The turn of the third century CE―known as the Jian’an era or Three Kingdoms period―holds double significance for the Chinese cultural tradition. Its writings laid the foundation of classical poetry and literary criticism. Its historical personages and events have also inspired works of poetry, fiction, drama, film, and art throughout Chinese history, including Internet fantasy literature today. There is a vast body of secondary literature on these two subjects individually, but very little on their interface.
The image of the Jian’an era, with its feasting, drinking, heroism, and literary panache, as well as intense male friendship, was to return time and again in the romanticized narrative of the Three Kingdoms. How did Jian’an bifurcate into two distinct nostalgias, one of which was the first paradigmatic embodiment of wen (literary graces, cultural patterning), and the other of wu (heroic martial virtue)? How did these largely segregated nostalgias negotiate with one another? And how is the predominantly male world of the Three Kingdoms appropriated by young women in contemporary China? The Halberd at Red Cliff investigates how these associations were closely related in their complex origins and then came to be divergent in their later metamorphoses.
The Halberd at Red Cliff: Jian'an and the Three Kingdoms by Xiaofei Tian is an eminently readable book, at least compared to Goodman's Xun Xu and the Politics of Precision. I would caution any reader that this book is less about the Three Kingdoms, and more about the ways in which the Three Kingdoms are remembered across history. While the first two chapters of the book are, in my view, stellar and revealing, this is mostly from a historical perspective. The further one goes, the more and more removed the reader is from the past. By the time we leave Sun Ce's great grandkids, the Lu brothers, behind, we never really return to the historical period. What we encounter are ever more distant poems, before finally turning to plays, the Red Cliff movies, and a, somewhat bizarre, somewhat hilarious, extended discussion on homoerotic slash fan fiction as an example of feminine empowerment in the modern era.
I love the first three chapters or so of this book. I'm less of a fan of what follows. There is something profound about the idea that history is the constructed memory of people looking back, so much so that it was the descendants of Sun Ce (and I believe Lu Xun) making their way through the unified China that the house of Sima created who ultimately helped crystalize the image of the Bronze Bird Pavilion. That we are taken in by the idea of the Jian'an scholarly society, when it was a retroactive sanctification of the dead by Cao Pi in connection to a succession struggle with Cao Zhi which likely resulted in still-living greats being left out simply due to the time of their sublimation to senescence. Cao Pi's own rather human anguish at the loss of so many close friends was rather telling, as were the long list of anecdotes that make him a clearly attempting to mediate his relationships through that of a master-servant dynamic where he must always win. There's a lot to admire here.
But I'm less of a fan when Tian begins to dismiss history and historicity to embrace more modern telling's, even highly fictionalized plays, historical films, and fan fiction as part of the active memory of the Three Kingdoms, perhaps equal to, though not supplanting, the historical record. Its bizarre. Here is an example: "If by their very nature as an art form all historical films are, as Pierre Sorlin reminds us, fictional, then so are all poetic representations of history and, indeed, all historical representations of history, in terms of their belatedness, their manipulation of source materials, and their shifting points of view. These representations are historical only insofar as they are productions of their own historical circumstances and the individual circumstances of their producers."
That's a bridge too far.
At its heart, this is a book of poetry, literature, and creative expression. It is just done so historically and through political study, insofar as its subject is connected to the past. The greater the distance, the more this book becomes what it is meant to be: an exploration of the imagination surrounding the Three Kingdoms, rather than an attempt to stitch together the reality of the Three Kingdoms period.
No greater point can be made to illustrate this than to take into consideration the eponymous title of the book: The Halberd at Red Cliff. The book takes very little notice of the actual events that transpired. They are dispatched with a couple of quotes, including from one of Cao Cao's letters. What it concerns itself with is the turn of the 8th century and the proliferation of poetry and southern imagination tied to the literary imagination of what that battlefield might have looked like or represented.