RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1974 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/x633mp077 deity in Hong Kong, particularly among the boat-people. There are many temples dedicated to her in the Colony. This particular temple is believed to date from the Sung Dynasty, and with the nearby rock-carving, dated 1274, provides a popular place for pilgrimages. These three last trips were organised by our Vice-president, Mr. James Hayes, who has an extensive knowledge of the history of Hong Kong, particularly its rural areas. The ten lectures covered a wide variety of subjects. The first lecture of the year was delivered by Professor Murray Groves, head of the Sociology Department, University of Hong Kong. Professor Groves had lived in New Guinea and worked there as an anthropologist, and he talked about a sea-faring people, the Motu, and their musical styles. His talk was illustrated with slides and tape recordings. The second talk was about Chinese paintings in the William Rockhill Nelson Gallery of Art: a Gallery of international reputation, situated in Kansas, and housing one of the major comprehensive collections of oriental art in the U.S.A. The talk was delivered by Professor Chu-tsing Li, Research Curator of the Gallery, and was illustrated with slides. Later in the year, Professor Winston Hsieh of Missouri University, talked to us about the Canton Delta Project which he is currently heading. The Canton Delta has great significance for scholars of Chinese social organization, urban studies, foreign trade, revolutionary movements and overseas emigration, and it is particularly rich in Chinese and Western source materials. The project is interdisciplinary and we look forward to hearing more about its activities. In September Professor P. B. Harris, who heads the Political Science Department of the University of Hong Kong talked to the Society on "Maoism and Rousseauism", and in November Mr. Henry Lethbridge of Hong Kong University's Sociology Department described the exploits of two adventurers extraordinary who visited Hong Kong in the late 1880's: David de Mayréna, soi-disant King of the Sedangs in Indo China, and the Marquis de Morès. Both died later in mysterious circumstances. Mr. Lethbridge specialises in the social history of Hong Kong, and participated in our symposium last year on "Hong Kong: Chinese tradition and the growth of a town”. Dr. Hugh Baker, who also participated in our first symposium which I organised in 1964 on “The Social Organization of the New ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1978 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/8g84t8593 90 EUGENE COOPER also keeps them closely informed of events on the Mainland. Membership in an affiliated union may also facilitate return trips to one's native village in China during New Years and at other times as well, since the Federation provides a link up with Chinese representatives and bureaucracy in Hong Kong. The contradiction between the interest of the Hong Kong worker in his own material well being, and the requirement that he subordinate his immediate interests to the long run national interests of Peking, has surely not made life easy for the constituent unions of the pro-communist Hong Kong Federation of Trade Unions in their organizing efforts in the post-war Hong Kong setting. Nevertheless, in more recent years, as Peking pursued the resolution of what it took to be "principle contradictions", namely admission to the U.N. and the liberation of Taiwan, developments in Hong Kong tended to bear out the appropriateness of their strategy. In 1971, when the Peking government displaced the Taiwan government as the sole legitimate representative of the Chinese people at the United Nations, the political influence that Peking was able to exercise in the political balance of Hong Kong grew enormously at the expense of the Nationalists. Organs of Peking power like the Hong Kong Federation of Trade Unions gained an enormous legitimacy in the new aura that came to surround the Peking government. Allegiance to the People's Republic, long an obstacle to effective organizing among Hong Kong's largely political-refugee population, became somewhat more of an asset for groups like the Woodwork Carvers' Union. 1971 marked a turning point in the fortunes of their organizing. Indeed one could argue that the relegation of the "Hong Kong problem" to the status of a secondary contradiction made a great deal of sense, as the political balance tipped noticeably in favor of the Peking government after 1971 with the resolution of a higher order contradiction, i.e. the seating of the Peking government at the U.N. These developments have helped the Woodwork Carvers' Union immeasurably in its attempt to organize an increasingly proletarianized work force according to principles consistent with Maoist ideology, although the apparent contradiction between genuinely class oriented, as opposed to nation oriented, loyalties and its peculiar configuration in Hong Kong remains. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1978 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/8g84t8593 100 EUGENE COOPER The Woodwork Carvers' Union has always encouraged the growth of a modern, unified, class conscious labor force. Its ability to weather the struggles of the 1960's and its current vitality in actively promoting its members' interests in welfare, recreation, and livelihood are expressions of the fact that 1.) its Maoist message now finds a more receptive audience in a labor force more thoroughly proletarianized and less hostile to Peking and 2.) its efforts to consciously adapt, transform, and politicize various aspects of traditional craft social structure into modern institutions in a manner consistent with its ideology have been relatively successful. The result has been that the purposes which the Woodwork Carvers' Union has made its own now command a greater importance in the lives of most workers than ever before. Politics, and proletarian politics at that, is in command in the art carved furniture industry, and the traditional array of discrete unions for carvers and carpenters of differing native place in differing woods is in retreat. References Cited Burgess, J. S. 1928 The Guilds of Peking New York: Columbia University Press. Gamble, S. D. 1921 Peking A Social Survey New York: George A. Doran Co. Marx, K. 1967 Capital New York: International Publishers. Morse, H. B. 1909 The Guilds of China London: Longmans, Green & Co. Sowerby, A. de C. 1926 A New Art Craft in Shanghai The China Journal of Science and Arts 8(3): 1. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 KEITH G. STEVENS Temples and monasteries can be classified as follows:-- a. By religious belief-Buddhist, Daoist, Confucian and traditional folk religion,5 b. By the contents of the altars - deities, ancestral tablets or charms. c. By their typological features such as the size and shape of their plans (square or rectangular); by their elevation into floors; by divisions and sub-divisions; whether free-standing or not; and whether the courtyard is enclosed or in front of the main building. d. Whether residential or non-residential. e. Whether permanent or temporary. f. By ethnic grouping (regional traditional types),6 Within Hong Kong and Macau, there are about four hundred and fifty Buddhist, Daoist, and folk religion temples, Buddhist and Daoist monasteries and nunneries, and ancestral temples. A few pre-date the advent of the British and Portuguese whilst the majority, built since 1840, have been established as specialised temples with a specific deity on their altars well known for a unique function such as destroying demons, protecting seafarers, foretelling the future, protecting mothers during childbirth and children during childhood, and the like. It is unfortunate, out of interest in such historic places, that neither Hong Kong nor Macau have the large national temple or temples at which the official state religion was worshipped. This is due to the fact that before the arrival of the British and Portuguese, neither territory contained a county town and were primitive rural areas. Nor are there in Hong Kong or Macau the large City God temples which in Imperial China were to be found in all provincial and county capitals. Whereas the Chinese government in 1928 closed many temples throughout China during their campaign to suppress superstition,* the practices condemned by the Chinese authorities continued in Hong Kong and Macau where British and Portuguese administrators treated native susceptibilities with great caution. Hong Kong and Macau temples therefore, retained deities and practices which have probably long since disappeared on the Chinese mainland. * described in some detail by C. B. Day in his Chinese Peasant Cults (Nanking Theological Seminary English Publications, 1938), pp. 190-195. Page 30 Page 31 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 CHINESE MONASTERIES, TEMPLES, SHRINES, ALTARS fortune slips and interpret the fortune slips. 5 th Competition between Buddhists and Daoists for the support of devotees led to grander and bigger temples. Small village shrines and temples, not in the same league, did not need to compete. Competition for devotees also led to the present circumstances in which rural shrines and temples are comparatively small and unkempt whereas their urban equivalents, though not much larger, have had to be made more attractive, usually by offering unique deities and services in order to wean devotees to their particular altars. In Hong Kong and Macau there are a number of temples patronised primarily by people of a particular class, sub-ethnic group or occupational calling. Devotees tend to patronise their local temple irrespective of who the deities are, though they may be attracted to a more distant temple by a particular deity famous for his specialised power and efficacy. The latter might be a god whose cult is long standing and whose characteristics are unique and pertinent to the devotee's requirements. He might however be a new star, rising suddenly amid great publicity, only to wane again but not necessarily to disappear completely. Location of temples Prior to the anti-superstition campaign in China in 1928, traditional temples were scattered across China in their tens of thousands. Not quite so abundant in Hong Kong, they are to be found squeezed in among high-rise buildings in the city and among houses in villages, and may be free-standing or joined to other structures. But apart from monasteries, rarely does one appear beyond the village bounds and when it does it is usually derelict or almost so. Buddhist, Daoist and popular religion temples do not usually materialize as full-blown two-court buildings with numerous images, large and small. Their development has been a natural progression from the small shrine on a hillside, probably beneath the overhang of or attached to a living rock, at the base of a large old tree, or in many cases inshore from a sandy beach of a bay with an easy landing for boat people. If the shrine is well attended, the protective construction around the small shrine will grow as years pass, until eventually it reaches the maximum size that devotees can afford to build and maintain. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 KEITH G. STEVENS serve Buddhist devotees and which have Buddhist images on altars in their halls and offices. These include Buddhist schools, clinics, book-stores and libraries, homes for the aged and vegetarian food shops and restaurants. Buddhist temples and monasteries are not only more airy, lighter and cleaner than the Daoist folk temples, their images are larger, gold-lacquered and usually distinctive. However, there are the exceptions, few though they be, of small, dark and, because they are old, more drab Buddhist establishments. Some images too can be multi-coloured, though very few are of any material other than wood. Exclusively Buddhist establishments are few and far between, the majority having an altar or two containing folk religion deities. Quite a number of the Buddhist temples were first instituted in Hong Kong by a single wealthy Chinese who recommended or selected the specific deity or deities to be placed on the altars. The donation of funds to help found a monastery is not only a move to obtain merit for the donor, or for perpetual prayers to be said by the monks in the Memorial Hall of the monastery for the donor himself or for his parents or wife, but is often a gesture to display the importance of the donor (it entitles his or her name to be engraved and displayed at the entrance). Once the monastery has been built the flow of funds from devotees enables it to flourish, but when devotees disappear the monastery too withers. Once the decision to found a Buddhist temple has been made, a board of directors is established and executive decisions are then made by them. (The same is true of Daoist and folk religion temples). In Buddhist and Daoist establishments a priest is invited to become the abbot, and nuns, monks and lay men and women are gradually enrolled. Abbots and hermits choose attractive and secluded spots on remote mountain sides to escape from the tumult of life and to devote themselves to quiet meditation. Founded by either fervent monks or wealthy benefactors, they were usually built on sites which were both aesthetic and practical because, in addition to being a place of meditation, in old China travellers in remoter areas found it necessary as well as agreeable to stay overnight in monasteries. (Plate 1) Three very distinctive areas in Hong Kong's New Territories were all sufficiently remote to satisfy the "hermit" in the monks. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 CHINESE MONASTERIES, TEMPLES, SHRINES, ALTARS 11 There are a dozen or so temples in Hong Kong the titles of which should leave one in no doubt that they are Buddhist. To highlight the problem of classifying temples by their religious affiliation, let us examine one in Lo Wai above Tsuen Wan which has a typically Buddhist name followed by the characters for "Buddhist temple". The staff consists of three laymen who run the vegetarian restaurant below the temple and the deities on the altar from senior to junior are Guan Di, Guan Yin, Lu Dong Bin, Dou Mu and Yao Shi Fo. Guan Yin and Yao Shi Fo are Buddhist, whilst the other three are Daoist folk religion deities. Opposite the main altar, on a secondary altar, are a Kitchen God and a Protector of the Law, both represented by framed prints; the first is a folk religion deity and the second Buddhist. And finally, on the table before the main altar is a red wooden rice bucket containing a peck of uncooked rice in which stand numerous items which have without doubt Daoist and not Buddhist origins. Despite the mixture, the three laymen were surprised that there was any doubt that their temple was Buddhist. Confucian and Daoist temples In Hong Kong and Macau there are no Confucian temples as there were in China and still are in Taiwan. There are, however, Confucian Halls such as the one in a school sponsored by the Confucian Society at Caroline Hill, Hong Kong Island. Several Chinese societies in Hong Kong are understood to have private altars dedicated solely to Confucius. The official state religion had its own rites and deities and involved the official bureaucracy and the gentry only. The nearest thing to a State temple in our two territories is the rural school at Fanling where an image of the Yellow Emperor (*) stands on an altar in the main hall, and the side hall of a Macau temple in which a school is held where on an altar there are full-size images of the inventors of ink and writing. "Pure" Daoist temples are rare, there appearing to be none in Macau and some two dozen in Hong Kong of which two are branches of two of the others. These two dozen contain distinct Daoist deities, are run by Daoist bodies represented by a committee, whilst Daoist lay priests and priestesses perform Daoist ceremonies. * Peng Lai Ge (**M**) ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 12 KEITH G. STEVENS A typical Daoist temple is the very bare flatlet on the fourteenth floor of a high-rise block in crowded Shamshuipo, established by a widow from Fujian province in about 1965. Now in her early eighties, she lives alone in the flat, which has a resounding Daoist temple name, and has services performed once a week by a visiting lay priest. She recalled eight occasions when near death, she was saved by a specific Daoist Immortal, Lou Da Zhen Jun (**★**IA) who died late in the Ming dynasty, in Fujian, but who appeared again in spirit form in the twenties of this century in Amoy successfully to persuade a Bank of China manager to stop gambling. Lou's likeness is the only icon in the temple, and before it, services are held and sand-table prognostications obtained. A modern major religious complex above Lo Wai, Tsuen Wan, has on its main altar large images of Confucius, Lao Zi, and Sakyamuni, representing the three religions: Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism. Above the altar hall, which is a modern pagoda, there are several buildings dedicated entirely to memorials, and in two of these halls, Daoist services for the dead are frequently performed. Folk Religion Temples There are some two hundred and forty-six folk religion temples in Hong Kong. When sub-divided into architectural groups, approximately two-thirds of them are traditional buildings, two-ninths are modern constructions, legally built with the Hong Kong Government's permission,18 and one-ninth resettlement shacks, huts, or other illegal constructions. These latter fall into those tolerated by the Hong Kong authorities and those not tolerated.* The latter are regularly pulled down, often to be built illegally again nearby. Traditional temples in rural areas tend to have flourished around a catchment area of a village or two and have been built on the outskirts of one of the villages. Frequently, there is an adjacent open space used primarily for holding elaborate festivities on the main deity's annual feast day. Although most traditional folk religion temples built before World War II have a similar plan and general layout, no * To be explained by the periodic amnesties given to older, but still not tolerated illegal structures. 1976 saw the last to date, the purpose being to provide a new, realistic baseline for demolition of new structures (Hon. Editor). ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 CHINESE MONASTERIES, TEMPLES, SHRINES, ALTARS 29 Zhi Gong and over Lunar New Year, and has a "red-pig" fund30 for the feast at each occasion. Certain lands in rural areas in Hong Kong are designated as 'temple property',() and the income from them is devoted to the upkeep of the temple and its deity as well as providing financial support for the temple keeper. In many cases the deed of ownership is made out in the name of the principle deity, whilst selected elders of the village act as trustees. A foreign missionary once described how funds were raised in China for religious purposes.31 An old Buddhist temple to the north of Tak Hing, west of Guangzhou which had been allowed to fall into ruin, was to be rebuilt in 1903 because a geomancer discovered that the floods and crop failures of 1902 were due to the neglect of the deity who formerly had occupied the temple. The deity had come back, according to the geomancer, and had been seen in the form of a woman. Villages and cities even as far distant as forty miles sent processions to help subscribe towards the rebuilding. The missionary described the local collections as "frequently barefaced extortion”. He explained that "women went round to collect the money and asked every man for a sum based on what they knew him to be worth. If their demand was not complied with, they would refuse to take anything at all and threatened to post the family name all over the city walls as niggards who refused to help towards the public weal". Perhaps too, in Hong Kong this may still go on to some extent. Statistics — Temples in Hong Kong and Macau Household altars and unmanned sea-side and streetside shrines have not been included in the statistics, except in the case of the streetside shrines which are roofed buildings large enough to entertain several humans standing up. These have been included under temples. The unmanned smaller public shrines run to about several hundred in Hong Kong with a further eighty in Macau. There are about three hundred and ninety-six temples and monasteries in Hong Kong. Of these as many as ninety-eight are (or were before reclamation projects were completed) coastal temples dedicated to gods or goddesses of the seas; one hundred and thirty-five are Buddhist monasteries or nunneries; two hundred and forty-six are folk religion temples and two dozen are Daoist temples ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1980 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/kh04md207 132 NOTES AND QUERIES Is this mismanagement? It can be called mismanagement by all who are dissatisfied: by ardent Maoists and by the proponents of greater liberalization. Teng Hsiao-p'ing must feel sometimes like a squeezed beancake. He will be criticized by some no matter what he does. The reader must be tired of articles that breathlessly give eye-witness accounts of the truth about China. There is no simple truth about China, which is too large and complicated a country. Articles about it often tell more about the observer than the observed; and about those on whom the observer depended for his information. This problem is not unique to China. England is complicated. The United States is more complicated. Russia and China are still more complicated. About Russia it is hard to learn because of the paranoid secrecy emanating from the Kremlin. About China it is hard to learn because of its long history of ups and downs, ins and outs, and the tendency of most Chinese to assume that "behind the curtain" much is going on that differs from what is going on in public view... During my whole trip in China I never heard any Chinese bring up Mao Tse-tung. His portrait was still everywhere—though I have heard that it is rarer in Canton. There was a very long line of people waiting to enter his mausoleum in Peking. But no guide—no one at all, in fact—brought up the name of Chairman Mao. I had an interesting experience in Nanking. The local head of the China Travel Service gave our tour-group a banquet in order to make amends for a mix-up about our arrival in his city. At the end of the banquet he proposed a toast to friendship between China and the United States, to future tourism, and so on. Then one of our tour group responded by proposing a toast to Mao Tse-tung. I was watching our host's face. He was at a loss. Then, after a moment's pause, he joined in the toast. If I had been he, I would have responded with a toast to George Washington. I had very good luck in visiting monasteries and meeting monks when I went to Sian, Loyang, Nanking, Soochow, Shanghai, and Peking. I have described some of what I learned in the Far Eastern Economic Review for August 15, 1980. Let me say here only that my good luck was because China is a free country today in a way that the Soviet Union is not. While my tour group went off in a bus to see the sights, I hired a taxi and visited a monastery. Only on ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1983 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/j9607p61v 80 words of Chinese origin are almost always anglicized in pronunciation. There may be doubt concerning how the word should be pronounced, but rarely is the Chinese pronunciation retained. For example, take the word cheongsam. The affricate /ts/ is replaced by the English /ch/ and the rounded vowel similar to that in the English "bird", but with lip-rounding, is replaced by a vowel identical to that in the English 'long'. Similarly in fung shui the Cantonese diphthong /oey/ (similar to that in the French 'lui') is substituted by the /u/ + /i/ sequence as in the English 'ruin'. On the graphological level, there is no question of the loans being written in Chinese characters. The letters of English alphabet may however occur in rather unfamiliar combinations, as in the case of e-o-n-g occurring in cheongsam, and u-e-y in chopsuey. Another requirement for full assimilation is related to the grammatical status of the word. Grammatically, it is assigned to a word class, or may have multiple-class membership. It behaves like other members of the class, so that if it is a countable noun it is inflected for number, and if it is a verb, it can take a past tense ending, and so on. Thus typhoon is inflected for number and kowtow for person and tense. It obeys the syntactical rules of the language in combining with other words to form grammatical sentences. For example, the headline 'Running water for lamas' occurs in The South China Morning Post, (7/82) also in the same paper, someone is described as 'mingling with the rich tai tais'. The word is not restricted in occurrence to limited contexts, but may be found to combine freely with other words to form bigger constructions, so that one can speak of Bruce Li as a 'kung fu superstar' The South China Morning Post (26/4/82), while in Noble House the writer mentions ‘a flood of amah Cantonese' (p. 1017). Cheongsam, in its past participle form, functions as an adjective in ‘cheongsamed girl', as used by Richard Hughes (p. 98) and James Clavell (N.H., p. 9). Derivational affixes may be added, as when ‘ism' or ‘ist' is added to the loans tao, lama, Mao, giving taoist, taoism, lamaism, Maoist and so on. It does not matter that Confucius originally derives from a surname plus a title; now that it has been established in the English language, one can derive Confucian and Confucianism from it. Again, it is of no significance that the model for Shanghai ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 21 nineteenth-century sinologists had laid the foundations for modern China in studies in the West. But this long episode of almost total neglect of China was to come to an end with the unexpected ascendancy of Communist China. French intellectuals were caught completely unprepared, all the more since there was strictly no equivalent in France to the sympathetic writings of Snow, Smedley and so many other reporters who had prepared at least some sections of British and American public opinion for the Communist takeover. The French intellectual scene was a blank page - a very Maoist feature and this was a decisive contributing factor to what has since been described as the 'love affair' between Maoist China and French intellectuals. This love affair is a very complex story, and requires a much closer look. It had first of all to do with the rejection on the part of the French intellectuals of Soviet-styled communism, once so popular with them. China and Maoism provided ex-Communist Party members with an occasion to settle their accounts with Moscow. Chinese communism was also considered a valuable experiment in Marxist economic theory, and noted economists, such as Charles Bettelheim, always made this point. For Jean-Paul Sartre, who was in the late 1960s at the peak of his cultural and political prestige, Peking was definitely different from Moscow. China also met a basic aspiration among French left-wing intellectuals, which I would describe as political exoticism, that is, the tendency to look for a political homeland and model of reference in distant, exotic countries. At times in Cuba, at one time in Algeria, in Vietnam, then in China; each provided a substitute for the ideal society France was unable to develop at home, especially after the failure of the May '68 movement which had been so popular with most intellectuals, and not only with students. The radical young intellectuals of the May '68 generation, such as André Glucksmann and Bernard-Henri Lévy, who were later to establish themselves as trendy 'new philosophers', were among the most devoted Maoists. — But it would be just too easy to restrict the love affair between Maoism and French intellectuals to such radical groups. At least ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 22 Two completely different factors come into the picture, namely Gaullism and Italy. A hidden but deep correspondence had always existed between Gaullists and Maoists. Both emphasised the importance of historical roots and long-term perspectives, for France de toujours as well as for the Sons of the Han on their everlasting Yellow Earth. Both had refused to align their nuclear policies with the strategies of the superpowers. André Malraux's visit to China in the 1960s, both as a former activist in the 1926-27 revolution and as a prominent Gaullist intellectual, was a symbolic episode, much publicised in France. Had General de Gaulle not died suddenly in 1970, he most probably would have paid Mao Zedong the visit already arranged by his old companion Etienne Manach, then French Ambassador to Peking. It would have been an extraordinary performance, in both the grand French and Chinese traditions. Italy was also very influential. There has always been a special connection between Italy and China. Chinese intellectuals have always felt very much at home in Italy, and the active sympathy for Maoist China of such prominent Italian intellectuals as Malaparte, Alberto Moravia and Maria-Antonietta Macchiocchi certainly made an impact on Parisian literary circles. Altogether, many influential French intellectuals were in those years very keen on visiting China and however brief their visit publicising their sympathy for China. Be they Claude Roy, Etiemble, Roland Barthes, Philippe Sollers, Julia Kristeva18 or many others, their individual approaches may have differed one from another, but they were all indulging in China as if their commitment to China was more important than China itself. They also affected a definitely revivalistic attitude, as if they were the new sinophiles in the grand eighteenth-century tradition. By and large, Maoist China was very chic in French cultural life of the 1950s and 1960s. The theatres were packed full at every Peking Opera visit, the books of Han Suyin sold very well, Chinese exhibitions of art at the Grand Palais were a must, the veteran film-director Joris Ivens, Dutch by birth but settled in France, embarked on a 12-hour film on Yu Gong and People's China's achievements, and the well-established literary publishing series ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 23 La Pléiade was wide open to classical Chinese literature, which benefited from the Maoist vogue. The Maoist mirage met nevertheless with reservations and condemnations from various quarters — from the conservative Catholic right-wing and also from the pro-Moscow French Communist Party, which was hardly surprising, but also from two more specific groups, rather influential among intellectuals. The academic sinologists, on one hand, were very critical of the pro-Maoist fashion; with very few exceptions, they were well aware of the simplistic naivety of the new sinophiles. Yet, one should wonder whether their open hostility towards the fashionable intellectuals was not, after all, a kind of defensive reaction against what sinologists considered to be trespassing on their professional estate! On the other hand, pro-Maoist intellectuals were harassed pitilessly by a radical and very vociferous group, the young situationists, whose overall attack against established cultural values of every kind had been an important contribution to the May '68 movement. Thus, an unexpected anti-Maoist alliance was formed between respectable sinologists and sniping situationists, which was to make a lasting impact in France and in which the Canberra academic scene also became involved. Looking at this strange, erratic, very emotional love affair at a distance, some fifteen or twenty years later, how should we react — including myself? The whole affair was certainly a strange combination of affectation and naivety, of misinformation and self-complacency, which deserves blame and regret and nothing else. We were definitely lacking intellectual rigour, caution, and integrity. Not only did we satisfy ourselves with a rosy picture of China, which was conveyed to us by visitors on short-term and carefully controlled tours, but we made this rosy picture an essential ingredient of our social prestige, our publishing careers, our popularity with the media. We failed completely to assess properly our responsibility towards French public opinion and especially towards those for whom China understandably meant hope, determination, the ability to shape one's own future. I am not sure that self-criticism was something George Ernest Morrison was quite familiar with. But I am pleased that the present Morrison Lecture gives me a convenient occasion for expressing such regret. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 Yet I have no regrets whatsoever for the basic motivations which led so many French radical intellectuals to side with Mao-ism in the turbulent 1970s. Some of the trendy Maoists may have been concerned most of all with the image of China they were propagating for their own satisfaction and prestige. Yet others, as I can testify, had more sincere and far-reaching motivations. We took seriously the 'mass line', in contrast to politics set at the top. People's communes appealed all the more to us, since uncontrolled urban growth had become a cornerstone of the French Fifth Republic's overall economic strategies. "To rely on one's own strength,' zili gengsheng, made sense to us, against the prevailing trends towards cultural banalisation of French daily life on the American model. 'Bombard the headquarters' was a slogan well-received among those who, after the failure of the May '68 movement, had experienced the backlash of the established political parties regaining their monopoly over French political life. We were certainly wrong in our simplified approach to the complex realities of Chinese politics and Chinese society. But looking at it from a distance, we were not necessarily wrong in advocating Maoist analyses and Maoist thinking so as to approach critically what we probably knew better than China, namely France itself. The major intellectual encounter between China and France in the eighteenth century belongs to the past; the solitary French sinophiles of the nineteenth century have remained marginal in French literary history, and the Maoist love affair of the 1960s and early 1970s has ended pathetically, as most love affairs do. What next? One should perhaps consider, by way of conclusion, the relevance China may still have, in relation to the French intellectual crisis of the 1980s. To describe present-day France in terms of an intellectual crisis may just be too easy, for genuine intellectual life is by nature a crisis in itself, a clash between the world of ideas and the real world, a clash between the old and the new. Every generation is involved in such crises. But the problems French intellectuals are facing in the 1980s go much deeper and much further, they encompass our very model of development all over the world, namely modernity. The present-day French intellectual crisis accordingly develops at two distinct levels. It still concerns French intellectuals and their role in their own society. But our French crisis is also, ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 in much broader terms, a crisis about France itself and not only its intellectuals, it is an ideological dilemma about the validity of our privileged position in the world of today. And at both levels, China is still part of our intellectual horizon. How should intellectuals stand in relation to politics? Should they be involved? The prevailing trend in today's France is almost total rejection of the intellectuel engagé figure, of the politically committed intellectual in the tradition of Voltaire and Hugo, of Emile Zola, Romain Rolland and Jean-Paul Sartre. Here China has certainly played an indirect yet influential role; for the simplistic excesses of the pro-Maoist rhetoric of yesterday and the bitter, almost overnight realisation that the Maoist mirage was just a mirage, greatly contributed to the discredit of the intellectuel engagé. Ironically enough, the same ex-radicals who are presently disavowing their Maoist past have not altogether given up their incorrigible tendency to look abroad for an ideal society. The New Philosophers have turned far away from China to a completely new direction, namely the United States and Reaganism. This is the New Libertarian Right, campaigning in France for economic deregulation and military solidarity with Washington. Another critical question for present-day French intellectuals deals with their own position in society at large. With the present-day tendency towards elitist professionalisation of academics, doctors, architects and engineers, the ‘barefoot doctor' of the Maoist era appears more and more remote. But did the barefoot doctor just represent a Utopian dream, a Rousseauistic image? Interestingly enough, in many developing countries of Asia and Africa, people who probably never read a line of Mao Zedong in their lives commonly refer to ‘barefoot architects', more familiar with local building materials than with reinforced concrete, and more concerned with the needs of the ordinary people than with the tastes of high-ranking business executives in their luxury hotels. More generally, the relevance of the Western model of development for most African, Asian, South American and also Pacific countries is vigorously debated today among French and other Western intellectuals, and this brings us back to China. How to balance heavily centralised technologies, "white elephants' such as ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1987 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/rx919b522 26 giant dams, expressways, large-scale forestry felling, with 'appropriate technologies' better adjusted to the natural and social environment? How to check the power and influence of foreign technicians indifferent to local problems? How to control the abysmal growth of destitute shanty towns? These basic problems of China have become the problems of Amazonia, South Asia, Black Africa, Melanesia. The interests of some Parisian intellectuals may have shifted elsewhere, but other intellectuals have remained deeply concerned with the relevance, or the irrelevance, of our Western model of development for less affluent countries. In a recent book dealing with the problems of development, Edgard Pisani, a French intellectual who is also a former French High Commissioner in New Caledonia, has compared the energy gains offered by a large-scale modern dam with the energy savings of 5,000 peasant earthenware stoves. His point is this: these 5,000 stoves are very cheaply produced and they save the heat otherwise wasted when the kettle was just put on stones; these stoves compare very favourably in terms of energy gains with the expensive dam built by transnational corporations under the supervision of highly-paid foreign experts. Pisani is a moderate social democrat. He never indulged in radical Maoism. Yet his argument clearly amounts to a posthumous and quite unexpected validation of some basic themes of the Great Leap Forward thirty years ago. From Watteau paintings and the Pompadour festivities to peasant stoves in Black Africa, from the Confucian mirage of the eighteenth century to the Maoist mirage of the twentieth century, from Victor Hugo's maledictions against Anglo-French vandalism in Peking to the Gaullian joint celebration of France de toujours and Chine de toujours, from the Philosophes' appeal to China against the tyranny of the old monarchy to the New Radicals' appeal to China against the tyranny of the Western model of development, the story of Sino-French intellectual relations for the last three centuries has been extraordinarily rich and diversified. From this kaleidoscopic sequence, possibly the most sensitive, the most radical and the most disruptive image is that of Baudelaire: Just as in the old days we would leave for China ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1990 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/d79206299 41 Kong: Oxford Univ. Press, 1983), 156-160 & 163-164, on the Jiao festivals celebrated between 1964 and 1972 in Ma Tau Wai, Nga Tsin Wai, Tung Chung and Tai O. N Mathias, John R.G., Study of the Jiao: a Taoist Ritual in Kam Tin in the Hong Kong New Territories (unpublished D.Phil. thesis, Oxford University, 1977-78). #I Kani, Hiroaki, "Hồn Kôn Chugokujin no shukyo shiso no ichidan nitsuite" Shigaku 40, no. 2 & 3 (1967). 22 Obuchi, Ninji, “Hon Kon no tokyo girei" |Daoist ritual in Hong Kong] in Ikeda Sueri Hakase Koki Kinen Toyo Gaku Ronshu (Tokyo, 1980), 753-769. 27 Yoshihara, Katsuo. "Shukyo" [Religion] in Kani Hiroaki (ed.) Motto Shiritai Hon Kon (Tokyo: Kobundo, 1984), 184-191. 11 See note 37. 14 I have been told that Dr. Faure had a manuscript on the Jiao festival sent to a publisher in Hong Kong. However, due to whatever reasons, it has not yet been published. See also Hayes, 164, about Faure's book on Jiao festivals. 36 I was probably the only researcher who participated in the 1980 Kau Lau Wan Jiao festival when I was first introduced by the late Prof. B.E. Ward and Dr. S.H. Wang to the Jiao festival celebrated by the fishing village. In October the same year, Dr. Faure and I attended the Jiao festival at Pak Kong, Sai Kung. In November, the late Dr. Lu Bin-chuan of the Music Department of CUHK, Dr. Lu's student Mr. Chan Wing-Hoi and I attended the Jiao festival in Fanling. Dr. Faure, Prof. Ward and Prof. Tanaka also came. The Jiao festival of Fanling and that of other areas are mentioned here and there in Faure's 1986 book. In December 1980 students of CUHK under the guidance of Dr. Faure, Dr. Wang and Prof. Ward started an ethnographical research on the Jiao festival in Ho Chung, Sai Kung. A detailed report of daily rituals was written by Lee Lai-mui and Cheng Shui Kwan, two CUHK students majoring in History and minoring in Anthropology. The report was sent to interested scholars. Unfortunately it has never been published. Two students of the CUHK at that time should perhaps be mentioned here: Chan Wing-hoi, who specializes in music and computer, was employed by the History Museum of Hong Kong to study the Kam Tin Jiao festival in 1985, a report of which was published in the Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. 29 (1989). Chan's master's thesis on folk music in Hong Kong also includes a chapter on the ritual music played by the Taoists at the Jiao festival. Chan also has an ethnography on the 1986 Shek O Jiao festival published in the Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society Vol. 26 (1986), 78-101. The master's thesis of Leung Chor-on, now Ph.D. candidate of Cambridge University, submitted to the Anthropology Department of the CUHK gives a good account of the ritual symbols of the festival. Chan, Leung and I held a seminar on Jiao festivals on Dec. 11, 1988 for the "Research Circle of the Regional Society of Southern China" focusing on musical, ritual and social aspects of the festival. 27 Locally published works besides those by Faure and my own are: - (a) Chamberlain, Jonathan, "Introduction” in Chamberlain J. and Iam Lambot The Bun Festival of Cheung Chau (Hong Kong: Studio Publication, 1990). This is largely a collection of photos. Chamberlain's introduction is very descriptive but no sources are quoted. (b) Chan Wing-hoi, “Observations at the Jiu [Jiao] festival of Shek O and Tai Long Wan, 1986" Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society Vol. 26 (1986), 78-101. Chan recorded meticulously what he was told and observed about the 'settlement', the 'participants', the "ritual site", the "local gods" and the "events". (c) Xiao, Kuo-jian (Anthony K.K. Siu), Xianggang Xiandai Shehui [Pre-modern society of Hong Kong] (Hong Kong: Chung Wah, 1990), 86-97. Xiao attempts to illustrate three reasons why the communities in Hong Kong celebrate the Jiao. The first reason is to plead for fortune, to pay sacrifices to the gods, to drive away evils and to prevent 4 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1996 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/3n209j641 95 his own funeral At the next level in the hierarchy he proceeds to mastership (tou sai) through a still more important ceremony. But this already high position can be still further improved, to two higher levels with more important qualifications of varying degrees. Henceforth, they will use, in similar religious contexts, what one may call a 'knightly' or 'gentlemanly' name. For instance, a man who has already been granted a fa boa, as in the example Tang Fa On' given above, will now change it to Tang On yet-long' if he is a first-born, meaning 'On, the First Squire of the Tang Family'. If he is a second or third son, this will also be stated in a similar way. This tradition is claimed to have descended from Zhang Zhao Er Lang, who, as we shall see, is known as a disciple of Lu Shan Jiu Lang since before 1220.7 I am not sure if the two styles of ordination names among the Hakka correspond in detail with this practice of the Yaos of Thailand; the Yao data suggest at least they could indicate different levels of initiation. A similar custom, though less detail is available, is found among the She minorities of China, an initiation rite for men who have reached the age of 16. The ceremony, known variously as jiaoming (perhaps corrupted form of zhouming “submitting a name for celestial/royal approval”), dushen (“ordination”), and rulu (“entering the [Daoist?] register”), although it is often described as jizu (“worship of ancestors”). Those who have been initiated through the ceremony obtain a faming, "religious title". Evidence suggests that the "religion" concerned is traced to the traditions of Lù Shan and Mao Shan, from where the first ancestor of the She is claimed to have learned magic. Literature on the She is more fragmentary on the format of the "religious title". It is known that those initiated can be called after death lang in the case of men, and niang in the case of women. It is also known that the She used the characters Da, Xiao, Bo, Qian, Wan and Nian to indicate generations. Examples of actual names confirm that those formed with numeric characters and lang follow the same style of ordination names as those of the Hakka. It should be pointed out clearly that this should not imply that the Hakka have descended from the Yao or She. There are clear evidences ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1996 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/3n209j641 101 Southern China, as the Liannan document saying the Lü Shan Jiu Lang (written Lu Shan Jiu Lang) buried his father on a mountain in Gaozhou. One major source of information of religious practice during the Song is the Southern Song work of anecdotal literature, the Yi Jian Zhi. It made frequent mentions of the well-known styles of Daoist magic such as the Thunder Magic and the Tian Xin Zheng Fa, the Buddhist Weize spell related to the Yujia style of exorcism, as well as various popular gods, and magicians who were neither Daoist or Buddhist. Some of these lay magicians practiced magic of the Daoist and Buddhist varieties mentioned above. Noticeably some of those lay magicians blew the horns [of animals] in their rites, and some were practicing what is called Mao Shan magic. It curiously made no mention of Lú Shan Jiu Lang or his immediate disciples found in Bar's passage. But as I have mentioned, sources on Chinese religion of ancient times do have many examples of divinities with names of the same form as the Lú Shan Jiu Lang and his colleagues. The latter appear to be part of the trend between Tang and the Five Dynasties during which many of these other divinities are recorded. Some of the popular gods mentioned in Yi Jian Zhi do bear four character names ending with a numeric character and lang, resembling the names of Lü Shan Jiu Lang. Earlier examples include the Zhu Wang San Lang shen mentioned during the Southern Dynasties, which the book alleges to be the name in use at its time of writing in Yielang county in the present Sichuan Province, although in this example San Lang referred to three people rather than one. During the Tang, a work of anecdotal literature recorded that during the Emperor's visit to the mountain god of Huayue, he was told about a San Lang, who appeared to be a son of the god. Another work of anecdotal literature of about the same time recorded a female shaman(?) who specialized in communicating with the Jin Tian Wang (God of Hua Shan) and his son Hua Yue San Lang. This name, and many others, which are closer to Lu Shan Jiu Lang in form, is also found in Tang stories included in the Song compilation Taiping Guang Ji. During the Five Dynasties the Lu Yi Ji recorded a Pan Gu San Lang temple in a Guangdu county of the present Sichuan Province. An early Song work on the history of the Five Dynasties mentioned that in the year 932 the Emperor of Hou Tang conferred a title (styled "General") to a Tai Shan San Lang. Early during the Song it is reported 41 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1998 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/1g05n0794 137 XU, THE DAOIST PERFECTED LORD XU ZHENJUN 許真君 THE PROTECTIVE DEITY OF JIANGXI PROVINCE KEITH STEVENS AND JENNIFER WELCH Chinese Daoist and folk religion cults can in general terms be classified as nation-wide, provincial or local cults, the latter often limited to as few as one or two villages. Most studies of such cults made during the past half century have concentrated, for very good reasons, on Fujian and Guangdong communities in Hong Kong and Macao, Taiwan and South-east Asia as well as in Fujian and Guangdong provinces, and only a handful have described in any detail those cults limited to the more remote or less accessible provinces of Mainland China. The following short study is, in truth, no more than a tolerably full outline of a provincial cult which has spread to a limited extent into the neighbouring provinces of China. It is basically a medical cult, the deity revered for his skills in healing the sick; however, in a number of places there is also the added concept of the sick being healed by the deity using his power to cast out demons of sickness. Our particular cult is centred on the not so easily accessible southern province of Jiangxi. Xu Sun, [known also as Xu Zhenren] is one of the numerous legendary Perfected Lords, the 'Immortals' or 'saints' of Daoism. He is the patron deity not only of the Xu clan but also of Jiangxi province. For at least two hundred years his cult has been very popular in the Jiangxi provincial capital, Nanchang [formerly Yu-chang] as well as throughout the whole province of Jiangxi and the immediately adjoining provinces where he is regarded as one of the most potent agents to cure sickness by ridding communities of the baleful spirits and demons who caused the sickness. He, in particular, was believed to be especially efficacious with diseases of the eye. According to Dudgeon, Xu was a doctor in Jiangxi province who, with six brothers, saved the province from devastating floods. A threesome, of Xu Zhenren and two other Immortals, Sun Zhenren and Wu Zhenren, are venerated as healers of the sick in many temples within communities from Jiangxi and Fujian, and in Fujian communities outside China. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1998 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/1g05n0794 179 was the decapitation of a Fox Fairy, possibly the wicked King's concubine, Dan Ji. In legend the spirit of a fox inhabits the body of a beautiful young woman who then bewitches and captivates men. When killed such woman immediately revert to their fox body origins. In the exhibit the young woman is standing and as the sword descends her head rolls off and rolls about on the floor before immediately reverting to its original position on her body. The boys were only too delighted to press the button to cause the head to roll again and again. Another was the birth of the Third Prince out of his caul. In legend he is born an apparent monster but after a swift slash with a sword the caul opens and the child emerges. Once more the boys played this for us several times. This was possibly not the most ideal way to be introduced to the Fengshen Yanyi. A year or so earlier my daughter and I heard of the small temple dedicated to Zhou Gong, located at the foot of Phoenix Mountain in a rural area north of Qi Shan in Shaanxi province. We drove there to find in the main hall of a memorial temple, which had just been renovated, an image of Jiang Ziya flanked by two mythological deities, Na Zha and Yang Jian [see Note 8]. The first of the two, is a seven year old youth who caused havoc in Heaven and, better known as the Third Prince. He is nowadays the primary guardian of temple altars in Taiwan where his image stands on the altar table before the main altar. His is a traditional story tracing the age-old conflict between generations, and conflict of power and responsibility. Yang Jian has certain magic powers, which he used during the conflict but is also regarded as a potent deity who protects against demonic attack. He is often referred to as Er Lang, and he and his small dog are to be seen in a number of temples and in many he is regarded as the patron deity of dogs. The murals across the whole of the main hall's side walls depict episodes from the Fengshen Yanyi complete with Jiang Ziya first mobilising the deities of heaven to help the Duke Fa, and finally, the scene of the Investiture itself on the Terrace of the Investiture. 10 A number of temples in the central-west of China used to contain large gilded 'mountains', carved structures representing a mountain with crags and caves on which were superimposed a number of carved wooden gilded images of Daoist deities. The vast majority of these were also characters from the Fengshen Yanyi.11 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1998 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/1g05n0794 180 One of the many deities canonised by Jiang at the Investiture was Tai Sui, the Ruler of the Year. In the Feng-shen Yanyi he is also known as Yin Jiao and under that title is usually represented on altars by one image. In southern Chinese communities, however, as Tai Sui he is more often portrayed by sixty separate images each representing a year of the sixty-year cycle of the Chinese calendar, and devotees wishing to seek his aid will place spirit money offerings under the image in the group representing the year of the devotee's birth. In a number of the smaller popular religion temples in Hong Kong and Macau several rows of Tai Sui images, depicting all sixty, line one of the sidewalls of the main hall. Although in a few temples each of the sixty images is carved with unique characteristics, in the majority they are merely sixty identical heads, each mounted on a frame concealed under a red cloth robe. Even when the deity is portrayed as a single image, normally he can easily be identified by the pile of spirit money placed under his image. Some months later, this time in central Shanxi province, we came across a former temple which had been converted into what can only be described as a "waxworks" museum of celestial and historical deities. The contents of the former temple had been destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, whilst the structure had recently, in 1995, been turned into a museum. It stands on the major highway between Taiyuan, the provincial capital, and Pingyao, to the south, but rather surprisingly no attempt seemed to have been made to advertise its presence to passing motorists. The halls had been labelled guiding visitors to Historical Heroes, The Eight Immortals, Mythological Worthies and the Underworld. These two examples, and there are probably more, are local provincial or county initiatives to remind Chinese of their cultural, feudal heritage but without offering any opportunity for worship or reverence. Similar refurbishing has taken place of many of the old, larger Buddhist and Daoist monasteries in northern China but with a difference. These too are places where visitors can nowadays pass several hours of pleasurable 'tourism' but a number of them have also reverted to being working temples and monasteries with priests and rituals. The weekend visitors from the cities enjoy the scenery and ambience and in some temples offer up incense without let or hindrance to one or more of the major deities. Although to foreign visitors what we saw ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2000 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/nk328168n 120 disasters.' She is portrayed as a Daoist deity sitting cross-legged on a lotus, with gilded robes and a small crown, and with eight arms and three faces. Flanking her are two demonic, black-skinned deities standing, each with six arms and dressed in armour, holding weapons and charms in each of their hands. They are her attendants known here as Gnasher, Qiechi J, and Biter, Yaoya, titles not encountered anywhere else. The sixty Taisui images stand on lower tiers in two groups in five rows, either side of a space between the groups leading from the main entrance to the main deity on the top tier. But before the main deity on the second tier is a lone Taisui, the Taisui of the current year, changed annually at the Lunar New Year. Finally, the sets of double doors to the hall are decorated with depictions of the deities of the Twenty-eight Constellations +, the Ershi ba Xiuxing each deity having a 'human' form and its own attributes. The second temple is some fifteen miles from Nanchang, the provincial capital of Jiangxi province in mainland China. Once more there is a separate hall but here dedicated to the wife of the main deity of the complex, the major medical god Xu Zhenjun. In the centre of the Hall is a large rectangular altar with the sixty Taisui ranged on all four sides along two tiers, with the image of Xu's wife and her two attendants positioned on the top of the third tier where she is identified merely as 'Xu's wife,' furen A. Her Hall, the Furen Gong, has stood within the temple complex since at least 1820 though it, together with the other temple halls, has been destroyed three times. Once apparently by accident in 1820, once by the Taiping iconoclasts in 1856 and finally by the Red Guards in 1966. However, it has only been within the last century that her hall has had images of the Taisui added to the gods within the complex and placed on the lower tiers of the plinth of her altar. The temple custodian did not know who decided on this addition, why or when. In both of these temples, as in a number of other temples, the images of the sixty Taisui are portrayed as individuals with unique characteristics. A few look demonic, the majority are normal humans, with or without facial hair, young and old, and all are seated and dressed in a wide range of robes. Some are soldiers, some elderly mandarins - and although from lists provided in temples they all have individual personal names, none apart from the President, Yin Jiao, would appear to be recorded in legend or myth. However, several god carvers in ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2000 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/nk328168n 133 chambers or tanks. The most famous of the early clocks was constructed in the then national capital, Kaifeng, about the time of the Norman Conquest of Britain, by Su Song [1020 - 1101 AD]. Su Song, born in Tongan county in Fujian province where he is still revered within the Su ancestral hall, created an astronomical clocktower in which he incorporated his mechanical clock, a celestial globe and an armillary sphere. The difference between water clocks until the time of Su Song and his invention was his creation of an escapement mechanism which controlled the regular movement of the small water tanks providing previously unheard of accuracy. The Twenty-eight Constellations In early China the visible stars were divided into 28 zones or constellations, referred to as lunar mansions. These provided manageable proportions of the heavens, with seven in each of the four directions. The selection of twenty-eight reflects the time it takes the moon to make a complete circuit of the stars, a fraction under twenty-eight days. Books describing such celestial spirits, printed in Taiwan, illustrate each spirit with a sketch showing the "human" form and giving its attributes. Although usually regarded as a group, in some places a number of these celestial spirits, always mythological, are referred to individually in legend or by ritual specialists. According to religious specialists each of the stellar deities of the Twenty-eight Constellations has a title and a specific role, the latter differing depending upon the individual ritual specialists or books. The Pole Star was also the celestial base of the several deities, the main one being the Northern Emperor, also known as the Dark Warrior, Xuan Wu, one of the spirits of great antiquity who ruled one quarter of the universe. Each of the Thirty-six stars of the Plough was a legendary hero recorded in one of the numerous stories of the deification of and struggles between the deities. They are deities of good omen, whereas the Seventy-two Stars of ill-omen, without individual legends, are just that, stellar spirits of bad luck. The great popularity of the Northern Emperor has rested for many centuries on devotees' belief in the mighty magical powers with which he suppresses demonic forces with his Daoist Pole Star sect, Beiji Pai, of which he is the patron, centred at Wudang Shan in Hubei. Xuan Wu was the Lord of the northern sector of the 28 Lunar Mansions and as one of the Spirits of the Four ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2000 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/nk328168n 134 Quadrants of the 28 Heavenly Constellations, the image of Chen Wu [Xuan Wu], as Lord of the North, was usually to be seen on altars, usually in Daoist monastery or temple entrance halls, together with the Azure Dragon [Qing Long] of the East, the Vermilion Bird [Zhu Qiao] of the South and the White Tiger [Bai Hu] of the West, where they were the guardians. Although Tai Sui is the Minister of Time, another major deity, Fu Xi, has been credited not only with the establishment of kingly rule, of marriage laws, but also the computation of time by inventing a form of calendar using a knotted cord. The Eight Trigrams [bagua] are attributed to him as well as the development of a system of fortune telling using these trigrams which has governed the lives of a great many Chinese ever since. Yang Ren There is ambiguity over the rôles of the two deities, Yin Jiao and Yang Ren. In the very early days, before the emergence of the concept of the stems, the twelve branches were represented by images of the deities of the year with all twelve portrayed on altars in temples, especially in northern China where they were regarded as an entity commanded by Yang Ren. Later, when the Sixty Spirits of Taisui, that is the sixty cyclic deities, replaced the Twelve, they too were commanded by Yang Ren - or by Yin Jiao depending on local legend. According to the Fengshen Yanyi Yang Ren is the Jiazi Taisui [the first of the sixty combinations] and is known as Jiazi Taisui Zhengshen. XIE. [see photograph 4: with small hands emerging from the eye sockets] whilst Yin Jiao, as we have seen above, was identified in the same historical novel as the President of the Ministry of Time. Though we have accepted Yin Jiao as the President of the Ministry and Yang Ren being the identity of the primary Taisui, the picture is far from conclusive. The Ten Stems and Twelve Branches have been represented in human form in a number of temples but, as far as can be ascertained, none has been connected with the Lord of Time, Taisui. One of two side walls of the main hall of a temple near Pingyang in Shanxi province representing the Lord of the Northern Dipper, Zhen Wu, contains 13th century frescoes depicting ten figures. These represent five of the Ten ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 60 undimmed, and taking command of an army, first in face of a threatened invasion by the dreaded Huns of Central Asia, and again later, in AD 48, to pacify the wild aboriginal tribes of Hunan. However, he died during the campaign in Hunan. Reverend Henry15 referred to Fupo Jiangjun, as a Cantonese deity who had temples scattered along the vicinity of the Pearl and West Rivers where he was worshipped by boatmen and travellers. The reason for his popularity apparently was because it was widely believed that Fupo and his army had crossed the range between Hunan and Guangdong, conquering south China, using double-decker troop carrying boats to ferry his troops from the hinterland of Hunan to Guangzhou. The boats had to be portered across the mountains against all odds. 16 Mesny noted that a number of temples in Guangxi honouring Fupo had kept alive the memory of his martial deeds and exploits. A temple on the West River near the great rapids was striking for its perfect preservation. It was kept in repair, wrote Mesny, by boatmen who regarded the deity in some special manner. In Taiwan Ma Yuan is the main deity in some half a dozen temples where he is known as Fushun Jiangjun. c] The Great Emperor, the Plum Blossom Immortal, Mei Xian Dadi ★✩, is a minor Daoist cult Immortal whose image has only been noted on the altars of three temples, all within the Hainanese communities in Kranji, Singapore. His title however appears on the temple deity list together with other deities in five temples in southern Malaysia. Temple keepers agree that the Plum Blossom Immortal was a famous doctor who, according to a god carver, bore the personal name of Zhang Chuang, lived somewhere in China many centuries ago, and is now particularly revered by pregnant women who he protects from malignant forces. He also helps them by ensuring that the babes themselves are small and therefore do not cause any injury to the mother during birth. Images of the Plum Blossom Immortal have no unique characteristics and vary considerably from temple to temple. Two depict him seated, and at first glance looking somewhat like Guan Gong, ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 71 obvious to any Chinese with an ounce of nous. Two years later he wrote a play, Hai Rui Dismissed, purporting to be about Hai Rui. This was seen as a covert attack on Mao Zedong's purge of Marshal Peng Dehuai who had openly blamed Mao for the 1959 famine. The purge of the Peking hierarchy led by Yao Wenyuan, a Communist political writer in 1965 [who was later one of the Gang of Four], is usually seen as the overture to the Cultural Revolution in China, Hai Rui being used as a symbol for Peng Dehuai, Mao's fallen rival. In a Hainanese community temple dedicated to the Jade Emperor near Bukit Mertajam in northern Malaysia two images flanked the main deity, on his left hand his Fourth Daughter and on his right Luo Yanhua, about whom nothing more is known other than she is claimed to be a unique Hainanese deity. Her image has not been seen or recorded anywhere else, hand, and aide to the Fourth Daughter. Although Lishan Laomu is primarily a Chaozhou local folk religion cult goddess she is also worshipped widely in Hainanese temples where she is regarded as a Hainanese cult. Lishan Laomu is her more popular title rather than Lishan Shengmu, though considering the ambiguities in legend, title and the initial character, it is open to question whether we might have more than one deity here. Three different characters for Li, all homophones, have been noted. The first means black, the second pear, and the third black horse. The first is the more popular version in central Malaysia and Hong Kong. The second appears to be the character preferred by the Hainanese, and the third has only been encountered in Taiwanese temples. She was referred to in a Saigon Hainanese temple as either Yimei Niangniang 懿美娘娘 or Yide Niangniang 懿德娘娘. An elderly lady temple keeper in Kowloon approached the deity and "introduced" me to Lishan Shengmu as ‘a foreigner who wished to disperse the mists of his ignorance.' She told me that Miss Fan, a Daoist nun, had been summoned by Tian Hou to Heaven to be trained to become an Immortal and is now a caring spirit known as Lishan Shengmu, the Saintly Mother [or Matron] Lishan. In an interesting but typical misconception an odd title of a deity was noted in a temple in Lincoln Road in Singapore where the custodian who claimed to be Hainanese also claimed that all the deities were ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 78 Hainan island as well as within Hainanese communities in south-east Asia. Although their legends are unique to Hainanese they are similar in style and format to those told in other ethnic groups. Sadly, most of the rural temples on Hainan island itself have little left of their original images following the ravages of the Cultural Revolution. It is fortunate that we do still have several Hainanese communities in south-east Asia where little has changed over the past century. However, intermarriage between Hainanese devotees and those of other Han ethnic groups has meant that to identify cults as uniquely Hainanese has become that much more difficult. NOTES 1 2 Popular or folk religion is an amalgam of Buddhist, Daoist and local beliefs ignored by Confucianists, Buddhists and Daoists as well as by the majority of educated Chinese. Hengwa is sometimes referred to as the Puxian sub-group. Hokkien is the Fujian linguistic group word for Fujian people as well as their language. Minnan is the area of southern Fujian province from which many immigrants to Taiwan and South-east Asia originated and is a linguistic sub-group of Hokkien. 4 Buddhist and Daoist images on such altars have not been included in this article, even though a number have been seen on folk religion altars in Hainanese temples, as they are all revered China-wide. 5 Ma Zu is primarily the Fujian community title for Tian Hou. 7 Both Third and Fourth are deities that have been noted on Hainan island and within Hainanese overseas communities. An entirely different deity, the Saintly Matron of Wenzhou, Wenzhou Shengmu would appear not to be connected in any way with Wenzhou Houwang. Nor has she been noted on altars within the overseas southern Chinese communities. She has only been noted by William Mesny who saw an image of her in Zhejiang province in 1896 [doubtless connected with the local coastal city of Wenzhou], and suggested that as her surname appeared to have been Lin she may well be Tian Hou, the patron goddess of seafarers. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 197 Promises were made that other colporteurs would continue to stop by Poklo, and so Ch'ea left his Hong Kong connections to return to an uncertain future. PART THREE: Darkness outside, light within: Chinese cultural rejections of Ch'ea's Christian way No further contact with Ch'ea occurred for nearly a year after he left for Poklo, partly because of changing circumstances in Hong Kong that prevented any more aggressive strategies from taking shape. Legge himself had already been living as a widower since October 1852, his wife Mary Isabella (1817-1852) succumbing to what was probably advancing tuberculosis during a burdensome delivery of a stillborn child.34 Longing to see his children who had been receiving their education in Scotland since 1853, but also anxious to show the first fruits of his plans for the Chinese Classics to the London Missionary Society Directors, Legge was predisposed to staying close to Hong Kong and not taking trips into the nearby mainland. The Arrow Lorcha affair in October 1856 heightened the political tensions over supposed conflicts in treaty provisions between the Qing and British empires, lending just enough reason for British officials to initiate full-scale war in December. Whatever plans there were for "nurturing" and "supporting" Ch'ea, the declaration of war made travel inside China for foreigners literally impossible. 35 In the meantime, Ch'ea had to make his own way. Soon after he returned to Poklo he officially gave up his "employment in the sacred temple [of Master Kong]" and apparently devoted his free time to reading the books brought with him from Hong Kong. Family members charged him with following a foreigner's religion, suggesting that he had given up his allegiance to the Manchurian empire. Neighbours and others considered him either to be mad or possessed, the latter group throwing water on him (blessed in one of the Daoist temples?) to cast out the demons. What is significant, and may not be fully understood at first notice, is that these reactions occurred months before any outright military hostilities had begun (the so-called Second Opium War). "Following ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 199 to justify any kind of violence against that "other" as a form of cultural and social self-preservation. "Foreign demons" were constructs of a political discourse which played on the common people's fears, even to the point of instituting extensive studies in teratology (the study of monstrous forms of animals and plants) as a way of explaining the foreign "things." 39 In taking a "China-centred approach" to studying the implications of Ch'ea's Christian conversion, these factors should be explored in two areas: the teratologisation of Jesus and the whiplash of an earlier imperial racism expressed in Manchurian campaigns against any intellectuals who strongly supported Hàn cultural motifs. 40 41 In a rare picture of the transmogrification of "foreign teachings" in order to mark them out for vilification and destruction, Paul Cohen has illustrated how one Qing scholar, Tián Xingshu (1837-1877), produced a blistering lampoon of Christianity in publicly displayed placards during the 1860s. The "Lord Jesus" (Zhu Yésu) was depicted in cartoon-like caricatures as the "Pig Jesus" (Ju Yésu), worshipped by "foreign devils" in bizarre and salacious rites. Christian "devils" are depicted as cannibalizing unsuspecting children and religious seekers, using their religious rites as a cover-up for the most immoral and inhumane forms of treatment that a Chinese person could imagine. Near the end of his book, Bixié jìshí (The Truth about Records of Exorcising Evil Spirits12), Tián depicts a righteous mandarin ordering the "shooting of Pig [Jesus] and the beheading of the Goats [foreigners]." But this is not the end. Following long traditions found in many Chinese Buddhist or Daoist temple reliefs, Tián capsulizes the defamation by illustrating the terrible purgatorial punishments deserved by the "Pig Incarnate" (jujing) in some lower level of Chinese hells. Any partially literate and sensitive Chinese citizen would obviously want to be rid of such a terrible menace to their own society. How could any Chinese person, convinced that these claims were false and purposefully misleading derisions, seek to redirect mobs angered by these putative evils of "foreign torturers"743 Yet an even deeper level of antagonism and racism had been instigated from the highest imperial offices during the 17th and ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 224 (Sevenoaks: Hodder and Stoughton, 1981), the first volume subtitled Barbarians At The Gates, pp. 143-147, 174-175, 224-225. 11. Both Hong Réngan and He Jinshan have been discussed in detail in Pfister's Striving for "The Whole Duty of Man", especially chapters 4-6. A more thorough study of He Jinshan's contribution to Chinese Christian history by Lauren Pfister is an essay entitled "A Transmitter but not a Creator: The Creative Transmission of Protestant Biblical Traditions by Ho Tsun-Sheen (1817-1871)” in Irene Eber, et. al., eds., Bible in Modern China: The Literary and Intellectual Impact (Nettetal: Steyler Verlag, 1999), pp. 165-197. 12. The name of Ch'ëa Kam-Kwong is constituted by particular Chinese characters Legge described as the "Golden Light Chariot," a way of expressing in English what the common meaning of each character is. Unfortunately, two misspellings have predominated in other literature, one in English and one in Chinese. In English, we surmise that Helen Edith Legge put together the typescript entitled "Che'a Kin-KWáng," horribly mixing up the transliteration with something like the proper name in Hoklo dialect, but the given name in Mandarin. Legge never uses these transliterations in his own writings. In Chinese, Wáng Tão wrote the wrong characters for the name in his personal diary for 1862 when he had first come to Hong Kong, showing also his struggle in understanding Cantonese pronunciations, making his given name "Embroidered River" (M. Jinjiang, C. Gam-gong) presumably by guessing from the sounds he heard from other Hong Kong Chinese Christians who referred to him. Consult Fang Xing and Tăng Zhijūn, eds., Wáng Tão rìjì (Wáng Tāo ’s Diary) (Beijing: Zhōnghuá Book Store, 1987), pp. 196-197, record for the date of the 10th month and 15th day of the lunar calendar (or a day in September, 1862). 13. There is no study of Ch'ea Kam-Kwong in Chinese language sources as far as I know, and very little published about him in English after the 1860s. Part of the reason, as will be argued below, is that his murder became an embarrassment to both the British embassy and the Qing dynasty at the time. 14. Legge wrote memorials for his elder brother, an important Congregational minister in Great Britain, George Legge (1802-1860), and his co-pastor, Hé Jinshan, published in 1863 and 1872 respectively. See the typescript on the "Sketch of the Life of Ho Tsun-sheen" in SOAS/CWM/South China/Personal/Legge/Box 7, the original manuscript on Ch'a being held in the Bodleian Library (the second item in MS Eng. misc. c. 865, fol. 1-19). Consult the long introduction written for George Legge's Lectures on Theology, Science and Revelation already mentioned above. The text of "Che'a Kin-KWáng” is a compilation done most likely by his daughter, Helen Edith Legge. It uses many original and secondary sources citing her father's and other missionaries' writings, but also includes some perspectives and interpretations which may not portray the full story. 15. The story of their visit to Daoist and Buddhist sites on Mount Lo-fow is described in Legge's "Journey of a Missionary Tour along the 'East River' of Canton Province," China Mail, Supplement to #853 (June 20, 1861), p.4 (covering events of May 22-23, 1861). This is the full text from which extracts were and published in EMMC/MM, No.304 (New Series, No. 21) for September 2, 1861, pp. 249-260. made ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 227 and phrasing typical of Ruist discourse in the late Qing period. 26. Although Legge held this position by 1848 and argued for it in his extensive study of 1852, The Notions of the Chinese Concerning God and Spirits, he did make slight changes in the position later on in his Oxford years. Shàngdì was for Legge a high name for any monotheistic vision of God, but it was a composite term. Later in 1865 when he for the first time published a translation of the Book of Historical Documents (CC3), Legge shifted his position to claim that the single term, di (the second character in shangdi) carried the essential meaning of “God” in certain contexts. Shàngdi was only its "intensified form." For this he had to develop a further justification, which he published in two different settings. For further details of these arguments see James Legge, The Sacred Books of China: The Texts of Confucianism, Part I: The Shu King. The Religious Portion of the Shih King, The Hsiao King (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1879), pp. xxiii-xxix, and A Letter to Professor F. Max Muller Chiefly on the Translation into English of the Chinese Terms Ti and Shang Ti in Reply to a Letter to him by 'Inquirer' in the Chinese Recorder and Missionary Journal for May-June 1880 (London: Trübner & Co., 1880). The first text appears as the third volume in the Sacred Books of the East series edited by F. Max Müller in Oxford. 27. For the letter written by Legge and Chalmers on July 9, 1856, see the incoming letters for CWM/South China/Box 5/Jacket C/Folder 4. Later when meeting Legge in Hong Kong, Ch’ea said that "he wished to receive the ordinance [of baptism] because it was commanded, but it was not the baptism with water which regenerated the soul, but the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Being asked where he had learned that, [Ch’ea] said that it was in the New Testament, he could not tell the book and the Ch., but if he had a book he knew where to find it. A New Testament being given to him, he soon turned up to the third Ch. of the Gospel of John." See EMMC/MM (October 1856), p. 215. 28. Rambo describes "intellectual conversion" as the result of a person who "seeks knowledge about religious or spiritual issues via books, television, articles, lectures, and other media that do not involve significant social contact." Then the person "actively seeks out and explores alternatives." He adds, "Belief generally occurs prior to active participation in religious rituals and organizations" (Rambo, Understanding Religious Conversion, pp. 14-15). 29. The letter describing Legge's encounter with the Daoist priest from Mount Luofu is dated February 22, 1854 (CWM/South China/Personal/Legge/Box 8), and confirmed in a later report to the London office by John Chalmers in his letter dated March 24, 1854 (CWM/South China/Box 5/Jacket E/Folder 3). EMMC/MM 21 (September 1857), p. 206. The original quotation is in the plural, describing both Ch'ea and a more recent convert named Kot A-Yuk. David Johnson also notes that in the late Qing period there must have been a substantial number of individuals whose limited schooling had made it possible for them to grasp the meaning of many texts but not to write easily or well. Such persons had some access to the literary tradition and hence had transcended the confines of local oral culture, but were unable to use writing to order and record their thoughts. The distinction between those literates who could not write, or at ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 228 any rate habitually did not, and those who did, is one of the most significant within the literate realm, perhaps as important as the distinction between those who did and did not have full access to the literary tradition. The fact that Ch'a later had others write down what he dictated about his experiences suggests that he was one of these people in the middle: able to read, but not yet able to write well. See the further discussion in David Johnson's article, "Communication, Class, and Consciousness in Late Imperial China”, in Popular Culture in Late Imperial China, pp. 34-72, here p. 38. 30. EMMC/MM 20 (October 1856), p. 215. 31. EMMC/MM 20 (October 1856), p. 215. 32. This story is part of the collection of vignettes in a typed manuscript entitled Reminiscences (pp. 15-18, quotation from p. 15) held in the Bodleian Library (Ms. Eng. misc. c. 812). Many of these stories show signs of an aging man not remembering particular details of dates and places, but there appears to be no good reason to doubt the authenticity of this encounter between Legge and Ch'ëa itself. It appears nowhere else in Legge's writings, and serves as one of the basic texts for Helen Edith Legge's typescript, "Che'a Kin-Kwang.” 33. Rambo refers to this as a further motif in conversion initially identified by John Lofland and Rodney Stark. It involves the "direct, personal experience of being loved, nurtured, and affirmed by a group and its leaders" (Rambo, Understanding Religious Conversion, p. 15). 34. For a helpful summary of Mary Isabella Legge's life see the section related to "Mary Isabella Morison" in Wong Man-kong, "Hidden in History: London Missionary Society Missionary Wives in Nineteenth Century China (1807-1877)”, in Lí Hànjī, ed., Dú shĩ cúngão (Reading History: Extant Documents) (Hong Kong: Xuéfeng wénhuà Co., 1998), esp. pages 156-160. 35. The timing of Ch'ea's leaving his post at the Poklo temple was not certain in an earlier letter, but Ch'ea himself dictates this fact in a letter translated into English for overseas readers. See EMMC/MM (September 1857), p.207. The following descriptions come from this and another translated statement (pp. 207-209) prepared by another convert led back to Hong Kong by Ch'ea, as will be described below. 36. This is the intent of the seventh of the sixteen edicts, translated by Legge as "Discountenance and put away strange principles, in order to exalt the correct doctrine” (chủ viduàn vì chống zhèng xuê). Among the “strange principles” regarded as unacceptable were Buddhist and Daoist extremities, rebellious groups like the secret societies of the White Lotus, and the Catholic religion. Legge makes clear that the condemnation of Catholicism "must be understood simply of Christianity" as a whole. See James Legge, "Imperial Confucianism" (Lecture II), China Review, 6:4 (October 1877), pp. 232-235. 37. In a similar way Hong Xiùquán was seen as "mad" by his family and neighbours, but had experienced a physical breakdown after repeated failures in the civil examinations during the time he began having visions. The experience of Ch'ea on this score is quite different, in that he apparently maintained a relative engagement with his local lifeworld until he returned from Hong Kong in the summer of 1856. Compare Hamberg's account taken down from Hong Réngan's ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 271 other smaller temples, some well known, others hardly known at all. These include the conspicuous red-walled Dicang Wang Temple not far from the south-west corner of the city wall; the Doutian Miao and the Xiu Wang Miao, both referred to earlier. All were destroyed during the Taiping occupation, though many were rebuilt during subsequent years only to fall into disuse during the Japanese occupation as well as since 1949. The Jin Shan Temple and the Ganlu Temple today are the premier tourist sites in Zhenjiang, with the Dinghui monastery, though less easily accessible, being a good third. There used to be an interesting group of memorial temples on the Ganlu headland [Consular Bluff], a favourite resort for native Chinese picnic parties. One of these shrines was dedicated to Zhu Xi, a Southern Song dynasty neo-Confucian philosopher, born in Anhui in AD 1130, and probably best remembered for his commentary on Confucian classics, with his 'Rituals for Family Life' being influential throughout China as the standard authority consulted by high and low alike. He was the Confucian scholar who, whilst prefect at Zhangzhou in Fujian in 1190, attacked Buddhist and Daoist practices and issued orders laying down punishments for those who disobeyed the rules. Despite this he wrote commentaries on the sacred books of Daoism. He retired in 1196 and after his death four years later was posthumously appointed Chief of the Imperial Tutors with the rank of Lord. He has long been deified, with a portrait installed in a temple in Jiangxi province at an early stage during the twelfth century to encourage sacrifices to him by local scholars and gentlemen.14 He was revered in Confucian temples from about 1250, and during the reign of Kang Xi he was elevated to a position just under the 'Ten Noted Men' [The Ten Disciples of Confucius]. [1824-1890], Another shrine was dedicated to Peng Yulin the Chinese admiral in charge of the Yangzi Fleet which operated with success against the Taiping rebels. Peng was remembered by foreigners for his incorruptibility as well as his inability to understand the westerners. During the short French war with China in 1884-5, when in Guangzhou as the Imperial Naval Commissioner sent to organise its defences he proposed sending emissaries to Singapore to poison any French officers who might have been enjoying British hospitality there. Beijing frowned on his plan and he was unable to see why. He was also violently opposed to the introduction of iron-clads into the Chinese navy. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 272 Although not part of the Zhenjiang story a Daoist cult centre on Mao Shan, a mountain some fifty miles to the south, was visited annually by a stream of pilgrims in the Spring, a great many of whom passed through the convenient port of Zhenjiang. The Daoist Mao Shan school was arguably the most powerful Daoist sect during the Tang and maintained its great prestige down to at least 1949. The Mao Shan Daopai as it is known, is renowned for its seances and medium trances, and according to Mao Shan sect priests was founded in the fourth century AD with the Mao Shan sect priests considering themselves to be the highest ranking of all Daoist orders.15 The sect originally appears to have been meditative and only later did it fall into line with other sects. In 1917 two images were observed by Otterwill in Zhenjiang, in procession, Yan Gong and Jiang Gong #, both patron deities of river boatmen. Both deities were popular on altars in and around Nanchang, Anjing and along the Yangzi. Also popular in central China, C. B. Day records that Yan Gong in Zhejiang province was one of the Five Daoist deities who presided over a period of danger, a member of the Celestial Board of Health 瘟部五帝. There have been but few references in western writings to the legend and role of Yan Gong, a Patron of Sailors. According to Doré, "he was regarded in Central China as the protector of sailors and the god of the tides [Chao Shen]." This, presumably, means the patron deity of sailors in the rivers and estuaries of the Yangzi basin. However, Yang Laoda is the usual patron of boatmen on the Yangzi. Werner1 provides a more detailed description of Yan Gong, the god of sailors, adding a little to Doré. He notes that Yan Gong had a temple built in his honour near Shanghai during the reign of the first emperor of the period of the Three Kingdoms [ca. AD 240] and that he was the deified hero in that temple who protected Shanghai from rebel attacks during the reign of Ming Shi Cong [ca. 1540]. Other legends claim that he was born during the Song in Jiangxi, that he was one of the four major deities of Jiangxi province, and was a censor famous for his integrity. Or that he was again a native of Jiangxi but born during the Yuan, and drowned during a storm when returning home. He was buried but was seen by the inhabitants of his native district on the same day. When his coffin was brought to Nanchang and opened it was found to be empty, a miracle which led to a temple being built in his honour. Sailors have ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 309 During their drive north to eliminate the War Lords and unify China under the Republic, the Nationalist [KMT] forces entered Zhenjiang in March of 1927 and at the same time took over the Concession. Most westerners left for Shanghai whilst those who remained lived aboard hulks on the River or as close to the River as they could get. Even the British Consul was withdrawn to Shanghai where he continued to carry out his Zhenjiang duties. Eventually, in 1929, bowing to the inevitable the Zhenjiang Concession was finally retroceded to Chinese control and the treaty port, as such, was no more. Gerald Yorke travelled to China in 1931 planning to spend a couple of years travelling around China and studying, to satisfy a childhood dream. Not long after his arrival, as Reuter's correspondent, he joined a party chosen by the Chinese Government to inspect the dyke systems of the Yangzi and Huai river valleys which had just been rebuilt as a result of the disastrous floods in 1931. During the tour with the party they departed from Shanghai and reached Zhenjiang early the next morning. They were greeted on the hulk by a band which played valiantly out of tune. After motoring through the town to a public garden they were entertained at a European luncheon. The weather was cold but presuming that any entertainment would be indoors an under-dressed Yorke froze in the open pavilion. A Shandong medicinal wine was served with the first course; appetising dishes came hot from the kitchen, all of which sat on the table waiting for the Chairman of the Provincial Reconstruction Committee to finish his welcoming speech. When the tepid lunch was over they were each given a pamphlet describing the flood protection work done and the reconstruction planned for the future, a perfect example of how provincial officials wasted their time and country's money by publishing, with their portraits next to the title-page, an account of rather more than they have done and of what they would like one to think they are going to do. The afternoon was spent sight-seeing at the monastery on Silver Island [Jin Shan], with its hundred or so monks and its ancient fir tree in the outer courtyard. The tree had but one branch still alive, its trunk bound in iron and its base enclosed in marble - a symbol of the passing of classical Chinese culture. The monastic treasures were all displayed, the bronze vessel from the Zhou dynasty, a drum from the Han, and a jade belt belonging to a former statesman, possibly Ming. There was also a small hexagonal column inscribed with the Daode Jing, the Daoist classic which had surprised Yorke as he had not expected to see a Daoist classic in a Page 375 Page 376 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 312 * Li Zee-min (1950) Chinese Potpourri. Hong Kong: Oriental Publishers [He relates a local Hong Kong legend about the arrival of the young emperor escorted by Lu in what is now Kowloon, fleeing ahead of the Mongols. Li claims that the headman of the Hakka walled village of Kowloon was Tan Gong who died during the last battle with the Mongol fleet when Lu, with the emperor in his arms, jumped overboard to their deaths]. Couling, Samuel (1917) Encyclopaedia Sinica. Shanghai: Kelly and Walsh 11 Yu Dayu is recorded as being a native of Fujian who died in 1573 having made his name as the victor in the struggle to defeat the Japanese pirates along the coast of China and in particular that of Zhejiang. 12 Yang Xiuqing as one of the leading lights of the Taiping Rebellion, to whose military genius much of the early success of the movement was due. He was known as the Taiping Eastern King [Prince], and professed to be the spokesman of God. After the capture of Nanjing by the Taipings he established his palace in the yamen of the former Viceroy and lived in great state. By 1856 he had begun a campaign of political and religious intrigue to usurp the position of leader and to overthrow Hong Xiuquan, the founder. His plans were uncovered and he, his family and thousands of his supporters were slain by Wei Changhui, the Taiping Northern King. 13 extracted from the Transcription of the letters written from China to Milcote, Stratford on Avon by Thomas Adkins between 1855 and 1879 by courtesy of Theo Christophers of Dorridge, West Midlands : November 1999 14 Hymes, Robert P. (1986) Statesmen and Gentlemen: The Elite of Fu-chou, Kiangsi, in Northern and Southern Sung. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 15 Although the name was known much earlier Mao Shan has always been the centre of a Daoist sect. [see Kita Aziya gakuho, a Japanese Journal, Vol. 2] 16 Doré, Henri S.J. (1914) Recherches sur les Superstitions en China. Shanghai [Zikawei] : La Mission Catholique : Vol. XI 17 Werner, E.T.C (1932) A Dictionary of Chinese Mythology. Shanghai: Kelly and Walsh ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 398 been a famous well in front of the temple, with a reputation for aiding fertility, its water being reputed to guarantee the birth of sons. It was still there, and the soldiers reported that by the 1970s, if not before, many people were again coming to the temple by the bus load from neighbouring counties in the third lunar month. Though the temple had been destroyed and the images of its deities removed, country folk were still believers and they particularly liked to take water back to their homes. During our visit, the soldiers fetched two buckets of water from the well for us to drink. It was very clean and sweet, though the well is neither large nor deep. Finally, and to remind, a more general but detailed overview of the culture of late imperial times, is provided in Richard J. Smith's excellent China's Cultural Heritage: The Qing Dynasty 1644-1912, 2nd revised edition (Boulder, Colorado, Westview Press, 1990). POSTSCRIPT My old friend Mr. Wan On of Pui O, South Lantau, has reminded me of the close analogy between the treatment of present day SARS and of the infectious diseases causing deaths in local village communities of old, which often struck during the late winter and early Spring. The isolation and quarantining of infected persons and their contacts was, in the latter case, extended to whole villages. No one was allowed to come in, and no one was allowed out, usually for around two to three weeks. In addition, a protective ritual (a ta chiu/dajiao) was performed by a Daoist priest, and vegetarian food and sexual abstinence were prescribed. ================================================================================