunshi jiazhuan 荀氏家傳 ”: a multi-generational Xun-family record compiled by Xun Bozi 荀伯子 (378–438).43 Several Xuns were the subjects of biezhuan; nos. 2 and 3, below, were probably written by other Xuns and/or their students close to the times of their subjects, and may have been sections of “Xunshi jiazhuan.” 2) “Xun Yu 荀彧 biezhuan”;44 3) “Xun Xu 荀勖 biezhuan.” 45 A relevant biezhuan was written by a non-Xun whose father was acquainted with Xun Xu. This was: 笛律,” was saved probably at first in Xun-family papers, and later compiled in Songshu, see chap. 5, below; also Howard L. Goodman and Y. Edmund Lien, “A Third Century ad Chinese System of Di-Flute Temperament: Matching Ancient Pitch-Standards and Confronting Modal Practice,” The Galpin Society Journal 62 (April, 2009), p. 7. 42 See Timothy M. Davis, “Potent Stone: Entombed Epigraphy and Memorial Culture in Early Medieval China,” Ph.D. diss. (New York: Columbia University, 2008), pp. 232–73. 43 See attribution in Chuxue ji 初學集 (Beijing: Zhonghua) 17 (人部, 孝 4), p. 421; 18 (人部, 貴 4), p. 440. Passages are preserved in a few quotations in TPYL and other florilegia. See Rafe de Crespigny, The Records of the Three Kingdoms, Occasional Paper 9 (Canberra: Australian National University, 1970), p. 62. The work is mentioned once in JS 34, p. 1024. For details of discrepancies re. attribution as discussed in Tang and post-Tang sources, see SGZJJ 10, p. 17b [319]. Xun Bozi’s biography in SgS 60, pp. 1627–29, states that he worked on a “Jinshu” (as did Xun Xu’s grandson, Xun Chuo; see my List 1, appended to chap. 1); it is my own contention that Bozi was the compiler as well of “Xun shi lu”; also see List 1. 44 De Crespigny, Records, p. 62. 45 SGZ 10, p. 321, cit. “Wei lüeh”; also TPYL’s “Yin shu mu” 引書目 (p. 10b) and j. 130, subsection “尺寸.”



4) “Xun Can 荀粲 biezhuan” (by He Shao 何劭 d. 302).46 Finally, there is: 5) Zhang Fan 張璠 (Jin era), who wrote a history of Han titled “Han ji” 漢記 , originally 30 juan.47 Passages are preserved throughout Pei Songzhi’s SGZ commentary. In it we find biographical notices for many Xuns; it is easy to assume that he borrowed his facts from nos. 1–4. The seven chapters and acknowledgments My chapters move through Xun Xu’s life chronologically, with something of an exception in Chapters One and Two. One is a historical preliminary to Xun’s career; and Two, while in fact offering the opening years of his career, also provides two nonchronological discussions on themes relevant to the study as a whole. At the beginning of each chapter I propose one musical note from the seven scale-steps of the Zhengsheng scale, a mode typical of musical practice beginning just before Xun Xu’s time. The epigraph for each chapter characterizes that scale-step, which in turn becomes a metaphor for the particular part of Xun’s life. I am happy to acknowledge an overall debt to David R. Knechtges. His sociable way of scholarly interaction, willingness to answer questions in detail, and dedication to craft made the book possible. Nathan Sivin read an early, unformed, draft and guided it to a new shape. Thanks is due to Chris Dakin, Suffolk University, for help with research tools. I was inspired to pursue such a long-term project thanks to my wife Anita Chummee, who understood that I needed a gentle, quiet home. Other debts are expressed, below, in the relevant sections. t Chapter One, Gong: “The Xuns of Yingyin and Luoyang”

This is an exploration of the social history of an early-medieval extended family in China—the Xuns. I have published an article titled “Sites of Recognition: Burial, Mourning, and Commemoration in the Xuns of Yingchuan, 140–305 ad,” Early Medieval China 15 (2009), in which I use some material never before analyzed in a monograph, in 46

De Crespigny, Records, p. 62; cited in SGZ 10, pp. 319–20; also cited in He’s biog. in JS 33, p. 999. 47 See de Crespigny, Records, p. 57.



one case an archeologically retrieved text from a Xun tomb. Chapter One draws in a minor way from the article, but is otherwise quite different: it weaves into the theme of an extended family’s burial and death commemoration their intellectual tracks as well (pedagogical influences, types of texts, types of arts). I must thank Miranda Brown for numerous pointers on developing commemorative evidence. I presented my arguments in a talk titled “Trauma, Counter-Culture and Fall: The End of the Line for the Great Hsün Family, and Their 295 ad Stele,” delivered at the Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, Taipei, Sept. 14, 2007. The opportunity was made possible by Kevin Chang and Director Wang Fansen. The spirited discussion encouraged me to hone my argument. Drafts of this chapter were read and criticized by Michael Puett and David Knechtges, the latter providing valuable corrections to my translations. t Chapter Two, Shang: “Xun Xu’s First Posts, ca. 248–265”

This chapter builds on the previous chapter’s exploration of family, urbanity, and political influence as the means by which Xun Xu confidently entered into service. I start with an essay on what it meant to have been a courtier under a “bad last” regime, which for the WeiJin transition I call the “Cao Shuang taint.” Any taint, which I see as having been neither automatic nor severe when occurring, was ameliorated in the process of Xun’s becoming a “cooperative exegete.” The chapter also provides an introduction to the factionalism that determined much of Xun Xu’s entire career. t Chapter Three, Jue: “Aesthetics and Precision in Court Ritual

Songs, . ca. 266–272” While in 264–66 Xun Xu was rather subserviant in court scholarly projects, he would now assert himself in lyric and music. Some of the material in this chapter was published as “A History of Court Lyrics in China during Wei-Chin Times,” AM 19.1–2 (2006), pp. 57–109. The anonymous reviews helped me refine my deductions, and I offer thanks indeed. The chapter uses a small amount of the material and conclusions from the article, but revises the translations and goes into much new territory concerning Xun Xu’s prosodic constructions. It offers new suggestions about any role Xun Xu may have played in the emergence of the yuefu genre of poetry. I thank Nicholas Morrow Williams, an advanced Ph.D. candidate at the University of Washington, for help concerning prosody.



t Chapter Four, Bianzhi: “Commandeering Staff and Proclaiming

Precision, . ca. 273–274” Xun Xu began to utilize offices under his direct purview (as head of the Palace Writers) and some indirectly so. I start with an essay on the special facts behind the Palace Writers and the Imperial Library, facts that are a key to Xun’s struggle with Zhang Hua and are pursued again in Chapter Six. One of Xun’s large projects was to catalog the Imperial Library. I investigate Xun’s and his staff ’s use of antiquarian discoveries to revise the ritual “foot,” or 尺 , a key technical step required before any reform of ritual pitch. I must thank Dr. Chou Min-chih, formerly the Director of the East Asian Library, University of Washington. He looked through the long passage of Li Chunfeng and helped me to improve my translation (as well as my translations of several sections of Xun Xu’s Jinshu biography). t Chapter Five, Zhi: “A Martinet of Melody, ca. 274–77”

Xun Xu moved directly from metrology to music performance. He instituted a new pitch for the court ensembles and researched newly found devices that indicated a problem with the way court flutes were built. The result was his method of making flutes that delivered a better-tuned Zhengsheng scale. The chapter draws on two previous articles. The first made broad suggestions about the aesthetics of any music that may be associated with yuefu, as well as actual evidence of contact that Xun Xu had with instrumentalists; see “Tintinnabulations of Bells: Scoring-Prosody in Third-Century China and Its Relationship to Yüeh-fu Party Music,” JAOS 126.1 (2006), pp. 27–49. Subsequently my translations in the latter article were refined and expanded, and much new material added, for an article published with a coauthor, Y. Edmund Lien (currently an advanced Ph.D. candidate, University of Washington); see “A Third Century ad Chinese System of Di-Flute Temperament: Matching Ancient Pitch-Standards and Confronting Modal Practice,” The Galpin Society Journal 62 (April, 2009), pp. 3–24. The anonymous reviewer provided leads that were happily utilized; and the sensitive cooperation of the editor, Michael Fleming, was critical. Lien’s knowledge of math and his ability to comprehend and criticize musicological experiments of the 1980s in China concerning Xun Xu’s deduced pitches, as well as produce trenchant readings of obscure passages in Songshu 宋書 , were vital to the project. Chapter Five uses several previously published translation passages, but finishes the entire Xun Xu document on improving court flutes and adds



a deep level of commentary. It also raises another topic, namely, the manner in which Xun’s new music was criticized by Ruan Xian, a wellknown musical scholar in Xun’s own lifetime. I wish to thank Lothar von Falkenhausen for reading a very early draft of Xun’s musicology and supplying needed corrections. I owe a debt of gratitude to Yang Yuanzheng and to Professor Chan Hing Yen of the University of Hong Kong, Music Department, for inviting me to present a talk titled “Xun Xu’s Transposing Flutes” at a Research Colloquium, September 19, 2007. There I had the good fortune of meeting Kwok Wai Ng, whose new Ph.D. on Tang modes as well as his personal communications helped me enormously. Last but by no means least, I am deeply grateful for the personal consultations provided by Prof. Alan Thrasher, emeritus, of the Music Department of the University of British Columbia. t Chapter Six, Yu: “A New Day, New Antiquities, New Factions,

ca. . 277–284” Here I deal with the shape of politics after the Wu War of 280, as well as Xun Xu’s role in a famous archeological find of 279–80, the Ji Tomb discovery. We learn about the scholarly apparatus that Xun erected for restoring, transcribing, and editing the found texts. The factional politics after the war was shaped by others’ views of the texts and an attack on Xun’s editing by Zhang Hua’s circle. David Knechtges provided valuable help translating Xun Xu’s celebration poem. Sincere appreciation is expressed to Edward L. Shaughnessy for reading both an early version of the whole Xun Xu study and this chapter near its final stage. Additionally, I thank David Nivison, emeritus professor of Stanford University, and Shao Dongfang, Director, East Asia Library, Stanford University, for inviting me to a meeting titled “The Riddle of an Ancient Book, the Zhushu Jinian (Bamboo Annals): The Debated Authenticity of Its Texts, and Chronologies Therein,” held at the East Asia Library, Stanford University, May 23–24, 2009. I chaired the afternoon session on the 23d. The flow of discussion about new avenues of research into ancient chronology greatly benefited this chapter. t Chapter Seven, Biangong: “‘They’ve Stolen My Phoenix Pool,’

284–289 . and Beyond” Here, I document the actors involved in anti-Xun criticism and its historiographical aspects. Criticism targeted not just Xun but the scholarship of his elder, Xun Yi. The fact that post-283 anti-Xunism, as I term it, involved historiography enriches our picture of Western Jin



scholarship. Xun’s exegetical counter-history (his insertion of Zhou regnal dates) was blunt and ideological, and fed into the negative reception of his projects. After over twenty years as head of a complex of offices that were the chief sites of historiographical work, Xun was apparently blocked by about 282–83 and officially “promoted out” in 287. Removal from his scholarly seat affected him deeply; and he died in 289. My concluding thoughts return to Xun Xu’s prisca Zhou. The latter, although not referred to thus, was what the new style of scholarship and scholarly society after the 280s disliked most about him. I give examples of how literary visionaries and critics like Shu Xi, Zhi Yu, and Fu Xuan (all having roles in Xun Xu’s world) kept alive xuanxue style ideals of pre-Zhou antiquity, of enlightened sages and enlightened selves. Their ways of friendship, intimacy, and noncommital and unobsessive politics, was what I call a prisca antiqua, or “venerated primordial antiquity,” which was more flexible and tolerant than Xun’s prisca Zhou. Inspiration for their new style of critique and their own solidity as an intellectual group was provided by Zhang Hua, the consummate anti-Xun thinker.











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Four, I explained the elision of the Library and Palace Writers that began under the Wei and was reasserted in about 266. This created tension in the vertical relationship between the inspector and prefect of the Palace Writers. Xun Xu had been interested in historiography since the late 260s. With the Ji Tomb discovery in 280, the Library, at that time a subsidiary function of the Palace Writers, saw new activity led by Xun. His investigation of the bamboo slips was related to new concerns about historiography generally among scholars. Below, we see how these two Western Jin bureaus, as in Eastern Han times, offered official status for scholars interested in historiographic work, and how Xun and Zhang impacted those offices.

new antiquities, new factions


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Table 5 gives the known appointees from about 250 to 302 at several levels of the Library and Writers bureaus, and also the ad hoc lang, shizhong, and zhuzuo. One may estimate that during Western Jin there were roughly twenty or twenty-five scholar-officials known to have debated or opined about history writing and methods in a learned way, or who wrote biographies, treatises, commentaries to previous histories and the like, or made historically oriented compilations (such as edicts, statutes, protocol). The table shows fifteen of them in bold face, the majority of all those appearing here in these bureaus. There are indications that Xun Xu and Zhang Hua shaped these offices from the 260s to 300 and brought factional and intellectual antagonism to bear. A juncture occurred 281–82, when overall control started to lean toward Zhang, aided by He Qiao’s apparent shift. To see the shift, I have distinguished visually those who in some way or other were in Xun’s ambit (the straight borders) from those in Zhang’s (the wavy-line borders). “Ambit” is flexible: cases in which Xun or Zhang effected an appointment directly are few, and several situations have contradictory aspects, especially concerning factional alignments. I


chapter six

have relied chiefly on modern chronologies, such as those of Lu Kanru and Liu Rulin, data from other sources, but also the overall tracking of Jin offices in Wan Sitong’s 萬斯同 (1638–1702) “Jin jiang xiang dachen nianbiao” 晋將相大臣年表 .116 It must be remarked, though, that Wan did not collect data for the Library, as he did for both the Palace Writers and Palace Attendants. Table 5 fills that gap. It is fair to say that almost everyone in the table was highly educated and known for work in different genres of personal and court literature. It would be hard to say with certainty that those not known as historians, like Chenggong Sui (see 259), Ren and Pei (265–75), and Hua Yi 華廙 (287–91), produced no historiographical ideas or institutional compendia. Further, those quite low in rank, namely Xun Xu’s technical helpers in 274 and 279–82, were almost certainly literate and skilled in texts. In general, though, we are in fact looking at most historiographers active in Western Jin, and our table’s concentration on the two offices is meaningful: there were no clusters of historiographers around other offices.117 As the Simas were forming their power during Wei times, a major project concerning Wei history was moving ahead under the direction of Wang Chen (Chapter Two, Table 1), and at this time Wang occupied a Library position, and would rise to prominence at the beginning of Jin. Yet he died in 267, and just at that point Xun Xu, having already contributed to the early Jin committees for ritual and law, began his own rise in the writing offices. He no doubt knew Palace Writer Chenggong Sui, and a year or two later Chenggong and Zhang Hua were revising the court’s lyrics with Xun Xu (Chapter Three). We see a pattern of Xun influence, which I demarcate as Western Jin’s “Period One of Bureaucratic Historiography and Archives” and show as the straight-bordered cells. From about 266 to 287 Xun Xu in one form or another headed both the Writers and the Library. From 116

For Lu and Liu, see the Bibliography. I cited Wan in n. 63, above. The review of Jin historiographers found in Liao, Liang Jin shibu, shows that for Western Jin there are hardly any others than mentioned in Table 5. (I do not account for Huangfu Mi and Ruan Xian, whose work concerned legendary prehistory; Huangfu’s “Diwang shiji” was a chronology of prehistoric rulers.) Further, the Treatise on Literature in SS has numerous anonymous “court accounts of imperial activity” 起居注 for Jin, and also there is the hard-to-trace historiographer 李軌 , who probably served Eastern Jin. Finally, one should mention historians in Wu through the 270s, such as the commentator Wei Zhao (see chap. 5, n. 42), and Hua He 華覈, for whom see B. J. Mansfelt Beck, The Treatises of Later Han: Their Author, Sources, Contents and Place in Chinese Historiography (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1990), p. 26. 117

new antiquities, new factions


about 266 through 269 we see men over whom Xun may have exercised influence or official control. Zhang Hua, like these others, was below Xun hierarchically and served alongside him in early Jin projects. But intellectually, Zhang exerted independence and had recommended Chenggong into the Writers earlier in the 260s. There were two shizhong who also were not notably among Xun’s associates, Ren and Pei, who were probably pro-Zhang; but they were not known as writers in historiographic genres. Period One witnessed the careeers of three successful historians, so we should discuss them briefly. Sima Biao 司馬彪 (b. ca. 237, d. 306) was a second cousin of Sima Yan (Jin Wudi after early 266).118 His father Mu 司馬睦 became embroiled over his own status and inheritance in the new imperial family; on top of that Biao had “a weakness for women and frivolousness,” thus was disinherited and adopted into the family of Sima Yi 懿 (179–251), the preimperial Jin founder. The Simas in general are not ranked high in scholarly or literary affairs, and that characterization can be applied to Biao’s natal and adoptive families. However, later in his career he turned toward writing and literature, with a special interest in historiography having to do with state sacrifices and portentology. He was at some point made Chief Commandant of Cavalry, then appointed Gentleman of the Imperial Library in about 264, and in 266 became Assistant, cheng, in that office. It was most likely in these years in the Library, nominally under Xun Xu after 266, that he compiled Xu Hanshu 續漢書 , which received a major commentary early in the 500s.119 One of Sima Biao’s projects after 280 would be to use the Ji Tomb texts to correct a narrative history of ancient China written by the late Shu scholar Qiao Zhou 譙周 (b. ca. 199, d. 270). This raises the question of Sima’s relationship with Xun Xu, but there is in fact no evidence of any kind that links them, and Sima’s access to the tomb texts may be attributed to the leaking out of the transcriptions of Xun’s team after about 282–83. In the next section of this chapter, I discuss Sima Biao’s historiographical ideas and methods. 118

I have based my understanding of Sima’s life on the treatment given in Beck, Treatises, pp. 5–17, which analyzes the literary career in toto; Sima’s biography is at JS 82, pp. 2141–42. 119 In the Tang, Fang Xuanling remarked positively about him in the judgment placed after the collected biographies of historiographers in Jinshu 82, saying that he and Chen Shou were the best of their era. Sima Biao also wrote commentaries to Hanshu, Huainan zi, and Zhuangzi, the latter reconstituted in Wang Xianqian’s 王先謙 (1842–1918) Zhuangzi jijie 莊子集解 (see Xuxiu SKQS edn., vol. 958).


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Next was the Shu native Chen Shou 陳壽 (233–297), who had direct interaction with Xun. Chen is well known as the writer of Sanguo zhi 三國志 . He began compiling and writing biographies in Shu, but by 271 he was invited by the Jin court to Luoyang and attained the post of Gentleman Drafter through the recommendation of Zhang Hua. Chen was in a post that may have been under Xun’s overview; but although that is not certain, we do know of their interaction. On March 25, 274, Chen discoursed to the throne about his compilation of the literary works of Zhuge Liang 諸葛亮 (181–234) on which he had been working for some time. He claimed that Xun Xu and He Qiao had “earlier” assigned him that project, and now he wanted to make sure that it would be copied and stored in the archives.120 Some time later Zhang wanted to have Chen made a Gentleman inside the Palace Writers, but this was blocked by Xun Xu:121 Zhang Hua recommended that [Chen] be ordered to take a concurrent post as Gentleman of the Palace Writers. Yet Shou’s “Wei zhi 魏志 ” had some [aspect] that diverged from notions held by Xun Xu. Xu did not want him to be located at the capital, so he memorialized that he be made Grand Administrator of Changguang 長廣 .

Over what historiographical matter Xun and Chen clashed is not stated but can be cautiously deduced from other contexts (see Chapter Four, “Xun Chuo, Writing For and About Family”). Xun Xu may have disapproved of the positive sheen that Chen applied to Cao Cao and to the motives of Cao men and Cao courts. After all, Xun Yu, the famous father of Xun Yi and Xun Can had been abandoned politically by Cao Cao and perhaps been made to commit suicide by him.122 Moreover, Chen’s being a protege of Zhang was certainly a factional problem, even though the truly strident factionalism developed after about 274. Finally, Xun Xu’s deep commitment in the early 270s to proving that Wei-era court music was ritually incorrect may have been a factor. Chen was the only historiographer ever to have written a biography of Du Kui 杜夔 (fl. ca. 180–225), which he did sometime between 270–278. I have translated and explained it in full elsewhere,123 120

Cited n. 62, above; also Crowell and Cutter, Empresses and Consorts, pp. 61–88, on career and other writings. 121 Liu Lin 劉琳, ed., Huayang guozhi jiaozhu 華陽國志校注 (Chengtu: Ba Shu shushe, 1984), j. 11, p. 849. A somewhat different version is in JS 82, p. 2138. 122 On Xun Yu’s death and its handling in historiography, see See Paul William Kroll, “Portraits of Ts’ao Ts’ao: Literary Studies on the Man and the Myth,” Ph.D. diss. (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1976), pp. 187–89. 123 Howard L. Goodman, “A History of Court Lyrics in China during Wei-Chin

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and I need only mention that Chen Shou took the clear position that Du, the music leader of Cao Cao’s court, had been a skillful antiquarian—a true musicologist who followed classical guides in constructing the twelve lülü and appropriately tuned bells and ensemble music. In short, Xun Xu’s dislike of Chen’s “Wei zhi” may have reflected Xun’s own leadership in musicology, and, even more important, his anti-Wei positions about all manner of ritual.124 Finally, we have Hua Qiao 華嶠 (ca. 235–40; d. 293). Due to the poor organization of his Jinshu biography,125 his major offices occurred either around 266–71 or after 290, or perhaps he repeated offices. Before 266, Sima Zhao appointed Hua secretary with added duties as a Gentleman Master of Writing: we can guess that he was then about thirty. When Jin was founded he was made Guannei Marquis and proceeded by raises to Palace Cadet of the Heir-Apparent. Upon appointment as a local Grand Administrator, he quit to care for parents, then was reappointed as Regular Cavalier Attendant, and supervisor of Drafters in the Palace Writers and Erudit in the Imperial Academy, then Palace Writer.126 Because the Academy was reinstituted in 276, I place these latter posts at around that date. Zhang Hua was Prefect of the Palace Writers from 271 to about 279, and he may have effected Hua’s appointments; but since Xun was the Inspector, I mark Hua Qiao as in Xun’s ambit. In fact, as we see in Chapter Seven, Hua’s work on Eastern Han history would be reviewed and supported by both Zhang and Xun in about 286, as Xun’s career was declining. Hua Qiao’s profile was low after about 280 but thanks to Zhang Hua was revived when Huidi came to the throne. That is why his appointment as Library Inspector in about 291, till his death in 293, I consider to be in Zhang Hua’s ambit. Times,” AM 19.1–2 (2006), pp. 69–76 (see SGZ 29, “Biographies of Fangji 方技 [Men of Methods and Skills],” pp. 806–7). 124 On Chen’s involvement with Luoyang factionalism vis-a-vis Xun Xu, see Crowell and Cutter, Empresses and Consorts, pp. 62–64. Also see Hoyt Cleveland Tillman, “Historic Analogies and Evaluative Judgments: Zhuge Liang as Portrayed in Chen Shou’s ‘Chronicle of the Three Kingdoms’ and Pei Songzhi’s Commentary,” Oriens Extremus 43 (2002), pp. 60–70. See Yang Yaokun 楊燿坤 and Wu Yechun 伍野春, Chen Shou Pei Songzhi pingzhuan 陳壽裴松之評傳 (Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe, 1998). 125 JS 44, pp. 1260, 1263–64. His father Hua Biao 表 lived from 204 to 275 and had six sons; Qiao seems to have been the third. 126 Lu/Xinian, p. 147, says this was in 286, which I think is wrong. QJW 2 (Jin Wudi’s prose) and 66 (Hua’s prose) is also wrong: the Hua-related item in j. 2 should go under Jin Huidi’s prose.


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As I have stated, down to about 287 was “Period One of Bureaucratic Historiography and Archives,” and it was heavily affected by Xun Xu’s career-building. Notice the horizontality of his appointments. In 266 he was shizhong and inspector of the Writers; he broadened this in 274 with the Library inspectorate. It is worth noting, too, that his famous ancestors Xun Yu and Xun Yue held those two posts, respectively, serving at Cao Cao’s court in the 190s, at the end of Eastern Han. Early Western Jin was a time of private history writing: Sima Biao and Chen Shou worked independently from Xun, although, at least in the case of Chen, subject to his pressure. It is probably not a coincidence that up until 270–71 there was no Prefect of Palace Writers; this, in my opinion, may have been from Xun’s effort to keep Zhang Hua from rising into that slot for reasons that were raised in Chapter Four (the section “Problems in the Bureaucratic Structure of the Palace Writers Office”). Xun’s cross-bureau influence was highest in the years 274–83. He pursued three projects that used staff from both offices and also from music offices. After the Wu War planning ramped up at the end of 279, Zhang Hua was gone from Luoyang, and once again there was no Prefect of the Palace Writers until about 282, with He Qiao. From the time that He Qiao was made Prefect of Palace Writers (ca. 282) to past 286, he remained in Zhang’s ambit and must have been a counterweight to Xun Xu’s last years in power, when Xun was using chronology and Shiji studies to complete his transcription-edition of the Zhushu jinian slips. Xun may even have desired to “pack” the writing offices by appointing his fourth-cousin Xun Yue 岳 as Palace Attendant. We learned about Yue in Chapter One; his was basically a military career, and leaves no evidence of belles lettres or historiography of any kind. He Qiao was thus the last person to exert anti-Xun leverage in the Palace Writers, and his actions vis-a-vis Xun signaled Xun’s vulnerability. After 282, except for slight evidence about He Qiao in 286, the Writers saw no high appointments until Hua Qiao’s brother Hua Yi became inspector in 287. On the Library side, after Xun Xu there was no inspector until about 291, when Huidi reinstituted the office. Based on these facts, it is not far-fetched to claim that Xun Xu’s Ji Tomb editorial team, its large size, the combining of projects, and the blunt editorial moves all caused scholar-officialdom to hail any action that might bring criticism of Xun and dampen his power. Zhang Hua did not deliver such public criticisms against Xun at this time, but his protege He Qiao did, and later so did Shu Xi and Zhi Yu. Zhang, however, may have been crucial from behind the scenes.

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By 282–83, with He Qiao’s rise in stature and Zhang in exile, we see the beginning of “Period Two of Bureaucratic Historiography and Archives”—Zhang Hua’s period.127 As discussed, Zhang was placed in the quasi-dual Palace Writers leadership role with Xun Xu, yet I sensed that Zhang was kept from being prefect until 271. His career peaked only later, after Xun Xu’s death, and its real height was from 291 to 300. In 291 Zhang began to advise Empress Jia; in 292 He Qiao died, and then we see many appointments of Zhang’s other proteges like Hua Qiao, Wei Heng, Shu Xi, He Shao, and Lu Ji 陸機 . Just before Zhang’s death in 300, his literary protege Jia Mi 賈謐 (d. 300; see Table 5, year 297), who was in fact a political kingpin, was tasked with a “national history 國史 ”; I deduce that this was a result of Zhang’s urging. Recent scholarship has not paid attention to the historiographical activities among Jia Mi’s “Twenty-four Friends”; but in fact several of the group—Shu Xi, Lu Ji 陸機 , Zuo Si 左思 , Jia Mi, Zhi Yu—were placed in Library and Writers offices from 296–302,128 and made statements about or writings on historiography. We might characterize the impact of Xun Xu and Zhang Hua in the following way. Xun Xu had opportunities to interact positively with historians like Sima Biao and Chen Shou in Period One, but did not do so, instead pursuing his own walled-off projects in ritual research. On the other hand, during Xun’s Period One Zhang Hua was grooming proteges, and then in Period Two, with Ji Tomb-inspired interest in historiography and chronology, his proteges began a concerted attack on Xun Xu and in a sense took over Ji Tomb research and the historiography offices. Xun Xu had fashioned a career aided by factional politics; whereas Zhang Hua after the Wu War created a new faction that first was motivated by scholarly criticism of Xun, then proceeded to guide literary and historiographic theory and method, forming offshoot cliques. Like Du Yu, Zhang Hua was away from Luoyang, but he used proxies to continue his intellectual pursuits. Compared with 127

Shaughnessy, Rewriting, p. 147, errs by stating that Zhang took over the Imperial Library after Xun Xu was demoted. Zhang was never appointed directly in the Library offices. 128 On Zhang’s patronage of He Shao, see his poem to He, trans. Straughair, Chang Hua, pp. 88–90. On the Twenty-four Friends, see David Knechtges, “Sweet-peel Orange or Southern Gold: Regional Identity in Western Jin Literature,” in Paul Kroll and David Knechtges, eds., Studies in Early Medieval Chinese Literature and Cultural History (Provo, Utah: The T’ang Studies Society, 2003), p. 32, and the sources cited there. For Zuo Si’s reputation concerning historiography, see JS 92 (biography of Zuo Si), p. 2377.


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Xun Xu, Zhang may have been less interested in plain political power: he did not build a Xun Xu type of horizontal control across bureaus, but groomed and helped others in their work and careers. Changes in methods of historiogr aphy We recall that Xun Xu’s four-part scheme of organization for the Imperial Library as reflected in his Jin Zhongjing bu provided historiography, as distinct from the “classics,” a separate footing. Such thinking about historiography had been developing since Wei times. Moreover, in Xun’s review of literature, “Wenzhang Xulu,” he remarked on Weiera writings on Wei history.129 Xun had interaction with Chen Shou and Hua Qiao and was familiar with recent official projects on Wei and Jin materials. He supported historiographers per se, at least to the extent that for some (for example, He Qiao and Wang/Fu Zan) he provided access to the Ji Tomb texts.130 By 282–83, some of these just mentioned, and others, began to discuss the tools and methods of historiography, particularly chronology, both ancient and current. Chronology as Theory and Practice Somewhere around 284, or even a bit later, a debate arose over methods for developing the historiography of the new Jin dynasty. Its date and context are uncertain, but it addressed what we might call a matter of dynastic divisions, in the modern Chinese sense of “duandai 段 代 ”: in effect, the question was “when does a dynasty’s history start.” Where is the year zero? Recently, Anthony Fairbank showed that Xun Xu promoted a certain idea in this matter at a moment when he began receiving attacks from several sides. Jinshu’s biography of Jia Mi, in a very short passage that is the only evidence of the existence of a subgroup of the “Twenty-four Friends” who were concerned with histori129

A passage (SGZ 21 zhu, p. 622) documents Wei-era scholars who wrote “Wei shu”: “At nineteen, Sun Gai 孫該 (Wei era; otherwise unknown) served as clerk in the Office of Transmission of Accounts (shangji), and was made Gentleman of the Palace. He compiled ‘Wei shu’; and [after] a transfer as Erudit and Chief Clerk of the Right for the Minister over the Masses, he returned [to Luoyang] and into the office of Gentleman Compilers.” 130 Feng Dan (chap. 2, table 1), a Jia–Xun partisan, was conversant with “anecdotes about Wei and Jin”; JS 36, p. 1071, where he discusses the sources that described Zhong Hui’s treachery. On Jin historiography in general, see Fairbank, “Ssu-ma I,” chap. 2; also chap. 6 of J. Michael Farmer, The Talent of Shu: Qiao Zhou and the Intellectual World of Early Medieval Sichuan (Albany: SUNY, 2007); reviewed by H. L. Goodman, TP 94.1–2 (2008), pp. 163–76.

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ography, notes that sometime well before the “Friends” circle, scholars had argued about where to begin chronicling Jin history: Inspector of Palace Writers Xun Xu thought it appropriate that the Wei Zhengshi period be the initiation year; Gentleman Drafter Wang Zan 王瓚 ” (who I deduce was in fact “Fu 傅 ” Zan, a Hanshu commentator) wanted to draw on the Jiaping (249–54) reign and forward, and enter the [affairs of its] courtiers into Jin history. At that time, with lingering doubts, they could not resolve it.131

Xun favored an ur-beginning at the opening of the Wei’s Zhengshi 正 始 reign. That reign’s first month was December 13, 239, to January 12, 240, at which time calendar corrections established the regnal newyear 正月 . Sima power then was only ad hoc and partial. However, Wang/Fu Zan favored a Jin beginning in the Wei reign-period just after the coup of 249, that is, the time when Sima Yi and his sons had assumed broad power. From the sources we get no more than this brief outline of the debate. Xun Xu’s position may have reflected loyalty to the Simas that stemmed back to 250, and thus he would be lauding the Simas by adding years to their overall period of power. Fairbank mentions the theory that Xun Xu was smoothing over the violent origins of the Simas, and making the coup of 249 legitimate by its having been committed by the proleptic Jin founders. It is not a strong theory: an attempt to refocus or hide Sima violence would not have been helped much by a start date of 240.132 Furthermore, we have no clues as to why Xun and Wang/Fu both focused on such early parts of the Wei. Why was this debate not talking about certain months around 260, or 264–65, that 131

See JS 40, pp. 1173–74. Liu/Biannian, p. 171, places this in 291, but makes no attempt to explain Xun’s being mentioned nor the Jinshu chronological marker “Before this time… .” In chap. 7, sect. “The Post-Xun Xu Resumption of the Debate about the Beginnings of the Jin Dynasty,” I comment further on dating the debate and its two parts. On the Xun–Wang/Fu debate, see Fairbank, “Ssu-ma I,” pp. 71–80. Declercq, Writing Against the State, p. 124, n. 3, uses Xun’s official title here to date the debate to 271, but I disagree. Declerq follows Lu/Xinian, pp. 641, 649, and p. 924, who elides all three Wangs who had the names: 讚, 贊, and 瓚. This triple-elision is followed neither by Jinshu renming suoyin 晉書人名索引 nor Jinshu cidian 晋書辭典; they consider them all separate Wangs. But it is in fact logical to elide only the first two, as explained in Cao Daoheng 曹道衡 and Shen Yucheng 沈玉成, Zhonggu wenxue shiliao congkao 中古文學史料叢考 (Beijing: Zhonghua, 2003), pp. 175–76. For Jin times it gives us only a Wang/Fu Zan 瓚 and a Wang Zan 贊 (or 讚), who was a poet and military man who died in 311 in fighting surrounding the fall of Luoyang. 132 Fairbank, “Ssu-ma I,” p. 74; see Zhou Yiliang 周一良, “Wei Jin Nanbei chao shixue yu wangchao shandai” 魏晉南北朝史學與王朝禪代, Beijing daxue xuebao 北京大學 學報 1987.2, pp. 26–31.


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is, Jin’s realpolitik origins under the Wei dynasty. It is certain, as Dominik Declercq has observed, 133 that the impact of Sima intrigues from 240 to 265 on political legitimacy would have made the debate a sensitive one. In any event, it was not resolved and would be revived by Jia Mi’s literary coterie in about 298, long after Xun Xu’s death (see Chapter Seven). As stated, this Wang was the Wang/Fu Zan who had been on the Ji Tomb team as a “Gentleman Drafter” and had researched paleographic matters concerning the reign periods of the ancient Wei state. Now in 284–85 he had the stature to oppose Xun Xu concerning the current Wei-Jin transition; and this historical reflexiveness may be part of our answer. The debate improves our sense of the evolution of historiography both in abstract organizational terms and as an intellectual process predating the well-known developments in Tang bureaucratic historiography. After the 280 Ji Tomb discovery, concerns about chronology added to the picture. To gain wider context for that as well as for Xun Xu’s and Wang/Fu Zan’s debate in 284–85, we should consider the Bamboo Annals and the problems of ancient chronology. Xun Xu’s Attempt to Impose a Zhou Chronology in the “First” Annals Edition One of the Ji Tomb texts, the Bamboo Annals (Zhushu jinian 竹書紀 年 ), was as far as we know the first, or one of the first, political chronologies to cover all of ancient Chinese history. Edward L. Shaughnessy, by sorting out the numerous early quotations that cited it with variant titles, has shown that our received version (that carried in the Sibu congkan series and derived from a Ming-era printing), contains a large amount of integral passages that reflect the Xun team’s transcription-edition. This not only contradicts the centuries-old skepticist opinion that the current edition is a total forgery, but provides an approximate sketch of tactics that the Xun Xu team members, not just Xun himself, were applying in their editing and interpreting of the Bamboo Annals. Shaughnessy’s tracking backward and forward through quotational history has identified the Xun team’s (or simply Xun’s) version mostly through quotations in Li Daoyuan’s 酈道元 (d. 527) Shuijing zhu 水經注 , and yet another version through quotations in the eighth-century Sima Zhen’s 司馬貞 commentary to Shiji.134 The 133

Declercq, Writing Against the State, pp. 124–25. Shaughnessy, Rewriting, p. 214, establishes the data: Sima’s commentary to Shiji quotes an edition of Annals 76 times; and Li’s commentary to Shuijing quotes it 109 134

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former turns out to be more or less analogous with our received Bamboo Annals text; the latter was a product of a post-Xun Xu editor or editors. Toward the end of this section, I open up this one matter by using what we have learned so far about the lives of those who pursued Ji Tomb studies and show clearly how “another edition” has a variety of candidates. I have mentioned already the three Jin-era reports on the nature of the Ji Tomb texts (Xun Xu’s, Du Yu’s, and Shu Xi’s). They all demonstrated that the Bamboo Annals contained many year-entries of the local Wei kings during Eastern Zhou. Du Yu’s report was the most detailed; he said that there was also a through-chronology of Xia, Yin, and Zhou, but that for the Zhou state of Jin “special records” were given, going past the time when Jin was destroyed by Wei, at which point the Annals only carried Wei kings’ regnal years. Du Yu’s report made these points: 1) the annals began from the Xia, Yin and Zhou eras; 2) beginning with the ancient Jin ruler Shangshu 殤叔 (r. 784–81 bc),135 entries used local Jin regnal years, and that Du had to “calculate” to determine that these were in fact the period of Wei control over Jin (Du matched up Wei Ai Wang’s dates with those of the rulers of Qin, Han, Chu, and other states); 3) the lengths of local reigns were specified by numeral years, but had no ganzhi; 4) the calendric system used a yin-month New Year, not the zimonth one prescribed by Lu calendrics; 5) Wei king Huicheng declared an additional reign in his 36th year and reigned sixteen more years.136 Through arguments that will follow, I claim that it was specifically Xun Xu, He Qiao, and Wang/Fu Zan who, after finishing Mu Tianzi zhuan, began to work jointly on the Bamboo Annals—the result being the first, or “Xun Xu,” edition by about 284. They would have perceived the Warring States Jin/Wei focus of the Annals text. As Shaughnessy states, “Xun Xu and his team of editors were doubtless led to organize the text in this way by their desire to make it correspond, to the extent possible, with the chronology contained in the Shi ji, which they would have considered normative.”137 As we see, below, this overtimes but with significant textual differences. The received version, based on a Ming printing, basically agrees with the Li quotations: 106 of its 109 usages. 135 Du turns out to have been mistaken on this point; see ibid., p. 192. 136 Ibid., p. 190. 137 Ibid., pp. 238, 246.


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view should be slightly emended to show that Shiji was not always venerated, but sometimes criticized. This first Bamboo Annals transcription introduced significant changes to the original wordings and format. To solve problems in Shang-Zhou chronology the Xun team repositioned loose bamboo strips and filled in breaks and corruptions sometimes using slips from other Ji Tomb works that they may have inadvertently thought belonged to the Annals. Shaughnessy shows that they made mistakes when moving the strips, especially when they sought a solution for Du Yu’s point number five, above.138 Shaughnessy has deduced that they made calculations to find out which year in Wei Huicheng Wang’s reign formed a better match; for example, one passage concerning moving the capital contained a jiayin year’s fourth month. The team found a “better” year for that and adjusted the text to conform to their idea of chronologically correct dates. Subsequently, Shu Xi and Wei Heng, or some other post-Xun editor, restored that passage to wording that erased Xun’s change. 139 Ultimately, the boldest Xun Xu change was to convert the Bamboo Annals from reign years of the local preQin states, mostly the Warring States entities Jin and Wei, to the yearentries of the Zhou kings, and at least in some cases adding ganzhi 干 支 sexagenary year-notation. This arrangement is the one we see today in the Sibu congkan version, or “current Bamboo Annals.” As commentarial strategy it was unprecedented. It would be a hundred years before Xu Guang 徐廣 (352–425) introduced ganzhi dates in a historical commentary, placing them in his notes to Shiji’s tables.140 The act of converting local Jin/Wei reign years into Zhou universal reign years, with some references to the ganzhi system, was typical of Xun Xu’s career-long agenda to affirm Sima dynastic legitimacy through a prisca Zhou system of ritual standards. The Use of Shiji, and Several Candidates for the “Other” Annals Edition Anyone researching ancient chronology in the 280s would rely on the centuries-old Shiji. To bring that work into Western Jin relevance, we return to Sima Biao. A close relative of Jin Wudi, he seems not to have been party to the factionalism surrounding Xun and Zhang in the 270s, and took a strong intellectual interest in Qiao Zhou’s 譙周 (d. 270) materials on Eastern Han history. Qiao, like his student Chen 138

Ibid., pp. 203–4, 246, 250–51. Ibid., pp. 241, 250. 140 Ibid., esp. n. 125. 139

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Shou, was from a scholar-family of the state of Shu. His father was an expert in classics and in tuwei 圖緯 , or charts and “weft-texts” of the classics, and two of his teachers were well-known diviners.141 He had proposed successfully in 264 that Shu surrender to Wei. He was too ill to take up Sima Zhao’s offer to go immediately to Luoyang with title as marquis. But he did go in 267 at the summons of Jin’s first emperor, Wudi, or Sima Yan.142 Even though he spent nearly all his years in Chengdu, Qiao rose eventually to the honorarium of Imperial Household Grandee under the Jin, the same status once awarded Xun Xu. The work of Qiao Zhou that Sima Biao studied closely was Gushi kao 古史考 , more than likely a narrative history of ancient China, perhaps going into Han. We read in Sima’s Jinshu biography: Earlier, Qiao Zhou considered that Sima Qian’s Shiji’s dealing with matters before Zhou and Qin sometimes adopted vulgar expressions and sayings from all philosophical schools without exclusive reliance on correct scriptures. For that reason, he wrote Gushi kao (Examinations of Ancient History) in twenty-five pian. It relied completely on old canons to correct Sima Qian’s mistakes. Sima Biao found, in turn, that Qiao Zhou’s work still lacked perfection, so he made a list of 122 incorrect items in Gushi kao that in great part was based on words in the [Zhushu] Jinian [竹書 ] 紀年 (Bamboo Annals) from the Ji tomb. This [commentary on Qiao’s work] became known in [Biao’s] time.143

The well-connected Sima Biao, known among historiographers in Luoyang because of his mounting collection of Han historiographic materials,144 was seeking out useful materials of other scholars, and Qiao Zhou was already famous for his Shu-Wei political dealings and had received special treatment from Sima Yan. Mansfelt Beck’s careful sorting through the external evidence demonstrates that Qiao had in fact compiled many parts of a potential history of Eastern Han, specifically chronologies of predictions and observations in mantic astronomy and their impact on court sacrifices.145 141

For Qiao’s divinations and prophecies, see SGZ 42, p. 1022, pp. 1032–33 (predicting his own and Sima Zhao’s death-dates, using hemerology); and JS 28, pp. 828, 834. 142 See Farmer, Talent of Shu; also see Beck, Treatises, pp. 27–31, who also gives a full, analyzed list of Qiao’s writings (pp. 29–30). On Qiao’s place in Shu history, see J. Michael Farmer, “Art, Education, and Power: Illustrations in the Stone Chamber of Wen Weng,” TP 86.1–3 (2000), p. 125. 143 JS 82, p. 2142; translation based partly on Beck, Treatises, p. 31. 144 See Beck, Treatises, p. 5 (citing Sima’s Jinshu biography), and p. 16 for the second part of the biography, which was taken from Sima’s postface to his Gushi kao commentary; it gives his overall negative opinion of previous attempts at writing Eastern Han history, singling out Qiao. 145 See Beck, Treatises, pp. 27–32; also Liao, Liang Jin shibu, p. 64, on Qiao’s mate-


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In my view, there was an even stronger reason for interest in Gushi kao: it was that Shiji, while only just emerging as the benchmark for ancient history, after about 280 became open to correction in the light of Ji Tomb evidence. In taking up Qiao Zhou’s materials, Sima Biao was engaging in an ongoing revolution in historiography; it is unfortunate that we cannot date his access to the Ji Tomb slips or transcriptions. His extensive use of Bamboo Annals data was a point that the Tang editors of his Jinshu biography emphasized by making it the final remark on his life. Sima Biao was showing that although Shu scholars like Qiao Zhou and Chen Shou had much to offer (Qiao’s Gushi kao may have been one of the first commentaries on Shiji), nonetheless Qiao had died before the new evidences emerged, and his work would have to be updated by such fortunate Luoyang scholars as Sima himself. Sima Biao emerges as the second of four candidates for compiler of a post-Xun Xu edition of the Bamboo Annals, the Wei Heng/ Shu Xi version, discussed above, being another. In Sima’s case the evidence is indirect and vague, namely, his having been a relatively high Library official from the late 260s forward (see Table 5) and his systematic compilation of Annals data when correcting Gushi kao. There is no way to determine if Sima did that around 281–82, when Xun Xu’s team were finishing work on the preface to Mu Tianzi zhuan, or only later, when Xun’s stature fell. While working on the Bamboo Annals, Xun Xu et al. were also appealing to Shiji data as benchmarks for chronology, relying on both its shijia 世家 (“hereditary families,” or, “genealogy”) accounts of the individual Warring States and its “Liu guo nianbiao” 六國年表 , and additionally they called on Shiben 世本 , a pre-Han source of royal chronologies thought to have been used by Sima Qian, and later by Huangfu Mi 皇甫謐 (215–282). Reliance on these sources was specifically mentioned in the preface to Mu Tianzi zhuan. Sima Qian’s Hanera work had already achieved a high place, perhaps since the middle of Eastern Han: we have noted Qiao Zhou, above,146 but after 283, with transcriptions of the Bamboo Annals becoming public, Shiji was more carefully scrutinized. There is important evidence that both Xun Xu and the man I have been calling his erstwhile chief assistant for the Ji Tomb transcription and editing project, namely He Qiao, developed chronological argurial on Eastern Han rites. 146 Goodman, Ts’ao P’i Transcendent, p. 130 (and n. 28), relates a mention in 220 of Sima Qian as a venerable model for historiography.

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ments by using Shiji evidence. We find this in Pei Yin’s 裴駰 fifthcentury commentary to Shiji. There, in a much-debated passage, the words of Xun actually at first quote He Qiao, who is made to say:147 The Annals begin with Huangdi and end with the “current king 今王 ” of Wei. The current king was the son of Wei Huicheng Wang 魏惠成王 . According to the Shiji, Huicheng Wang was only called Hui Wang 惠王 , and Hui Wang’s son was called Xiang Wang 襄王 , and Xiang Wang’s son was called Ai Wang 哀王 . Hui Wang died in his thirty-sixth year, and Xiang Wang died in his sixteenth year, such that Hui and Xiang combined reigned for fifty-two years.

At this very point, Xun Xu’s voice reenters, saying: “Now, based on the ancient text 今案古文 … .” Xun proceeds to reveal that the Annals (I agree with Shaughnessy that this is the work to which “guwen” refers, specifically indicating the original bamboo slips) proves that Huicheng reigned thirty-six years but then to mark his rise in Zhou ranks he created a second reign that lasted seventeen years. Thus, Xun claimed, Shiji was mistaken to state that this was a period of two kings’ reigns and that there had even been a king “Ai Wang.” Xun also refers to Shiben for corroboration. I shall not repeat the centuries-old controversy about the reigns of the ancient Wei state, leaving that to Shaughnessy’s study, which is clear and accessible on the matter.148 I will, however, comment on the time, the thrust, and the implications of Pei Yin’s passage. My reading punctuates differently from that of several Qing, Republican, and modern scholars who have remarked on the difficulties, yet my seeing Xun Xu’s reply as starting with “jin an guwen” and as a chastisement of He is defensible: Xun is quoting his underling (or former underling), He Qiao, and has shown that He was getting corroboration only from Shiji and thus not up to his task.149 147

Cited above, n. 45. With slight changes, I follow the translation of Shaughnessy, Rewriting, pp. 190–91. 148 Ibid., pp. 233–41. 149 See Shao, “Shiji jijie ‘Xun Xu yue He Qiao yun’ duan zhi biaodian kao” (pre-publication draft), for a complete review of those opinions. (I thank Prof. Shao for making his draft available to me.) Both Shao and Shaughnessy, Rewriting (pp. 190–91), follow the Zhonghua eds. of Shiji in punctuating so that Xun’s opinion starts with “According to the Shiji …” and continues until the end. Shao correctly claims (p. 7) that He would have been below Xun in official status, and that the two were mutually antagonistic, which fact was discussed, above, in my section “The Team Members.” Further, Shao is right to notice that Xun was the project chief of the Tomb texts; thus “jin an” in my view was emphatic: not merely “now,” but “now from my view,” contrasting with the plain “an” that referred to He Qiao. All these points support interpreting Xun’s comment as a chastisement.


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There remains the question of what sort of text Pei Yin quoted. I do not think it was a remnant of Xun Xu’s so-called summaries that went into his Jin Zhongjing catalog. Earlier in this chapter, we looked into the probable structure of that work. Here, in his criticism of He Qiao’s chronology, we do not have anything like a bibliographic description. It is also in the realm of possibility that the Xun–He dialog is a remnant of Xun Xu’s Wenzhang xulu, which, as we saw, contained a quotation from Wei Heng’s observations about the Ji Tomb texts. But it is unlikely, since most of the extant passages of Wenzhang xulu show Xun’s role there as that of a biographer of literary men and commenter on their literary and in some cases political impacts, not as a philological critic.150 Instead I see two other possibilities. First of all, it may have been a remnant of some separate record by Xun of philological problems in the Annals, one that argues with his technical assistants, as we saw in the case of his dialog with Lie He in Chapter Five. The Lie He dialog in fact remained an integral free-standing text for some time, was copied into Xun Xu’s wenji, and ended up in Songshu 宋書 . Here an indirect dialog (Xun speaks to He Qiao only in writing) may have had a similar history. Second, it may have been a running commentary that originally was part of the Xun team’s transcription of the Annals. In form, it would have been something like the Type I “largecharacter notes” or one of the “small-character notes,” both styles of commentary visible even in today’s “current Bamboo Annals,” some arguably attributable to Xun Xu (the Annals comments of Shen Yue are, however, clearly announced).151 Xun shows us that He Qiao believed the Annals started its ancient chronology with Huangdi, a fact that differed from the observations of Du Yu (see above). Du Yu and the Xun team may simply have considered different, loose bamboo slips as candidates for the beginning portion of the Bamboo Annals per se. Xun seems to agree with this “Huangdi” assessment, since he does not make a case against it, concentrating only on the problem of the reign length of Wei Hui Wang. The Xun–He disagreement may be dated quite early, perhaps in 281–82, when He Qiao was still working on the preface to Mu Tianzi zhuan and had not yet (quite possibly no one had) started to arrange 150

Shaughnessy, Rewriting, p. 191 (n. 7) suggests that the Xun–He passage “derives from Xun Xu’s Jinian xulu 紀年敘錄 .” There is no such Xun title, and I believe Shaughnessy here means that the passage was Xun’s “xu” (summary description) covering the Ji Tomb “Jinian” that went into his larger Jin Zhongjing. 151 Ibid., pp. 205–7.

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and interpret the Bamboo Annals slips. This is why Xun states “Now, based on the ancient text 今案古文 … ,” reflecting the fact that he, Xun, had begun to examine them and make a running commentary. It is also possible that the criticism occurred slightly later—around 284–87—with He Qiao already pursuing a Bamboo Annals transcription of his own after being promoted to Prefect of the Palace Writers in 282. Then the comments by Xun Xu would be seen as directed against a rival’s editorial skill. Such an interpretation is supported by a fourteenth-century datum, namely, an item in the Treatise on Literature of the dynastic-history Songshi 宋史 , which lists “Zhushu jinian” as having three juan, and having been commented on 注 by Xun, and compiled/edited 編 by He Qiao.152 This datum is made difficult, though, by the fact that both scholars are given a role in the named book. From everything we know of the two men, this book would not have been created by Xun’s making a set of notes and then He’s acting as a supporter of those notes by arranging and completing them. I favor an “early” scenario, making the Xun–He passage an excerpt from a Xun Xu system of notes on the Bamboo Annals composed when He was still an Imperial Library underling. The hint that only Xun Xu was starting to work on the “guwen” Annals makes this more plausible. In the end, no one scenario, especially where it concerns exactly who was developing a separate, non-Xun or post-Xun Bamboo Annals version, is decidedly better than any other. I merely suggest that with He Qiao we have our third possible candidate for a Bamboo Annals editor—if not writing a full transcription-edition, then at least entering opinions about chronology verbally, or as notes placed along with Xun’s. A fourth candidate is Wang/Fu Zan. He had direct access to the ancient slips from having been on Xun Xu’s original team. He was also a scholar of the classic Hanshu: his commentary would become known and used in later generations.153 As we saw, he became opposed to Xun Xu on methods of organizing Jin dynastic history. More important is that aspects of Wang/Fu’s Hanshu jijie 漢書集解 provide additional support to his candidacy as a Bamboo Annals editor. Extant passages several times quote the various formats of commentary (large- and small-character) that somehow entered the Xun team “first” edition of the Bamboo Annals, and he also seems to have been aligning and com152

Songshi (Zhonghua edn.) 203, p. 5088. His work was titled Hanshu jijie [yinyi] 漢書集解 [音義]; see Galer, “Sounds and Meanings,” pp. 66–67. 153


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paring different editions of the Annals that in later years had slightly differing titles.154 These extant passages also show that he referred frequently to the pre-Han Shiben.155 Reliance on the latter had been explicitly stated by Xun Xu both in the preface to Mu Tianzi zhuan and in the Xun–He passage about chronology, which we just analyzed. Wang/Fu Zan thus may have had a role in bringing the work into the foreground, acting in some sense like the kind of technical expert that Xun Xu was used to in other projects; conversely, he may have become interested in Shiben because of Xun, or simply knew that text independently. All these aspects of Wang/Fu Zan’s work show him to have been an organized researcher into Bamboo Annals chronology, knowledgable in its first annotated transcription by the Xun team and in early variant editions under variant titles. Besides the prisca Zhou program fostered by Xun Xu, and the fact that a universal count of years had a pleasing systematicity, there are other explanations for Xun Xu’s and his teams’ actions to change the original Ji Tomb Bamboo Annals. Edward L. Shaughnessy raises the fascinating suggestion that the team may have had the current Western Jin’s legitimacy in mind.156 Zhou universal dates could deflect the ancient importance of the Wei state and smooth over the fact that the ancient Jin had been absorbed by ancient Wei. This would cast a triumphalist approval on the blatant facts of the fall of modern Wei from 249–65 ad, as it devolved into the hands of the modern Jin dynasts! Moreover, Xun Xu, like any historian ancient or modern, was perhaps simply concerned to establish meanings from broken and obscure texts through a universal chronology. If he could get the years to compute and be in accordance with modern benchmarks of chronology like Shiji and Shiben (or in fact criticize those latter sources), then the vagueness often entailed by moving bamboo slips and translating ancient graphs would seem less objectionable. This section has provided Western Jin texture to Shaughnessy’s breakthrough picture of the scholarly world at that time. It appears that Xun Xu’s Mu Tianzi zhuan team took up the task of making a “first” Bamboo Annals edition, and their work on it probably stopped (finished or unfinished) around 285. We have gained new context for the bare Jinshu report of the debate between Xun Xu and Wang/Fu 154

On his quoting the Annals commentary, see Shaughnessy, Rewriting, pp. 206–7; and on the differing Annals texts he was working with, ibid., pp. 218, 228 (n. 86), and 231. 155 See, e.g., HS 28A (zhu) (“Dili zhi”), pp. 1557, 1560, 1669. 156 Shaughnessy, Rewriting, p. 256.

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Zan and for Pei Yin’s passage showing Xun’s criticizing He Qiao on matters of chronology and the use of Shiji. Xun Xu’s reputation as an editor, with his overarching Zhou agenda that caused a reordering of the original slips and changes in format, was challenged starting around 283–84. We learned of three critical philological projects on the Bamboo Annals that may be considered as concurrent, and perhaps rival, to the one Shaughnessy rightly deems the first post-Xun Xu corrected “edition”—by Shu Xi (via Wei Heng). The latter was in fact the major revision, but other sorts of Annals commentary existed. Such Ji Tomb scholars reflected trends in historiography outside of Xun Xu’s purview and also changes in the court’s historiography bureaus. My discussion hopefully helps us see how Western Jin scholarship dealt with both old and new issues of reliability and forgery. When the Ji Tomb texts came into focus, the scholarly world found itself awash with “old texts” of a highly charged nature, reopening lines of questioning about historical fact and interpretation of history. It was an atmosphere perhaps not seen since early Eastern Han, after the work of Liu Xin to revamp the masters and the sages; furthermore, much of the scholarly world in the 270s and 80s was not yet finished digesting and refining the new proposals about antiquity, sages, and ancient texts that were propounded in xuanxue circles. Thus, with such startling material evidence in 280, sincerity of purpose and probity were important questions, ones that redounded to the man placed into the task of controlling and delivering the Ji Tomb texts. Was he admired and thought trustworthy? Clearly, the answer was “not so”: if there was anyone in Luoyang capable of bending facts, making reality and physical forms conform to an agenda, it was Xun Xu. In the published argumentations of Edward Shaughnessy and David Nivison (and at public conferences), the matter of “editorial change, qua mischief ” has been a chief dividing point. From Nivison’s point of view, it seems unlikely that anyone in the 280s, even if technically capable, would have wanted to change the discovered annals of pre-Han China. To corroborate Nivison’s idea that the Bamboo Annals were subjected to the sorts of juggling that pre-Qin calendar experts performed as they used both arcane and well-known celestial and historical cycles sometime before interment—a sound idea worthy of exploration— there will have to be in situ discoveries of pre-Qin calendrists’ and astronomers’ texts. However, Shaughnessy’s opinion about third-century ad manipulation, whether the latter was malign or muddled, can now, with the above social world of exegetes, calligraphers, access, and pol-


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itics, be given a major support. His sense of a fluid and multivalent world of text-copying and editing motives is, in my opinion, correct and insightful. This fluidity made for deep mistrust of Xun Xu’s handling of the texts, and mistrust of a man with already twelve years of an obsessive prisca Zhou reform agenda. All of this shows us that the lines between editing and forgery were thin, as they have always been in contexts of culturally charged texts and ideas. A foot-rule bubbles up as attacks on xun xu begin In 283, Luoyang experienced severe floods, and Xun Xu was forced to turn his attention away from the bamboo slips. He advised the court to set up a Commissioner of Waterways to manage Luoyang’s riverine systems.157 Just after that, he voiced yet another policy opinion about the functioning of the bureaucracy. His aim in it was to soften recent calls for appointing officials to revamp the panoply of administrative codes. The two officials whom the court proffered are completely unknown in history. Xun opens by extolling the virtues of relatively well known men—officials of Western Han named Zhang Shizhi 張釋之 and Bing Ji 邴吉 . They had risen from lowly stations and had warned emperors about how and when to apply adminstrative codes and hierarchical statuses, thus achieving a harmonious atmosphere among officialdom.158 Xun brings up the fact that his famous kinsman Xun You 荀攸 had been asked by Cao Cao to reform penal law, but that by the next reign that chore was only being pursued by one low official.159 According to Xun Xu, recent calls to reduce offices and thus affairs would only cause a need for more lower officials. Here he seems to have been harking back to the policy debates of 279 with which this chapter began, and as expected he advises that the bureaucracy not make cuts. He claims that it is actually the higher officials who are relied upon for knowledge of administrative procedure. In 283 Xun’s agenda broadly 157

The official title used is 都水使者. In Western Han times there was a Dushui office with several levels of officials; but none had this exact title, which came into play in Jin, probably pursuant to this action by Xun Xu, and in later periods of history as well. The editing of Xun’s biography, JS 39, p. 1156, places the incident before that concerning his and He’s report to Wudi on the heir-apparent (see chap. 7). I use “283” based on Zhi Yu’s biography, below, and Liu/Biannian 7, pp. 139–40. 158 On the two, see Michael Loewe, A Biographical Dictionary of the Qin, Former Han and Xin Periods (221 BC - AD 24) (Leiden: Brill, 2000), pp. 12–13 and 690–91. 159 You’s role as legist during Cao Cao’s rule in the 190s is described at JS 30, p. 921; see also chap. 1, “Xun Musicologists and Legists.”

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matches that of 279, but it uses different reasoning. Now, he is pointing out that the upper offices supply guidance, and they too need the support of the court, not just the bottom tier. We return to the Luoyang floods. The man whom Xun Xu appointed as Commissioner of Waterways was a well-known military tactician, Equipage Master for the throne, engineer, and Court Architect named Chen Xie 陳勰 . In his post-flood work, digging in Luoyang after the disaster, Chen found a foot-rule 尺 .160 Xun Xu was of course famous in Luoyang, and in some quarters excoriated for officiousness, factionalism, and his insistence on a certain prisca Zhou. It is no surprise that of all the scholars interested in antiquities and in the aesthetics and principles of standards, it would be Zhi Yu who was drawn to Chen’s discovery of the foot-rule. We learn about this in Zhi’s biography, from which I translate the following passage:161 Court Architect Chen Xie was digging and found an ancient footrule.162 The Masters of Writing office 尚書 (possibly meaning simply Zhi Yu himself, who had just been appointed shangshu lang) sent up a memorial: “The ‘present-day’ foot-rule [standard] is longer than the ancient one; it is appropriate that we [instead] use the ancient as correct.” Pan Yue 潘岳 thought that [something] used so regularly for so long should not be changed. Zhi Yu disagreed and said: “Formerly the sages observed the traces [of things] in the world and determined their appearances. They gave images to [material] things and fashioned devices, so as to preserve them for use at proper times. Therefore they gave a tripled quality to heaven and a doubled quality to earth, and so fixed the rules of computation. They followed the lü regulators to set out divisions. By so doing they determined the degrees of lengths. In making things they had models, so that when employing [those things] there were verifications. They marked out the progress of stellar movements per the yin and yang (namely, using solar and lunar calculations), thus the heavens and earth could not hide their true na160

Chen Xie has no biography in JS. But we know that early in his career he was highly regarded by both Sima Zhao (for expertise in military tactics) and Sima Yan, for whom he frequently was master of carriage and hunting equipage (JS 24 [“Zhiguan zhi”], p. 741, which also says that “late in the 280s” he was manager of Luoyang waterways; such dating means that Chen held the 283 post for several years. Chen was also a builder of court structures and domiciles: sometime around 288 he held the post of Court Architect, responsible in one case for leading 60,000 workers in rebuilding the Jin Ancestral Temple, which had been undermined by a deep spring (JS 27 [“Wuxing zhi”], p. 802). In another case he was the builder for structures associated with the mansion of Hua Biao’s 華表 (204–275) son Yi (JS 44, p. 1261), for whom see Table 5, under 287–91. 161 JS 51, p. 1425. 162 Chen is called by his late-280s title, but it can be an anachronistic usage: “[the eventual] ‘Court Architect’ Chen once found a foot-rule.”


chapter six tures. They made a standard of right-ascension [for stellar observation] and thus the dangling constellations could not contain mistakes. They applied [these principles] to the metal [bells] and [sounding] stones, and thus the pitches and scales were harmonized. They brought this to bear on compasses and try-squares, thus devices agreed in their applications. ... The present-day foot-rule is longer than the ancient one by something approaching half an inch. The music bureaus have used it and their pitch-regulators do not blend; the astronomers have used it, and the constellations have given wrong interpretations. The offices of the physicians have used it, and the hollow interstices (nodes along jingluo 經絡 pathways) have been completely off. In all three of these, dimensions and volumes must have their sources, and correct and incorrect must have verifications. They have all been impeded and so fail to work; thus we ought to change the present-day [standard], to follow the ancient.”

With the history of Ji Tomb scholarship having been examined, we can interpret this opinion and locate it in a milieu. When he was young, Zhi Yu had been a protege of the well-known physician and medical theorist Huangfu Mi, who had only recently died before the Chen Xie discovery. Huangfu’s own prose shows the same sort of interest in the epistemology of “form,” as contexted in technics and arts.163 Zhi’s thoughts contain an even more philosophical approach to precision that, as expected, starts with “sages.” The sages gave numerate aspects to “forms,” which they made to reflect nature’s “images.” Those numericized forms in turn became linear measure and divisions, because the sages had integrated them with the sacred harmonic ratios inherent in tubal regulators. Zhi claimed that all the present-day standards of length were wrong and were negatively impacting astronomy, music, and medicine. To Zhi, that “ancient” foot-rule from the floods could be used to criticize Xun Xu’s reformed foot-rule of 274. He implied, but incorrectly, that what metrics needed here in about 284 was a re-shortening to match Chen Xie’s found-object. Zhi Yu was probably as confused about metrics as most any scholar who had not spent the time to understand the problems. His statement, “The ‘present-day’ foot-rule [standard] is longer than the ancient one” is highly problematical. We have seen that Xun Xu in 274 determined that the Zhou foot had become elongated late in Eastern Han times, 163

See Huangfu’s biography, JS 51, pp. 1409–10, and p. 1418 for Zhi Yu as among his disciples. A biographical study of Huangfu is given, along with contexted translations of his prose, in Declercq, Writing Against the State, chapter 5. On systematizing aspects of Huangfu’s medical work, see Vivienne Lo, “Huangdi Hama jing (Yellow Emperor’s Toad Canon),” AM 14.2 (2001), pp. 70, 89–90.

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and thus Xun’s “present-day foot-rule” became shorter to match Zhou, not longer. Zhi may have not cared which “ancient” metrics the Chen Xie rule reflected. Perhaps he had not surveyed metric devices as Xun had done, and as Li Chunfeng would do three centuries later in order to prove that many people ignorantly thought certain “ancient” footrules were of Zhou provenance. No matter Zhi’s lack of training, his indictment of Xun could not be stronger. Very soon after this, Zhi would be tasked by the court to review and criticize the “New Rites” 新禮 that Xun Xu’s mentor Xun Yi had compiled as part of the exegetical project of 264–65. In the next chapter, we learn about that critique, a thoughtful essay on the nature of exegesis and the inferior approach of Xun Yi. The time was becoming ripe for a thorough debunking of the whole Xun method itself—with its imposition of a precision based on complex proofs from antiquity, and with its editing and interpreting of ancient scripts via a method that many now disapproved.


“THE’VE STOLEN MY PHOENIX POOL,” 284–289 AND BEYOND Biangong 變宮: The Base Now Changed In actual practice, the last, seventh, note of the Zhengsheng scale has none of the closure and cadential power of the modern Western leading-tone. In early China biangong did not define an accompaniment or a new mode. It was a fillip and a decoration, to be discarded. It engendered few theoretic or poetic references. During his last years, Xun Xu tried to forge ahead but ultimately ran aground, and his base of operations was taken from him.

After about 283 Zhang Hua’s ambit was a broad, evolving web of people and groups. There was no strictly factional aspect to it, although some scholarly opinions against Xun Xu could reflect Wu War bitterness. Zhang’s key proteges were Zhi Yu and Shu Xi. We saw that Shu, about ten or fifteen years younger than Zhi, took a strong interest in Ji Tomb studies beginning in about 296, when he saw the bamboo slips and encountered Wei Heng’s corrected transcription. As for Zhi Yu, we saw his reaction to the discovery of yet another old foot-rule; in my interpretation he seemed to signal the end of Xun’s program of reforms. Antiquity, for Zhi, was worthy of respect on its own terms, an opinion that had a strong meaning for the post-Xun Xu scholars who lived through the end of Western Jin. This chapter helps to confirm Zhi Yu’s anti-Xunism. It examines the continuing interests of Zhang Hua’s proteges and offshoot scholarly circles, in particular Zhi Yu and his own friends. For these scholars, historiography remained important, thus in 284 Zhi offered the court an analysis of the faults of earlier scholarship on the Rites 禮 . Compendia of music, rites, laws, and the like can be thought of as historiography, since a chief function of that research was to assert the histories of institutions. Zhi’s 284 memorial in fact talks of methodology—specifically the way commentaries should function to help maintain those histories of institutions. Although a devotee of antiquity, he recognized a place for contemporary scholars.


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First we shall look at Zhi’s analysis and how it served as anti-Xun Xu criticism. Next comes an episode that I believe reveals Xun Xu’s last intellectual position at court concerning court scholarship. It shows that in about 286 he was still vetting and reviewing historiography. Subsequently, we learn about Xun’s demotion and death, and then, in about 298, a revival of the 284 debate between Xun Xu and Wang/Fu Zan over where to begin chronicling Jin history. The person responsible for that revival, in which Xun was posthumously voted down, was another of the later offshoots of the Zhang Hua ambit, Jia Mi, whom we have already met as well. The chapter ends by considering the meaning of Xun Xu’s life in scholarship and his prisca Zhou. I offer my own evaluation of how the latter might have been interpreted by Xun Xu’s peers in light of their personal notions of antiquity, and in light of the mentoring and literary bonds that had helped cement them as a group. Zhi yu’s ambit and a new anti-xunism With Zhang Hua in exile, and with Du Yu’s death in 284, a new group of scholars emerged. Among such men Ji Tomb studies, and particularly Xun Xu’s disturbing control of the project, were of great concern. Shu Xi was at this time still young: it would be several years before he came under Zhang Hua’s patronage and take over the Ji Tomb studies of Wei Heng. It is not clear what Wei Heng’s position was in 283 or 284, and in fact there are no episodes or anecdotes linking him with Xun Xu or with Shu Xi and others. Buried inside the opening pages of the “Treatise on Rites” in Jinshu 晋書 , however, is evidence of Zhi Yu’s creation of a direct anti-Xun opposition. The previous chapter showed that only two contemporary remarks were even indirectly suspicious of Xun Xu’s Ji Tomb competence—Du Yu’s and Shu Xi’s. Edward L. Shaughnessy’s study shows in a convincing way that the “other” edited transcription of Zhushu jinian 竹書紀 年 (Bamboo Annals) was attempting to eliminate the intrusions committed by Xun’s “first” edition, especially the use of Zhou regnal dates. Yet neither those nor other remarks about Xun Xu’s scholarship, all edited in the fifth through seventh centuries, state specific faults of Xun Xu. We do not have whole passages from letters, notes, or discussions that show exactly how Xun Xu’s approach to paleography and restoration, or indeed his entire prisca Zhou program, was perceived. To gain insight into anti-Xunism, we must follow the outer edges of comments

“they ’ve stolen my phoenix pool”


made by those in Zhi Yu’s ambit. Those edges of discourse show that historiographers continued to shape arguments about historiography itself, as they had already started doing with chronology. Now, the arguments would focus on the nature of commentaries and strike out at Xun Xu’s famous relative Xun Yi. We now turn to Zhi Yu’s and Wang Jie’s 王接 (267–305) ideas about commentaries that, as indeed many would have agreed, indicated a respect toward antiquity that was more sincere than that shown by Xun Yi and Xun Xu. Deep antiquity, that time-realm before the Zhou and before even the Xia, had been promoted by Cao Pi in the 220s; and by the mid-280s Western Jin scholars could still suggest that antiquity was paramount in any thinking about sages, or about hallowed texts. But at the same time they did not refuse modern scholarship its due. They even promoted Wei scholars—a surprising move. Zhi Yu’s and Wang Jie’s Ideas about the Historiographical Value of Commentaries Zhi Yu wrote a thorough review of the problems encountered in court projects to redact the inherited skeins of ritual texts. His review was placed by the Tang Jinshu editors near the beginning of the “Treatise on Rites” 禮志 , which occupies juan numbers 19–21. A short editorial preamble starts off the Treatise, giving a condensed version of the ancient history of the rites and their changes in Wei and in Jin times. The work of Wang Su 王肅 (195–256) and Gaotang Long 高堂隆 (d. 237) during Wei Mingdi’s reign is commended, but noted too is the difficulty in restoring rites studies after the fall of Luoyang in 315–16, citing Dai Miao’s 戴邈 post-317 speech urging in broad hortatory terms the establishment of a state academy in Jiankang.1 After the editorial preamble, Western Jin developments are taken up in detail, especially the importance of the sacrificial rites, because the object of Zhi Yu’s critique will be Xun Yi’s compilation chiefly as it concerned mourning proprieties. We start this important document with the Jinshu compilers’ own short history of Wesern Jin ritual scholarship, after which they quote Zhi Yu’s long memorial.2 At the beginning of Jin, the Masters of Writing Xun Yi 荀顗 and Zheng Chong 鄭沖 (both men died in 274; see Chapter Two, Table 1) fashioned 1

The speech of Dai Miao is found at JS 69, pp. 1848–49. The passage following, about the history of rites studies, is summarized in a paragraph in Nanqi shu 南齊書 (Zhonghua edn.) 9 (“Li,” A), p. 117. 2 The passage here begins at JS 19, p. 580, last line.


chapter seven the institutes of the state. After the dynasty moved south, there were Xun Song 荀崧 (d. 329/30) and Diao Xie 刁協 (d. 322), who added and subtracted items of court protocol (in the period 317–18;3 see below). As to the offices of Zhou and the Five Rites, there are the Auspicious [jili 吉禮 rites for the state’s spirit-ancestors], the Inauspicious [xiongli 凶禮 rites for mourning], the Military [junli 軍禮 rites for executions], the Guest [binli 賓禮 rites for visitors], and the Blessing [jiali 嘉禮 rites for weddings].4 But for the type of grandness of the Auspicious Rites, nothing surpasses the sacrifices. Therefore the third of the Eight Institutes in Hongfan is called “Sacrifices.”5 As to the sacrifices, they invoke filial piety in serving the dynasty’s ancestors, and they communicate with the spirit numens. When Han arose, it was after the destruction of learning that occurred under the Qin, and the majority of the gradations of ritual could not be restored to [pristine] antiquity. Through these more than 400 years, going from the Western to the Eastern capitals, gradually things changed. When the Wei inherited the chaos of the end of Han, the old writings were destroyed. The Palace Attendant Wang Can 王粲 (d. 217) and the Master of Writing Wei Ji 衛覬 (fl. 200–240) wrote out the court protocols, and when the princely fiefdom of Jin was established (in 264), Wendi (Sima Zhao) ordered Xun Yi to refer to Wei precedents and compile them as the “New Rites 撰為新禮 .”6 [Xun] studied both modern and ancient [works] and restored concision 參考今古 , 更其節 文 . Yang Hu 羊祜 , Ren Kai 任愷 , Yu Jun 庾峻 , and Ying Zhen 應貞 in


The mention of the court order to compile rites around 317–18, after the move of the dynasty, is at JS 75, p. 1976. Xun Song’s Jinshu biography is at 75, pp. 1975 ff.; he was the great-grandson of Xun Yi’s eldest brother, Yun. Song was noted for literary ability and associated with Wang Dun and Lu Ji. During the turmoil of the 300s he served in military posts especially in the south. In the post-317 period in Jiankang he helped reestablish the Imperial Academy and unsuccessfully argued against reducing the number of commentaries to be used by official students and against establishing only Wang Bi’s commentary to Yijing. Eastern Jin Yuandi did not approve of Xun Song’s idea about maintaining Guliang and Gongyang as well as Zheng Xuan studies. Under Mingdi, though, Song became Inspector of the Imperial Library in the Taining reign (323–25). He died in 329 or 330, at the age of sixty-six (JS 75, p. 1979, and n. 11 on p. 1996). Diao Xie’s biography is at JS 69, pp. 1842 ff. He and Xun Song seem to have moved in parallel through posts in the Masters of Writing. Diao became heavily involved in military affairs resisting Wang Dun, and died in the associated fighting. See his biography in SSHY/Mather, p. 576. 4 My explanatory words in brackets reflect the summary given in SS 6 (“Liyi” A), p. 105; the more complex locus classicus is Zhouli (SSJZS edn.), sect. “Chunguan: dazong bo,” j. 18, pp. 10b ff [274 ff ], on which see Liang Mancang 梁滿倉, Wei Jin Nanbeichao wuli zhidu kaolun 魏晉南北朝五禮制度考論 (Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe, 2009), pp. 127–30. 5 See Bernhard Karlgren, “The Book of Documents,” Bulletin of the Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities 22 (1950), p. 30. 6 No mention of this title is seen in the treatises attached to SS or Jiu Tangshu (see List 1, part 2); below, Zhi Yu also calls what Xun Yi was working on “Wu li 五禮.”

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addition jointly worked to collate and correct,7 and this resulted in 165 pian, which were submitted in a memorial. At the beginning of the Taikang reign (in my opinion approximately 284) the Superviser of the Masters of Writing Zhu Zheng 朱整8 and the Gentleman of the Masters of Writing Zhi Yu discussed [Xun’s “New Rites”]. [Zhi] Yu memorialized about what was appropriate to take out or add: Your minister has read critically the Five Rites 五禮9 compiled by former Grand Commandant Xun Yi. I believe that the magnificent affair of emperors is to transform [institutions] in order to perpetuate rule, and the great duty of the state is to improve the rites. For this reason, officials first delay in memorializing about ritual affairs, but then they seek to hurry them to completion and put them into effect. Because the Mourning Vestments (Sangfu 喪服 )10 are much in doubt it is appropriate to fix them; further, because in today’s ritual code the pian and juan are so highly problematic, we ought to bring things together by categories. For so long now the matter has not been resolved, that I fear I will see my own deathbed [first]. Alas! In general, there have been few changes in the rites for capping, marriage, and all such Auspicious Rites. But the Mourning Vestments are the important tool of any generation, and we should make sure to change any incorrect items in it. …11 All those (disciples of Confucius) were enlightened and knew fully about the rites. They respectfully recited the institutes of Zhou, while taking instruc7

See chap. 2, nn. 29–30, which cite the two places in JS that state the makeup of the team for revising law codes in 264, when Sima Zhao was made Prince of Jin; the men mentioned here in the “Treatise on Rites” as assisting Xun Yi are not that law-code team. Confusion may occur from the overlapping of personnel and areas of learning. Even the early Chinese scholiasts could confuse phrases that used the term lü 律, because it applies to both musicology and law. 8 There is no biography of Zhu; at some point in time he gained the noble title of Guangxing Marquis 廣興侯 . In 287, Zhu gave opinion in court about sumptuary protocols for weddings (JS 21, sect. “Li” C, p. 664). In 288, approximately March, he was appointed as Right Supervisor of the Masters of Writing, but died the next year (JS 3, pp. 78–79). 9 This refers to Xun Yi’s “Xin li,” which built on Wei and Jin scholars’ reforms of earlier Han scholarship and created categories more resonant with the “Five Rites” as laid out in Zhouli (see n. 4, above). 10 The early ritual text “Mourning Vestments” was part of the evolving set of ritual texts that through the Han period was called by different names, but which after the Han was settled as Yili 儀禮, and which had numerous sections (pian) on different topics. Among those, only Sang fu received intense exegetical work and was written about separately, as a free-standing work; see William G. Boltz’s essay on “I li” in Michael Loewe, ed., Early Chinese Texts: A Bibliographical Guide (Berkeley: The Society for the Study of Early China, and Inst. of E. Asian Studies, U. of California, Berkeley, 1993), pp. 234–35. 11 The ellipsis stands for a passage (JS 19, p. 581) about Confucius’ disciples and their approach to mourning rites.


chapter seven tion from Zhongni. They imbibed the sage teachings and debated about them for many many years. But whenever we must deal with the affairs of mourning, we find ourselves still in this [sorry] state. To understand the confusing changes in the rites we must take up the details. Because since that [ancient, Confucian] time the scroll texts have been burned and scattered, and since we are now so far separated from the sage (or “such sages” if we include Confucius’ disciples), it is no wonder that the mourning rituals have taken on errors. It is for this reason that although a single juan of Mourning Vestments doesn’t even occupy one’s open hand, nonetheless the contending opinions are quite various. … …12 The original text of Mourning Vestments is terse and summary, and must depend on commentaries so that the meanings take shape. Today people consider that the different levels of detail in the handed-down explanations were composed by Zixia. Zheng Xuan and Wang Su primarily revered the Classic 經 and after that they honored the Tradition 傳 13 [of Zixia]. But still each brought up differences, and people everywhere thus have been in doubt [about the meanings]; no one has known how to put it into order. Yet Xun Yi wrote strictly concerning the text of the ancient Classic, and he completely eliminated the Zixia Tradition and the commentaries of the early ru scholars. Ritual matters [in this way] cannot be practiced. If they were practiced, then with such mutual contradictions, one against the other, there would be no way to set institutions right. I, your minister, think that at present we must judiciously select from Liji,14 and borrow the discussions in the Tradition to supplement what is not otherwise supplied, and unify the divergent meanings. By using Wang Jinghou’s (Wang Su’s) work titled Changes and Redactions in “Mourning Vestments” 喪服變除 15 as a model to make [these matters] categorical and clear, then we can end the conten-


I leave out Zhi’s detailed comparison (JS 19, p. 581) of Zheng Xuan’s and Wang Su’s interpretations over matters of the levels of family mourning, e.g., cases of stepmothers and infant deaths. 13 The Zhonghua eds. (19, p. 582) marked both words “Jing 經” and “Zhuan 傳 ” as book titles. In the former case they may be reading jing as one of the alternative titles for the Li texts, namely “Lijing 禮經”; but it also may mean simply “the main text”; see also below. Boltz’s essay (“I li,” p. 236) discusses the earlier belief that the “Tradition” (the accepted Rites commentaries) had been written by Zheng Xuan, but how archeological discoveries have thrown that idea into doubt. This passage of Zhi Yu’s memorial would confirm the archeology, since Zhi believed, or his sources showed, that both Zheng and Wang “honored” an extant “Tradition” that accompanied the “Classic.” 14 Here, I am not sure to what exactly Zhi refers by the word “Liji”; most likely he means the complete suite of the various pian that made up Yili. 15 SS 32, pp. 920–21, lists three similarly worded titles, but none is stated as being written by Wang Su.

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tions. After that there will not be two methods in the procedures, and everyone will have the same source [from which to draw]. Further, such a [revised] Rites ought to be published everywhere, and ought not to be burdensome. Xun Yi had made 165 pian; and these pian all went into one juan. All told, it was more than 150,000 words. I still say that even the one juan is too prolix, and it is all very repetitious. For example, for sacrifices made to the mountains and rivers [as found] in the Yaodian of Shangshu, it was only concerning the enumerations of the East Marchmount 東嶽 preparation of sacrificial animals and metal coins that [the classic] set out the required ceremonies. For the rest [of the rituals] it says merely “as before.” Also, in the Zhouli sacrifices to Heaven and Earth, and the Five Di [spirits] partaking with former kings 天地五帝享先王 , when a matter is the same it says “also the same.” The style is concise and the meanings apt. Today rites and ceremonials may be the same [in content] but names can differ. They get separated into pian, and the juan become complex and unregulated. In all such cases we ought to reduce the verbiage, and bring together the items of a kind. When we use categories to bring them together, such items will be distinguishable. Only thus may we arrange different [things] into [their] groups. If we do this, we can reduce [Xun Yi’s work] by a third. Zhi Yu finished his critical review of [Xun Yi’s] “New Rites” and sent it to the throne in the first year of the Yuankang reign (291). Included was his presentation of the matters concerning the Mingtang 明堂 and Five Di, the two altars and six lineage heads, the system for determining auspicious and inauspicious [calendar days] for the princes. In total it was fifteen pian. An edict was issued approving of its opinions. Later, Zhi Yu and Fu Xian 傅咸 (d. 294) continued to work on the project. In the end they did not complete it. The Central Plain was thrown into disaster, and the only remains of their work is Zhi’s “Jueyi zhu” 決疑注 .16 In Eastern Jin times, the Superintendent Diao Xie, and the Grand Master 16

This title is quoted in a Tang commentary to Shiji, p. 3035; but no reference is seen in SS; see also Liao Jilang 廖吉郎, Liang Jin shibu yiji kao 兩晉史部遺籍考 (Taipei: Jiaxin shuini, 1970), p. 213. Zhi’s opinions on the Mingtang and Five Di are discussed by Chen Shuguo 陳戍國, Zhongguo lizhi shi (Wei Jin Nanbeichao juan) 中國 禮制史 (魏晉南北朝卷) (Changsha: Hunan jiaoyu chubanshe, 2002), pp. 114–16. Zhi Yu also made a case to the court about the importance of genealogies, arguing that people had become unable to establish their ancestries after the disruptions of the end of Han; thus he compiled a work in ten juan called “Zuxing zhaomu” 族姓昭穆 (or, “Patriarchal Zhao-Mu Lineages,” a term indicating the two ancestral lineages in the ancestral temples of Zhou times, with one lineage called mu and the other zhao, after the names of Wenwang and Wuwang; see Hou Xudong, “Rethinking Chinese Kinship in the Han and the Six Dynasties: A Preliminary Observation,” AM 23.1 [2010], forthcoming). In SS’s bibliographic treatise Zhi’s “Zu xing zhaomu” is not listed per se, but is discussed in passing (SS 33, “Jingji zhi” B, p. 990, corroborating that it was in 10 juan, and claiming that it was very popular in the period 480–556).


chapter seven of Ceremonies Xun Song made additional editing to the original text [of “Jueyi zhu”], and Cai Mo 蔡謨 further worked on it, and so forth.

The above constitutes valuable information about the level of attention that the Western Jin court devoted to the Rites. First, Xun Yi had been commissioned to make a “New Rites” in the mid-260s, and then, in a time of new factions and agendas after the Wu War, and with the Xuns’ reputation declining, Zhi Yu was given the task to review the whole matter. Zhi first memorialized in 284 or thereabouts, a date that I deduce despite Zhu Zheng’s being made Right Supervisor of the Masters of Writing in 288.17 Zhi seems to have merely begun to examine the “New Rites” of Xun Yi just at the time of his memorial and then told the court what he thought of it and what his plan would be to change it. He proceeded to work according to the plan, and we saw, above, that he finished at least a major part in 291. His work did not stop even then, since he worked with Fu Xian until sometime before Fu’s death in 294. Thus Zhi Yu spent as much as nine or ten years revising Xun Yi’s “New Rites.” Subsequently, a descendant of Xun Xu and Xun Yi named Xun Song worked on Zhi Yu’s revisions as late as about 318. If I am correct about the year 284, give or take a year, then Xun Xu was still in office as inspector of both the historiography-oriented bureaus and was probably, according to the timing that I have worked out in Chapter Six, still working on the difficult transcription of the Bamboo Annals. Zhang Hua was in exile, but Zhang’s indirect protege He Qiao had already been made Prefect of the Palace Writers and had made public his dislike of Xun Xu. He Qiao may also have been working on his own Annals transcription. Xun Xu no doubt felt the sting of Zhi Yu’s denunciation to the court of Xun Yi’s scholarship. Such a critique may have seemed to Xun as a wedge—a potentially volatile new dispute that could cause already lingering doubts about Xun Xu’s projects to tip toward larger condemnations and factionalism. A particular feature of Zhi Yu’s criticism of Xun Yi was to point out that Xun Yi had ignored not just the comments of the great Confucian disciples and those of Zheng Xuan of Eastern Han, but that he had ignored the most valuable Sangfu commentary of them all, the one written by Wei-era Wang Su. This is crucial because of our general lack of evidence for the anti-Xun campaign. How do we know that contempo17

We must weigh carefully how and when we choose a text’s retrospective use of official titles; Zhu’s appointment as “right” supervisor may have come some years after his being merely “supervisor”; or it may be an anachronistic mention of that title.

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rary scholars attacked Xun Xu’s specific agenda? One reason is that Zhi seems interested in bringing Wei-era scholarship back into the fold of the scholarly community. In turn this negated the anti-Wei, and implicitly anti-Cao, ideology of the Xun family. In fact, the “Wuli” style of organization of the Rites, being shaped for the first time in Western Jin chiefly through Xun Yi’s work, represented a firming up of the Zhouli system. Therefore, we can speculate that a prisca Zhou framework may have undergirded Xun Yi’s work even before Xun Xu’s. This offers yet another field in which Yi may have taught or influenced the younger Xu, as well as providing a way to analyze Zhi Yu’s statements. Finally, the Jia–Xun leader Jia Chong had died on May 19, 282, and his death caused a ritual furor about patrilineal inheritance that was probably still being discussed when Zhi wrote his opinions of Xun Yi’s “New Rites.” Lady Jia Nanfeng’s mother had got her way in the matter of who should be Jia Chong’s legal heir, and thus an attack on the ritual scholarship of a Xun would be an attack on Nanfeng’s (and the emperor’s) dispensation of Jia’s estate.18 This is a richer picture of Zhi Yu’s scholarly work than has emerged in previous literature. We already learned in Chapter Six that his teacher Huangfu Mi was interested in ancient texts and in using them to build chronologies of the rulers of primordial antiquity. For scholars of the Western Jin, our modern discussions of “legend” would not have had much resonance. For already a hundred years “ancient text” and “new text” scholars alike, and especially Zheng Xuan, were blurring the distinction between historical documents reliably considered as products of real historical figures and documents that seemed to emerge anonymously in revelatory and quasi-religious contexts. The latter type may have seemed not just “mysterious” but deeply ancient. As a result it was not always clear if any writing that contained comments on or compilations of genealogies, calendars, or naturalhistorical cycles pertaining to deep antiquity lay beyond mundane historiography and thus meant to inspire mere moderns toward reverence or contemplation, or, on the other hand, if such a writing was a contribution to actual “ancient history” in the manner of Sima Qian. Huangfu Mi had been one of those who tried to rebuild deep antiquity through reconstructed genealogies. He died in 282, just at the 18

See Hou, “Rethinking Chinese Kinship,” esp. notes 92–98. For Jia’s death date, see JS 3, p. 73. My discussion of Zhi’s attack on Xun Yi reveals actual intellectual reasons for Zhi’s promotion of Wang Su; cf. the purely ad hominem reason of Wang Su’s family ties with Jin Wudi, as suggested by Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, p. 46.


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point that Xun Xu’s team in the Imperial Library were beginning their transcription of the fourth-century bc texts that were changing men’s understanding of ancient chronology. He cannot have had knowledge of their work, and in the same way we cannot know if he might have perceived of his own Diwang shiji 帝王世紀 as correctable or consonant with the post-Ji Tomb historiography. Huangfu’s student Zhi Yu carried this forward as a generalist sort of antiquarian. The last section of Chapter Six discussed Zhi’s notion that scholars should venerate the three primary “ancient” methods of numerate measure so as to maintain the ancient frameworks for astronomy, harmonics, and medicine. Zhi seems not to have had any expertise in skills like those: his interest in them would have come from the breadth of learning exhibited by Zhang Hua’s ambit generally. From out of that broad ambit, and with intellectual links to Zhi Yu and Shu Xi, there emerges another scholar concerned with historiography and with Ji Tomb studies. This was Wang Jie, who left no historical mark other than the facts given in a short biography in Jinshu.19 His ample oeuvre, in numerous genres of prose and verse, was not collected or passed on as far as we know, and his works were said to have disappeared in the disasters at the end of Western Jin. Despite this gap, we know several important things: first is that his scholarship focused on Ji Tomb studies and criticism in the period 290–300 and shows that he had contact with several scholars related to such; and second, Wang reflects the kind of historiographic thinking about the role of commentaries that we just saw in the case of Zhi Yu. Wang was from a family of historians and he himself was expert in the ancient Chunqiu commentaries Zuozhuan and Gongyang. His father Wang Wei 王蔚 was interested in historical studies; and this seems to have been passed down to his son, who was orphaned however at the age of twelve, or, around 279. Jie was highly touted after a test on the classics was administered to a large field of young candidates. He was known to be skilled in reading texts for the errors they contained, and he remained aloof from local society until finally noticed by Pei Wei 裴頠 (267–300); then he received a post in the capital. It seems safe to assume that the following cannot be the remark of a young scholar; I think that it must have been spoken when Wang Jie was at least twenty-five years of age, thus perhaps sometime after about 19

All descriptions of Wang and related quotations are from his biography, JS 51, pp. 1434–36.

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290 or 295. There is no surrounding context, and it appears the Jinshu editors were summarizing a now nonextant source: Although broadly read, Wang Jie specialized in the Rites and the [Zuo-] zhuan (or possibly, “Rites and their commentaries”). He once said that Mr. Zuo’s words and meanings were replete. [But], in and of themselves they are the records of a specific pedagogical group 一家書 , and are not a chief element stemming from the classic. The Gongyang establishes a teaching text by being an added attachment to the classic. If the classic does not record something, then the [Gongyang] teaching text would not approach it mindlessly. It is limited as to literary content, but is fruitful as a tool to understanding the classic.

The above seems to be a slight warning about Zuozhuan—that it is filled with anecdotes but must always be viewed as a record of how a community of Chunqiu scholars over centuries filled out the lean classic, but that its text is not to be taken as a continuation of the meanings of the classic itself. On the other hand, Gongyang reflects the main text of the classic relatively more gently, by adding on where appropriate yet staying separate. Wang Jie, having perceived problems with He Xiu’s 何休 (129–182) commentary to Gongyang, wrote a new commentary with many new interpretations. The Jinshu biography of Wang Jie at this point moves on to another subject: At the time, the Library Assistant Wei Heng was examining and correcting the Ji Tomb documents.20 He had not finished, but met with his end. The Left Gentleman Drafter Shu Xi completed the writing of it. In many cases [Wei] had documented different meanings. At that time a certain Wang Tingjian 王庭堅 raised objections to [Shu’s work], and had evidential authorities. Shu Xi could solve [Wang Tingjian’s] objections, but Tingjian had just died. The Gentleman Cavalier Attendant Pan Tao 潘滔 (d. 311)21 said to Wang Jie: “You are a talented scholar and are logical in your points. You are able to solve the differences between the two men, and might set out an examination of them in a discourse.” Jie subsequently gave the details of the correct and incorrect points [in Shu’s and Wang Tingjian’s works]. Zhi Yu, Xie Heng 謝衡, and others were well familiar with the matters, and all considered Wang Jie’s review fair.

Of Wang Jie’s numerous works listed at the end of his biography, it was perhaps the one titled “Bonan 駁難 (“Critical Objections”) in over 20

If JS is using Wei’s official title correctly, then the year had to be 291, which was when Wei was appointed, only to be killed shortly thereafter. The first four sentences here were given in chap. 6, sect. “The Zhang Hua Ambit.” 21 Pan was related to Pan Ni and Pan Yue; he was a military adviser to the Sima heirapparent in the early 300s and was killed in the sack of Luoyang.


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100,000 words that decided Shu Xi’s and Wang Tingjian’s Ji Tomb dispute. We might think of Wang Jie as on the outer ring of Zhi’s world of associates: probably he was not one of those young scholars who came to Zhang Hua’s attention in order to receive mentoring and recommendations. Wang’s biography describes him as aloof from the surrounding social world. But Wang Jie brings us also to another denizen of the outer ring, Wang Tingjian, for whom we have not even one biographical clue.22 All of this shows us how deeply Ji Tomb studies had penetrated circles of scholars who had communications among each other. It shows also that methods and philosophies of historiography were being discussed, and could supplement scholars’ exacting work on paleography and philology. Zhi Yu’s position on the role of commentarial writing was accommodating and modern: a broad appeal was made to scholars that they study the great commentaries of old and the critical editors of modern times as deeply as they study the “main text 經 .” They should not be like Xun Yi. Zhi wanted scholars not to block out a modern commentary just because it might be antiZheng Xuan or because it might be from the Wei court. Wang Jie, for his part, supported Gongyang studies by warning about over-reliance on Zuozhuan, that is the treatment of it as if it were naturally imbedded in the classic. Xun Xu in a Time of Anti-Xunism Along with Zhi Yu’s intricate attack on Xun scholarship, there were still problems for Xun Xu that stemmed from an early aspect of the Jia–Xun faction. Unlike their anti-Wu War agenda, the faction’s support of heir-apparent Sima Zhong had not ceased to be relevant. If we can date a certain anecdote in Xun Xu’s Jinshu biography to around 283, then the figures in it, Xun and He Qiao, are in the politically uncomfortable position as the Palace Writers leadership duo (the inspector and the prefect), with Zhang Hua still banished from Luoyang. Drawing on older texts, Jinshu says that at about the time when Xun Xu appointed Chen Xie to be Commissioner of Waterways to manage post-flood repairs in 283, Xun Xu was called upon by the emperor to look into the domestic and personal situation of Sima Zhong. With Jia Chong’s death, the throne hoped to strengthen the heir’s overall 22

On Wang Tingjian’s Ji Tomb studies, see also Edward L. Shaughnessy, Rewriting Early Chinese Texts (Albany: SUNY, 2006), pp. 151–52.

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position and forestall any external attempt to seat Sima You. Just as had occurred ten years previously when the emperor called on Xun Xu and his cousin Xun Yi, now the emperor called on Xun and He Qiao to observe the heir. At the time (ca. 282–83),23 the emperor clearly knew about the heir-apparent’s shallow and dissolute [behavior]. He feared that he might later subvert the nation. He sent Xun Xu and He Qiao to go observe him. Xun returned to crow about the heir-apparent’s virtues, but He said that the heir-apparent remained as usual. 24 Because of this, everyone honored He and demeaned Xun. The emperor was about to dismiss the consort Jia, and did not do so after Xu and Feng Dan 馮紞 , with others, pleaded the case against it. People of the time discussed how Xun Xu could topple a state and harm the times—that he was of the same ilk as Sun Zi 孫資 and Liu Fang 劉放 .

Dating this to late in 282, or in 283, is helped by a pre-Tang source of the anecdote that calls He Qiao a “Palace Attendant 侍中 .”25 We know from Table 5 (Chapter Six) that He was given that title in about 281, and because of the nature of these offices may actually have been called either Palace Attendant or Prefect of Palace Writers even after he became the prefect in 282. One wonders if by late in 282, the attacks upon Xun Xu’s and the late Xun Yi’s scholarship had given confidence to those who wanted to hound Xun Xu out of office for his vouching for Sima Zhong, and having thus facilitated Jia Nanfeng’s rise. The use of the names “Sun Zi” and “Liu Fang” in fact would have been particularly harsh criticism. 23

JS 39, p. 1157; ZZTJ 81, p. 2581, dates it to about summer of 282. Another version is in He’s biography (JS 45, p. 1283): “[Sometime after the war against Wu] Qiao would visit the heir-apparent without being commanded. He used that relationship to tell the emperor, ‘The imperial heir-apparent has the attitude of real purity, but because lately there are so many in society who are fakers (i.e., Xun Xu), I fear that the heir-apparent will not be able to execute your highness’ family affairs.’ The emperor was gloomy about that and did not answer. ... (Here the biography is muddled, placing the long-dead Xun Yi into the incident.) [Despite Xun Xu’s praise of the heirapparent] Qiao said, ‘The imperial make-up is as it always was.’ The emperor was not pleased and rose to leave. Qiao went back home, feeling disillusioned and frustrated, knowing that he would not be used anymore, and unable to get over that feeling.” The compilers of He Qiao’s biography may have used Gan Bao’s and Sun Sheng’s writings on Jin history; Gan placed Xun Yi in the affair, but Sun claimed that Xun Yi should be Xun Xu; see SSXYJJ no. 5.9, p. 225; SSHY/Mather, pp. 151–52. Pei Songzhi remarked about this problem as well, suggesting that the other Xun was Xun Kai 愷 (see Figure 1, Jin II), arguing that the latter’s career was more advanced than Xu’s. Pei was wrong about that: he may have read texts that graphically confused 愷, 煇, and 惲 ; see SGZ 10, pp. 320–21, note 4 (see also Figure 1, note 9). 25 See SSXYJJ no. 5.9, p. 225, quoting Gan Bao, Jin ji. 24


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In Chapter Four (the section “Problems in the Bureaucratic Structure of the Palace Writers Office”) we learned about the career-fashioning of those two men who had served the Caos; they had gained Cao Cao’s trust and then emerged under Cao Pi as the Palace Writers leaders who handled internal policy and memos. I speculated that Cao Pi’s shifting them out of the Imperial Library into the Palace Writers was an attempt to break their links to the Library and the power gained from twenty years of dealings under Cao Cao. They were talented men, and in some ways in the 280s could easily inspire comparisons with Xun Xu. When aiding Wei Mingdi’s military effort to thwart Wu’s plan to ally with Gongsun Yuan, Liu Fang had used calligraphic forgery and edict redaction to plant disinformation among the Wu leadership. As Mingdi lay dying in 239, Liu and Sun carefully manipulated the emperor’s decision and edicts so as to ensure Cao Shuang’s obtaining the position of regent over another Cao heir.26 The relevance to Western Jin is clear— factionalism, spurious redactions of documents, succession politics. The eleventh-century historian Sima Guang 司馬光 devoted an entire aside for the year 238 to reflect on the way Liu and Sun had taken years to shape institutions to their advantage, and on their twinned careers. Following that, he devoted long narratives relating the warnings of respected Wei advisers about the duo.27 Probably their greatest notoriety had been in permitting Cao Shuang’s rise, after which both men received rewards and lived out their lives peacefully. Were officials in the 280s imagining the wealth and titles that Xun Xu and, for example, Feng Dan would accrue after being rewarded by Sima Zhong’s consort Jia Nanfeng? We also must wonder whether the Jinshu’s saying that people talked of Xun as “of the same ilk as Sun Zi and Liu Fang” reflects actual evidence, or if the Tang editors were indulging their imagination about Western Jin gossip in order to warn about the nature of court power. Whether documented or not, Jinshu goes deeper yet into men’s intimate views to bring out the darkness that it sees as having tainted the great Jin official Xun Xu: [Xun] was secretive by nature. Whenever there was an edict with instructions about an important state affair, although it had already been announced, still, till the last moment he would not discuss it, not wanting to give people cause to understand what he himself had gained in26 27

See SGZ 14, p. 457, 459; also TCTC/Fang 1, pp. 607–8, 611–12. See TCTC/Fang 1, pp. 581–83, translating ZZTJ, j. 74.

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formation about. His cousin Xun Liang 良 once came to confront Xun Xu and said, “You, sir, just don’t get it. If it can benefit you to speak up [about affairs], why not? As a result, you will court favor.” His sonin-law Wu Tong 武統 also told Xu: “You ought to manage affairs, and then you will have your group [again].” Xu in both cases just remained silent and did not respond. He went back [to his home] and spoke with his numerous sons: “As servitors, we must be secretive lest we lose our lives; [but] if we cultivate personal interests, that would be going against public (that is, the court’s) interests. It is a great lesson. You all, like me, will enter service and get to be among men. You ought to remember me by this idea.”

Here, if the Tang editors were setting Xun Xu up for condemnation, they were at least being rather gentle, just as they were in the Jinshu encomium about the two Xuns translated at the end of Chapter Two. Xun is shown as disturbingly committed to intrigue, but on the other hand he is humanly pathetic, and at the end of his lesson to his sons even contemplative and judicious. Ultimately, the Tang editors might merely have wanted us to sense what a high official felt in his heart when his career was deflating. Assessments in 28 6 of hua qiao’s History of l ater han Another important historian to have worked, as had Sima Biao, on a history of Later Han was Hua Qiao—introduced in Chapter Six. During this time of a downturn in Xun Xu’s career, Hua completed his history, and arranged to have the most important courtiers review it, among whom was Xun. Although Hua Qiao’s Jinshu biography has chronological problems, it seems that his learning flourished and received institutional backing especially when Jin Huidi came to the throne in 290, and no doubt also through the offices of Zhang Hua. He is said to have assiduously “written up documents and compiled facts with the aim of becoming an excellent historian.”28 His elder brother Hua Yi 華廙 (d. ca. 291–92) had been a talented scholar as well, and wrote a work titled “Shan wen” 善文 , which “gathered up the important points in the classics”; such a work may have been a commonplace book, or anthology. Yi was made Inspector of the Palace Writers for about two or three years before his death, and his partner, namely the prefect, was He Shao, well known to the Xuns as the biographer of their infamous kin Xun 28

JS 44, p. 1264.


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Can (see Chapter One, “Xun Can, a Prototype of the Zhengshi-Era Mavericks”).29 Hua Qiao’s own historiographical appointment was as Inspector of the Imperial Library in 291. He was the first to take it over since Xun Xu’s removal in 287 and since Huidi reinstituted the Library as an independent entity earlier in 291. Hua Qiao is said to have taken over duties concerned with Huidi’s rites, music harmonics, and astronomy and computative prognostics 治禮 , 音律 , 天文數術 .30 We can date the following, from Jinshu, to 286. It is an explanation of Hua Qiao’s History of the Later Han:31 Originally, Qiao thought that the [Dongguan 東觀 ] Hanji 漢記 was a muddled mess, and so intended to correct it. Because he happened to be in the inner offices and managed the affairs of the compiler-officials, he got to see sequestered documents from all holdings. He then took up the task of ordering them. They ranged from Guangwu [-di] and ended with Xiaoxian (Xiandi), thus 195 years. He made emperors’ chronicles in 20 juan and empresses’ in 2. The dian 典 (institutes, or treatises) were 10, biographies 70; also he had 3 juan of tables, a postface, and contents list. Altogether these were 97 juan. He believed that the empresses were to be [ritually] matched with heaven to make partnerships, something earlier histories did not understand, since they placed them in the category of distaff relatives, coming as continuations in the last sections [of those]. [Hua] changed this to have annals of empresses follow the imperial annals. He also changed “treatises” to “institutes,” following the model of the “institutes of Yao” (in Shangshu). Having done this he changed the name into “Han Hou shu” (often titled “Hou Han shu”) and presented it in a memorial; an edict came down ordering the court to discuss it. At the time, Inspector of Palace Writers Xun Xu, Prefect of Palace Writers He Qiao, Grand Master of Ceremonies Zhang Hua, and Palace Server Wang Ji 王濟 all thought that Qiao’s manner of composition was fine and his [sketch of ] events concise, being in the mold of Sima Qian and Ban Gu and carrying the style of Basic Annals. His work was sent for keeping in the Library offices. Later, the Grand Commandant Wang Liang 王亮 of Runan and the Minister of Works Wei Guan were aids to the heir-apparent in the Eastern Palace, and they proffered a thorough discussion of [Hua’s work] section by section, so that after this episode [Hua’s work] became widely known. 29

JS 44, p. 1261. JS 44, p. 1264; the Zhonghua edition’s “Jiaokan ji,” n. 2, says that this was not “music” but “law 考律,” a familiar emendation from confusion; in fact Hua’s being a master of harmonics (yinlü) complements the computative skills implied by “tianwen shushu.” 31 JS 44, p. 1264. I have tried to rerationalize the tangled chronology of Hua Qiao’s career. The year “286” is supported by Liu/Biannian, p. 147. Hua tried to decline appointment as Inspector in a show of humility; see Howard L. Goodman, “Chinese Polymaths, 100–300 ad: The Tung-kuan, Taoist Dissenters, and Technical Skills,” AM 18.1 (2005), p. 144, n. 124. 30

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This is useful information about the Western Jin court’s “review process,” and about career self-fashioning and the role of archives in maintaining historiographical research. In Hua Qiao’s work we see technical ideas about historiographical formats, though not at the synthetic level of Zhi Yu concerning commentaries, above. He saw himself as a corrector of a famous Eastern Han project, and besides merely changing names of sections and reordering them, he is known to have smoothed out phraseology, winning a good mention in that regard by Liu Zhiji 劉知幾 (661–721).32 At this particular moment in Western Jin, it is surprising that at court Xun, He, and Zhang were gathered together (if they in fact discussed Hua Qiao’s work face to face). These three were the core of Ji Tomb antagonism, and in 286 there may have been palpable enmity in the room. Xun’s participation, however, may have been merely perfunctory at a time when his stature was at its nadir and his projects stalled. In any event Hua Qiao was praised, yet he was troubled by over-drinking, and the sources suggest that this is what prevented him from completing the “institutes.”33 Xun xu’s demotion and demise Soon after, in 287, Xun was suddenly made Prefect of the Masters of Writing 尚書令 . For the late-Han through Western Jin, it is difficult to chart with certainty the vertical hierarchies and promotion tracks of the state offices, especially given the changes in structure. During much of Han, the Masters of Writing, or Secretariat, had been where eunuch cadres could develop power and influence. Eunuch domination ended in 189, and in the 220-40s, beginning in Wei Wendi’s reign (Cao Pi), the two leaders of the Palace Writers surpassed the office of Masters of Writing in influence. In Xun Xu’s time, Prefect of the Mas32

“The words and phrases of Hua Qiao are plain and direct, his discourse elegant. In considering style: wouldn’t he be second [only] to [Ban] Mengjian? 嶠言辭簡質, 叙致 温雅 , 味其宗旨, 亦孟堅之亞歟”; Shitong tongshi 史通通釋 ,“Xuli 敘例” 10 (Hong Kong: Taiping shuju, 1964); also ibid. at 12 (waipian), “Gujin zhengshi 2,” p. 27, Liu Zhiji uses “pian” not “juan” to describe the divisions in Hua’s work and some of the number totals differ from the ones given in JS. Hua’s contribution to Han historiography is reviewed in Song Zhiying 宋志英, “Hua Qiao Hou Han shu kaoshu” 華嶠後漢書考述, Shixueshi yanjiu 史學史研究 104.4 (2001), pp. 26–31. 33 On the attempt by Hua’s sons to finish his work, see B. J. Mansfelt Beck, The Treatises of Later Han: Their Author, Sources, Contents and Place in Chinese Historiography (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1990), p. 51.


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ters of Writing was at a roughly equivalent grade with the Prefect of the Palace Writers. It was, thus, not any kind of grand promotion for Xun Xu. By 287, real power for Xun meant having the means and imperial support for his projects: cataloging the Library’s collection including the Ji Tomb texts, transcribing and editing the Ji Tomb texts, and, based on small evidences discussed in Chapter Four, the creation of a bell set to further his previous achievements in harmonics. These he could do within the Palace Writers and the Imperial Library. Xun’s Jinshu biography reads:34 Xun Xu had been in the Palace Writers for a long time, and in control of affairs. When he lost that position, he was very depressed. Some men came to congratulate him, and Xu said “They’ve stolen my Phoenix Pool,35 and you gentlemen come to congratulate me!” At the [office of the] Masters of Writing, he tested officials from the Foreman Clerk on down, examining their abilities. And when there was someone who was benighted about codes and procedures and unable to determine what was needed in taking charge of affairs, such men would be drummed out on the spot. The emperor told [Xun]: “Wei Wudi (Cao Cao) said, ‘Xun Wenruo’s 荀文若 (Xun Yu’s 彧 ) way of advancing what was excellent was that if he could not advance it, he [still] did not cease acting. Xun Gongda’s 荀公達 (Xun You’s 攸 ) way of pushing back displeasing things was that if he could not push them back, he [still] did not rest.’ [Both] these gentlemen’s special quality is seen in you, sir.”36 Xun was in this position for over a month, and then offered up his seals and insignia of office because of his mother’s death. The emperor would not permit it, and sent the Regular Attendant Zhou Hui 周恢 to explain his points. Thereupon, Xun took up the order and appeared in office. … Xun Xu died in 289 [December 29].37 An [imperial] edict [posthumously] conferred upon him the title Minister over the Masses and granted special objects from the Eastern Garden, one set of court burial costume, 500,000 cash, and 100 bolts of silk. [The throne] dispatched a secretary to direct the services and lead the mourning. [Xun Xu] was given the temple name Cheng 成 . Xu had ten sons, among whom the most accomplished were Ji 輯 , Fan 藩 , and Zu 組 . 34

JS 39, p. 1157. During the Tang, the Phoenix Pool was a part of the resplendent architecture of the inner Imperial City; see TD 21, p. 561. It also could refer to the position of Grand Councilor, because the latter was also known as jointly managing affairs with the Secretariat-Chancellery; moreover, it was a synonym for the gardens of high officials at their metropolitan mansions. 36 See comments about the earliest use of this Cao Cao quip, in chap. 1, n. 54. 37 See JS 3, p. 79, for the specific date as 11th mo., bingchen day; also ZZTJ 82, p. 2594. 35

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Sometime in the 290s, Xun Fan (245–313), Xu’s third son, was ordered by the Jin court to complete his father’s work to restore bells and sounding-stones. As recorded in the sources, it is the only information that we have pointing to the fact that Xun Xu had even begun to think about creating a full set of bells—a major undertaking. It is easy to see how that project was delayed by the Ji Tomb finds, and then derailed after 285; and it is quite unfortunate that there is no more evidence about this, even the fact of who at court wanted Xun Xu’s son to take up the project, after years of anti-Xun sentiments. A passage from Jinshu’s “Treatise on Music” that we examined in Chapter Four bears repeating: Once having devised the new pitch-standard, [Xun] Xu created two choreographies, and proceeding from there he [planned to] restore correct bells and sounding-stones. But at that time he passed away without having finished his project. In 302 the court ordered his son Fan to fix up and set the metal and stone instruments for use in the suburban sacrificial temples. But shortly thereafter came the general chaos [of the fall of Luoyang], and in the end there was no one to record [the details] of the project.38

It would seem, then, that at the end of his life Xun Xu wanted to improve upon Du Kui’s 杜夔 Wei-court bells. Chapter Five constructed a narrative of the process by which Xun deduced that Du’s bells, or at least Du’s pitch-regulator tubes, were incorrect. I believe that the fact that Xun Xu started late on making a bell-chime supports Li Chunfeng’s claim that bells and stones had been discovered in the Ji Tomb and tested positively against Xun’s devices, even though the evidence he adduced was vague.39 Xun would not have had sufficient time and personnel to examine Ji Tomb bells because of energies being given toward text transcriptions. Thus, mention of testing the Ji Tomb bells probably points to metric and sonic measurements conducted by Fan or others after 289. Xun Fan’s son Sui 邃 was also said to have been an expert in music harmonics 解音樂 . But there is no evidence that he undertook any project. We learn from an item in Songshu 宋書 that in the 430s research and computation for correcting the flutes were revived under the auspices of Prefect Imperial Grand Music Master Zhong Zongzhi 鍾宗之 , 38

JS 22, “Yue zhi” A, p. 693; cf. Xun’s biog., 39, p. 1158, which states specifically that Fan was ordered to complete work on “bells” and “sounding-stones.” 39 See chap. 4, sect. “Li Chunfeng’s Antiquarian Jury”; none of the sources datable to the 280s-90s mentions any such items from the Ji Tomb.


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and a bit later under Xi Zong 奚縱 . Both those scholars reduced the lengths of Xun Xu’s Huangzhong, Taicu, Guxian, and Ruibin pitchregulators.40 Thus through time the problems of pitch-standards and pitch-regulation marched ahead, but it was not a random process. For, living in the 430s and contributing vastly to the documentary record of Xun Xu’s and others’ work in harmonics, was the mathematician He Chengtian. He was just finishing his treatise on harmonics that smoothed out and ordered the details of Xun Xu’s entire project and transcribed Xun’s long deposition of Lie He. The post-xun xu resumption of the debate about where to begin the jin dynast y When we consider the distinct time frames into which I have unfolded the life of Xun Xu, it is easy to see that besides court rewards or Wu booty, after 280 the “New Day” was all about the archeological discovery in Ji. There is a certain irony attached to the intensity of interest in historiography, since, from our own point of view or if we had been alive at that time, we would expect to see an industry rise up that focused on the other Ji Tomb bamboo-slip texts, ones that seem to have gone unremarked in Western Jin times. The tomb’s ancient-script Yijing had been proclaimed as in very good shape by Du Yu; and further, there were Yijing divination guides, a Guicang-like alternative Yi, sections of “Speeches of Chu” and “Speeches of Jin” as parts of a Guoyu, a text similar to parts of Liji, parts of an ancient record of anecdotes from Zhou, and even an ancient ritual calendar purportedly by Zou Yan 鄒衍 .41 Either scholars just did not consider any text that was too disarrayed to be worth analysis, or they were not as interested in Yijing and divination guides as they were in chronology. One has to assume that the bamboo slips concerning rites were very damaged, since Rites Classics (variously named) were of keen interest at this time. In general, historiographical work in Jin-era China (and even today) consisted of puzzles about the meanings contained in actual surviving documents, about damaged links in chronology, revelations about facts and episodes of antiquity, and last but not least, method itself—its implications for politics and local identities, such as the Jin40

SgS 11 (“Yue zhi” A), p. 219. These are titles of Ji Tomb works as described by Shu Xi; Shaughnessy, Rewriting, pp. 153–84. 41

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to-Wei transition in the 400s bc. In Chapter Six, in the section “Xun Xu and Zhang Hua as Forces in the Jin Offices for Historiography,” we saw how, in simple terms, Xun Xu had forged ahead with a pat agenda that did not address such concerns, whereas after about 282, during Jin’s Period Two of Bureaucratic Historiography and Archives, Zhang Hua and his proteges took on several of them, especially as a direct outcome of their Ji Tomb scholarship, particularly the reevaluation of Shiji. When Xun Xu himself was drawn into debates over chronology and method, he disagreed with two from his Library staff—He Qiao and Wang/Fu Zan. This section takes up yet another offshoot of the larger Zhang Hua ambit, namely Zhang’s protege Jia Mi 賈謐 (d. 300) and Jia’s own circle. Born around the years 268–70 and surnamed Han 韓 , he was the son of a certain Han Shou 韓壽 who had married the first daughter of Jia Chong. In 284 Jia Chong’s third wife Guo Huai 郭槐 , the mother of the Empress Jia Nanfeng, insisted at court that né Han Mi be shifted over to the lineage of Jia Chong’s deceased first son and thus become Jia Chong’s legal, posthumous heir. This was a highly controversial proposal since it mingled the collateral with the patriarchal branches of the family, and it met with extreme opposition. In the end, it was agreed to by the emperor himself. Now named Jia Mi, the young man achieved power after about 296, when Guo Huai died, and his maternal step-aunt Jia Nanfeng was already empress of the realm.42 In 296 or soon afterward, Jia Mi was appointed as Inspector of the Library, specifically assigned to head up the writing of the “National History 國史 ” (see Chapter Six, Table 5).43 This was arranged in great part by Zhang Hua, who had been Inspector of Palace Writers from 291 to about 296 (also Table 5), in which year he was promoted 42

All facts about Jia Mi, his blood father, and his maternal relatives are at JS 40 (biography of Jia Chong), pp. 1170–74. I have deduced the approximate birth year of Jia Mi based on facts in the life of his father Han Shou, assuming a normal life-span for the latter. The life of Guo is thoroughly analyzed and a discovered epitaph dedicated to her translated in Timothy M. Davis, “Potent Stone: Entombed Epigraphy and Memorial Culture in Early Medieval China,” Ph.D. diss. (New York: Columbia University, 2008), chap. 4, part 1. The controversy over Han/Jia Mi’s becoming Jia Chong’s heir is discussed in the context of the history of zongzu 宗族 (patrilineal descent group) as both concept and reality in early-medieval China in Hou, “Rethinking Chinese Kinship.” 43 The JS biography of Jia Mi, JS 40, p. 1173, does not give an exact year of death for Guo, but her entombed epitaph does (see Davis, as cited in previous n.), namely 296 ad (no month or day stated). JS clearly states, however, that it was “after [Guo’s] death that Jia quit office [for mourning], and then before that was finished, he rose to become the Inspector of the Imperial Library, taking charge of the National History.”


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to Minister of Works (sikong). After 296, however, Zhang’s day-today influence and control over such historiographical and literary appointments seems to have abated, and there was not even an Inspector of the Palace Writers for the years 296–99. Zhang’s shift of focus occurred because in 296 he became embroiled in controversy and political struggles that would bring about his death. First of all, he resisted the peremptory assignment of Sima Lun 司馬倫 (277–301) into the Masters of Writing offices after Sima Lun and his entourage returned to Luoyang and insinuated themselves into the running of the empire. By 298–99, Zhang was also involved in the succession crisis created by the empress, and ended up in the middle of a triangle made up of the then heir-apparent, Empress Jia, and Sima Lun. He did not survive and was put to death in 300, upon the fall of the empress.44 Thus Jia’s coming into his own as head of the National History seems to indicate that he was helping Zhang to organize historiography, and to assign relevant tasks to men like Lu Ji 陸機 , Shu Xi, and Zuo Si. (Table 5 indicates those appointments as having been under the guidance or influence of Zhang Hua; but more essentially it shows the growth of Zhang’s general sphere as it took in other ones, like Jia Mi’s.) Literary specialists have discussed Jia Mi’s rise, and the circle of scholars whom he patronized known as the “Twenty-four Friends 二十 四右 .” Despite premodern Chinese scholarship that dated the principal activities of the Friends to 291, it is now clear that they began with Jia’s celebrating the return of Lu Ji to Luoyang in about 296 and the appointment of Lu as Intendant (or Manager of ) Gentlemen of the Palace (see Table 5).45 As discussed just above, it was in 296 or 297 that Jia Mi finished mourning for Guo Huai and received his Library post and history-writing task. From 296 to about 298, his “friends” met on and off, in different combinations; and their interests were taken up 44

Anna Straughair, Chang Hua: A Statesman-Poet of the Western Chin Dynasty, Occasional Paper 15 (Canberra: Australian National University, Faculty of Asian Studies, 1973), pp. 3–5. 45 Liu/Biannian, p. 171, probably following ZZTJ 82, p. 2609, places their principal gathering at 291 ad; but Alan Berkowitz, “Courting Disengagement: ‘Beckoning the Recluse’ Poems of Western Jin,” in Paul W. Kroll and David R. Knechtges, eds., Studies in Early Medieval Chinese Literature and Cultural History: In Honor of Richard B. Mather and Donald Holzman (Provo: T’ang Studies Society, 2003), pp. 88, 114–15, correctly, I believe, disputes the ZZTJ date, and makes it instead 296; see also David Knechtges, “Sweet-peel Orange or Southern Gold: Regional Identity in Western Jin Literature,” in ibid., p. 32. Knechtges says that Lu’s appointment in 296 was as “Gentleman of Palace Writers,” but according to Wan Sitong that post came in 302, and in 296 the appointment was “dian zhonglang 典中郎”); see my chap. 6, table 5 and relevant notes.

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heavily with poetry, especially the poetry of estates and landscapes, and lyrical, perhaps none-too-real eremitism. But it was historiography, I would argue, that was a chief concern for a subcircle of Jia associates. Jinshu states that Jia Mi, “when Huidi was installed, once again called [on scholars] to critique [the earlier debate between Xun Xu and Wang/Fu Zan] 惠帝立 , 更使議之 .” It seems, though, according to modern scholarship, that the resumption occurred around 298.46 Especially by having used the adverb “renewedly,” or, “once again,” the Jinshu editors implied that Jia Mi knew of the 284 episode and was motivated to solve it. Jia would have been quite young back then, thus he may have learned of its critical bearing on the conduct of Jin historiography from his associates, men like Zhi Yu, Shu Xi, and their leader Zhang Hua, all having been active critics of Xun Xu. Jinshu gives us nothing but the names of the ten participants and their intellectual positions, like a roll-call. Jia Mi and six others, including Zhang Hua, who is called by his post-296 title of “Minister of Works,” are said to have been in favor of having the Jin start with the first reign of Jin Wudi, that is, the Taishi 泰始 (266–75) reign-period. It is safe to say that this was the “official” position. Three scholars took the late Xun Xu’s point, that the Jin should be chronicled beginning in the Zhengshi reign of the Wei dynasty. In this camp were in fact two Xuns: Xun Xu’s son Fan and Fan’s nephew Jun 畯 (Xun Xu’s grandson through his second son Ji 輯 ). Representing what had once been Wang/Fu Zan’s position back in 284 were two men: a Xun (not of the Yingchuan Xuns) and the same Diao Xie whom we met in the first section of this chapter, a scholar who in about 318 would work in association with a Xun descendant on a project to edit the Jin Rites. In my discussion of the 284 episode in Chapter Six (in the section “Chronology as Theory and Practice”) I brought to bear a modern opinion that Xun Xu’s “Zhengshi” solution was an attempt to help the Jin dynasts hide their violent origins. But now, seeing the official position devised by Jia Mi for the resumed debate, Xun’s motive stands 46

The passage is at JS 40, p. 1174. It might mean 290–91, but that is not the only interpretation: it could mean any time in Huidi’s “establishment” as emperor. On “298,” see Zhu Xizu 朱希祖, Jizhong shu kao 汲冢書考 (Beijing: Zhonghua, 1960), p. 58; and Anthony Bruce Fairbank, “Ssu-ma I (179–251): Wei Statesman and Chin Founder, An Historiographical Inquiry,” Ph.D. diss. (Seattle: University of Washington, 1994), pp. 74–79. Zhu is not cited by Fairbank there, but is listed in his bibliography. Part of Fairbank’s reasoning has to do with other sources who mention Lu Ji and Shu Xi as participants in the discussion; see below.


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out more clearly: it had been anti-Wei in conception. Xun Xu had desired to delegitimize Wei by having it stop in 240, much as he had delegitimized early-Wei protocols of music. Now, in 298, the court was sending a message about the need for a more standard form of historiographical framing, one that did not give Jin so much imperial sway over the calendar and also reached out favorably to the Wei. If these scholars were actually gathered together for the discussion in 289, then it would have made for yet another fascinating tableau, with Zhang Hua triumphantly facing surviving descendants of his intellectual and factional enemy and at the same time using historiography as acute critique aimed at Empress Jia Nanfeng and her group. We are told that the affair and presumably its findings “were soon put abroad in the land 事遂施行 .” This may have been the case, but the problems of historiographic method and the way a dynasty is set into motion by the historiographic framework of annals were not so easily solved. From sources other than Jinshu we learn that Lu Ji, probably Jia Mi’s most favored intellectual companion, lodged a formal court opinion in 298 that shaded Jia’s dictum. Lu felt that historians of Jin had no choice but to treat the lives of its three great predynastic founders (Sima Yi, Shi, and Zhao) as “annals 記 ,” instead of through the mundane genre of “traditional biography 傳 .” Shu Xi, furthermore, is said to have disagreed with Lu on this matter. Lu is known to have authored just such a work, titled “Annals of the Three Ancestors 三組記 .” Lu’s position, then, if I interpret it correctly, was a compromise that cast the lives of the three ur-dynasts into “annals,” but still had the dynasty begin in Taishi.47 Prisca antiqua: The spirit of western jin scholarship and letters The energetic life of Xun Xu can be seen through the hinge of antiquity. Antiquity could be Han or Wei, or it could be what lay beyond Yao and Shun, pointing to the Yellow Emperor or Shen Nong. It could be a simple screen of authority, that is, a source of values that could be attached to one’s ideas so as to make them weighty. Antiquity could be a realm from which to retrieve thoughts and phrases, and it was also formless and disturbing in its power to erase and unify. It could be a 47

This is my own interpretation; for the relevant sources, see Fairbank, “Ssu-ma I,” pp. 77–81.

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person’s literary aid and retreat, even a friend. Everything about this conundrum may be expressed in ideological terms, and we do so now in order to establish a closing summary of Xun Xu. As with the “There-is-not” versus “There-is” and the regulated versus the freely imperfect, topics discussed in several places of my book, here toward the close of the Western Jin there were clearly those on the left and those on the right side of the equation. The left side was Dao, “There-is-not”, linguistic transcendence, the Yellow Emperor and his ilk, formless erasure; but also there was intimacy and aid. On the right were the Wei-Jin transition (only briefly in the past) and its need for legitimation, Zhou authorizations for rites, and a place to retrieve imprimatur and proofs. Furthermore, the right side of the equation was not transcendence. Here, I want to suggest briefly a certain view that concerns Zhang Hua and others of his type. Especially through Zhang we begin to see the shaping of an approach to antiquity and intimacy, one that would help the purveyors of Jin court culture survive and remold themselves later, after the post-311 transition to the south. His was a carefully edged left-side approach. It was daoistic; it was mature in its ability to carry complaint and irony and could, in the spirit of Han poetics, be brooding about fate. Clearly the approach of Zhang’s world did not favor those who, like Xun Xu, traveled grandly on the right side of the road, who did not cultivate literary feelings, or were obsessed with mining a troublesome young antiquity—the subjunctive world of Zhou rites for the empire. The Zhang Hua ambit drew its spirit from the left side. To make a fitting interpretation, we might say that it appealed to a prisca antiqua, or “veneration of the truly ancient spririt,” to be seen as the search for self-identity in the fluid, sympathetic, and primordial past, not the prisca Zhou past of Xun and his ilk. Let us look at Zhang and his circle, bringing in the thoughts of Shu Xi, Du Yu, and others. For these men, who were Xun Xu’s peers and who often confronted or worked uneasily alongside Xun, the personal was wrapped up with the primordial. When moved to express notions and ideas of what we may call truth, or about overarching values to be got from their readings, they put themselves into a clear connection with primordial antiquity. The Primordial as Contactable Let us take the example of Shu Xi, but in a two-step process. First comes his thought about antiquity. Although it is not about the pri-


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mordial past, it was a desire to connect to the spirit of Confucius’ words. In his fu rhapsody titled “On Reading” 讀書賦 , Shu creates an image of what a true reader was doing as he read. Such a “reader” is meant by Shu to be a Daoist-like adept: “The Master Who Abandons Himself to the Way,” living in “pure spirit.” Shu emphasizes certain physical acts, which start with relaxation techniques but end in exertions. At first a true “reader” “inhales and exhales” the emptiness; he “folds away his form,” “lowers the curtains,” and “relaxedly” turns to performing vocal renditions of odes from the Confucian Classic of Odes 詩經 . In giving voice, the reader “sings,” “declaims,” and “trills.” Here Shu Xi is on both sides of the equation: teasing out the potentially transcendent feelings to be got from performing antiquity properly. One has to put oneself forward physically to reconstruct the Odes in their pristine form, yet not too energetically, since relaxation must not be breached.48 Shu Xi continues to search for the Odes, especially “lost” Odes, by going farther out into the abyss of history. Things lost in antiquity can be touched again and perhaps reconstructed. This sentiment comes in his preface to his famous set of tetrameter poems titled “Bu wang shi” 補亡詩 . Dominik Declercq translates this as “Lost Odes Supplied,” and he shows that Shu’s aim was, to quote Shu’s phrase there, “distantly to visualize the past and to concentrate his thought on antiquity 遙想既往 , 存思在昔 ” in order actually to restore lost Shijing items.49 Shu’s pentient for literary antiquarianism was evident, and probably was noticed intently by his mentor Zhang Hua, an active antiquarian himself. Dominik Declercq goes on to make a deep insight: [Shu’s preface shows] not merely a concern to root one’s writings in the impeccable orthodoxy of the Classics; it is evidence of a belief that if a writer is to create a work of value, he has to enter into the spirit of past monuments of his craft and will dilute the power of his own creation if he goes so far as to depart from their original phraseology.50

Declercq’s insight can act as a key to our small closure on the life of Xun Xu. The context in which Declercq stated the above was to explain the formation of genres and genre imitation, and thus the emphasis on 48

See Shu’s “On Reading,” trans. Susan Cherniack, “Book Culture and Textual Transmission in Sung China,” HJAS 54.1 (1994), pp. 51–53, and the sources given there. 49 Dominik Declercq, Writing Against the State: Political Rhetorics in Third and Fourth Century China (Leiden: Brill, 1998), p. 77, Shu’s preface as quoted in Li Shan’s commentary to Wenxuan 文選 (Beijing: Zhonghua, 1977), p. 16a [272]. 50 Declercq, Writing Against the State, p. 77.

“they ’ve stolen my phoenix pool”


writers’ sticking with original forms and phraseology. But that is actually not the essential point for my purposes; I prefer instead to focus only on “enter[ing] into the spirit of past monuments.” Declercq also directs us to Fu Xuan 傅玄 (219–278), whom we have encountered. I do not see Fu as having been either a Xun or a Zhang factionalist, but he participated with Xun Xu in the ritual lyrics project. In a passage of his well-known compendium Fuzi 傅子 , Fu maintained the view that Mencius had imitated the Analects in order to carry forward his own thoughts. Declercq once again provides a key: One wonders whether the explosive growth of the Chinese written corpus following the invention and spread of paper is not at least partly responsible for this development, a reactionary urge by leading literati to introduce a distinction between ‘higher’ literature and newly emerging forms of writing by insisting that the former have a pure and ancient pedigree.51

I strongly agree, and would add that it was of course not merely the spread of inexpensive materials and media that caused literati of Western Jin to seek out a higher realm for themselves, to remain above the fray and the crowd; their literary journey into deep antiquity was importantly a reaction against over-exacting agendas like Xun Xu’s. In other words, Declerq might have emphasized his primary insight even more: that writers and thinkers were highly interested in the power of the past, a place in which they could retrieve lost models and find aids to thinking. After the post-Ji Tomb struggles over the interpretation of the past through chronological tools and paleography, the scholarly spirit by the end of Western Jin became more sanguine. Zhi Yu and Wang Jie, as we saw at the beginning of this chapter, wanted to offer antiquity their protection and support through careful consideration of latter-day scholars who had contributed to “Tradition,” antiquity’s helpmate. Du Yu, someone who would be mentioned often by later generations, was this very type of commentator. Research into early-medieval China has so far failed to produce a full study of Du. But we might suggest some things. He was not so much in Zhang Hua’s ambit as much as a separate focus of an even wider circle. Du provides an effaced example of approaches to antiquity and their relevance to the reception of Xun Xu. This is because Du was relatively more aligned with the scholarly style of the Xuns. Du researched in the spirit of the There-is, and he was neither poet nor 51



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musician; like Xun Xu, he was a maker and a seeker after systematic solutions, spending years in provincial locales dealing with hydraulics and economic projects. When it came to the art of commentary, he was diametrically opposed to the Xun style. It may be argued that in his Zuozhuan commentary Du wanted to treat the past cautiously and with reverence, if not for its mystery and transcendence (as Zhang and Fu may have felt) but for its possessing facts. One recent scholar has said that Du Yu, given numerous opportunities to enlarge upon and deduce new facts based on the text of Zuozhuan, chose not to do so. Du did not extrapolate about ancient men’s feudal office titles or their places in great-family genealogies if he had no basis for doing so. In short, he was respectful of evidence and “reticent” to infer things from weak conjecture.52 For thinkers like Du Yu, Xun Xu’s entire approach, with its agenda to trim facts and put them into the near-antiquity of the Zhou, and, most importantly, his willingness to change a venerable text from a pre-Han tomb, was an incautious one. This helps explain the hub-bub surrounding Xun’s editing of the bamboo-slip texts. The Personal as Contactable Worldwide, scholarship is only just beginning to assess the Jin and the Southern and Northern dynasties, and we have only small offerings on the nature of Western Jin scholarship. I would venture to say, though, that we should consider a certain irony behind the new trends during Wei and Jin toward the personal and personable. Especially when the context was the highly influential court-oriented scholarship (even in cases where commissions were avoided), what was personal was often not intimate or friendly but consumed by critique, and by the arduous tasks that might involve teams of workers and decades spent on projects; ultimately it entailed correction and judgment. Yet, on the other hand, the belles lettres of Western Jin, and Eastern Jin even more, has shown us writers who were sympathetic, friendly, fun loving, and seekers of guides for their own personas and careers. Those guides could be obtained directly through their nearto-hand friends, past famous men, or even from the sages of primordial antiquity. This was the beginning of the Shishuo sensibility of the intimate, about which I remarked in my Introduction and at the end of Chapter Five. 52

This is the argument of Barry Blakeley, “Notes on the Reliability and Objectivity of the Tu Yü Commentary on the Tso Chuan,” JAOS 101.2 (1981), pp. 207-12.

“they ’ve stolen my phoenix pool”


Zhang Hua was a key to this scholarly way. In a verse-set titled “Three Poems in Reply to He Shao” 答何劭詩三首 , we experience words that are quite believable for their interiority. He lets us know how much being a leading official could cost a man his freedom and peace. We recall that He Shao was placed into the Imperial Library as inspector in 293, most likely on the bidding of Zhang. Zhang’s sentiments, below, were expressed upon receiving a notice, probably a poem, from He. They are immediate: he feels a relief, a surge of peace, as he recalls the old friendship, mentioning that he cannot respond to He Shao’s “warm and cordial” letter very easily. One senses that the time that he wrote this was either during his 282–85 exile from Luoyang or during the factional squeeze from 296–300 under the Empress Jia Nanfeng: “Whether my task is great or small, I must proceed with care … I sit restrained by fear. / I felt that your letter was like some fine present, / You poured out all your heart with real sincerity, …”53 Zhang Hua also gifted Zhi Yu with a sentimental poem, this time more daoistic, with mention of the “void.” It is titled “Presented to Zhi Zhongzhi” 贈摯仲治詩 : The gentleman does not strive after fame, He lingers always on the same hill. Looking up to the shade of the forest, dense and tall, And down to the place where the rushing river flows. Quiet and solitary, nourishing the mysterious void, Immersed in the essence, he studies the sage counsels.54

This is not as biting as the lines, above, for He Shao; it is merely admiration for a younger scholar, one who captured for Zhang the essence of a sage who was in tune with essential truths that come from remote places. We cannot find in Zhang’s writing anything about primordial antiquity, per se. Reading through his poems, as collected in his reconstituted wenji,55 one spots a recurring attitude toward the past as simply his despair about loss as marked by the fleeting years. Moreover, Zhang left no major opus containing an extended argument on historiography, institutions, or even a commentary to a classic. But what I wish to suggest is the importance overall in these years of Zhang Hua as a 53

See Lu/Shi, sect. Jinshi 3, p. 618; trans. Straughair, Chang Hua, pp. 88–90. The poem by He to which Zhang responds seems to be the one titled “ 贈張華詩”; Lu/Shi, p. 648. 54 Ibid., p. 621; trans. Straughair, Chang Hua, p. 91. 55 See HWLC (SKQS edn.), j. 40.


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social leader of his circle, his ambit. We have seen his deeply felt mentoring as applied to two critical figures of the post-Xun Xu world of scholarship—Shu Xi and Zhi Yu. He also marked his friendship with He Shao in the most intimate of terms. Thus, we can see that for the scholars most involved in a revolution in historiography after the discovery of the Ji Tomb texts and the end of the Wu War, their sense of identity as a group was moved along and nurtured by Zhang Hua. I see them as having been motivated by Zhang’s constant play of emotions involving the Dao and the mysterious void; they would have noticed when, in his ritual song lyrics for the lyric “competition” involving Xun Xu in 269–70, he diffused the dancers of the great spectacle, having them “… enter, and then retreatingly yield; the transformations gradual, without form.” From such impetus, and from the remarks and styles of others in that time, writers like Fu Xuan and Huangfu Mi, Shu Xi would begin to peer into antiquity for answers to help reconstruct what was lost. Shu, Zhi Yu, and others could begin to treat antiquity as worthy of the kind of awe that had been the tenor of thinking from the 220s to the 240s, with Cao Pi, the writings of Ruan Ji and Xi Kang 嵇康 , and the counter-cultural maneuvers of such xuanxue exponents as Xun Can, Wang Bi, He Yan, and others. It not only created a philosophical framework for their work in chronology and paleography, but it also represented a sharp rebuke of the anti-xuanxue and clearly anti-Wei (anti-Cao) agenda of Xun Xu and Xun Yi—the obsessively pro-Jin men. Xun Xu was not part of this post-Ji Tomb world of belles lettres, instead being its target of suspicion. If there had been no discovery of a tomb of a Warrings States Wei noble and no Wu War, then one wonders about the life of Xun Xu: it might have turned out to be more integrated socially at court. Xun might have gone on for years in his somewhat uncomfortable but manageable relationship with Zhang Hua—he as inspector and Zhang as prefect, modeling the structure of the Cao–Wei inner court. But that could not happen. As we saw, in 287 Xun Xu moved unhappily into the Masters of Writing office, but continued to exert officious control, and at that time he could have been planning to revisit his strong, anti-Wei musicological agenda by reforming Du Kui’s bell harmonics. It would have been yet further grounds for his peers to want to keep him at bay. Xun was one of only a few scholars since Western Han times to master systems (whether computations, divination techniques, constructions, or textual interpretations) in order to make blanket reforms

“they ’ve stolen my phoenix pool”


of entire programs of rites. This was a dangerous ambition not only politically, but intellectually, since the precedents, chiefly Li Si, Jing Fang, and Wang Mang, became negative models. They had chosen to pursue techniques and arts that used deep antiquity to extract answers to suit a modern, political project. It is why the Zhou aspect of history and the Rites became so heavily studied by late in Western Han, but engendered little agreement as to how it all might be used to revitalize a Han court or a post-Han one. Several generations later, by late Eastern Han, scholars fashioned new categories of learning that in fact finally were returning to the arts like those practiced by Jing Fang and Wang Mang and that had been treated as disturbing and perhaps not gentlemanly. But these scholars, for example Ma Rong, Zheng Xuan, and Cai Yong, were not seeking to use ancient arts to control an emperor. They represented a new type of scholarly antiquarianism. When Eastern Han collapsed, the next generation of scholars preferred to go right on through the Zhou and into deep antiquity; to tease out intimations of perfection and utopia through transcendence of language and social bounds. By Xun Xu’s day, that experiment with deep, or primordial, antiquity had not been finished. Xun’s approach was a countering of the young Han-Wei xuanxue-ists, and thus his prisca Zhou was not what the times warranted. In the end, it is perhaps appropriate to note what Xun Xu did not create. He gave to the world no intimate lyrics or lines of poetry about friends, about travails in searching for the meaning of antiquity, or travails in state offices and careers. It was not a life punctuated by a longing for serenity in the Dao. Nor did he proceed from his lively contacts with Lie He and Lie’s group of master musicians in entertainment ensembles to the composing of yuefu lyrics or tunes. Xun’s rhapsody on the grape (see Chapter Three, the section “Competing Lyrics for the Dance-Song Performances”) did not get saved nor did it lead to a body of memorable Xun rhapsodies. We do not see in Xun Xu any of the lyric engagement that typified writers and scholars like Chenggong Sui, Zhang Hua, Fu Xuan, and Shu Xi, although there is the one exception—Xun Xu’s intriguing rhythm that he encoded into his lyric for the Jin’s music and dance spectacle. It may take more explanation than I am capable of, or may simply be nugatory. Xun therefore was not part of the ongoing prisca antiqua, nor a part of the wider world of sociable scholars who were clustered and supported by—and this is a circular insight indeed—his enemy Zhang Hua. Part of the explanation may lay in the smallness of the world of


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the Western Jin court. Xun’s family was one of perhaps only twenty or thirty, feeling perhaps a bit temporary in their pursuits of mansions, objects, and wealth in Luoyang, as the polity seemed to be trending toward political ruin. One has merely to think of the high Tang, or Northern Song, when the capital was peopled with many hundreds of rich families, coming in or passing through, preparing sons for scholarship and office. Numerous thinkers in those later years engaged in the same sort of polymathic program that typified Xun Xu and others. Yet, the contexts for critical work and research into systematic, even in some sense scientific, knowledge were more accepted and supported by schools, both court-established and private. Writings on obscure and difficult topics were saved and gathered, to be referred to and critiqued over and over, and copied and printed in books. Rites and agendas to set straight dynastic legitimacy were debated and written up voluminously, producing “schools” of moral and even technical learning. In the third century, this was not the case. The life spent in precision by a man taken up wholly with technical learning, compounded by his intense factional commitments, would be critiqued, scorned, and then passed over. Except for contexts of legendizing, Xun Xu would not be referred to or quoted, as were talented scholars like the great Sui and early-Tang exegetes, or the Tang monks Fazang 法藏 (643–712) and Yixing 一行 (683–727), or the Song geniuses Shen Gua 沈括 (1031–1095), Su Shi 蘇軾 (1036–1101), and Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–1086). Xun’s precision was unsociable, perhaps merely as a result of the Xun family’s own sixty- or seventy-year struggle to maintain court stature and their reliance on tightly knit influence and connections. The politics of precision for the Western Jin Xuns, and particularly for the one great technical man, Xun Xu, did not join with the politics of a world of scholarship that was girding up for a further journey, into new lands and new values.


SELECTIVE BIBLIOGRAPHY OF CITED WORKS Abbreviations Used throughout the Footnotes and Bibliography Full citations of items that are titles of published works are found in the following sections. AM deC/BD HS HHS HJAS HWLC JAOS JS JSJZ Liu/Biannian Lu/Shi Lu/Xinian QHHW QJW QSGW SBBY SBCK SCC SgS SGZ SGZJJ SKQS SS SSHY/Mather SSJZS SSXYJJ TCTC/Fang TD TP TPYL W/B WX Xuxiu SKQS YFSJ ZZTJ

Asia Major, third series de Crespigny, Biographical Dictionary Ban, Hanshu Fan, Hou Hanshu Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies Zhang, Han Wei Liuchao baisanjia ji Journal of the American Oriental Society Fang, Jinshu Wu and Liu, Jinshu jiaozhu Liu, Han Jin xueshu biannian Lu, Xian Qin Han Wei Jin Nanbeichao shi Lu, Zhonggu wenxue xinian Yan, Quan Hou Han wen Yan, Quan Jin wen Yan, Quan Sanguo wen Sibu beiyao 四部備要 edition Sibu congkan 四部叢刊 edition Needham, Science and Civilisation in China Shen, Songshu Chen, Sanguo zhi Lu, Sanguozhi jijie Siku quanshu 四庫全書 edition Wei, Suishu Mather, Shih-shuo Hsin-yü Shisan jing zhushu 十三經注疏 edition Yang, Shishuo xinyu jiaojian Fang, Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms Du, Tong dian T’oung Pao Li, Taiping yulan Wilhelm (Baynes, trans.), The I-ching Knechtges, Wen xuan Xuxiu Siku quanshu 續修四庫全書 edition Guo, Yuefu shiji Sima, Zizhi tongjian



Citational and Other Abbreviations Used in Main Text and Notes annot. biog. b. c. ca. chap. cit. comp. d. ed. edn. e.g.

annotator, annotated by biography birth century circa chapter citing/quoting compiler, compiled by death editor, edited by edition for example

esp. mo. n. Ph.D. diss. r. rpt. SUNY trans. vol. Zhonghua U. P.

especially lunar month note Ph.D. dissertation reign reprint, reprinted State University of New York Press translator, translated by volume Zhonghua shuju University Press

Note on Office Names and Officials’ Titles In all cases I use the renderings of offices and their spellings as given in Bielenstein, Bureaucracy of Han Times (cited below, under Monographs). I believe his renderings approach the actual situation in Western Jin times and reflect certain continuities from W. and E. Han administrations.

Primary Texts This section lists premodern and modern annotated editions of early texts that were used as source materials in this book. I have included only texts that were treated in a significant way and that have been printed as independent editions. Also listed are Westernlanguage translations of certain primary texts consulted. For phrases and passages taken merely as quotations from compendia and florilegia, see the following section. Also in following sections are Western-language studies of primary texts that may contain at least partial translations but that I consider basically as monographs. For an overview of writings by Xun Xu and his extended-family kin, as well as primary biographical or anedcotal writings about the Xuns, see the description at the end of the Introduction; also see List 1, “Items of Xun-Family Intellectual Culture,” appended to Chapter One. Ban Gu 班固 (32–92), comp. Hanshu 漢書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1962. Biot, Édouard, trans. Le Tcheouli, ou Rites des Tcheou. Peking: Wen Tien Ko, 1939; rpt. Taipei: Ch’eng Wen, 1969. Chen Shou 陳壽 (233–297). Annot. Pei Songzhi 裴松之 (372–451). Sanguo zhi 三國志. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1982. Couvreur, Seraphin, trans. I-li, Cérémonial. Rpt. Paris: Cathasia, 1951. ————. Li Ki, ou, Mémoires sur les bienséances et les cérémonies. Paris: Cathasia, Série Culturelle des Hautes Études de Tien-Tsin, n.d. Cutter, Robert Joe, and William G. Crowell. Empresses and Consorts: Selections from Chen Shou’s Records of the Three States with Pei Songzhi’s Commentary. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2000. Du You 杜佑 (735–812), comp. Tong dian 通典. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1988. Fan Ye 范曄 (398–445), comp. Hou Hanshu 後漢書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1965. Fang, Achilles, trans. The Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms (220–265): Chapters 69–78 from the Tzǔ Chih T’ung Chien of Ssǔ-ma Kuang (1029–1086), ed. Glen W. Baxter. 2 vols. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard U. P., 1952, 1965. Fang Xuanling 房玄齡 (578–648) et al., comp. Jinshu 晉書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1974. Guo Maoqian 郭茂倩 (fl. 1084–1126), Yuefu shiji 樂府詩集. 4 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1979.



Guoyu 國語. SBCK. Huainan zi 淮南子. SBCK. Huangfu Mi. 皇甫謐. Gaoshi zhuan 高士傳. SBBY. Liu Xu 劉昫 (887–946). Jiu Tangshu 舊唐書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1975. Karlgren, Bernhard. “The Book of Documents.” Bulletin of the Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities 22 (1950): 1–81. ————. The Book of Odes: Chinese Text, Transcription, and Translation. Stockholm: Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities, 1950. Knechtges, David, trans. Wen xuan: Or Selections of Refined Literature [by Xiao Tong, 501– 531]. Princeton Library of Asian Translations. 3 vols to date. Princeton: Princeton U. P., 1982, 1987, 1996. Knoblock, John, and Jeffrey Riegel, trans. The Annals of Lü Buwei: A Complete Translation and Study. Stanford: Stanford U. P., 2000. Lau, D. C., ed. A Concordance of the Liji. ICS Ancient Chinese Text Concordance Series. Hong Kong: Shangwu, 1992. ————, trans. and annot. Mencius. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1970. Legge, James, trans. The Ch’un Ts’ew with the Tso Chuen. Volume 5 of idem, The Chinese Classics. 2d rev. edn. Rpt. Hong Kong: Hong Kong U. P., 1960. ————, trans. The Shoo King, or The Book of Historical Documents. Volume 3 of idem, The Chinese Classics. 2d rev. edn. Rpt. Hong Kong: Hong Kong U. P., 1960. Li Shan 李善 (d. 689), annot. Liuchen Wenxuan zhu 六臣文選註 . SBCK chubian edn. Liu Zhiji 劉知幾 (661–721). Shitong tongshi 史通通釋. Ed. Pu Qilong 浦起龍 . Hong Kong: Taiping shuju, 1964. Liu Lin 劉琳, annot. Huayang guozhi jiao zhu 華陽國志校注. Chengdu: Ba Shu shushe, 1984. Lu Bi 盧弼 (1876–1967), annot. Sanguozhi jijie 三國志集解. Rpt. Taibei: Xinwen feng, 1975. Mather, Richard, trans. Shih-shuo Hsin-yü: A New Account of Tales of the World [By Liu Ich’ing, with Commentary by Liu Chün]. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1976. 2d edn., Ann Arbor: Center for Chinese Studies, The University of Michigan, Michigan Monographs in Chinese Studies 95, 2002. Mu Tianzi zhuan 穆天子傳. SBCK chubian edn. Nanshi 南史. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1975. Quan Tang shi 全唐詩. 25 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1996. Shen Yue 沈約 (441–513). Songshu 宋書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1974. Shih, Vincent Yu-chung, trans. and annot. The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons, by Liu Hsieh. Taipei: Chung Hwa Book Co., 1970. Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–1086). Zizhi tongjian 資治通鑒. Beijing: Guji, 1975. Waley, Arthur, trans. The Book of Songs, ed. Joseph Roe Allen. N.Y.C.: Grove Press, 1996. Watson, Burton, trans. The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia U. P., 1968. Wei Zheng 魏徵 (580–643) et al., comp. Suishu 隋書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1973. Wilhelm, Richard, trans. The I-ching or Book of Changes. Trans. Cary F. Baynes (from the German). 3d rev. edn. Princeton: Princeton U. P., 1967. Wu Shijian 吳士鑑 and Liu Chenggan 流承幹, comps. Jinshu jiaozhu 晉書斠注. Taipei: Yiwen yinshu guan, 1956. Xiao Tong 簫統 (501–531), comp. Wenxuan 文選. Recut Sung woodblock edn. Shanghai: Huiwen tang, 1910. Xin Tangshu 新唐書. Beijing: Zhonghua, 1995.



Yang Yong 楊勇, annot. Shishuo xinyu jiaojian 世說新語校箋. Hong Kong: Dazhong shuju, 1969. Yao Zhenzong 姚振宗 (1843–1906). Suishu jingji zhi kaozheng 隋書經籍志考證. Vols. 915–16 of Xuxiu SKQS. Also printed in Ershiwu shi bubian, vol. 4. Ye Chengyi 葉程義, comp. Han Wei shike wenxue kaoshi 漢魏石刻文學考釋. Taibei: Xinwen feng, 1997. Zhao Chao 趙超, comp. Han Wei Nanbei chao muzhi huibian 漢魏南北朝墓志彙編. Tianjin: Tianjin guji chubanshe, 1992. Zhao Wanli 趙萬里, comp. Han Wei Nanbeichao muzhi jishi 漢魏南北朝墓志集釋. Beijing: Kexue chubanshe, 1956. Zhouli zhushu 周禮注疏. SSJZS. Zhouyi 周易. SBBY. Zhouyi yinde 周易引得. Harvard-Yenching Sinological Index Series, Supplement 10. Rpt. Taipei: Chinese Materials and Research Aids Service Center, Inc., 1966.

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Acker, William R. B., 125n7, 125n9 aerophone. See Flute agriculture, 138, 283, 284, 317 antiquarianism and archeology, 25–27, 53, 76, 85, 94, 117, 120, 124n6, 125, 134, 135, 152, 162, 178, 186, 194, 196, 213, 322, 347, 381; found-objects of, 175–76, 178, 179, 182–83, 187–90, 192, 195–96, 197, 198–200, 205–6, 213, 214, 222, 225, 230, 233–38, 269, 347–49; modern, 175, 177, 196, 234, 316; Renaissance, 210–11 See also Ji Tomb; Mawangdui; Mount Song; Nanjing tomb; Shiping archeological discovery; Shun Shrine; see also under Xun Xu antiquity, 351, 352, 353, 354, 374–80; definitions of, 374; primordial, 21, 24, 33, 201, 359, 381; return to (fugu 復古), 19, 20n33, 24; venerated (see Prisca Zhou) Anyang 安陽, 98, 103 apocrypha. See under Philosophy archeology. See Antiquarianism architecture, 121, 136, 163, 172, 173 archives. See under Historiography, offices artisans, 26, 102, 120, 125, 135, 151, 157, 161, 171, 178, 253, 262; palace workshops (shangfang), 213; social position of, 212–14, 285 Assmann, Jan, 86n112, 87 astronomy. See under Philosophy Balazs, Etienne, 14 ballets. See under Musicology: dance Bamboo Annals (Zhushu jinian 竹書紀 年), 26, 291, 300, 304; and chronological problems of, 291, 297, 301, 336, 342, 345, 352; editions, 204, 337–46, 352; editorial changes to, 338, 342, 344, 345, 361, 364, 378; as source for correcting other histories, 339, 340; transcription, 312, 321, 324, 325, 332, 336, 343, 358, 361; transmission, 291, 295n39, 317n96, 321, 336, 337–46; Xun

Xu and, 204, 304, 324–25, 332, 336, 337, 358. See also under He Qiao; Sima Biao; Wang/Fu Zan Ban Gu 班固 (32–92), 171–72, 174, 197, 214, 255–56, 366 Bao Si 褒姒 (Zhou era), 116, 116n56 Barbieri-Low, Anthony, 212 Beck, Mansfelt, 339 bells. See under Musicology Berkowitz, Alan, 372n45 biezhuan 別傳. See under Historiography, primary sources Bing Ji 邴吉 (W. Han era), 346 Bishu 秘書 (Imperial Library). See under Historiography, offices Boltz, William G., 356n13 Brown, Miranda, 36n2 Cai Mo 蔡謨, 358 Cai Yong 蔡邕 (133–92), 46, 48, 50, 69, 202, 209n121, 212, 213, 255–56, 258, 269, 316, 381 calendar and calendrics. See under Philosophy calligraphy and calligraphers: ancient, 25, 313, 315, 316, 319; history of, 314; and Ji Tomb, 313–19; Jin-era, 170; as skill, 43, 280; styles, 170–71; Wei-era, 169n16. See also Scholarship, arts and methods: paleography Cao Cao 曹操 (155–220): and law, 70, 346; in legend, 94, 330; and Liu Fang and Sun Zi, 166; and music, 129, 157, 179, 187, 234–35, 331; opposition to, 49; and recruitment of officials, 19; and Ruan family, 269; and Xun Yu, 48, 49–52, 57, 60n54, 61, 368. See also under Factions Cao Fang 曹芳 (231–74; r. 240–54), 92 Cao Hong 曹洪 (d. 232), 59, 59n51 Cao Mao 曹髦 (241–60; r. 254–60 as Gaogui xiang gong 高貴鄉公), 63, 99, 101



Cao Pi 曹丕 (187–226; r. Wen Wendi 文 帝, 220–26), 19, 20, 21, 24, 59n51, 61; and antiquity, 353, 380; and court ritual, 92, 167n12; and Daoism, 154; and historiography offices, 166, 302, 364; and music, 132, 179; and oracles, 163; and xuanxue, 149 Cao Rui 曹叡 (206–39; r. Wei Mingdi 明 帝, 227–39), 71, 92–93, 93n4, 130–31, 132, 167, 235, 236 Cao Shen 曹參 (d. 190 bc), 284 Cao Shuang 曹爽 (d. 249), 13, 59, 63, 67, 72, 73–75; in legend, 92, 364; opposition to, 99; purge of old-guard advisors by, 131; purged, 93; regent, 92. See also under Factions “Cao Shuang taint” (reputation during Jin of those who had served Cao Shuang), 30, 92, 94–102, 118, 280, 364 Cao Shujie 曹書杰, 280 Cao-Wei dynasty, 56, 58, 62, 92, 210, 236, 284, 330 Cao Yu 曹宇, 93 cartography, 258, 281 Chang’an, 206, 233, 246 Changshe 長社, 40, 40n8 Chen Ch’i-yun, 39, 43, 45n5, 47, 52, 53, 55 Chen family 陳 of Yingchuan, 40, 43, 50, 52, 63, 73, 85; marriage alliances of, 102 Chen Jun 陳君, 158 Chen Qi (or Hang) 陳頎 (頏) (Wei era), 134, 135, 153, 236, 247, 249 Chen Qun 陳群, 71 Chen Shi 陳寔 (104–86), 43, 46, 48, 65 Chen Shou 陳壽 (233–97), 152, 179, 303, 326 (Tbl. 5), 330–31, 332, 333, 334, 338–39, 340 Chen Xie 陳勰, 190, 347–49 Chenggong Sui 成公綏 (232–73): career, 138–40, 326 (Tbl. 5), 328, 329; critical reception of, 149; and music, 127, 136, 139–40, 328; and law, 106, 139; and xuanxue, 148, 154 chi 尺 (foot-rule or standard-rule). See under Metrology Chongyangling 崇陽陵, 34 (Map), 42, 82 chronology. See under Historiography; also see Historiography: ganzhi dates Classic of Filial Piety. See Scholarship, on individual classics: Xiaojing classicism. See under Scholarship, commentary

collecting and connoisseurship, 123–25, 146, 156, 159, 214, 279 Collins, Randall, 22, 22n37 commemorations. See under Death commentary. See Scholarship, commentary computation. See also Philosophy: shushu arts Confucianism. See under Philosophy Confucius, 20, 66, 210; disciples of, 355–56, 358–59 counter-culture and counter-history. See Historiography: counter-history Courant, Maurice, 233n15 criticism, historiography of. See under Historiography cun 寸 (“inch,” or one-tenth of a chi). See Metrology: chi Dai Miao 戴邈, 353 Dalü 大呂 (pitch-standard 2). See under Musicology Dan Zhu 丹朱, 116 dance. See under Musicology danggu 黨固 persecutions. See Factions: Eastern Han Daoism. See under Philosophy Davis, Timothy, 28, 77n83, 78n86, 81, 82 de Crespigny, Rafe, 45n5 death and mourning: accompaniment burial (peizang 陪葬), 82; Cao-Wei imperial funerary culture, 93n4; cemeteries and tombs, 25, 30, 41–42, 62, 82 (see also Xun family: cemeteries); clan cemetery burial (zuzang 族葬), 82; commemorations, 28, 30, 36, 37, 38, 47, 48, 57, 62, 63–64, 82, 85, 86, 101–2; and culture, 86; epitaphs, 25, 28, 38, 42n9, 49, 75–84, 101–2; excessive mourning, 61; frugal burial, 62, 64; imperial eulogies, 62, 64, 78–79, 101–2; joint burial (hezang 合葬), 82; ling 陵 (imperial burial sites), 42, 82; mourning clothing, 48; music (see Musicology: mourning); parental, 101, 102, 368, 371n43; rites, 353, 356–57, 372; stele memorials, 46, 48, 57, 62, 62n59, 84; temporary burial, 79, 79n88, 82, 83; tomb portraits, 273–75, 277; women and children, 82 debate. See under Philosophy Declercq, Dominik, 335n131, 336, 376–77 Deng Hao 鄧昊, 250, 252–53, 254 Dengfeng, 41

index design. See under Xun Xu DeWoskin, Kenneth, 209, 241n34 di 笛 flute. See under Flute Diao Xie 刁協 (d. 322), 354, 354n3, 357, 373 divination. See also Philosophy: shushu arts Dong Zhuo 董桌 (d. 192), 46, 47n17, 48, 49, 55 Dongguan. See under Historiography, offices Du Kui 杜夔 (fl. 180–225): biography of, 330; criticism of, 150. See also under Metrology; Musicology; Scholarship, arts and methods of Du Mi 杜密 (d. 169), 46, 84 Du Xi 杜襲 of Yingchuan (d. ca. 232), 56 Du Yu 杜預 (222–84), 41, 87, 97 (Tbl. 1), 301n58; and Bamboo Annals, 342; and calligraphy, 317; commentary by, 378; critical reception of, 318; criticism of Xun Xu, 309–10, 318, 319, 322, 325; historiographical methods, 377; and historiography offices, 319, 333; honored by state, 286; and Ji Tomb, 292, 298–99, 298n52, 313, 317–19, 321, 325, 337, 352; and law, 318; military posts, 110, 317, 318; need for biographies of family of, 9; skills, 317; and student Xu Xian, 319 dualism. See under Philosophy Duke of Zhou 周公, 115, 115n54, 210 Eastern Han: court, 40, 49n25, 55, 57; factions (see under Factions); Jin Wudi comparison with, 100; metrology (see under Metrology); music, 222; scholarship, 166 (see also Historiography, offices: Dongguan) Ellis, Alexander J., 211n123 engineering and engineer (premodern sense), 215, 250, 255, 265, 318, 347 epitaphs. See under Death Ess, Hans van, 16n26 etiquette, 66, 115n54, 274, 302 examinations, 106, 206 exegetical methods. See under Scholarship, commentary factions and factional issues, 30; Cao Shuang, 92, 92n3, 93–102, 276 (issues of, 92, 93); in Cao-Wei dynasty, 63, 92, 93–102, 118–20, 167; and conflict, in general, 107, 120, 137; in Eastern Han, 42, 46, 47, 55, 75; generational


differences between, 99; and historiography offices, 24, 167, 302, 326 (Tbl. 5); and Ji Tomb investigation, 292; Jia–Xun, 23, 107–8, 109, 137, 276, 281–82, 285, 286–90, 302, 306, 313, 319, 320, 334n130, 358, 362 (issues of, 23–24, 94, 107–11, 118–19, 280, 281–85, 358–59, 362–64) (see also Xun Xu: and factions); Jin court, in general, 73, 74 (Fig. 3), 107–11, 118–20, 136–39, 267n77, 276, 279, 286, 313, 318–19, 338, 364, 367, 374, 377; in legend, 112; Liu Fang–Sun Zi, 166–67, 363; loyalty to Wei dynasty, factional policies on, 98–102, 118–19, 330; in Luoyang, 58; and music, 136–40, 272; mutability of, 104, 109, 110n39, 118–19, 280, 285, 319, 327, 358; pro-Cao Cao, 39; Ruan Xian and, 267n77, 272; Shan Tao ambit, 274, 276; Sima Yi, 92, 93–102; Sima family, factional issues of, 92, 93; and succession crisis, 23–24, 107–09, 281–82, 285, 359, 362–64; Twenty-four Friends, 333, 334–35, 371, 372–73; violence, 37, 81, 137; Wu War, factional issues of, 23–24, 107, 109–11, 119, 280; in Yingchuan, 43; Zhang Hua ambit, 136–39, 301, 303, 311, 318, 320–25, 330, 331, 332–34, 351–52, 358, 360, 365, 367, 371–74, 375–80 (issues of, 24, 109–11, 324–25, 351–52, 380); Zhi Yu ambit, 352–65 Fairbank, Anthony Bruce, 165n9, 168n14, 334 Falkenhausen, Lothar von, 241n34, 253n49 family, 61, 86, 104, 106, 302, 371n42. See also Filiality; Marriage Fan Qin 范欽 (1506–85), 295n39 Fan Ying 樊英 (d. after 130), 53 Fang Xuanling 房玄齡 (578–648), 112, 114, 117, 118 al-Fārābī (872–950), 262 Farmer, Michael, 137 Fei Zhi 費直 (ca. 50 bc–10 ad), 53–55 Feng Dan 馮紞 (d. 286/7), 97 (and Tbl. 1), 107, 109, 111, 334n130, 364 Ferguson, John, 175–76, 194 filiality, 47, 61, 63–64, 85, 101, 106, 119, 354. See also Family Five Phases. See under Philosophy Five Ranks system, 105, 281, 284 floods. See Natural disasters



flute and aerophone: chi 篪 flute, 226; chiba 尺八 flute (shakuhachi), 227; design of, 156–57, 202, 226, 230, 245, 249–50, 252, 256–59; di 笛 flute, 23, 190, 215–16, 225–26, 236, 242, 245, 249, 254, 256; finger-holes, 215, 226, 230, 231, 235, 237, 239, 241, 245, 246, 249, 250, 252, 256–59, 260–62, 263; found-objects, 189; hengchui 橫吹 or hengdi 橫笛 transverse flute, 226; makers, 26, 253 (see also Lie He); materials (bamboo, jade, etc.), 227, 243, 252, 253; modes, 237; as regulators, 218, 252–53; scaling of, 236, 245, 253; technique of play, 239, 259, 262, 264; temperamentology of, 12, 31, 164, 204, 216, 217, 225–65, 369–70 (see also Musicology: testing pitches); xiao 蕭 flute, 227 foot-rule. See under Metrology forgery. See Bamboo Annals: editorial changes to; Historiography: forgery; Historiography: reliability Frankel, Hans, 158 “froth” model of intellectual change. See Xuanxue: Zhengshi timbre, “froth” model of Fu Chang 傅暢 (early 300s), 268–69, 276 Fu Gu 傅嘏 (ca. 205–55), 59, 61, 63, 73, 98, 128, 136, 140, 149, 158 Fu Xian 傅咸 (d. 294), 357–58 Fu Xuan 傅玄 (217–78): and antiquity, 33, 380; bureaucratic reform, 283–85; career, 138; and historiography, 113, 138, 152, 236; lyrics by, 147, 153, 283, 285, 377; and music, 126, 132, 138, 152; and Xun Xu, 96 (Tbl. 1), 97, 283, 285, 377 Fu Zan. See “Wang/Fu Zan” fugu 復古. See under Antiquity Fung Yu-lan, 14n21, 15, 16n26, 17, 18, 20, 21 Gan Bao 干寳 (fl. ca. 300–25), 180–81, 183, 185, 186, 213, 363n24 ganzhi dates. See under Historiography Gao Ruona 高若訥 (fl. ca. 1059–54), 194, 195 Gaotang Long 高堂隆 (d. 237), 353 Gongsun Yuan 公孫淵 (d. 238), 92 Grafton, Anthony, 11–12 Gu Kaizhi 顧愷之 (d. 406), 275 Gu Yanwu 顧炎武 (1612–81), 18 Guan Lu 管輅 (210–56), 18n30, 58

Guanqiu Dian 毌丘甸, 71 Guanqiu Jian 毌丘儉, 63, 71 Guo Huai 郭槐 (d. 296), 108, 371 Guo Maoqian 郭茂倩 (Song era), 146 Guo Pu 郭璞 (276–324), 295n39 Guo Tai 郭泰 (127–69), 49n25 Guoyu, section “Zhouyu”. See under Scholarship, on individual classics guwen 古文. See under Philosophy Han Fu 韓馥 (d. 191), 49 Han Shao 韓韶, 46; son, Rong 融, 46, 48 Han Wendi, 116, 284 Han, Eastern (Later). See Eastern Han Hart, James, 241n34, 247 He Ceng 何曾 (199–278), 96 (Tbl. 1), 101, 108, 279 He Chengtian 何丞天 (370–447), 181–83, 184, 185, 186, 213, 229, 230, 231, 232, 257, 259, 370 He Qiao 和嶠 (b. ca. 235, d. 292): career, 301–3; and court historiography offices, 168, 298, 301, 302–4, 326 (Tbl. 5), 332–33, 334, 363; as an editor/annotator of Bamboo Annals, question of, 343; and factions, 301–3, 332–33, 363; and Ji Tomb, 293, 296n45, 304, 317, 337, 340–43; and Jin Huidi (Sima Zhong), 363; and Xun Bozi, 232; and Xun Xu, 342–43, 358, 363, 371 He Shao 何劭 (d. 302), 68, 69–70; and historiography offices, 323, 327 (Tbl. 5), 333, 366; and Sima family, 101, 323; and Xun family, 365; and Zhang Hua, 323, 333, 379 He Xiu 何休 (129–82) 361 He Yan 何晏 (d. 249), 15, 17, 17n28, 58, 59, 66–67, 68, 95, 98, 100, 101, 380. See also Wang–He He Yong 何顒 (d. ca. 191–92), 48, 49n25 heptatonic scale. See Musicology, sevennote scales hermeneutics. See under Philosophy historiography: biography, modern, 4–12, 26; biography, premodern, 29, 35–36, 68, 72, 73, 113, 116, 167; Buddhist studies or Buddhology, 7–8, 8n13, 16, 27; change during W. Jin in methods of, 334–46, 353, 362, 366–67, 370, 374, 377, 380; chronology, 281, 291, 301, 313, 322, 328, 333, 334–36, 337, 339, 340–41, 344, 345, 352, 359–60, 370, 373, 377, 380; counter-history, 20, 33, 86–88; of criticism,

index 9; of Daoism, 27, 201; distinguished from “classics,” 334; on Eastern Han, 331, 338–39, 365–67; European, 87; forgery, 345–46, 364; ganzhi dates, 23, 26, 33, 337, 338, 352; genealogies, 357n16, 359; genres, 4, 8n13, 55, 374; Han approaches, 39, 52, 325, 381; and hermeneutics, 17n27; history of, 27; Hua Qiao style of, 365–67; institutional, 351; Jia Mi and, 327 (Tbl. 5), 333, 334–35, 336, 352, 371, 373–74; legendic elements of, 1–4, 18, 359; modern approaches (and Western scholars/sinologists), 6–7, 38–39, 65, 187n60, 259, 280, 291, 308, 328, 341, 378; of music (see under Musicology); narrative, 15; National History 國史, 371, 372; of philosophy, 15; primary sources (see separate heading Historiography, primary sources); private, 325, 332; prosopographies, 7, 18, 26; reliability, 345–46, 359; in religious context, 359; on rites, 351, 353–59; of science, 11, 25–27, 162, 258; social history, 8n13, 15n23, 22n37, 38–39; of technologies, 25–27; of thought, 39; typology, 20; vertical chronologies (nianpu 年普), 7; Wei-Jin approaches, 24, 32–33, 67, 113, 138, 162, 269, 281, 325, 328, 331, 333, 334–46, 359, 366, 370, 378; Xun Xu and (see under Xun Xu); See also Literature historiography, offices: access to, 299, 300, 313, 315, 317–18, 319, 321–22, 323, 325, 329, 334, 366; archives, 151, 214, 297, 297n50, 300, 318, 322, 324, 367; Dongguan 東觀 (Eastern Observatory), 46, 125, 166, 212, 213, 305, 325, 366; in Eastern Han, 332; in Eastern Jin, 328n117; and hierarchic elision of Imperial Library and Palace Writers, 165–68; Imperial Library, 24, 31, 56, 77, 85, 123, 139, 164–70, 178, 183, 187, 193, 213–14, 280, 281, 292, 293, 297, 298, 298n52, 301, 304, 306, 311, 312, 313, 317, 318, 320, 322–24, 325, 332, 343, 354n3, 360, 364, 366, 371, 379; Magnolia Terrace, 306; “ordering” of archives, 169–70; Palace Writers, 24, 31, 48, 56n44, 73, 78, 79, 85, 106, 123, 126, 136, 137, 139, 151, 164–68, 183, 184, 192, 193, 213, 281, 292, 293, 297n50, 298, 301, 302–4, 306, 312, 320, 323, 332, 343, 358, 362, 363, 364, 365, 366, 367–68, 371, 372n45; reform


of, 285; as “Santai 三台” offices, 166; store-rooms, 183, 186, 214, 230, 232; Tang approaches (see separate heading Historiography: Tang, below); in Wei era, 306, 364; writing offices, 123; in Wu (state), 170, 328n117; Xun Xu and, 122, 123, 193, 285, 292, 293, 300, 302–4, 325–34, 345, 358, 366, 368; Zhang Hua and, 325–34, 345, 372 historiography, primary sources: Basic Annals of Jin Wendi, 113, 123n3; Basic Annals of Jin Wudi, 114; biezhuan 別傳, 27, 28–29, 68; court memorials, 229; Chunqiu 春秋, 317; Hanshu 漢書, 174, 185, 197, 214, 240n28, 343 (see also Ban Gu); Hou Hanshu 後漢 書, 27, 53, 235n20; jiazhuan 家傳, 27, 28, 112; Jinshu 晉書, 27, 31, 36, 94–95, 111–18, 120, 126, 128, 132, 133, 152, 161, 162, 164, 177, 189–90, 191, 197, 198, 203, 204n116, 207, 269, 271, 275, 279, 292, 294, 301, 302, 305, 319, 322, 323, 331, 334, 335n131, 339, 344, 352, 353–54, 354n3, 360–61, 362, 364, 365, 368, 373–74; Jiu Tangshu 舊唐書, 270n89, 319; loss of, 257, 354; on music, 128, 130, 133; register of language in, 229, 231; revision of, 313, 365–67; on science, 258; Sanguo zhi 三國志, 329; Shangshu 尚書, 197, 267n76, 287n21, 288n25, 315, 357, 366; Shiben 世本, 340, 341, 344; Songshi 宋史, 343; Songshu 宋書, 31, 114, 126, 131, 156, 182, 187, 189, 216, 228–65, 342, 369 (see also Shen Yue); Suishu 隋書, 115, 128, 162, 189, 191–92, 198, 203, 204n116, 231, 246, 267n76, 306, 308–9, 316, 319; technical dialogs, 229, 342; treatises, standard-history, 27, 71, 72, 111–12, 177, 258, 313; wenji 文集, 27, 112, 229, 294, 295n28, 310, 342, 379; Xin Tangshu 新唐書, 270n87; xingzhuang 行狀 (accounts of conduct), 4, 10, 77, 275; Xu Hanshu 續漢書, 329 historiography, Tang scholars’ approach to: 94n10, 111–18, 120, 152, 155, 157, 161, 162, 177, 197, 203–6, 207, 285, 290n27, 292, 311, 317n96, 325, 329, 336, 340, 353–54, 364. See also Historiography, primary sources: Jinshu Holcombe, Charles, 15n23 Holzman, Donald, 8–9, 12n20, 136n32, 269 Hou Hanshu 後漢書. See under Historiography, primary sources



Hou Wailu 侯外盧, 18 Hu Zhao 胡昭 (162–250), 169, 170–71 Hua He 華覈, 328n117 Hua Qiao 華嶠 (b. ca. 235–40; d. 293), 323, 326 (Tbl. 5), 331, 333, 334, 365–67 Hua Yi 華廙 (d. ca. 291–92), 327 (Tbl. 5), 328, 332, 347n160, 365 Huainan zi. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Huangfu Mi 皇甫謐 (215–82), 258, 324, 328n117, 340, 348, 359, 380 Huangzhong 黃鐘 (or Yellow Bell, pitchstandard 1). See under Musicology Imperial Academy, 167, 182, 331, 353, 354n3 Imperial Library. See under Historiography, offices institutions, 102; revision of, 71 intellectual discussion and coteries, 54 (Fig. 2), 60, 65, 66–69, 85, 98, 99– 100, 111, 122, 285, 352, 380. See also Xuanxue: coteries Ji Liankang 吉聯抗, 233n15 Ji Tomb 汲冢, 25, 26, 280, 285; access to materials (see under Historiography, offices); Bamboo Annals (see separate heading Bamboo Annals); discovery and recovery of items in, 290, 296–98, 313, 315, 322; metrology, 299–300, 369; Mu Tianzi zhuan 穆天 子傳, 293, 294–301, 295n39, 298n52, 309, 312, 317, 324, 340, 344; objects found in, 188 (Tbl. 2), 188–90, 197, 198, 369; texts, cataloging, 308; texts, ignored, 370; texts, transcription of, 299, 301, 308–9, 312, 317, 329, 360, 361, 368; texts, transmission of, 291, 294–96, 295n40, 317n96; Xu Xian and, 319; Xun Xu’s role in investigating, 32, 162, 169, 292–94, 298, 308–9, 324–25, 337, 340, 342, 352, 360, 380. See also Antiquarianism; Jijun; see also under Du Yu; Scholarship, commentary; Shu Xi; Sima Biao; Wang/Fu Zan; Wei Heng; Zhi Yu Jia Chong 賈充 (217–282), 45n9, 83, 96 (Tbl. 1), 97, 99, 101, 102, 105–6, 109, 110, 111, 119, 137, 266, 276, 279, 294, 301, 302, 303, 314n88, 359, 362, 371. See under Factions Jia Kui 賈逵 (30–101 ad), 248 Jia Mi 賈謐 (d. 300). See Factions: Zhang Hua ambit and Factions:

Twenty-four Friends; see also under Historiography Jia Nanfeng 賈南風 (d. 300), 83, 107–8, 108n33, 111, 116n56, 137, 282, 314, 321, 359, 364, 371, 374 Jian’an Masters 建安七子, 269 Jiankang, 353, 354n3. See also Nanjing (Jiankang) tomb jiazhuan 家傳. See under Historiography, primary sources Jijun 汲郡 (or Ji commandery), 111, 197, 290, 292, 296–99, 311, 313, 315, 321 Jin dynasty. See Sima family Jin Huidi 惠帝 (Sima Zhong 司馬衷, 260–307; appointed heir 267; r. 290– 307), 76, 78, 83, 107–8, 108n33, 110, 168, 281, 282, 286, 314, 322, 332, 362, 366, 373 Jin Wendi 文帝 (Sima Zhao 司馬昭, 211–65), 42, 63, 73, 79, 82, 83, 331; and Chen Xie, 347n160; death, 108; and rites, 354; and Xun Xu, 98, 103–4; in Zhengshi reign, 93 Jin Wudi 武帝 (Sima Yan 司馬炎, 235–90; r. 266–90), 42, 62, 64, 77, 80, 83, 93, 95, 100–2, 107–8, 109, 321; and Chen Xie, 347n160; criticism of, 100n15; and Feng Dan; 111; and historiography offices, 167, 318, 322, 325; judgment of former Wei officials, 119, 274; and music, 133, 179, 181, 182–83, 205; and princes, 283; and Xun Xu, 116, 279, 293–94, 363, 368 Jing Fang 京房 (d. 37 bc), 11, 11n18, 43, 52, 53–55, 192n79, 246, 255, 265, 381 Jingzhou 荊州, 16, 17n27, 109 Jinshu 晉書. See under Historiography, primary sources Junyangling 峻陽陵, 34 (Map), 42 Karlgren, B., 255n54 Keightley, David N., 171 Kern, Martin, 208 Kibi no Makibi 吉備真備 (695?–775), 233n15 Knechtges, David R., 95, 99, 118, 288n25, 307–8, 307n70, 372n45 Kong Rong 孔融 (153–208), 56 Kong Yingda 孔穎達 (574–648), 197n92, 317n96 Lam, Joseph, 211 Laozi (person), 149 Laozi (text). See under Scholarship, commentary

index law: bureaucratic regulations, 106; codes and revision thereof, 105, 106, 115n54, 119, 121, 122, 123, 125, 139, 266, 284, 314, 328, 346, 355n7; under Han Gaozu and Xiao He, 115n54; publication of, 137; study of, 43, 70–71, 318. See also under Xun family legend and legendizing. See under Historiography; Literature; Memory; Ruan Ji; Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove; Shishuo xinyu; Xun Xu legists. See Law: study of legitimacy, political, 94, 105, 105n27, 118, 120, 152, 153, 155, 219, 265, 308, 335–36, 338, 344, 374, 375, 382 Lei Cizong 雷次宗, 193, 193n81 Li Chong 李充 (Eastern Jin), 307 Li Chunfeng 李淳風 (602–70), 115, 118, 128, 162, 176, 180, 184, 185, 187, 189, 190–91, 192n80, 193, 194, 195, 197– 206, 258, 268, 275, 290n27, 349, 369; opinion of Xun Xu, 203–6. See also under Historiography, Tang scholars’ approach to Li Daoyuan 酈道元 (d. 587), 336 Li Si 李斯, 24, 381 Li Ying 李膺 (d. 169), 46, 47, 49n25, 84, 314n88 Li, Wai-Yee, 88 Lie He 列和 (fl. 230–75): cooperation with Xun Xu on flute construction, 216, 217, 230, 231, 234, 235, 240–46, 250, 251–54, 257–58, 262, 289; expertise, 236; on performance, 247, 251–54; record of dialog with Xun Xu, 342, 370; on scales and modes, 241n34, 263; social position of, 235n19; and Wei-court ensembles, 156–57, 251–52, 254; Xun Xu’s opinion of, 241, 242–43 Lien, Y. Edmund, 31, 258, 261 Liji (and Yili). See under Scholarship, on individual classics Ling Tingkan 凌廷堪 (1757–1809), 249n44 Linghu Defen 令狐徳棻, 114 linguistic transcendence. See under Xuanxue literature and literary analysis: ancient, 87, 146, 376; catalogs of (see Scholarship, arts and methods); “Choreographed Chant for Jin’s ‘Just Potency’ (‘Zhengde’),” 140–50, 153, 156; com-


petitions, 149 (see also under Lyrics); as court concern, 130; “daoistic” thought, 19, 24, 24n38, 66, 139, 148, 153, 320, 375, 376; and faction, 107; “A Feasting Poem for a Gathering with Wudi at Hualin Park,” 287–90; genres, 7, 7n9, 12, 28, 30, 125, 126n9, 143, 146, 155, 158, 294, 307, 324, 376; history of, 309–11; intimacy, new ideal of, 375, 378–80; line length, 128, 134–35, 139, 247; and paper, invention of, 377; poetry (shi), 52, 151, 286, 287, 373; political implications, 154, 286; prosody, 10, 23, 30, 70, 87, 128, 141–47, 247, 263, 381; register, 377; rhyme schemes, 143–44, 143nn60–61, 145–46, 147; in rites and ritual, 92; yuefu 樂府, 12, 23, 27, 30, 31, 146, 156 (see also Musicology: yuefu); etc. See also Historiography and under Xun Xu Liu 劉, Lady (d. 304; wife of Xun Yue 荀 岳), 75, 76, 80, 82 Liu family 劉 of Donghai 東海, 75, 79. See also Liu, Lady Liu Fang 劉放 (d. 250) and Sun Zi 孫 資 (d. 251); see under Factions; also see Historiography, offices Liu Gong 劉恭, 181n49, 182, 187, 213, 214, 326 (Tbl. 5) Liu Hui 劉徽 (fl. 250s–260s), 177, 185, 194, 199, 202, 206, 258 Liu Jingfu 劉靜夫, 39 Liu Rulin, 7, 7n10, 328 Liu Shao 劉邵 (d. after 240), 71, 284. See also under Law: study of Liu Xiang (79–8 bc), 126n9, 169, 170, 312n84 Liu Xin 劉歆 (46 bc–23 ad), 194, 195, 255–56, 307, 309 Liu Xiu 劉秀, 233, 234, 240, 250, 252–53, 254, 326 (Tbl. 5) Liu Yi 劉毅 (ca. 210–85), 80, 100n15, 133n25 Liu Yiqing 劉義慶 (402–44), 266–67, 273 Liu Zhiji 劉知幾 (661–721), 367 Liu-Song dynasty, 150, 182 lixue 理學 and daoxue 道學, 13, 15 Lu Ji 陸機 (261–303), 141n47, 327 (Tbl. 5), 333, 372, 373n46 Lu Kanru, 7, 328 Lu Qinli, 7n9, 286, 287 lü 律 (pitch-regulators). See under Musicology



lülü 呂律 (pitch-standards). See under Musicology Lunyu. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Luo Zhenyu 羅振玉 (1866–1940), 76 Luoyang 洛陽 (雒陽), 13, 17n27, 18–19, 25, 37, 38, 40, 41, 42, 46, 48, 55, 57–58, 59, 64, 65, 68, 73, 75, 76, 81, 82, 123, 127, 134, 136, 216, 236, 271, 281, 298, 318, 319, 321, 332, 333, 346–47, 382; Fenzhuang 墳莊, 42, 76; Luo–Yi river system, 41, 42, 83; Mang Hills 芒山, 25, 41–42, 76, 83; Pantun 槃屯, 76. See also Natural disasters Lustration Festival, 286, 289 lyrics: Chenggong Sui and, 328; competitions, 128, 133–50, 153, 380; conformity to existing music, 134–35; Fu Xuan and, 147, 153, 283, 285, 377; in Liu-Song dynasty, 150; and political philosophy, 142n56; as propaganda or ideology, 142n56, 146–47, 148, 150; reform of, 133, 150, 153, 283, 328; as ritual, 250; by Ruan Xian, 270; selfreferentiality, 143–45; types of, 127, 146, 255n54; Xun Xu and, 140–47, 210, 263, 285, 288, 328; Zhang Hua and, 147–49, 328. See also Musicology: names of songs; Literature: prosody Ma Guohan, 192n80 Ma Heng 馬衡, 194–96, 198, 202 Ma Jun 馬鈞 (fl. 230s–240s), 258 Ma Rong 馬融 (79–166), 46, 381 Makeham, John, 16–17, 17n28, 20 mandate, dynastic, 144, 147, 155 Mao Shuang 毛爽 (Sui-era), 198 marriage, 102, 104, 109, 110n39, 302, 314, 355, 355n8 Masters of Writing, 126, 164, 166, 314, 322, 331, 347, 354, 354n3, 355, 358, 367–68, 380 mathematics. See Calendar; Philosophy: mathematics; Philosophy: shushu arts Mather, Richard, 6, 267, 270n88 Mawangdui (archeological site), 222n3, 234 medicine, 258, 262, 348, 360 memory, 84–88, 87n113, 237–38 Mencius, 377 Meow Hui Goh, 287n18 metrology: archeological determinations of, 175–76 (for E. Zhou), 177 (for Qin and W. and early E. Han), 196 (for Three Kingdoms, Eastern

Jin, and Sixteen Kingdoms); and architecture, 172, 173, 203, 207; and astronomy, 360; chi 尺 (foot-rule or standard-rule), 23, 25–26, 31, 72, 85, 171, 175–77, 190, 192; chi, changes to, 177, 180, 181, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 191, 196, 199, 201–3, 205–8, 214; chi, Eastern Han elongation of, 177, 181, 183, 186, 187, 202, 207; chi, “Former Jin” or “New Jin” (Xun Xu’s), 184, 191, 192–94, 195, 198, 199, 200, 200n100, 203, 205–6, 210, 213, 225, 244, 260, 265, 268, 296, 299–300, 324, 347–49; chi, “Han Officialdom’s,” 201, 205; chi, “Latter Jin,” 199, 202–3; chi, “Wei” or “modern-day” (Du Kui’s), 193, 202, 206, 234, 300; chi, “Zhou” (so called by Li Chunfeng), 198, 201–2; and coinage, 175, 184, 192, 194, 196, 207; cong-tubes, 171; differing standards for different spheres of activity, 173–74, 196, 206, 207–8; Du Kui and, 179, 192, 193, 202, 203, 213, 214; Du Yu and, 319; early history, 171–75; and Eastern Han era, 184, 186, 192, 197, 202, 214; “embodied” and “disembodied,” 171–72, 174, 176, 211; grain-based, 171–72, 173, 180, 182, 185; Liang-era reforms, 200n100; materials (jade, bronze, etc.) for devices, 199–201; and medicine, 360; as “metrosophy,” 214, 348; and music, 164, 207, 215, 245, 360 (see also Musicology: pitch-regulators; Musicology: pitch-standards); “New Rule 新 尺” (defined, 191; otherwise see Metrology: chi, “Former Jin”); purposes of, 207–12; and ritual, 174, 206, 207, 250; and rulership, 174; scale-sticks, 186; social effects of, 348; Songera scholarship on, 194–95; Sumerian, 172; Tang-era, 115, 196, 275; and taxation, 203, 208; and textiles, 196, 200–1; and trade, 175, 206, 207; volume measures, 185, 186, 195, 213; and Wang Mang-era, 184, 186, 193, 194, 195–96, 202; Western, 172–73, 174, 207; Xun Xu and, 23, 25–26, 31, 70, 85, 115, 117, 119, 140, 159, 161, 162, 175–96, 203, 205, 213, 215, 265, 319, 347–49 (see also Metrology: chi, “Former Jin”); Xun Yi and, 161; Zhi Yu and, 324, 347–49; Zhou-era, 177, 184, 202 metrosophy. See under Metrology military affairs, 98, 102, 119, 159, 165,

index 281–82, 284, 285, 286, 314, 318, 332, 347, 354n3, 361n21. See also Wu War Mixian 密縣, 46 Mount Song 嵩山 (or Songgao 嵩高 山), 41; archeological discovery on, 322n107 mourning. See Death Mu Tianzi zhuan. See under Ji Tomb music bureaus. See Musicology: court offices of musicology and music: accompaniment, 247–49; adornment, 154; aesthetics, 208, 215, 216, 217, 225; “ancient,” 243; beat-keeper, 255; bells, 6, 56, 129, 131, 133, 134, 135, 147, 171, 177, 178, 179, 181n48, 182, 184, 185, 189–90, 197, 200, 204, 217, 218, 219, 222, 234–35, 239, 244, 247–48, 252–53, 268, 290n27, 331, 348, 368, 369, 380; bitonality, 215; bridge (musical section), 145; and change of dynasty, 130; chants (ge 哥), 132, 133; “corrupt” (Zheng), 129–30; court offices of, 126, 134, 159, 163–64, 180, 182, 183, 187, 208, 213, 236, 243, 250, 251, 253, 332; classical verse songs (shi 詩), 132, 210; correctness, 208, 209, 260; Dalü pitch-standard, 246, 249, 250, 254, 264 (see also Musicology: pitch-standards); dance, 126, 141n48, 143–44, 146, 147, 148, 153, 157, 180, 254n50; definition of, 2n6; Du Kui and, 150, 179, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 233, 234, 244, 268, 331, 369, 380; early instruments, 70, 138n37, 204, 225–26, 238–39 (see also Antiquarianism: objects, found); Eight Timbres, 180, 182, 239; and ethics, 217; and factions, 136–40; feasting, 131, 132, 144, 146, 252; “foreign” music, 129, 131; Han-era, 222; hemiola, 159; high music, 56, 70, 125, 129, 240; historiography on, 128, 130, 132–33, 135, 140, 152, 153, 158, 162, 180, 231; Huangzhong pitch-standard, 140n44, 171, 183, 184, 184n55, 209, 209n121, 215, 220, 221 (Figs. 6A–C), 223, 227, 234n18, 254, 257, 261, 263–64, 270 (see also Musicology: pitch-standards); instruments, 70, 131, 135, 139, 164, 210, 243, 248, 250, 251, 260, 263–65, 270 (see also Flute; Musicology: bells; Musicology: early instruments); Japanese, 130, 217, 227, 233n15, 242, 246; in Jin era, 135, 151; in Jin Huidi’s court, 366;

405 “key,” 145–46; in Korean court, 130; legendary, 197; “light,” 129, 131, 133, 146, 147, 149, 155, 157, 179; in LiuSong court, 150; lyric pieces 辭, 132, 133; lyrics (see Lyrics); martial implications, 133, 141n48, 141n50, 143; memorization, 237–38; and metaphysics, 267n76; modes, 215, 216, 218–19, 223–25, 235–36, 237–38, 241n34, 245, 259, 263–65; and mourning, 56, 181n48; mystical qualities, 236n21; names of modes, 247, 254; names of notes, pitch-standards, etc., 220, 223, 234, 241n34, 251, 254, 261; names of songs, etc., 94, 130, 131, 150, 152; and New Year’s Day, 127–28, 132, 156, 267; Northern Song, 211; notation (see Musicology: tablature); octave, 219–20; orthodoxy, 146, 244n36, 245, 246, 249, 257; pedagogy, 237; pentatonic (five-note) scale, 139, 223, 227, 239, 244n36, 255, 256; performance, 31, 129, 130, 141n48, 143, 147, 151, 154, 190, 208, 209, 218, 224, 236, 238, 240, 243, 246, 247, 254–55, 254n50, 255 (director of ), 256, 263, 267, 271, 275; and physics, 260; pitch distortions, 259–65; pitch-regulators (lü 律), 70, 128, 164, 174, 176, 177, 179, 180n47, 182–83, 185, 186, 189, 190, 192, 197, 200, 203, 204, 211, 213, 214, 215, 218, 222–23, 233, 234, 235, 237–38, 241n34, 242, 243, 244, 245, 252, 290n27, 347–48, 369, 370; pitch-regulators, materials for (bamboo, jade, etc.), 197, 203, 204–6, 209, 209n121, 222n3, 225, 233, 233n15, 237, 239n25; pitchregulators and pitch-standards distinguished, 219; pitch-standards (lülü 呂律; arrayed, 221 Figs. 6A-C), 6, 23, 47n9, 56, 133, 134, 139, 164, 175, 180, 184, 185, 190, 192n79, 209, 211, 215, 217–18, 219–22, 231, 233, 241n34, 246, 248, 249, 250, 252, 254, 255, 256, 257, 259, 261, 263–64, 265, 268, 289, 331; political implications, 154, 205, 208, 219, 237, 268, 272; Qingjue 清 角 scale, 257, 264; reform of, 117, 157, 266, 275 (see also Xun Xu: and musicology); register (e.g., high, low, ritual, entertainment, etc.), 127–33, 146–48, 149, 153, 156, 158, 179, 210, 264; and religions, 209, 210–11; reproducibility, 256; rhythm, 159, 249, 381; in rites and ritual, 92, 117, 133–50,



209, 211, 265; Ruibin pitch-standard, 249, 256, 370 (see also Musicology: pitch-standards); sanfen sunyi [fa] 三 分損益 [法] (“[Method of ] Adding and Subtracting in Thirds,” or cycleof-fifths), 220, 240, 249, 258, 259–60; scales, in general, 121, 139, 157, 208, 218, 219, 223–25, 227, 230, 235, 239, 241n34, 242, 246, 256; and scholarship, 179–80; seven-note scale (see separate heading Musicology, sevennote scales, below); and shushu arts, 217; social effects of, 154, 205, 255, 268; sounding-stones (lithophones), 134, 147, 181n48, 189–90, 200, 222, 248, 252–53, 268, 348, 369; supernatural effects of, 267n76; tablatures and notation, 130, 208; Tang-era, 130, 227, 242; technical writing on, 27; and temples, 131; testing of pitches, 183–84, 184n55, 190, 215, 223, 234, 242, 250–53, 262, 265, 347, 369; tonality (sense of “key” or coloration), 145–46; transposition, 223, 237, 238–39, 247; tunes (qu 曲), 132, 133, 157, 219; venues, 131–32, 133, 150, 156; Wang Mang-era, 197; in Wei court, 130–31; Western, 161, 210–11, 214, 219, 220, 238, 259, 351; and women, 131; Wuyi pitch-standard, 247–48, 254 (see also Musicology: pitch-standards); xianghe 相和, 129; and xuanxue, 87; and Yijing, 269; yuefu 樂府 (entertainment or party music) 129, 130, 131–32, 152, 155, 157, 236 (see also Literature: yuefu); and Zhengshi reign-era, 118; Zhou-era, 197, 200, 219, 241n34. See also under Cao Cao; Cao Pi; Xun family musicology, seven-note scales (arrayed, 221 Fig. 6C), 29, 35, 56n45, 87, 154, 218, 221, 226, 227, 241n34, 255; as “ornate,” 131, 244n36; note names: 351 (biangong 變宮), 161 (bianzhi 變徵), 35, 121, 161, 239, 239n26 (gong 宮), 121, 239n26 (jue 角), 91, 121, 239n26 (shang 商), 91, 139, 239n26, 279 (yu 羽), 91, 121, 139, 215, 231, 239n26, 279 (zhi 徵); Xiazhi 下徵 scale or mode, 224, 244, 246, 249, 257, 263; Zhengsheng 正聲 scale or mode, 23, 29, 31, 157, 161, 216, 223–25, 238, 244, 245, 246, 247, 249, 257, 263–64 mystery school. See Xuanxue

Nanjing (Jiankang) tomb archeological discoveries, 273–75, 277 natural disasters, 25, 41, 78–79, 78n86, 83, 83n109, 346 nature. See under Philosophy Needham, Joseph, 6 “New Rites,” 106. See also Rites: revision of; see also under Xun Yi; Zhi Yu New Year’s Day, 127–28, 132 Ng, Kwok Wai, 246 nianpu 年普 (vertical chronologies). See under Historiography nihilism. See under Xuanxue Niu Hong 牛弘 (545–610), 231, 246, 247, 311n84 Nivison, David S., 291, 292, 345 Niwa Taiko 丹羽兌子, 39 nobility, grants and titles of, 103, 104–5, 110, 121, 122, 266, 274, 281, 282, 283n8, 284, 293, 315, 331, 339, 355n8 notes (yin 音 or sheng 聲). See under Musicology, seven-note scales: note names Pan Tao 潘滔 (d. 311), 361 Pan Xu 潘勗 (d. 215), 50–51 Pan Yue 潘岳 (247–300) 347 paper, invention of, 377 Pei Hui 裴徽 (fl. 230–50), 58, 59, 61 Pei Kai 裴楷 (237–91), 326–27 (Tbl. 5), 328, 329 Pei Songzhi 裴松之 (372–451), 311, 363n24 Pei Wei裴頠 (267–300), 87, 360 Pei Xiu 裴秀 (224–71), 70, 97 (Tbl. 1), 100, 104, 106, 108, 122, 151, 258, 266, 279, 281, 285 Pei Yin 裴駰 (fifth-century), 296n45, 342 pentatonic scale (five-note scale). See under Musicology Petrov, A. A., 17n27 philosophy and systematic thought: apocrypha, 15, 18, 20, 21, 53n39; astronomy and astrology, 43, 94, 102, 115, 162–63, 182, 203, 206, 207, 209, 233n15, 241n34, 317, 339, 345, 347–48, 360, 366; Buddhism, 21, 27, 182; calendar and calendrics, 87, 94, 102, 121, 163, 173, 229, 265, 317, 335, 337, 345, 357, 359, 370, 374; “clear mindedness” (qingxin 清心), 284; Confucianism and Confucian ritual, 3, 15, 16, 19, 20, 39, 60, 153, 154, 182, 208, 216, 274,

index 376; Confucianism, reform of, 24; as court concern, 130; Daoism, 10, 15, 16, 21, 27, 65, 93n4, 153, 159, 196, 275, 279; Daoism, Yellow Emperor, 154; “daoistic” thought (see under Literature); dualism, 18, 65, 66, 153; Eight Trigrams, 21; epistemology, 66, 148, 348; Five Phases, 265; and lyrics of ritual songs, 142n56; mathematics, 177, 182, 185, 192, 194, 203, 204, 206, 207, 213, 217, 219, 229, 240, 258, 259, 262, 284, 284n10, 370, 380; and metrology, 214, 348; modern, 15n26; and music, 348; nature and natural philosophy, 86; neo-Daoism, 15; non-knowing, 148; ontology, 66; physics, 260; pi (π, mathematical constant), 185; political, 142n56; positivism, 154–55, 276; qi, 209n121 (see also Musicology: qi); sciences, 11, 212–14; shushu 數術 arts, 3n6, 15, 21, 53–55, 136, 163, 203, 217, 265, 339, 366, 380; Song thought, 13, 15; spirits, 86, 148, 267n76, 354, 357; Taixuan (see under Xuanxue); technologies, 11, 214; There-is-not 無 (and There-is) (see under Xuanxue); Xun Xu’s approach to, 13; Yijing, 3, 5, 15, 25, 43, 51n33, 53, 57, 59, 67–68, 80n95, 217, 240, 265, 287nn19–20 (see also under Scholarship, commentary; Xun family; Xun Shuang; Xun Xu). See also Prisca Zhou; Xuanxue Pi Xirui 皮錫瑞 (1850–1908), 16, 16n26 Picken, Laurence, 217, 241n34, 254 pitch-regulators. See Musicology: pitchregulators plays (theater), 144n62 politics. See Factions; Precision: politics of; Rites: as politics; Sima family: succession crisis; Wu War portraiture. See under Xun Xu poverty, rhetoric of, 55, 64, 84 precision, 85; aesthetics of, 24, 174, 187, 347; correctness (see under Musicology); critique of, 139; as critique of shushu and xuanxue, 265; and medicine, 348; obsessive scholarly approach to, 24, 159, 265, 382; and poetry, 70; politics of, 3–4, 23–24, 120, 265, 377; purposes of, 211, 216; reproducibility, 256; ritual, 245; Shun as patron of, 201; social effects of, 348; and time, 127. See also Prisca Zhou Pretorius, Michael (1571–1621), 210–11,


211n123, 214 prisca antiqua. See also Antiquity, primordial; Prisca Zhou prisca theologia, 22, 23–24, 210 prisca Zhou: critiques of, 33; and music, 250, 259, 262, 263, 265; as technique, 24; the term, 22; tetrameter shi 詩 and, 23; versus prisca antiqua, 33, 374–80 (see also Antiquity, primordial); in Wang Mang court, 121, 177; as Xun Xu’s ideal and agenda, 22, 33, 94, 121, 127, 136, 157, 159, 174, 177, 196, 198, 209–10, 216, 259, 262, 263, 281, 338, 344–46, 347, 352, 371, 374–80; Xun Yi and, 359; Zhou “restoration,” 121. See also Duke of Zhou prognostication. See Philosophy: shushu arts prosody. See under Literature; Xun Xu prosopographies. See under Historiography pure stream, 49n25, 53 “pure talk,” 86. See also Xuanxue Qiao Zhou 譙周 (b. ca. 199; d. 270), 329, 338–40 qingtan 清談. See “Pure talk” Qu Yong 瞿鏞, 295 recruitment of scholars. See under Cao Cao; Sima family regulator. See Musicology: pitch-regulators Ren Kai 任愷, 301, 326 (Tbl. 5), 328, 329, 354 rhyme. See under Literature rites and ritual: and aesthetics, 174; codes, 105; and faction, 107; Five Rites (or Wuli), 354, 355, 359; as political, 174; reform of, 73, 93, 94, 105, 115n54, 122, 210, 266, 328, 354–55, 375 (see also under Zhi Yu: criticism of Xun Yi’s Rites); scholars and study of, 3, 70, 72. See also “New Rites”; and see under Literature; Musicology; Philosophy: calendar; and Philosophy: Confucianism Ruan Hun 阮渾 (fl. 260–85), 269 Ruan Ji 阮籍 (210–63): and antiquity, 380; biographies of, 8–9, 269; and Confucianism, 154; and kuangda 曠達 group, 14n21; and music, 153–55, 212; reception in legend, 3, 266; and Sima rule, 271; and xuanxue, 154; and Xun Yi, 67; and Zhang Hua, 136. See also



Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove Ruan Xian 阮咸 (for dates see 270n88), 24; criticism of Xun Xu by, 32, 154, 204–6, 216, 265–75; and historiography, 328n117; pipa named for, 270n87; reception in legend, 272–77 Ruan Xiaoxu 阮孝緒 (479–536), 307n72 Ruan Yu 阮瑀 (d. 212), 269 Ruan Yuan 阮元 (1764–1848), 195 Ruibin 蕤賓 (pitch-standard 7). See under Musicology Runan 汝南, 40, 42n12, 43, 98, 98n13 sages, 58–59, 66, 153, 284, 348, 353, 356; sage-identity, 93 Sangfu. See under Scholarship, on individual classics scholars: careers, 151, 367; recruitment of (see under Cao Cao; Sima family); social position of, 212 scholarship, arts and methods of: anthologies (leishu 類書), 306n67; archives (see under Historiography); catalogs, 158, 169, 232, 292, 295, 309, 310, 311–12, 324, 334, 368 (see also the subheading Jin Palace Classics Register in this heading); color-coding of catalogs, 300, 307, 308, 312; compilations, 232; debate, 37–38, 52, 60, 65, 85, 122; Du Kui’s perceived level of, 179–80, 180n43, 187, 203, 213; guwen 古文, 10, 13, 16, 21, 27; Jin Palace Classics Register, 293, 297n50, 299, 305–12, 334, 342; logic games, 18; obsession toward (or, precision as criterion), 3, 21, 24–25, 33, 375, 380 (see also under Xun Xu); paleography, 281, 313–19, 324–25, 336, 362, 377, 380 (see also Calligraphy); reading, 376; sibu 四部 system, 306–8; specialization, 163. See also Historiography: changes in methods; Xun Xu: research methods scholarship, commentary (and commentators): on Bamboo Annals, 312n84, 342, 343–44; changes in, 338; Classic of Zixia, 356; classicist ideals associated with, 86, 129, 156, 158, 170, 270, 359; on Confucian classics, 16, 17, 36, 53, 98, 310, 356, 377; definition of, 53; Du Yu (see under Du Yu); editors /annotators of Bamboo Annals besides Xun Xu (see under He Qiao; Sima Biao; Shu Xi; Wang/Fu Zan; Wei Heng); exegetical meth-

ods, 17n27, 30, 55, 65, 75, 313, 362; on Gongyang, 360–61, 362; Great Treatise, 217; on Guanzi 管子, 117; on Guoyu, 241n34, 247, 248; on Hanshu, 304; hermeneutics, 16, 16–17nn27–28, 20; “hidden talents,” 106; on Laozi, 15, 20, 24n38, 51n32, 275, 312n84; on musicological texts, 231; necessity of, 356; on Sangfu, 355–56, 358; on Shiji, 304, 336, 340; on Shishuo xinyu, 2n3, 201; techniques of, 16, 17, 248n42, 362, 377; Ten Wings, 15, 55, 66; Tradition of Zixia, 356; uses of, 26, 353–65; on Xiaojing, 122, 312n84; on Xun Xu’s flute-construction guide, 257, 259, 263; on Yijing, 5, 15, 20, 39, 43, 45n9, 49, 52–55, 57, 65, 86, 149, 217, 269, 270, 354n3, 370; on Zhouli, 185, 214, 254, 359; on Zhuangzi, 20; Zuozhuan 左傳, 87, 217, 287n22, 292, 317, 360–61, 362, 378. See also under Xun family; Xun Shuang; Xun Xu; Zhi Yu scholarship, on individual classics: Five Classics, 317; Guoyu 國語, 176, 231, 241n34, 257, 315–16, 370; Huainan zi 淮南子, 222; Liji 禮記, 142n57, 239n26, 240, 240n28, 255, 268, 356, 370; Lunyu 論語, 66–67; Sangfu 喪 服 (Mourning Vestments), 355–56, 358; Shiji 史記, 43, 222, 296n45, 297, 301, 332, 337–46; Shijing 詩經, 80n93, 116, 135, 152, 287n19, 288n24, 376; Shujing 書經 (or Shangshu 尚書), 51, 142n55, 255, 288n25; Xiaojing 孝經, 122; Yijing 易經, 142n54; Zhouli 周禮, 175, 176, 180, 182, 185, 252, 255, 357; Zhuangzi 莊子, 15, 20n34, 21, 24n38, 236n21, 275 sciences. See under Philosophy self-control, 146 self-cultivation, 93 Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove: aesthetics of, 154; criticism of scholars by, 100; criticism of Xun Xu by, 1, 24, 154–55, 216; and music, 139; and politics, 275; portraits of, 125, 272–77; reception in legend, 3, 216, 272–73, 277; and xuanxue, 13, 68. See also Ruan Xian; Shan Tao Shan Tao 山濤 (205–83), 96 (Tbl. 1), 108, 122n2, 154, 216, 270–71, 272–77, 314n88 shangfang 尚方. See under Artisans Shang Jun 商均, 116 Shao Dongfang 邵東方, 291, 341

index Shaughnessy, Edward, 17n27, 280, 290n27, 291, 293, 294, 295nn38–39, 296, 296nn44–45, 297nn48–51, 300, 305n65, 312n85, 317, 321, 324, 325n15, 333n127, 336, 337, 338, 342n150, 344, 345–46, 352 Shen Yue 沈約 (441–513), 114, 126, 128, 130, 131, 132, 133, 135, 140, 144, 146, 152, 155, 156, 157, 159, 228, 230–32, 251, 256, 257, 312n84, 342. See also Historiography, primary sources: Songshu Shentu Pan 申屠蟠 (d. ca. 194), 212 shi 詩 poetry. See Literature: poetry Shi Le, 113n48 Shiji. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Shijing. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Shiping 始平: archeological discoveries in, 200, 201, 204–6, 268, 269 Shishuo xinyu 世說新語: commentary on (see under Scholarship, commentary); and Confucianism, 3; legendizing, 114, 201, 205, 266–69, 271; omissions from, 14; style of critique, 1, 2, 4, 378 (see also Prisca Zhou: Prisca antiqua); and Xun Can, 61; on Xun Xu, 114, 124, 302 Shu (state), 103, 109, 121, 283, 329, 330, 339 Shu Xi 束皙 (ca. 263–ca. 302): and calligraphy and paleography, 322; criticism of Xun Xu, 332, 352, 373n46; and “daoistic” thought, 376; as an editor/ annotator of Bamboo Annals (via Wei Heng), 325, 325n115, 345; and historiography, 113, 325, 345, 372, 374, 375–76; and historiography offices, 327 (Tbl. 5), 333; and Ji Tomb, 292, 313, 315, 316, 319, 321–22, 324, 325 336, 338, 361; need for biographies of, 9; and primordial antiquity, 33, 380; and Zhang Hua, 321–22, 333, 351, 372 Shujing. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Shun Shrine: archeological discovery at, 197, 201, 203, 205; pitch-regulator found under, by Xi Jing 奚景 (W. Han), 197 shushu 數術 arts. See under Philosophy Sima Biao 司馬彪 (b. ca. 237; d. 306), 326 (Tbl. 5), 329, 332, 333, 338–40, as an editor/annotator of Bamboo An-


nals, question of, 340 Sima family and Sima dynasts, 20, 93; and bureaucratic regulations, 106; “Cao Shuang taint” (see under Cao Shuang); Chongyang ling 崇陽陵 (tomb), 42; chronology of Jin dynasty, 334–36, 370, 373; court, 25, 63, 71–72; princes, 281–85; and prisca Zhou, 23; recruitment (and culling) of scholars and officials by, 100–1, 105, 106, 119, 122, 152, 274, 283–84, 285, 314, 321, 329, 330, 339, 346, 353; succession crisis, 108n35, 281, 282, 286, 314–15, 362–64; and xuanxue,69; and Xun family (see under Xun family) Sima Liang 司馬亮, 314 Sima Lun 司馬倫 (277–301), 137, 372 Sima Mu 司馬睦, 329 Sima Qian 司馬遷, 340, 340n146, 359, 366 Sima Shi 司馬師 (208–55), 63, 71, 73, 93, 108 Sima Wei 司馬瑋, Prince of Shiping, 77, 78, 83, 314 Sima Yan. See Jin Wudi Sima Yi 司馬義 (179–251), 56, 63, 73, 92. See also under Factions Sima You 司馬攸 (248–83): claim to throne, 108, 110, 111, 279, 281–86; death, 108; refusal of noble title, 105; and Wei Heng, 315 Sima Zhao. See Jin Wendi Sima Zhen 司馬貞 (8th c.), 312n84, 336 Sima Zhong. See Jin Huidi Sima Ziwen 司馬子文, 279 sinology, Western. See Historiography: modern approaches Songshu 宋書. See under Historiography, primary sources Soper, Alexander, 124n5 spirits. See under Philosophy Spiro, Audrey, 270n88, 273–74, 274n97, 277 status, social, 154. See also Xun family: social position Straughair, Anna, 289 Sun Sheng 孫盛 (ca. 302–75), 363n24 Sun Xiu 孫休, 170 Sun Zi. See Liu Fang Tang Taizong 唐太宗, 112, 114 Tang Yongtong 湯用彤, 16, 16n26, 16– 17n27, 27



Tavernor, Robert, 174 taxation, 138, 174, 203, 208, 283 technicians and technical experts, 102, 125, 151, 153, 178, 181n49, 183, 186, 234, 247, 256, 257, 265, 285, 304, 328, 342, 344 technology. See under Philosophy; Technicians Temple of Purity (Qingmiao 清廟), 64, 64n65 Ten Wings. See under Scholarship, commentary time. See Calendar; also see under Precision Ting Pang-hsin, 143, 143n60, 145, 147 treatises, standard-history. See under Historiography, primary sources Triple Concordance 三通, 21 tuwei 圖緯 (“charts and weft-texts”), 136, 339 typology. See under Historiography Vogel, Hans Ulrich, 174, 214 voice (yin 音). See Xuanxue: Zhengshi timbre Wagner, Rudolph, 16n26, 17n27, 21 Wan Sitong 萬斯同 (1638–1702), 303n63, 328, 372n45 Wang Baoxuan 王葆玹, 19, 20, 21, 65, 66 Wang Bi 王弼 (226–49), 13, 16, 55, 58, 66, 67–68, 68n72, 69–70, 284, 354n3, 380. See also Wang–He Wang Can 王粲 (d. 217), 354 Wang Chen 王沈 (d. 267), 80, 97 (Tbl. 1), 99, 99n14 101, 104, 279, 326 (Tbl. 5), 328 Wang family 王 of Donghai 東海, 40 Wang Guowei 王國維 (1877–1927), 195 Wang Ji 王濟, 287, 366 Wang Jie 王接 (267–305), 353, 360–62, 377 Wang Lang 王郎 (d. 228), 9, 163, 166 Wang Mang 王莽 (r. 9–23 ad), 24, 121, 177, 210, 381 Wang Sengqian 王僧虔 (fl. 480s–90s), 158 Wang Su 王肅 (195–256), 9, 131, 152, 166, 168, 353, 356, 358 Wang Tingjian 王庭堅, 361, 362 Wang Yin 王隱, 169n16, 200, 311 Wang Yunxi 王運熙, 157 Wang Zichu 王子初, 233n15, 241n34, 259 Wang/Fu Zan 王/傅瓚 (fl. 270–80s), 304–5, 326 (Tbl. 5), 334, 335, 335n131, 336, 337, 343–44 , 352, 371, 373; as an

editor/annotator of Bamboo Annals, question of, 343–44 Wang–He 王何 (Wang Bi and He Yan), 1, 2, 2n5, 3, 13, 20, 21. See also He Yan; Wang Bi Wei family: and authorship of “Guwen guanshu 古文官書,” 316, 324; and calligraphy and paleography, 315, 316, 324–25; and factions, 315; and historiography offices, 319; and Xun Xu, 315. See also Wei Guan; Wei Heng; Wei Ji Wei Guan 衛瓘 (220–91), 96 (Tbl. 1); and calligraphy and paleography, 314; career, 314; death, 314, 321; and historiography, 366; recommended by Xun Xu, 103, 314; and succession crisis, 314 Wei Heng 衛恒 (d. 291): and calligraphy and paleography, 314–16; death, 314, 315, 321; as editor/annotator of Bamboo Annals (via Shu Xi), 325, 345; and historiography offices, 327 (Tbl. 5), 333; and Ji Tomb, 323–24, 325, 338, 342, 345, 351, 361; and succession crisis, 315 Wei Ji 衛覬 (fl. 200–40), 314, 314n87, 315, 354 Wei Mingdi 明帝 (r. 227–39). See Cao Rui Wei Shu 魏舒, 283n7 Wei Zhao 韋昭 (d. 273), 241n30, 248, 328n117; lyrics by, 248n42. See also Scholarship, on individual classics: Guoyu wenji. See under Historiography, primary sources Western scholars and sinologists. See Historiography: modern approaches women, 45n7, 61, 80n93, 82, 108, 131, 286, 289; “Exemplary” 列女, 125, 125n9 Wu (state), 170 Wu War (279–80), 23–24, 32, 92, 104, 107, 109–11, 119, 137, 168, 280, 283, 284, 286–90, 292, 298, 303, 313, 318, 320, 325, 332, 333, 358, 362, 380 Wuyang 舞陽, 108 Wuyi 無射 (pitch-standard 11). See under Musicology Xi Kang 嵇康 (223–62), 271, 274, 284, 380 Xiahou Xuan 夏侯玄 (209–54) 13, 59, 66, 302 Xiandi 獻帝 (Eastern Han emperor), 48, 56 Xiao He 蕭何 (d. 193 bc), 115, 115n54, 284

index Xiao Ji 蕭吉 (d. ca. 610s), 193–94, 201, 202; writings of, 193n83 Xiaojing (Classic of Filial Piety). See under Scholarship, on individual classics Xiazhi scale. See under Musicology, seven-note scales xingzhuang 行狀 (accounts of conduct). See under Historiography, primary sources Xu 許, 48, 49, 55, 57, 134 Xu Guang 徐廣 (352–425), 338 Xu Jingzong 許敬宗 (592–672), 113, 113n49, 114, 118 Xu Xian 續咸 (d. ca. 325–35), 317, 319, 325 xuanxue 玄學 and xuan, 5, 12–22, 22n37, 375; and Confucianism, 20, 60, 153; coteries, 58, 59, 148; and “daoistic” thought, 153; devotees, 15, 19, 69n74; and dualism (see Philosophy: dualism); and government, 20; and hermeneutics (difference between), 17n27; Jin dynasty’s turn from, 149, 153; levels of commitment to, 276; and linguistic transcendence, 65–66, 67, 375; Middle Way (zhongdao 中 道), 153; musicology as critique of, 87; mysterious governance (xuanhua 玄化), 153; nihilism, 15; origins, 37, 58–62, 68–69, 86–87; periodization, 13–14n21, 58; and political power, 153, 275; precision as critique of, 265; qingtan 清談, 2, 3, 13, 272; scholarship on, 26; Taixuan 太玄, 16, 268; There-is-not 無 (and There-is), 21, 65, 66, 67, 87, 148, 154, 375; the word “xuan,” 20n34; Zhengshi-era philosophy, 19, 21, 85; Zhengshi timbre 正始 之音, 13, 18, 60–61, 60n5, 68; Zhengshi timbre, “froth” model of, 17–18, 21 Xun “?” (name unknown; elder brother of Xun Shu), 40, 43 Xun Bozi 荀伯子 (378–438), 28, 28n43, 156, 159, 232, 258; and He Chengtian, 232 Xun Can biezhuan, 29, 68–69. See also Xun Can Xun Can 荀粲 (for dates see 59n50): biographies of, 365; and Cao family, 58, 59, 272; comparison of Xun Yu 荀 彧 and Xun You by, 60, 60n54; friction with Xun family, 67; influence on Xun Xu, 73; social provocations, 60–62; and women, 61; and xuanxue, 37, 58–62, 65–66, 68–69, 154, 380;


and Yijing, 66, 86 Xun Chuo 荀綽 (ca. early 300s), 28n43, 113, 113n48, 155–56, 179, 186, 189, 213 Xun family 荀 of Yingchuan (family tree, 44–45 Fig. 1): anti-Xunism, 32–33, 272, 301, 309–11, 332, 333, 334–35, 346–49, 351–65, 373, 377, 378, 380 (see also Xun Xu: critical reception); arts and skills of, 88–90 (List 1); branches of, 40; and Cao family, 49, 57, 61, 72, 87, 91, 157, 272, 346, 359; cemeteries and tombs, 25, 28, 29–30, 37, 38, 47, 57, 58, 62, 64, 75–84, 86; commemorations, 37, 57, 85, 101–2; and Confucianism, 276; conservatism among, 69, 72, 86–87; and historiography, 102, 149, 156; and historiography offices, 332; and law, 70–71, 73, 85, 122, 266, 346; and literature, 122; locales, 40–43, 57–58, 65, 72, 84–85, 123; and mourning, 101; and musicology and musicians, 56, 58, 67, 69–70, 72, 73, 87, 102, 149, 155, 156–57, 163, 215, 266; pedagogy, 37, 85–86, 102; and poetry, 155–56; reputation, 101, 161, 358; scholarly influences among, 54 (Fig. 2); scholarship of, 26, 38, 88–90, 149; scholarship on, 38–39; self-defense, 37, 40, 43, 46, 84; and Sima family, 58, 62, 63, 67, 72, 73, 75, 91, 116, 122; social position of, 72–73, 85, 91, 101, 149, 213, 382; sources for, 27–29; women, 45n7; written works of, 88–90 (List 1); and Yijing, 5, 39, 43, 45n9, 52–55, 57, 65, 85, 86, 122, 149 Xun Fan 荀藩 (245–313), 189–90, 369, 373 Xun Fei 荀棐, 91 Xun Hui 荀煇, 45n9, 65 Xun Jing 荀靖 (d. ca. 160–70), 47 Xun Jun 荀畯, 373 Xun Kai 荀愷, 363n24 Xun Liang 荀良, 365 Xun Mao 荀貌 (d. 267), 62, 101 Xun Rong 荀融 (b. ca. 216, d. after 246), 65, 67–68, 69, 86 Xun Shao 荀紹 (194–244), 62n59 Xun Shen 荀詵, 71, 73; as legist, 71, 71n77 Xun Shu 荀淑 (83–149), 39, 43–47, 57, 84; pedagogy, 43–46 Xun Shuang 荀爽 (128–90), 47–49, 91, 115n53; career, 46, 48; and commemorations and mourning, 46, 48, 49n25, 63, 63n62; influences on, 52,



53, 53n39, 65; progeny, 115; reputation, 92n1; and Yijing, 39, 43, 45n9, 47, 52–55, 57, 66, 67, 85 Xun Song 荀崧 (d. 329/30), 354, 354n3, 358 Xun Sui 荀邃 (d. 325+), 190, 369 Xun Tan 荀曇 (fl. 166–69), 47, 75 Xun Xi 荀肸, 91 Xun Xin 荀昕, Leping Lord, 75, 78, 78n85 Xun Xu biezhuan, 28 Xun Xu 荀勗 (b. ca. 220, d. 289), 97 (Tbl. 1); accomplishments, 256, 259; aesthetics, 114, 216, 240; antiquarian research, 94, 114, 117, 120, 135, 151, 152, 162, 169, 171, 244, 265, 290–312; anti-Xunism (see under Xun family); appointments to (and removal from) official posts, 98, 108, 112–13, 121, 122, 123, 126, 151, 164–65, 167–68, 193, 213, 292, 293–94, 294n38, 298, 305, 322, 324, 325–27, 326–27 (Tbl. 5), 328, 332, 362, 367–70, 380; and artisans (see Artisans); assistance to family members, 77, 332; biographies of, 4–12, 27, 28, 72, 112–14, 128; and Buddhism and Daoism, 27; and bureaucratic reform, 285, 346; and calligraphy, 164, 171, 212, 280, 313–19, 324–25; career fashioning, 37, 72–75, 85–86, 94, 151, 165, 332; career stages, 30, 85, 98, 119, 121–23, 161, 163; and catalog projects, 305–12, 342, 368; childhood, 91; collecting and connoiseurship, 123–25; commentaries by, 12, 38, 122; Confucianism and Confucian ritual, 208, 216, 276, 375; critical reception of, 24–25, 69, 85, 111–18, 120, 149–50, 158, 161, 174, 175, 204–6, 212–13, 265–77, 281, 285, 318, 321, 322, 325, 332, 345–46, 348, 352, 363, 373–74, 377 (see also Xun family: anti-Xunism); and “daoistic” thought, 148, 150, 285; death, 368; denial of Cao-Wei rites and historical legitimacy by, 23–24, 94, 120, 135, 153, 154–55, 179–80, 187, 203, 210, 265, 308, 344, 359, 374, 380–81; and design, 26, 125, 151, 213, 215; and ethics, 135; and factions, 107–11, 118–20, 122, 272, 285, 286–90, 327, 333, 347, 364, 367, 373, 382; and flute temperamentology, 12, 31, 120, 204, 215, 216, 217, 225–65, 289; and He Qiao (see under

He Qiao); and historiography, 26, 33, 112–13, 114, 122, 151, 152, 165, 284, 332, 333, 334, 341, 344, 360; and historiography offices (see under Historiography, offices); influences received, 22, 37–38, 69–70, 73, 74 (Fig. 3), 85, 91, 95–97, 111, 149, 151, 154, 284, 328, 359; intuition, 267, 267n74; and Ji Tomb (see under Ji Tomb); and Jin court (see subheading Xun Xu: and Sima family and court); and law, 106, 122, 123, 151, 328; and literary criticism, 155, 309–11, 334, 342, 381; lyrics by, 140–47, 149, 210, 283, 288, 381; and mathematics, 380; and metalworking, 151, 164; and metrology (see under Metrology); and military affairs, 98, 104, 122, 281–82; and musicology and musicians, 31, 56, 85, 117, 120, 125–27, 132, 145, 146, 150, 152, 153, 157, 158, 164–65, 168, 209, 215, 224–65, 289, 308, 319, 330, 332, 368, 380; noble titles, 103, 104–5, 110, 121, 122, 293; objects made under direction of, 189, 190–91, 204, 215, 225, 256–65, 369; obsessive scholarship of, 3, 159, 216, 265, 346; and painting, 26, 124, 151, 164, 212; and paleography, 85; and poetry, 155–56, 279, 286–90 (see also Xun Xu: lyrics by); and prisca Zhou (see under Prisca Zhou); progeny, 45n10, 73, 368; prosody of, 10, 23, 30, 87, 128, 134, 141–47, 150, 152, 247, 263, 264, 265, 381; and public works, 346; reception in legend, 1–4, 111–18, 120, 124, 156, 161, 177–78, 196, 216, 246, 266, 362–65, 382; and reform of ritual system, 94, 104, 210, 328, 380; remonstrating with rulers, 103; research methods, 183–94, 213–14, 228–65, 280, 285, 298, 311, 338, 341, 344, 349, 352, 378; residence, 214; secretiveness, 364; and shushu arts, 193n83,380; and Sima family and court, 23, 26, 58, 75, 98, 102, 103–4, 110, 121, 281–85, 286–90, 329, 335, 363, 373–74; skills, 21, 22, 26, 37, 103, 119, 124, 125, 164, 171, 178, 196, 204, 265, 279, 338; staff, 184, 186, 187, 193, 212, 213, 234, 251, 252, 258, 265, 285, 298, 299, 301–5, 313, 315, 316, 324, 328, 329, 332, 342–43, 360, 371; and standard-rule (chi) (see Metrology: Xun Xu and); and technicality, 135, 204; as technocrat, 258; and technicians (see Technicians); technologies, 10–11,

index 204, 210, 214, 217, 250, 256; wealth, 364; and Wei family, 315; “Wenzhang xulu” 文章敍錄, 155, 309–10, 312, 334, 342; “Xunshi lu” 荀氏錄, authorship question, 155–59; and xuanxue, 13, 153, 216, 284, 381; and yuefu, 149, 155, 157–58; and Zhang Hua (see under Zhang Hua); and Zhengshi regency, 94, 98, 121; and Zhong family, 104, 170 Xun Yan 荀衍, 45, 62n59 Xun Yi 荀顗 (205–74), 2, 32, 56, 58, 62–64, 65, 66–67, 69, 70, 73, 85, 86, 96 (Tbl. 1); anti-Xunism and, 349, 352, 358, 362, 363; commentary on Lunyu, 98; and Confucian classics, 356; and He Yan, 98, 101; and historiography, 113, 269; honored by Jin Wudi, 279; influence on Xun Xu, 97; and law, 106, 123n4; military posts, 102, 119; mourning for parents, 63n62, 101–2; and music, 126, 150–51; “New Rites,” as author of, 104, 106, 122, 349, 353–58, 359; political influence, 122; reception in legend, 115, 115n54; and Sima Yan (Jin Wudi), 101, 119; and Wu War, 109; and Zhengshi regency, 92, 94, 98, 99, 101 Xun Yin 荀隱 (d. 304?), 81, 81n104 Xun You 荀攸 (157–214), 60, 70–72, 78, 346, 368 Xun Yu 荀彧 (163–212), 49–52, 115n53; and Cao Cao, 49–52, 57, 61, 368; and commemorations, 48, 49, 50–52; and Confucianism, 60; death, 50, 57, 61, 72, 91, 157, 330; and Palace Writers, 332; and law, 70–72; progeny, 19, 115; reception, 52, 60; and Sun Zi, 167 Xun Yu 荀彧 biezhuan, 28 Xun Yu 荀昱 (d. ca. 169), 47, 55, 75 Xun Yue 荀岳 (246–95), 42, 72, 75–84, 85, 327 (Tbl. 5), 332; disambiguation of name, 47n21 Xun Yue 荀悅 (148–209), 47, 48, 49, 50, 55–56, 57, 65, 85, 332; disambiguation of name, 47n21 Xun Yun 荀惲, 45n9, 58, 65 Xun Zu 荀組, 40n8 “Xunshi jiazhuan” 荀氏家傳, 28, 156 Yan 閻 (Zhou-era), 116 Yan Kejun 嚴可均, 124n5, 181, 252n48 Yan Yanzhi 顏延之 (384–456), 272–73 Yang 楊, Empress, 108, 137, 282


Yang family 楊 of Hongnong 弘農, 40, 50 Yang Hu 羊祜 (221–78) 96 (Tbl. 1), 101, 102, 104, 105, 109–10, 119, 122, 279, 288, 354 Yang Jialuo, 252n48 Yang Mao 楊髦 (d. 311), 81n101, 83 Yang Ming 楊明, 157 Yang Xiong 楊雄 (53 bc–18 ad), 11, 11n18, 21, 258 Yang Yao 楊珧 (d. ca. 300), 281–82, 302 Yang Yinliu 楊蔭瀏, 259, 263 Yangcheng, 41, 46 Yanshi 偃師, 41, 42 Yellow Emperor, 149, 197 Yijing. See under Philosophy; also see under Scholarship, on individual classics yin-yang arts. See Philosophy: shushu arts Ying Qu 應璩 (190–252), 95; Ying family, 42n12 Ying Zhen 應貞 (d. 269), 70, 151, 287, 290, 354. See also Ying Qu Yingchuan 潁川, 37, 40, 41, 42–43, 47, 48, 49, 55, 57, 72–73, 77, 84, 85, 86, 91, 98, 301; family alliances in, 102. See also Chen family; Xun family; Zhong family Yingyin 潁陰, 37, 39, 41, 47, 57, 58, 62, 64, 78, 79, 82, 83, 84, 84, 86, 91, 122. See also Yingchuan Yong, Bell, 211 Yoshikawa Kōjirō 吉川幸次郎, 8 Youzhou 幽州, 290, 304, 308 Yu Jun 庾峻, 354 Yu Yi 庾嶷, 71, 71n77. See also under Law: study of Yue Guang 樂廣 (d. perhaps 304), 2–3, 327 (Tbl. 5) yuefu 樂府. See under Literature; Musicology Zeitlin, Judith, 144n62 Zhang Fan 張璠 (Jin era), 29 Zhang Fuxiang 張富祥, 291 Zhang Heng 張衡 (78–139 ad), 11, 11n18, 20n34, 127–28, 144, 212, 258 Zhang Hua 張華 (232–300): and antiquity, 379; and architecture, 136; and calligraphy and paleography, 320 career, 320–21; critical reception of, 149; and “daoistic” thought, 153, 320, 375, 379, 380; and factions, 119, 136–39, 301, 352; and He Shao (See under He Shao); and historiography, 113, 113n45,



152, 320, 374, 379; and historiography offices 327 (Tbl. 5) (see also Factions: Zhang Hua ambit); honored by state, 286; and Ji Tomb, 320, 321, 325, 352; and Jia succession, 108n35, 372; and law, 106, 137; and literature, 376; lyrics by, 147–48, 153, 328; and music, 126, 133–35, 136–39, 140, 152, 158, 229, 240; need for biographies of, 9; and Palace Writers, 136, 168, 303, 330; poetry by, 289–90, 379; proteges (see Factions: Zhang Hua ambit); scholarly style, 379; and Shu Xi (see under Shu Xi); and shushu arts, 136; and Wu War, 288, 303; and xuanxue, 148, 150, 153; and Xun Xu, 31, 32, 33, 109–11, 135–38, 146–47, 152, 153, 168–71, 228, 229, 247, 265, 305–8, 320, 325, 327–29, 332, 380; and yuefu, 158; and Zhi Yu (see under Zhi Yu) Zhang Mo 張墨, 124 Zhang Tianxi 張天錫, General (ca. 344– 404), 2–3, 276 Zhao Chao 趙超, 78 Zhao Wangqin 趙望秦, 308, 309, 311 Zheng Chong 鄭沖 (d. 274), 96 (Tbl. 1), 101, 353–54 Zheng Xuan 鄭玄 (127–200), 9, 10, 46, 55, 70, 288n25, 356, 356n13, 358, 359, 381 Zheng Zuxiang 鄭祖襄, 157 “Zhengde 正德,” choreography and chant (“Just Potency”) See Literature: “Choreographed Chant for Jin’s ‘Just Potency’”) Zhengsheng 正聲 scale. See under Musicology, seven-note scales Zhengshi 正始 reign period (240–49), 5, 13, 19, 20, 26, 69; and dynastic chronology, 335, 373; historical memory of, 93, 112; intellectual developments, 93; music in, 135; name, 92, 93–94, 118, 131 Zhengshi “timbre” 正始之音. See under Xuanxue Zhi Jiang 智匠, 158 Zhi Yu 摯虞 (b. ca. 250, d. 311), 87; and antiquarianism, 324, 360; and antiquity, 353, 377; and calligraphy and paleography, 317, 323; career, 323–24; and commentaries, 353, 358–59, 362, 377; criticism of Xun Yi, 355–58; criticism of Xuns, general, 309–11, 324, 332, 352; and Daoism, 323; and factions, 352–65; and fugu, 33; and his-

toriography, 351; and historiography offices, 323, 325, 326–27 (Tbl. 5), 333; and Ji Tomb, 323; and literature, 324; and metrology, 324, 347–49, 351; need for biographies of, 9; opinion of Du Yu, 318; revision of “New Rites,” 358; writings of, 324; and Zhang Hua, 321, 333, 351 Zhong family 鍾 of Yingchuan, 40, 73, 85, 91, 102, 170, 316 Zhong Hui 鍾會 (226–64), 13, 58, 67, 269n83; and calligraphy, 313; military posts, 102; rebellion, 103–4, 121, 170, 283, 314, 315; reception in legend, 124; writings of, 143n48, 149 Zhong You 鍾繇 (ca. 163–220), 56, 91, 124, 169, 170 Zhong Zongzhi 鍾宗之, 369 Zhongshu 中書 (Palace Writers). See under Historiography, offices Zhou rites, perception as ideal. See Prisca Zhou Zhou rites, description of, 355–56 Zhouli. See under Scholarship, on individual classics Zhouyu (section of Guoyu). See Scholarship, on individual classics: Guoyu Zhu Xizu 朱希祖, 280, 290n27, 295n39, 296nn41–42, 304, 323, 324, 373n46 Zhu Yizun 朱彜尊, 312n84 Zhu Zheng 朱整, 355, 358 Zhuangzi. See under Scholarship, commentary; Scholarship, on individual classics Zhuge Liang 諸葛亮 (181–234), 330 Zou Yan 鄒衍, 370 Zu Chongzhi 祖沖之 (429–500), 191, 192, 198 Zuo Si 左思 (d. 306), 327 (Tbl. 5), 333, 372 Zuo Yannian 左延年 (fl. 220–40), 233, 234, 243 Zuozhuan. See under Scholarship, commentaries Zürcher, Erik, 8n13