This is one of the best books I've read in ages. Stunningly good and even though it looks like a Penguin 60s from the 1990s, it costs about the same as a much larger book - even so, look, it contains so much that is interesting and so many beautiful images, it is an utter delighted. You need this book - you should get it now.
I know I'm enjoying a book when two contradictory things happen. The first is that I read something I want to immediately read out-loud to whoever the poor bastard is that is sitting near me - but then I hesitate because it will mean not being able to read on. That happened twice while I was reading this - and then, when I started to read the section out to my friend that I found so interesting, I had to go back a couple of pages more and start from there because… well, just because.
Tonight, while I was writing this review nipped out to the supermarket and while there then my eldest daughter called to see if I was interested in a walk - I was annoyed, because I wanted to give her the book to get her to read it (her being one of my resident experts on all things Japanese), but then, while we were walking, told her everything about the book anyway…
In the West we are obsessed with the idea of an original. It is not always easy to say exactly what an original is, but we certainly don't like anything that is fake. This is, in part I think, related to our idea of us being individuals and that as individuals we are fully responsible for their own creations. One of the nice things that James Burke does in 1970s TV program, Connections (whatever it takes, get to see this - if only to see what TV could have been, although rarely has been since) is that it shows how revolutionary ideas (the steam engine and so on) rarely were quite as revolutionary as we generally imagine them to have been. That is, Newton's 'shoulders of giants' applied a hell of a lot more often than we seem to believe. But copyright and profit and an obsession with individual genius means we zoom in on the guy up in the clouds, ignoring all those holding him up there.
We also have a God who is a creator God and who creates the universe out of nothing. Now, even in the Western tradition this isn't the only kind of God available. The Greek gods, for instance, didn't create the universe out of nothing, but rather ordered the chaos they found, something that is at least as interesting as our ex nihilo one. These attitudes to creation in the West influence how we think about human creations too. The idea of one god and one creator and His creation being 'true' impacts on how we think about, say, Steve Jobs and his Mac computers or iPods (again, ignoring all the people who went to 'create' those and attributing them to the sole 'genius' yet again). And this also reflects how we think about artworks and paintings, particularly those we call fake or authentic.
This book argues that the Chinese notion of 'fake' is significantly different from the Western notion, and much more recent - and that this has something to do with Eastern notions of life being a process, one where life is a cycle of reincarnation. That is, where there is no real 'original' and that the point of each iteration is in seeking a higher perfection. In that sense, then, a 'copy' isn't really a 'fake' but rather something that might possibly be 'more original' than the merely original or first instance. And given this cyclic repetition of the process, the notion of an original in the first place quickly starts to no sense.
I have to say that I've long thought that the Western idea of forgeries and fakes in art was deeply odd. Like so many other people, I can't help feeling that a lot of art is really a form of autograph hunting. I know there is meant to be a kind of aura that hangs around an 'original' - but the point made here is that if the copy is so good that even an expert can't tell the difference between it and the 'original', then what is it that makes the second painting 'fake'? Why is your appreciation of the work of art suddenly diminished when you find out it was not produced by the artist whose signature appears on the bottom?
There is a lot of discussion I n this book about signatures - there is a lovely Chinese painting that is discussed and how it contains a series of poems that friends added to it about a friend who was parting from them - and the various friends' signitures. It is a truly beautiful thing. I love the idea that artworks in China might leave spaces for future commentary - but I think that this is also true of works of art more generally. When we learn something new about a work of art - or hear some speculation about it - that can (maybe the word is must?) transform the work in our minds in ways that can surprising to us. And not just in the current way of people not being able to watch Woody Allen films because he may or may not have been a paedophile.
He ends this by talking about fake products made in China as copies of high-end products - Samsung phones, say. But while we in the West see this as basically a rip-off, he makes the point that sometimes these 'copies' improve on the original and that since the copies are not tied to the production cycles of the high-end product itself, they can introduce innovations ahead of time and so the 'copy' can be literally better than the original.
But the bit of this that really got to me was the discussion on Japanese temple that has existed for the last 1,300 years and had been a world heritage site until it was removed because the UN complained it didn't deserve to be on the list of world heritage sites because over that time the temple has been totally rebuilt every 20 years. That is, entirely rebuilt, from scratch, in every detail. So, the UN said that actually the site is only 20 years old - something the Japanese must have found completely perplexing. And then this made me think of a lovely scene in Julian Barnes's book Talking It Over where the woman is restoring a painting and talking to one of the male characters about how, when you are restoring a painting, you never know how far to strip the paint back, or really what the 'true' colours had been when it was originally painted - that you have to make an educated guess. And that the pigments of the paints fade and change colour at different rates and in different ways and so educated guesses are really ever only 'best guesses' and so a restored painting is a kind of 'companion' piece to the original, rather than bring the painting being back to what it had originally looked like because, well, how could you ever know? All we have is the ruin of the painting, the version that has been marked by all of the time that has occurred between the then when it was painted and the now it is being 'restored' in ways we can only guess at. You might want to type into the search box in Google Images 'Sistine Chapel before and after' to see what I mean.
Although it is not quite true that our body replaces every cell over seven years, for many cells in the body this actually happens at a much faster rate, all of our skin cells, for instance - we humans are a bit more like the Japanese temple than we are the Sistine Chapel ceiling. I am not quite as outraged by the idea of the Japanese temple being rebuilt anew every 20 years - in fact, it quite makes sense to me that the 'forever new' temple is more respectful to the original than a temple that is allowed to become a ruin would be.
There are lovely images here of painters copying the works of other painters - and not just from Chinese painters, but in the Chinese way of understanding art this is how one becomes a master, by making a perfect copy, and this makes sense to me as well. How else can you learn your craft?
There's more to be said about this book - like all of Han's books, it is bursting with interest - the only other think I want to say is that he mentions, as an aside, that it is hardly surprising that the Chinese invented printing. And then I couldn't help but think about this - and how complex Chinese logograms are, and then this had me rushing off to Wikipedia to see how the Chinese actually produced movable type to print their language at all - something I'd never really thought about before but that sort of hurt my head when I did thing about it. I mean, where would you begin to make the characters for 中文翻譯為「敏捷的棕毛狐狸从懶狗身上跃过」(which I think says: The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog)? And then I thought, surely, if you were from Mars or something, you would guess that a nation with an alphabet would have invented printing, particularly printing with movable type, before the Chinese would have. You know, 26 letters and all that - compared with…well, something like 30-100,000 movable types. So, even one of Han's throwaway lines has sent me off on tangents that seem worthwhile to me.
I loved this book - I can't recommend it too highly. Utterly fascinating and a joy.