A Thorough Exploration in Historiography

While I appreciate that Kathrin Leese-Messing took the time to write a detailed review of my recent annotated English translation of the Shitong 史通, I disagree with most of the substantive issues she raises.

In the beginning of the review, the reviewer shows dissatisfaction with the arrangement of annotations (page 825). On this point, I can sympathize with her. The standard, traditional approach is to place all annotations as footnotes at the bottom of the textual pages – for example, in William Nienhauser, Jr., et al.’s recent English translation of the Shiji 史記. However, that strategy would be impractical for the University of Washington Press edition of the Shitong.

First, due to the book’s complicated textual and annotation history, a significant number of important notes have accumulated, many of which need to be preserved. Second, additional explanatory notes are essential for modern readers, especially those outside China. Third, as a bilingual edition, managing such an avalanche of notes on textual pages would be logistically challenging, if not impossible.

After extensive discussions with the series editor and house editors, I adopted their advice: longer explanatory notes were moved to the end matter as back notes, while shorter, more immediately relevant notes were retained on the textual pages.

Two pages on (page 827), the reviewer examines the following scenario (7:25/2):

Liu Zhiji 劉知幾 lashes out at the Hou Han Shu’s 後漢書 chapter on Liu Penzi 劉盆子 (Gengshi 更始), stating, “Using a crooked brush, the author (zuozhe 作者) fawned upon the then-current court, making sure that Guangwu alone looked good.” On this, I comment, “Fan Ye, the author of the History of the Later Han (Hou Han Shu), was a Liu Song historian, not an Eastern Han one, so there is no basis for Liu Zhiji’s criticism, unless he means someone else.”

The reviewer faults me for this comment, arguing, “Liu Zhiji undoubtedly meant ‘someone else’ with zuozhe, namely the early Eastern Han court scribes under Guangwu’s 光武 rule, who supposedly wrote the basic biography of Gengshi, which was eventually used by Fan Ye 范曄 in his much later Hou Han Shu compilation.”

I beg to differ. Judging by the context, when critiquing a history, Liu Zhiji consistently targets its author, not earlier scribes who penned the primary sources. The author, through the editing process, takes ownership of a history’s contents, regardless of its earlier textual history. What complicates matters, however, is Liu Zhiji’s phrasing, “the author (zuozhe) fawned upon the then-current court.” Clearly, Fan Ye was not a subject of the court in question. I attribute this to the inconsistency in Liu Zhiji’s writing, which is not uncommon.

What follows are her critiques of translated passages/expressions:

1. Page 829, my translation (1:1/9) reads:

In its coverage of events, the language of The Records is rarely laudatory or evasive, nor does it disparage or celebrate certain events. Therefore, how can the history of Sima Qian, who claimed to be just “neatly arranging the records of past events,” be rightly compared with The Annals of Confucius?

其所書之事也, 皆言罕褒諱, 事無黜陟, 故馬遷所謂整齊故事耳, 安得比於《春秋》哉!

The reviewer claims that the translation has missed the mark, arguing that the phrase “How can it be compared to The Annals” (安得比於《春秋》哉) is based on something Sima Qian says: “Comparing my work to The Annals would be a mistake” (而君比之《春秋》, 謬矣). In her view, “How can it be compared to The Annals” should reflect Sima Qian’s own words rather than Liu Zhiji’s critique.

I strongly disagree with the reviewer. My rendering of the phrase is grounded in the interpretation of Pu Qilong 浦起龍, the leading Qing scholar of the Shitong, and supported by the Chinese translation by Yao Song and Zhu Hengfu.^[1] Contextually, there is no reason to question this understanding. While it is true that the Han scholar Hu Sui 壺遂 critically compared the Shiji to the Chunqiu 春秋, prompting Sima Qian’s rebuttal, this does not preclude Liu Zhiji from reiterating the same point: that the Shiji and the Chunqiu are not comparable.

1. Page 831, my translation (13:3/10) reads:

Ban Bo, for his part, says, “How could one hold court while leaning on that woman?”

班生亦云:安有據婦人臨朝?

The reviewer considers this a mistranslation, offering her own version based on the original passage in the Hanshu 漢書:

Where does it say that [Zhou] was leaning against a woman while holding the court audience?!

何有踞肆於朝?

First, Liu Zhiji’s wording differs somewhat from the received text of the Hanshu. Second, in translating this phrase, I consulted other translations as well, and mine aligns with theirs.^[2] Third, my translation can be interpreted as implying the original meaning of the Hanshu text. The reviewer’s critique, in this case, amounts to little more than hair-splitting.

1. Pages 832–33, my translation (1:1/6) reads:

The origins of the Annals tradition began in the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou.

Comment: In The Gleanings from Jizhong, records of events in Taiding’s time are placed under the title “Annals of the Xia and Yin.” Confucius says, “If they have a wide comprehension of things and a knowledge of remote eras, they have been schooled in The Documents”; and “If they aptly string phrases together and construct parallels between events, they have been schooled in the Annals classic.” Thus we know that the Annals began at the same time as the Venerable Documents.

《春秋》家者,其先出於三代。案《汲冢瑣語》太丁時事,且爲《夏殷春秋》。孔子曰:「疏通知遠,《書》敎也。」「屬辭比事,《春秋》之敎也。」知《春秋》始作, 與《尚書》同時。

The reviewer contends that “the Annals classic” is an incorrect translation for Chunqiu (《春秋》) in the phrase, “If they aptly string phrases together and construct parallels between events, they have been schooled in the Annals classic” (屬辭比事,《春秋》之敎也). Instead, she argues that it should refer to other works also called chunqiu. Her translation reads: “Thus we know that [works called] chunqiu first came up around the same time as the Shangshu.”

While she is entitled to her opinion, I tend to think otherwise.

Here, Liu Zhiji highlights the ancient tradition of the Chunqiu and its edifying effect. Lesser-known works bearing the name chunqiu do not merit that same status. Moreover, no serious annotators or translators have raised objections to this interpretation.

1. Page 834, my translation (1:1/7) reads:

Therefore, even after the passage of a thousand years, his work remains in a class by itself.

故能彌歷千載, 而其書獨行.

The reviewer suggests something different:

This is why [Confucius’ model] came to survive for a thousand years and his work alone was transmitted.

This is a more literal reading of the original, but it overlooks the fact that other ancient chunqiu texts were extant in later times, including Yanzi chunqiu 晏子春秋, Lüshi chunqiu 呂氏春秋, Yushi chunqiu 虞氏春秋, and Chu-Han chunqiu 楚漢春秋.

The reviewer then expresses displeasure with my critical assessment of Liu Zhiji’s inclusion of certain works by the Masters (zi 子) in the history category, such as Lüshi chunqiu, Huainan zi 淮南子, and Baopu zi 抱朴子 (page 837). Upon reexamining the contents of these cited works, I still adhere to my viewpoint: they can hardly qualify as histories under any conventional classification system, whether medieval or modern.

The reviewer further finds fault with my statement that “In the chapter ‘Crooked Brush,’ Liu talks approvingly of the practice of employing concealment in dealing with one’s father or sovereign, a practice that is in keeping with the Moral Teaching (mingjiao 名教). In so doing, Liu compromises a fundamental principle in history writing – honesty (page 838).”

She views this as “moralizing” and “regrettable,” arguing that “what characterizes ‘honest’ or ‘truthful’ history-writing changed considerably over time.” While I agree that one should not judge a historical work from a purely modern viewpoint, I cannot bring myself to accept the Foucaultian concept of honesty. In my view, the basic idea of “honesty” should not vary greatly from ancient to modern times. Being honest means being free of deceit and untruthfulness.

According to Liu Zhiji’s logic, honesty in writing precludes cheating on facts – except when it concerns one’s parents or sovereign. If this does not compromise the principle of honesty, what does? I highlight this flaw in Liu’s thinking precisely because honesty holds such a central place in his writing, deserving recognition as his “fourth essential quality for the historian, after talent, knowledge, and insight (cai xue shi 才學識).”^[3]

Lastly, the reviewer faults me for judging Liu Zhiji from a modern standpoint where I point out one obvious shortcoming of Liu Zhiji (page 838): assigning grossly unequal lengths to the chapters in his Shitong.

Here, the criticism is not warranted. Back in the 1980s, when hermeneutics was popular on Western campuses, I learned a fundamental principle from it: textual research should be conducted through contextualization, avoiding judgments rooted in modern prejudices. I criticize Liu Zhiji precisely because his Shitong falls short in his chapter apportioning when compared to such renowned works as the Wenxin diaolong 文心雕龍 (Literary mind and the carving of dragons) by Liu Xie 劉勰 (ca. 465–ca. 532), the Yanshi jiaxun 顏氏家訓 (Family instructions of the Yan lineage) by Yan Zhitui 顏之推 (531–ca. 590s), the Yisi zhan 乙巳占 (Yisi divination) by Li Chunfeng 李淳風 (602–670), and more. This omission is all the more inexcusable given that the Wenxin diaolong served as a main source of inspiration for the Shitong. If the reviewer, a scholar of Early China, were familiar with these medieval works, she probably would not have leveled her criticism against my remark.