Yusheng

Humanity has long recognized the tragic nature of civilized life on Earth. Buddhist tradition teaches that the essence of life is suffering, and the only way to escape it is to relinquish personal desires and liberate oneself from worldly life. According to Jewish and Christian scriptures, Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, learning the difference between good and evil. God expelled them from the Garden of Eden to prevent them from eating the fruit of the Tree of Life and gaining eternal life. In Eden, there is no death, only happiness; outside, death and suffering are the norm. God told Adam and Eve, “You must toil all the days of your life to get food from the ground; it must produce thorns for you, and you will eat the herbs of the field. By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground.”

The stories in the Bible tell us that human suffering is rooted in our nature, in our innate pursuit of knowledge. In other words, civilized life itself is tragic. Modern psychologists agree that humans are born with curiosity, a desire for new knowledge and experiences, and a self-awareness that distinguishes between good and evil.

Early Daoist scholars also recognized the suffering nature of human life, but they adopted a different approach: praising the primordial society and condemning the secondary society, viewing the secondary society as the cause of human tragedy, and thus advocating for the separation of the primordial and secondary societies. Due to the influence of Daoism, Chinese culture is referred to by the West as an optimistic culture.

For thousands of years, Chinese literature has lacked a tradition of tragedy: works set against the backdrop of a secondary society adopt a historian’s perspective with little personal emotion, such as *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*; works set within a family context often attribute tragic events to mistakes. In short, Chinese historical literature has similarly separated secondary society from the original society, rarely exploring the distortion of humanity and psychological trauma inflicted at the juncture of these two social classes. Conversely, much like the French painter Matisse’s pursuit of art’s soothing and therapeutic effects, Chinese literature more often idealizes real life, offering readers an opportunity for healing their emotional wounds. As Matthias, who was deeply influenced by Eastern artistic thought, said, “What I dream of is a balanced, pure, tranquil subject matter, free from unsettling or depressing themes.”

The poem “The Peacock Flies Southeast” from the Nineteen Ancient Poems of the Eastern Han Dynasty is one of the very few works in Chinese history to end in tragedy. However, the poem’s subject matter seems to be based on real events, its narrative confined to the family, with the mother-in-law as the object of condemnation. *Dream of the Red Chamber* is the first famous novel to end in tragedy. Although still centered on the family, it breaks away from the notion that tragedy is caused by bad people and bad deeds. *Dream of the Red Chamber* subtly points the finger at society, at the oppression from the upper class that is beyond the control of the family. In short, the Chinese ideal of life is one of fulfillment; if tragedy occurs, it must be because someone has failed in their responsibilities. This is quite different from the Western view that life itself is the source of tragedy.

In contrast, ancient Greek tragedy had reached a high level of sophistication in both form and thought, much like Tang and Song poetry, unmatched by later generations. Ancient Greek tragedy was performed in honor of Dionysus, the god of wine. The Dionysian festival, held in spring and lasting five days, was a significant event in ancient Greece. Legend has it that Dionysus died a gruesome death, his body torn to pieces, hence the plays performed in his name were primarily tragedies. Approximately 15,000 Athenians attended the performances, and the government even provided free tickets to the poor to encourage their participation. An annual award was given for the best play. The maturity of ancient Greek tragedy was not accidental.

Just as Tang poetry led the way in Chinese literati poetry creation, ancient Greek tragedy pioneered the Western tragic tradition. We can say that from ancient Greece and Shakespeare to the modern era, generation after generation, traditional Western tragedy is a heart-wrenching lament from the deeply wounded human spirit, a dramatic summary of the human experience in civilized society.

Aside from a few modern family tragedies, traditional Western tragedies typically depict a protagonist of noble birth who, due to reasons such as will, circumstances, ignorance, or moral obligations, encounters an inescapable fate, leading to a tragic ending. Shakespeare’s *Hamlet* and *King Lear* are representative works of Western tragedy. In the former, all the main characters die tragically at the end; in the latter, the elderly King Lear watches his loved ones die one by one, and in the final scene, he dies alone, embracing the body of his beloved youngest daughter, in unbearable grief. On stage, the playwright’s responsibility is to reveal to the audience the profound truth that the cause of their deaths is life itself, by showing them the tragic deaths of their heroes and good people. This approach to literary creation is far removed from the traditional Chinese literary thought. Even the death of Lin Daiyu, the protagonist of *Dream of the Red Chamber*, seems difficult for Chinese readers to accept. Therefore, Gao E’s sequel offered a remedy through the theme of family revival. Jia Baoyu’s becoming a monk represents an idealized level of fulfillment. Compared to the Western tradition of tragedy, the concept of Chinese optimistic culture is not without merit.

The tragic understanding of life is deeply embedded in Western philosophy, so tragic scenes are not only found in drama and literature, but also in carving. A carving completed around 200 BC, depicting Laocoön and his sons, shows the moment Laocoön and his two sons died struggling to survive while being coiled by a serpent (Figure 10). Chinese people who see this carving would likely shudder and find it unbearable to look at. In the legends of the Trojan War, Laocoön and his sons were insignificant figures. As a priest, Laocoön, out of natural human compassion, warned the world of the potential dangers of the Greek Trojan Horse. This very natural compassion led to such a cruel death. The Greeks chose this moment and carved it in stone, which must have conveyed the deep feelings of the ancient Greeks and revealed the tragic side of their lives.

Ancient Greek sculpture and tragedy reached the pinnacle of art. While the Renaissance also saw the emergence of masters like Max Collenderloo’s sculptures and Shakespeare’s dramas, I believe they didn’t surpass the artistic peak of ancient Greece; they merely reached their own peaks compared to those before and after it. Tang and Song poetry represented their era; without the repetition of the Tang and Song periods, later generations could not reach their heights. However, the artistic creations of the Renaissance were a deliberate repetition and imitation of ancient Greek thought. Any transcendence was merely a slight change in form and an expansion in scale.

What’s even more remarkable is the profound understanding the ancient Greeks had of the human condition in civilized society, reaching a pinnacle of thought that remains unsurpassed. A common saying among Western philosophers when discussing ancient Greek philosophy is: the diverse and complex schools of modern Western philosophy are merely footnotes to Plato’s philosophy.

Today, we are all amazed by the cultural achievements of ancient Greece, but only the ancient Greeks themselves could truly understand the tragic side of their highly civilized society. Chapter 11, Section 5 mentions how the Greeks despised the rudeness and barbarity of Spartan culture, yet decades of struggle resulted in Athens’ conquest by Sparta. Later, the less advanced Macedonians and Romans followed suit, and even more tragically, the conquerors appropriated Greek culture for themselves. Aristotle was particularly hated by the Greeks because he had been Alexander the Great’s teacher. His personal life was likely filled with even more tragedies, but these were not recorded. Socrates’ tragic death was entirely due to his devoted student, Plato; otherwise, we would have no way of knowing.

In contrast to Western culture, traditional Chinese culture lacks the Western understanding of tragedy. Western scholars have listed a series of reasons to explain why Chinese culture is so optimistic, such as ancestor worship, unified bureaucratic organization, long and continuous history, collectivist thinking, different hero models and myths, and epistemological differences (Keightley, 1990). These factors may all play a role in the difference between tragedy and optimism in Eastern and Western cultures, but I believe the most fundamental reason is the long-standing Taoist tradition.

Lao Tzu often used water to illustrate the principles of Taoism. Water is clear and still; once a river provides direction, it meanders along its course through mountains and plains, following the principle of flowing downwards, and eventually reaches the ocean. Some Western scholars have referred to Taoist thinking as flowing water thinking (Watts, 1997).

Taoist scholars, understanding the tragic nature of secondary societies, prescribed a remedy of returning to simplicity and authenticity—a cure that addresses the root cause but not the symptoms. Although Taoism was historically unsuccessful politically, and its establishment as a Taoist organization during the Eastern Han Dynasty further distanced it from the political stage, it complemented Confucianism, becoming a key factor influencing Chinese social structure and the cultural quality of the Chinese people. Therefore, Taoism can be seen as a palliative therapy for the spiritual trauma of secondary societies. The aforementioned cure, while addressing the root cause, is not contradictory to the individual’s perspective; both are valid approaches.

Lao Tzu said, “Those who would take the world and rule it, I see that they will not succeed. The world is a sacred vessel; it cannot be forced, nor can it be grasped. Those who try to seize it will fail, and those who grasp it will lose it.” (Chapter 29)

Lao Tzu emphasizes the insurmountable gap between the original society and the secondary society, and the inability of the secondary society to be manipulated artificially. Any attempt to cling to or manipulate will ultimately fail, leading to unnecessary human tragedy. However, if the secondary society does not interfere with or destroy the original society, Daoist scholars do not oppose the secondary society.

Lord Ye said to Confucius, “In my village there is a man of upright character. When his father stole a sheep, the son testified against him.” Confucius replied, “The upright men in my village are different from this man. They conceal the wrongdoing of their fathers for their sons, and their fathers for their sons. Uprightness lies therein.” (Analects, Zilu, 13.18)

This passage from the Analects means that Ye Gong, the official in charge of Fu Han in the state of Chu, said that there were upright people in their country whose fathers stole sheep and whose sons testified in court to their fathers’ wrongdoing. Confucius replied, “But it is not like that in our country. When a father conceals the wrongdoing of his son, and a son conceals the wrongdoing of his father, this is called justice.”

Similar statements can be found in other pre-Qin texts. For example, the son of the leader of the Mohist school committed murder, and the King of Qin, considering he was his only son, pardoned him. However, the internal laws of the Mohist organization did not grant pardons and still carried out the death penalty. If someone today kills a murderer pardoned by the state, they are guilty of murder. When someone asked Mencius how to handle the conflict between law and personal affection, Mencius surprisingly suggested that if Shun’s father committed murder, Shun should take his father to a remote place to hide.

These statements may seem difficult to understand today, but they are actually very similar to the methods used in primitive societies. The two-tiered social structure of China, dating back to the time of Yu the Great, allowed many traditions of primitive society to be preserved until very late. Confucius admired the politics of the Western Zhou Dynasty. In fact, during the Western Zhou period, while there were hierarchical relationships between the emperor, feudal lords, and grassroots villages, the various social strata were largely relatively independent. This is very similar to the relationship between a chieftain and his subordinates in primitive societies. If subordinates disobeyed, the chieftain had few ways to punish them, and could only handle conflicts based on the principle of equality and mutual benefit. Of course, the chieftain could also order a few people to beat someone up, but he would also risk being defeated by that person; there was no other way. The Western Zhou emperor did the same. When Duke Zhuang of Zheng dared to challenge the Zhou emperor, the only solution was for the emperor to personally lead his troops to fight him, and he was defeated by Duke Zhuang of Zheng.

Knowing the above, it’s easier to understand why Confucius and Mencius advocated for family unity, forming an independent social organization; why Lao Tzu argued that the government’s existence should be unknown to the people; and why Shang Yang, famous for his reforms, proposed the law of collective punishment. In other words, the law of a secondary society does not extend to the family level. Throughout history, the law still penetrated into the family to punish individuals who committed crimes, but it was far from reaching the level of Western societies. Even today, in the 21st century, in vast rural areas of China, legal authorities tend to leave minor crimes to families and households to handle. The author’s hometown has only recently established a police force; previously, police services only extended to the county level. The negative effect of this policy was collective punishment: if one person committed a crime, the whole family would be executed; and the phenomenon of human sacrifice was also widespread and persistent.

Scientists have observed that apes like chimpanzees are wary of unfamiliar members of their own species, often chasing them away. Human infants around one year old are also afraid of strangers; after a new member joins the family, they will often circle around the stranger to find their mother, constantly watching the stranger’s direction for fear of mishap. In families and primitive societies, people interacted face-to-face, treating each other with equality and reciprocity. In secondary societies, people had to learn to navigate the complex pyramid of social power dynamics when dealing with strangers. Even with today’s powerful police and advanced legal systems, we still feel unsafe walking on the streets; how much more so for people in ancient times? Residents of ancient city-states, living among strangers, constantly faced the danger of attack, and many more were murdered without ever being solved.

Ancient Greeks constantly interacted with strangers. Ancient Chinese, however, did not necessarily have this problem; their family organizations were relatively complete, serving as a barrier between primary and secondary societies. The ancient Greeks created many legendary heroes, heroes of immense power yet possessing various human qualities, undoubtedly providing spiritual comfort to the ancient Greeks in times of fear. China lacks such heroic legends; their heroes are more like Yu the Great—lacking superhuman strength, yet diligent and hardworking, always at the forefront of society. Their heroes are role models for humanity.

Although both Confucianism and Taoism emphasize self-cultivation, only Taoism provides a haven for the spirit wounded by the hardships of secondary society. Another implication of Lao Tzu’s concept of the insurmountable gap between primary and secondary society is that people can distance themselves from it to avoid being harmed. This distance is primarily spiritual, and the classic works of Taoism provide a complete set of guiding principles, encompassing philosophy, psychology, and practical techniques. They offer readers a perspective that allows for a broader view, much like how modern people view the world from an airplane.

Comparing Chinese and Western painting provides a microcosm of the differences between Eastern and Western cultures. Aside from modern works, for over two thousand years, Western artists primarily focused on depicting the human body, especially the nude. Clothing not only conceals private parts but also provides physiological and psychological protection. When you undress in front of a crowd, do you feel particularly vulnerable and fearful? If your answer is “yes,” you have many like-minded people among humanity. Influenced by the Taoist tradition, Chinese artists mainly painted flowers, birds, beasts, insects, fish, mountains, and trees. They also painted people, but these were tiny figures sketched with a few strokes, reading by a stream or under a tree. Chinese painting employs the concept of “scattered perspective,” contrasting with the Western concept of perspective. Perspective is a view obtained from a fixed position. Traditional Chinese painting, however, uses a non-fixed position, hence the term “dispersed perspective.” But I believe this contradicts Taoist theory, which never advocates dispersed perspectives; rather, it encourages exploring space and taking a comprehensive view of the world. Traditional Chinese painting is like a view focused through a telescope from an airplane, so “celestial vision” or “heavenly perspective” would be more appropriate. In short, the ancient Greeks lived in a secondary society composed of individuals, detached from nature, idealizing the human body and portraying society and life as tragic. In contrast, the ancient Chinese idealized nature, society, and life as a harmonious unity—the so-called “unity of heaven and man.”

Like the ancient Chinese, the ancient Greeks sought divine guidance and divination, but it’s easy to recognize that, aside from occasional occurrences, such practices were unreliable. In post-Renaissance Europe, the divine gradually withdrew from social life, becoming irrelevant. Among intellectuals during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, the divine also began to be considered irrelevant. The atheism of early Daoist thinkers like Laozi and Zhuangzi allowed them to more objectively observe and analyze the causes of human tragedy, finding a psychological solution. Western scholars often complain that China lacks an understanding of individual psychology. In fact, Daoist theory is based on a profound understanding of individual psychology. The West views the relentless unfolding of human tragic fate either as the will of God as described in the Bible, or as an inescapable destiny in Greek tragedy. Unable to escape the tragic ending, the West has thus created a tragic tradition that has endured through the ages, transcended cultural boundaries, and shaken the hearts of all humanity.

A quintessential ancient Greek tragedy is Sophocles’ *Oedipus the King*, which marks the pinnacle of Greek tragic writing. Oedipus accidentally kills the king, but becomes the next king by correctly guessing the monster’s riddle, and marries the widow of the deceased king. Years later, he learns that the king he killed was his biological father, and the wife he married was his biological mother. His mother, humiliated, hangs herself, and Oedipus, blinded by needles, wanders until his death.

During the psychological development of children aged three to five, Freud observed incestuous fantasies, in which children fall in love with the opposite sex of their parents while hating the same-sex parent. Freud termed this psychological phenomenon the Oedipus complex. In reality, children under five are completely unaware of the nature of secondary society, and we must not confuse children’s psychological complexes with the tragedies of our civilized society. Modern science shows that consanguineous marriage leads to an increase in birth defects and other congenital genetic diseases. Falling in love with someone of the opposite sex is closer to human nature. Psychologists have found that it is difficult for men and women who spend every day together from childhood to form a lasting love.

Similar incestuous stories may have actually occurred in ancient times, with the Oedipus legend marking the emergence of anti-incest moral norms. Historians suspect that Alexander the Great killed his father to become the next king. In Chinese royal history, it was by no means uncommon for sons to marry their fathers’ concubines and wives.

The gods in ancient Greek mythology, such as Zeus and Apollo, may have been exaggerated and embellished based on historical figures. They cannot be considered gods in the religious sense, but rather mythological heroes. Ancient Greek mythology, however, reserved a place for gods, reflecting the unwavering belief in the immutability of fate. A person can only watch as their destiny unfolds relentlessly according to a predetermined plan. Behind these arrangements of fate lies a god, vaguely defined yet possessing boundless power, much like the Chinese Jade Emperor.

In his youth, Oedipus was tormented by a prophecy that he would one day kill his father and marry his mother. To avoid this foretold fate, he resolutely abandoned his comfortable court life and embarked on a life of wandering. Little did he know that the parents he left were merely his adoptive parents. He wandered to the ends of the earth to escape his destiny, but instead, he found himself facing it head-on. Fate, however tragic, is unavoidable.

A famous tragic drama in Chinese history is *The Injustice to Dou E*, a masterpiece by Guan Hanqing of the Yuan Dynasty. Comparing it with *Oedipus Rex*, it’s easy to see the different concepts of tragedy in the East and West. *The Injustice to Dou E* tells the story of Dou E, a weak and helpless young widow, who is persecuted by corrupt officials, falsely accused of poisoning her father-in-law, and beheaded in public. The tragedy of *Oedipus Rex* stems from life itself, but the tragedy of *The Injustice to Dou E* comes from evil people, and is unrelated to the social system, let alone life itself. The tragedy of Oedipus Rex is blameless, but it makes people aware of the tragic nature of life itself; the tragedy of Dou E, however, is meant to assert the concepts of benevolence and righteousness, and to restore the balance of benevolence and righteousness, one must place one’s hopes on the ideal imperial power and the heavens. As a result, just like the fate in Oedipus Rex, it unfolds according to the predetermined concept: in the end, Dou E’s father, Dou Tianzhang, a high-ranking official, returns, the truth is revealed, and except for Dou E, who cannot be resurrected, everyone else is dealt with accordingly, all in accordance with the predetermined concept of benevolence and righteousness.

It is important to point out that the imperial power and the heavens in *The Injustice to Dou E* are embodiments of Chinese cultural ideals, not real-world imperial power and heavens. This is similar to the fate in *Oedipus Rex*, which is not real fate but an ideal fate. Real-world fate is the answer obtained through divination, which can be right or wrong and can be changed. Ideal fate is part of ancient Greek cultural ideals and does not exist in real life; therefore, such fate is absolutely correct and unchangeable. The end of Chapter Thirteen, Section One, mentions three examples of divination at Delphi. The legend of the Lydian king and the Roman emperor’s divination represents ideal fate, while Socrates’s wisest divination represents real-world fate. The five hundred members of the jury had no fear of the gods’ words because they were answers to real-world divination.

I believe Guan Hanqing’s use of the name Dou Tianzhang to refer to Dou E’s father is symbolic. Tianzhang represents the laws of Heaven, a rationalized form of imperial power, not earthly imperial power. The laws of Heaven can be idealized, but real imperial power cannot. Heaven itself has an ideal and a realistic aspect. In real life, people often pray to Heaven without receiving a response, and even when they receive blessings from Heaven during sacrificial ceremonies, these blessings are not always fulfilled. Yet, they cannot abandon their faith in Heaven, so they create an idealized Heaven. This idealized imperial power and Heaven exist only within the conceptual framework of Chinese culture.

From the Book of Songs onward, the Chinese have had a habit of openly cursing Heaven. The Heaven they cursed was the real Heaven, but the real imperial power was not to be cursed, so they used Heaven as a substitute. The West is the opposite: secular power can be cursed, but the God, equivalent to Heaven, cannot. If everything could be cursed, there would be no fixed order in a secondary society. Ancient social order in the West relied on God, while in China it relied on imperial power. The story of Dou E cursing Heaven in Guan Hanqing’s writings has always been praised; it is recorded below as evidence that the divine right of kings was inferior to the imperial right in China:

Heaven and earth should only distinguish between the pure and the turbid, yet how could they have misjudged Thief Zhi and Yan Yuan? The virtuous suffer poverty and die young, while the wicked enjoy wealth and longevity. Heaven and earth seem to fear the strong and bully the weak, going with the flow in this way. Earth, what kind of earth are you if you can’t distinguish between good and evil? Heaven, what kind of heaven are you if you wrongly judge the wise and the foolish? Alas, all that remains is tears streaming down my face.

Unlike the West, which focuses on secondary societies, the Chinese focus on primordial societies, preserving many of their core beliefs. One of their old beliefs was the idealization of real life. This idealization served as a form of spiritual therapy for the trauma of secondary societal life, allowing them to criticize reality and even vent their frustrations. Ancient Greeks viewed problems from a personal perspective; tragedy was a direct expression of their emotional state. Aristotle pointed out that tragedy could aid in spiritual transformation and also had a therapeutic effect.

The modern impression is that Chinese people are pessimistic, while Westerners are optimistic. This is an outward impression, not an inner feeling, much less an inner ideal. The West has a long history of typical secondary societies, where people tend to try their hand at things. Modern Western societies have indeed improved in providing opportunities for citizens. The optimism often attributed to Westerners is actually their initiative in realizing themselves within secondary societies. Influenced by traditional Chinese thought centered on primitive societies, China has not paid attention to the construction of secondary societies, let alone how to guide people in achieving their goals within them.

In recent years, China has been catching up rapidly, but the overly rapid social changes have made it difficult for people to adapt, creating many spiritual problems. The collective suicide phenomenon mentioned in the first section of Chapter Six is ​​very similar to the ending of Western tragedies, with heroes and good people falling one by one. The news reports have caused sighs and heartache throughout the country. We have introduced Western lifestyles and also Western tragedies, but they are already playing out in life before they are performed on the stage. This is normal; we need to wait for life to become known to writers, inspiring their passion for writing tragedies and forming a social atmosphere of writing and watching tragedies. Many years later, we may have the hope of seeing Chinese versions of *Oedipus Rex* and *Hamlet*.

author By Dr. You-Sheng Li

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