Romance of the Three Kingdoms: 1 (Tuttle Classics) Read online

  Published by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd., with editorial offices at 364 Innovation Drive, North Clarendon, Vermont 05759 USA and and 6I Tai Seng Avenue, #02-12, Singapore 534167.

  First published by Charles E. Tuttle Co. Inc., 1959

  Completely reset and published with a new Introduction by Tuttle Publishing, 2002

  Copyright © 1959, 2002 Tuttle Publishing

  Ail rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-1-4629-0280-4 (ebook)

  Library of Congress Cataloging No. 2002102265

  Printed in Singapore

  10 09 12 11 10 9

  Distributed by:

  North America, Latin America & Europe Japan

  Tuttle Publishing Tuttle Publishing

  364 Innovation Drive Yaekari Building, 3rd Floor

  North Clarendon, VT 05759-9436 U.S.A. 5-4-12 Osaki

  Tel: I (802) 773-8930 Shinagawa-ku

  Fax: I (802) 773-6993 Tokyo 141 0032

  [email protected] Tel: (81) 03 5437-0I7I

  www.tuttlepublishing.com Fax: (81) 03 5437-0755

  [email protected]

  Asia Pacific

  Berkeley Books Pte Ltd

  6I Tai Seng Avenue, #02-12

  Singapore 534167

  Tel: (65) 6280-1330

  Fax: (65) 6280-6290

  [email protected]

  www.periplus.com

  TUTTLE PUBLISHING® is a registered trademark of Tuttle Publishing, a division of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd.

  INTRODUCTION

  R OMANCE of the Three Kingdoms is China’s oldest novel and still one of its most widely read works of literature. It is the first of , a great tradition of historical fiction that remains undiminished in popularity today. The earliest printed edition of this novel appeared in 1522 CE, but it includes a Preface dated 1494, suggesting earlier composition. In fact, it shares subject matter with successive generations of plays popular among theater audiences since the middle of the thirteenth century. Likewise, the novel bears a close relation to an illustrated prose narrative that was printed in the 1320s entitled San-kuo chih p’ing-hua (Plain Tales from the San-kuo chih). It, and Romance of the Three Kingdoms, are clearly historical fiction; both are ostensibly indebted to the great San-kuo chih (Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms), completed by the historian Ch’en Shou (233-297 CE) during the last year of his life. All three of these texts focus on the individuals most centrally involved in those events, and each, in turn, places ever more responsibility on those individuals for the momentous events of their age. In this novel, especially, fiction takes clear precedence over historical fact.

  History is always messy: there are so many individuals who play a role in major events, and each cries out to be examined. Historical novelists in China had no less difficulty than its historians in deciding whom to focus on. Unlike the historians, however, who could simply append biographical sketches to a chronology and let the reader somehow put the two together in some meaningful way, the novelist had to conceptualize the major movements in events and to demonstrate which figures deserve our attention. For the author of the “Plain Tales”, the motivating element behind the rise of the Three Kingdoms was cosmic retribution: because of the sins of its founders, the Han dynasty deserved to fall into pieces. For the novelist behind Romance of the Three Kingdoms, however, the rationale was much more concrete. Here, events are shaped by human desires and aspirations, by laudatory hopes as well as by simple greed.

  The players in this piece seem so numerous that initially it is difficult to understand the factions involved. The first chapter, however, introduces us to the novel’s central figures: the noble Liu Pei (generally called Liu Yuan-te, who lived from 161 to 223 CE) and his sworn brothers Chang Fei (Chang I-te) and Kuan Yu (Kuan Yun-ch’ang, the “Beautiful Beard”) who, in the year 184, swear brotherhood in a peach garden on the basis of their common sense of purpose. This group, along with Liu’s primary advisor Chuko Liang (Chuko K’ungming, 181-234 CE, introduced in Chapter 38) and the mighty general Chao Yun (Chao Tzu-lung, especially Chapter 28), constitute the nucleus of the novel’s anointed favorites, who ultimately form the state of Shu in western China. Because he shares the Han imperial surname and is, in fact, a distant descendant of the royal house, Liu Pei claims legitimacy for his state, and the novelist concurs. His special strength is his ability to inspire loyalty in others, despite his numerous failures in diplomacy and on the battlefield. Conversely, his curse is to use the loyalty of others without abusing them. This leads Liu Pei to the more compelling moral crises of the novel.

  Chang Fei is the model warrior: tough, resourceful, fearless, and yet rash when it comes to issuing orders and dealing with underlings. Kuan Yu is the embodiment of courage and of faithful service to his lord; his individual exploits have enthralled readers (and theater audiences) for centuries. Always devoted, always diligent, the novelist allows him the strength of character to return in ghostly form after his death to take his revenge. This act reflects the awe he has always inspired: from early in China’s medieval period, Lord Kuan has served as a powerful figure in the divine pantheon, becoming the paragon of fidelity. Statues of him appear in temples, shops and households throughout Chinese communities even today. For his part, Chuko Liang is often known as a wizard, but fans of this novel know him primarily as the crafty strategist who, through his keen insights into human nature, provides invaluable advice to his lord.

  The second chapter introduces the figure who, to some readers, plays the dominant role in the novel. This is the upstart Ts’ao Ts’ao (Ts’ao Meng-te, sometimes called Ts’ao A-man, 155-220 CE), a man who, through cool calculations and pragmatic manipulations, takes control of the failing Han empire from the various other contenders at the capital and sets the stage for the creation of a new state. Ts’ao Ts’ao is a brilliant commander; his special strength is his unerring sense of the appropriate timing of action, and this brings him to the brink of success. However, his arrogance nearly spells his ruin. Yet, his strategy is simply to control the Han, not to destroy it. It remains to his elder son and successor, Ts’ao Pei, to establish the state of Wei in north China.

  The third of the three states evolves south of the Yangtze. This is Wu, governed by members of the Sun family, first Sun Chien (Chapter 5), then his son Sun Ts’e (introduced in Chapter 7 and again in Chapter 29), and then by his brother Sun Ch’uan (Chapter 38). Their ablest advisor, who figures prominently in the central battle of the novel fought during the year 208 (at Red Cliffs, Chapters 44 to 50), is Chou Yu, Sun Ch’uan’s brother-in-law. Their advantage is provided by geography: protected by the Yangtze River, Wu remains unscathed despite various attacks from the other two states, from its formal establishment in 229 until all the rest of China is finally incorporated by the Ssuma family into the new Chin dynasty.

  The History and Horn It Was Read

  Chen Shou’s “Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms” outlines the great and terrible events of the period from 168 to 280 CE, when China’s first great dynasty, the Han (206 BCE-220 CE) was riven, through decades of bloody strife, into three separate states nearly constantly at war with each other. The period, and thus the novel, came to an end with the brief reunion of all China under the leadership of the Ssuma family and their dynasty, the Chin. As the “Plain Tales” reminds us, however, that dynasty, too, was divided after only a few decades. It was only in 589 w
ith the final unification of the Sui (589-618) and its successor, the Tang (618-906), that China again remained at least nominally united for an extended period.

  Of grave concern to China’s readers through time has been the succession: which of the three states was the legitimate dynasty? Which should have won this struggle? Historian Ch’en Shou, who lived through much of the period he wrote about, had no clear favorite, although word choice would suggest that he chose Wei, the northern state headed by the descendants of Ts’ao Ts’ao. Not all readers agreed with him. Especially during periods when China was threatened by invasion from the north—or was divided or occupied by northerners—sympathies tended to extend that favored position to Shu. Those who did not question the rectitude of the so-called “conquest dynasties” who took power by main force have generally remained pro-Wei in their reading of history; in times of national division, Liu Pei and his forces became emblematic of Han Chinese national sentiment. Thus, the novel has seldom been read for its historical fact, instead, it has often been read as a reflection on the readers’ own times.

  Authorship and the Formation of the Text

  Ever since the 1522 edition, the name Lo Kuanchung has been associated with the novel. Lo was apparently a playwright who lived from perhaps 1315 to nearly 1400; he is known to have compiled historical plays in the form popular during the period of Mongol rule in China (1279-1368 CE). There is no known author for the “Plain Tales” from which the novelist drew some of his material (the novel is ten times as long), nor is there any incontrovertible evidence for the existence of the novel before it was printed in 1522. Some interpret the novel as a product of the resurgence of Han (Chinese) nationalism as a response to Mongol domination that, as often has been the case, identified China’s ethnic majority with the first great dynasty. Few would see the novel as any kind of allegory. The date of its first printing suggests that the novel circulated in manuscript form during the last decades of the fifteenth century at the latest, a hundred years after the shadowy Lo Kuanchung was active. Scholarly opinion seems to favor composition during the late fifteenth century, given its uses of terms and its political concerns.

  Could Lo Kuanchung have written this first great Chinese novel? The answer can never be definitive, nor should we care, I believe. Authorship as we know it, is a relatively recent concept at both ends of the Eurasian landmass. Before then,“compiler” might be the best description for many authors in many cultures. As we have seen, the novelist adapted material from an earlier lengthy, but crude, narrative as well as formal historical accounts of the period. Undoubtedly, this shadowy figure, whoever he was, followed Confucius himself who claimed not “to create, but only to transmit” the wisdom of his predecessors. In the process, however, the Sage reshaped earlier ideas of Chinese tradition to make them his own philosophy. So, too, did our novelist reshape his raw materials into a tale quite unlike those source texts—if, in fact, we have only one author to thank for this work.

  The original novel was named San-kuo chih t’ung-su yen-i, literally “Popular Elaborations on the Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms”, presumably with the hope that readers would attribute to his version some of the respect generally accorded the official histories. It was divided into 240 unnamed sections, and, if we are to accept the word of the prefacers, it was meant to teach its readers about historical events and about such virtues as loyalty. By the middle of the sixteenth century, the novel passed into the realm of commerce and had spawned a rash of imitations, novels on other periods of Chinese history. By 1600, many editions of this work had appeared, some of them illustrated and some of them simplified and shortened, presumably to attract buyers less willing to tackle such a massive text. The version translated by Brewitt-Taylor, the one that drove all competitors from the market after its first appearance in the 1670s, is commonly titled San-kuo chih yen-i (Elaborations on Three Kingdoms), or as it has generally been known in the West, Romance of the Three Kingdoms. This edition was shortened somewhat from the 1522 version, and was slightly changed in content (the immortal words “Empires wax and wane…” cited below were their addition); it was divided into 120 chapters, each with its own summarizing title. More importantly, its editors, Mao Lun (b. c.1610, who lost his sight before the beginning of this project) and his son Mao Ts’ung-kang (c. 1630-c. 1705), included an extensive commentary, not reproduced in this reprint.

  The Mao commentary, modeled on annotations to the classic texts of the Confucian tradition, emphasizes the question of legitimate succession. Moreover, it explains how the reader should appreciate the novel. It explores the novelist’s craft, how events have been foreshadowed in earlier chapters, and how suggestions made in one place are realized later in the text. It discusses the morality of the characters’ actions and draws attention to stylistic felicities throughout. Their commentary also emphasizes causality, the reasons why events work out as they did in fact. In the process, they clarify Liu Pei’s great virtues, and their opposite in Ts’ao Ts’ao.

  The Appeal of Chinese Historical Fiction

  Like Romance of the Three Kingdoms, most traditional Chinese novels are set in periods of strife, and generally narrate the rise and fall of dynasties. This allows the novelist to build portraits of various contenders and explore the loyalty (or treachery) of their followers as the various groups jockey for position and power. This allows for the elaboration of complicated stratagems as alliances are made and broken. Many rebels begin as otherwise unknown local figures and rise to prominence through the relentless battles that dominate the narrative in these works. The popularity of these novels attests to the prevalence of a taste for action of a slightly subversive sort. Although the idea of loyalty to authority is intrinsic here, the glorification of members of the common mass to the detriment of inept civil officials regularly undercuts the official Confucian emphasis on order and tranquility—as well as the status of the educated. More importantly, by regular reference to the notion that periods of political disorder are inevitable, these works question the ability of rulers to maintain such order, even over short periods of time.

  The great Confucian scholar Mencius (371-289? BCE) once commented,“Timing is less important than geographical advantage, and geographical advantage is less important than human unity.” This is precisely how this great novel parcels out its favor. Ts’ao Ts’ao’s timely action in Wei is allotted less favor than Wu in its security of location. Clearly, however, the novelist’s sympathies lie with Liu Pei and his manifold humanity; his aspirations and his foibles ultimately shape this great work, and it is for his tragedy that the novel is primarily known.

  Ultimately, the novel’s appeal lies in its affirmation of the dynastic cycle. Even since the Han itself, historians and the general public have observed, as the novel says on its first page,“Empires wax and wane; states cleave asunder and coalesce,” and on its last,“States fall asunder and re-unite; empires wax and wane.” No matter how lengthy the division of China into separate political entities, a time for reunion will come. Thus, for modern readers, the novel seems to reflect the state of affairs that has existed since 1949 with China divided first into four (the mainland, Hong Kong, Macau and Taiwan) and, eventually, after 1999 only two parts, the mainland and its offshore competitor. This situation will come to an end, the concept affirms—but then that unity, too, will ultimately be replaced by another period of division.

  Is this a reassuring scenario? Perhaps not, and yet it affirms the constant awareness of transience in Chinese culture, that nothing persists unchanged through time. Buddhist teachings only clarify a perception already age-old by the time of Confucius twenty-six centuries ago, that time flows like a river past our seeming position of stability on the bank. It has always been said that many tears were shed during the writing of this great tale. Surely many more have been shed during its reading, not only for its characters, but because we readers share their vain hopes, their grand aspirations, their terrible fears and their tragic weaknesses as well. As have they,
so too must we disappear with the flow of time. Like all good fiction, Romance of the Three Kingdoms is not only about some characters long ago and far away; it is in large measure about us as well.

  ROBERT E. HEGEL

  Washington University

  St. Louis, Missouri

  December 2001

  TRANSLATOR’S NOTE

  T he San Kuo is distinctly Eastern, a book adapted for the storyteller; one can almost hear him. It abounds in names and genealogies, which seem never to tire the Eastern reader or listener. Happily, English admits pronouns in place of so many strangely spelt names which ought to appear, and they have been used; and as most persons have at least a tzu in addition to the hsing and ming I have tried to lighten the burden on the foreign reader’s memory by using only the hsing or the hsing and ming of a man, suppressing his tzu except in the case of very well-known characters.

  Manchu, Japanese, Siamese, and possible other versions of the San Kuo have been made, and now to these I have attempted to add one in English, with what measure of success I leave to curious readers qualified to compare my rendering with the original.

  The Wade system of romanisation, in which the vowels are pronounced as in Italian, has been used.

  In conclusion, I wish to put on record my gratitude to Mr. Chen Ti Tsen, who typed the text, and Mr. E. Manico Gull, who has read the proofs, and to dedicate this translation to the memory of my son Raymond.

  C. H. BREWITT-TAYLOR

  CONTENTS

  Introduction V

  Translator’s Note xii

  I Feast in the Garden of Peaches: Brotherhood Sworn: Slaughter of Rebels: The Brothers Heroes 3

  II An Official is Thrashed; Uncle Ho Plots to Kill the Eunuchs 14

  III Tung Cho Silences Ting Yuan: Li Su Bribes Lu Pu 27

  IV The Deposition of the Emperor: Prince of Ch’en-liu Becomes Emperor: Schemes against Tung Cho: Meng-te Presents a Sword 38