Review of "Outlaws of the Marsh" by Shi Nai’an & Luo Guangshuo

There are four “novels” in the Chinese canon that are considered the greatest of all time.  Even the devastating Cultural Revolution of the 1970s unable to shake cultural perception of their importance, Shi Naian and Luo Guanzhong’s 14th century(ish) Outlaws of the Marsh, or as it is known in other translations, The Water Margin, Men of the Marshes, or The Marshes of Mt. Liang, is one of the four.  Though technically a work of historical fantasy given the parallels to factual Song dynasty events and “super-hero” powers many of the outlaws possess, the book is better classified as a work of social commentary given the political and social context, not to mention denouement.  Considered a juxtaposition to another of the canonical works, Chinese people say: “The Three Kingdoms should not be read by the old, and Outlaws of the Marsh should not be read by the young.”   It took me years of thought to realize why, but I finally did.

Spanning more than 2,500 pages (yes, 2,500), Outlaws of the Marsh is the story of Song Jiang and the rise and fall of the band he unites to fight against a corrupt government.  Bearing some similarity to the legend of Robin Hood, the first half of Outlaws relates how 108 men come together, fighting off government troops who seek to infiltrate and destroy their mountain-marsh stronghold.  Each of the men having his own history and entry point into the group, Shi goes into varying levels of detail describing the motley collection and the fantastic skill each possesses.  Dai Zong for example, is able to run nine times faster than the average man, Wu Song is strong enough to kill a tiger with his bare hands, and perhaps the most enjoyable Li Kui, the human Tasmanian Devil, flies in to a rage at the slightest provocation, but always remains loyal to the cause.

Review of "The Gay Genius: The Life and Times of Su Tungpo" by Lin Yutang

Lin Yutang was not to know the adjective he chose to describe the most brilliant Chinese poet of the Song Dynasty would evolve in the latter half of the 20th century to have a meaning he did not intend.  It detracts in no way from the biography, however, Lin combining beautifully the poetry and life of Su Tungpo, considered by most one of the greatest poets of not only Chinese, but world history.  The word chosen due to the hardships he endured with a smile throughout his life, Su proves that neither poetry or politics turn out as you’d like them when intelligence and integrity guide your actions.

Though born and raised in the rural west of China in 1037, Su Tungpo, or as he is more commonly referred to, Su Shi, would go on to live an extraordinary life in seemingly every province and major city in China.  Poet, counselor, governor, philosopher, outcast, even gardener and Daoist quester for immortality, his ideas may seem more scattered than they truly are.  Given the quality of his writing, the enduring strength of his wisdom, and his willingness to stand up for his beliefs, when one looks deeper they find the titles appropriately given, nothing trite about the poet’s life.  Substance to the form makes for an interesting life, and in the hands of Lin, interesting reading.

One of, if not the foremost, liaison between China and the West, Lin Yutang has a way with the English language 95% of native speakers do not.  The descriptions eloquent, Lin drifts easily along the events, major and minor, of Su Shi’s life, the political context in which he lived, and the prosaic output we still enjoy today.  Though perhaps more exemplary poetry could have been included, one cannot fault Lin as his work was intended to be a biography through and through, the poet’s words translated in innumerable texts elsewhere, including Lin’s own The Importance of Understanding.  An engaging and thorough survey, Lin never falters from the first to the last page, every deed of the major figure in Chinese history presented in appropriate measure.

In the end, The Gay Genius: The Life and Times of Su Tungpo is everything a person could want in a biography.  On top of being a complete account, Lin packs the text with cultural and historical facts to give the reader proper background on a time and country relatively unfamiliar to Western minds.  The only major complaint may be that Lin’s voice is redolent throughout, but given that he is able to express himself humbly and offer a great deal of wisdom and insight into the events of the poet’s life, he can be forgiven by less exacting readers.  Plain and simple, there is no better biography of Su Shi available in English.  If you’re interested in either Chinese poetry or Song Dynasty history, the book is well worth your while.