History of Chinese Literature/Chapter 14

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Chapter 14: Yuan Drama — The Golden Age of Chinese Theater (1271–1368)

1. Introduction: Theater Born from Political Catastrophe

The Mongol conquest of China — completed with the fall of the Southern Song capital of Hangzhou in 1276 and the destruction of the last Song loyalist forces in 1279 — was, by any measure, one of the most profound disruptions in the history of Chinese civilization. The establishment of the Yuan dynasty (元朝, 1271–1368) by Kublai Khan (忽必烈, 1215–1294) placed China, for the first time in its long history, entirely under the rule of a non-Chinese people. The Mongols reorganized Chinese society into a rigid ethnic hierarchy — Mongols at the top, followed by Central Asians (色目人, Semuren), then northern Chinese (汉人, Hanren), and finally southern Chinese (南人, Nanren) at the bottom — and implemented a series of policies that fundamentally altered the social position of the Chinese literati class that had been the custodians of literary culture for over a millennium.

The most consequential of these policies, from a literary perspective, was the suspension of the civil service examination system. The examinations — which had been the principal means by which educated men entered government service and by which literary talent was identified, cultivated, and rewarded — were abolished in 1238 by the Mongols in the north and were not restored until 1315, and then only in a diminished form that favored Mongol and Central Asian candidates. For nearly eighty years, the traditional path from literary accomplishment to political power was closed. The Chinese scholar-official class — the shidafu (士大夫) who had dominated Song culture — found themselves marginalized, their classical learning devalued, their social prestige diminished, and their career prospects bleak.[1]

This catastrophe for the political elite proved to be a liberation for Chinese literature. Deprived of their traditional careers, many of the most talented writers of the era turned to forms of literary expression that the Song establishment had regarded as beneath the dignity of a true scholar: vernacular drama, popular song, and theatrical performance. The result was one of the most extraordinary outpourings of dramatic literature in world history — the Yuan zaju (杂剧, "variety plays"), which in a period of roughly a century produced a body of theatrical work that stands comparison with the dramas of Periclean Athens, Elizabethan England, and the Spanish Golden Age.

The Yuan dynasty is often regarded as a period of cultural decline — a dark age between the glories of the Song and the resurgence of the Ming. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Yuan was, above all, the golden age of Chinese theater, and the dramas it produced — the tragedies of Guan Hanqing, the romantic comedies of Wang Shifu, the philosophical plays of Ma Zhiyuan — remain among the supreme achievements of Chinese literary art and among the masterpieces of world dramatic literature.[2]

2. The Origins and Antecedents of Yuan Drama

Chinese theatrical performance has ancient roots. As early as the Zhou dynasty, court entertainers — jesters, acrobats, musicians, and dancers — performed at royal banquets and ritual ceremonies. The Han dynasty saw the development of the baixi (百戏, "hundred entertainments"), a broad category encompassing acrobatics, juggling, magic, animal performances, and rudimentary dramatic sketches. The Tang dynasty produced the canjun xi (参军戏, "adjutant plays"), a form of comic dialogue between two performers that is sometimes regarded as the earliest genuine Chinese dramatic form.

But it was during the Song dynasty that the immediate precursors of Yuan drama emerged. The washe (瓦舍, "tile houses") and goulan (勾栏, "fenced enclosures") of Song cities — the entertainment districts described in the previous chapter — were the nurseries of Chinese popular theater. Within these districts, professional performers developed several forms of theatrical entertainment: the zaju of the Northern Song, which combined comic sketches, songs, and acrobatic performances into loosely structured variety shows; the zhugongdiao (诸宫调, "medleys in various modes"), an elaborate narrative form in which a single performer alternated between spoken narration and sung passages in different musical modes; and the nanxi (南戏, "southern plays") that emerged in the Wenzhou (温州) region of Zhejiang province during the Southern Song.

The zhugongdiao form was particularly important as a precursor to Yuan zaju. The most celebrated example — the Xixiang ji zhugongdiao (西厢记诸宫调, The Story of the Western Wing in Various Modes) by Dong Jieyuan (董解元, fl. late 12th century) — retold the famous love story of the scholar Zhang Junrui and the beautiful Cui Yingying that had first been narrated in the Tang chuanqi tale Yingying zhuan (莺莺传, The Story of Yingying) by Yuan Zhen (元稹, 779–831). Dong Jieyuan transformed Yuan Zhen's brief prose narrative into an elaborate performance piece of over 50,000 characters, with a happy ending substituted for Yuan Zhen's original tale of abandonment — a transformation that directly anticipated Wang Shifu's great zaju adaptation of the same story a century later.[3]

3. The Structure of Yuan Zaju

The Yuan zaju — the dominant dramatic form of the Yuan dynasty and the vehicle for its greatest literary achievements — was a highly structured theatrical form with clearly defined conventions governing its composition and performance. Understanding these conventions is essential to appreciating the artistry of the Yuan dramatists and the nature of their achievement.

A standard zaju consisted of four acts (折, zhe), sometimes preceded by a "wedge" (楔子, xiezi) — a short introductory scene that established the dramatic situation. The four-act structure was remarkably rigid: unlike later Chinese dramatic forms, which could extend to dozens or even hundreds of scenes, the zaju confined its action to four acts, imposing on the playwright a discipline of compression and economy that shaped the aesthetic character of the form.

Each act was built around a suite of songs (套曲, taoqu) in a single musical mode (宫调, gongdiao). The songs within an act were all written in the same mode, and the sequence of modes across the four acts followed established patterns. The most common pattern employed the Xianlu (仙吕) mode for Act I, the Nanlu (南吕) mode for Act II, the Zhonglü (中吕) mode for Act III, and the Shuangdiao (双调) mode for Act IV — though other combinations were possible. The musical framework was thus an integral part of the dramatic structure, with different modes associated with different emotional qualities: the Xianlu mode was considered bright and clear, suited to opening scenes; the Nanlu mode was associated with tender, sorrowful emotions; and the Shuangdiao mode was vigorous and resolute, appropriate for climactic action.

The most distinctive convention of zaju performance was the restriction of singing to a single role. In each play, either the leading male role (正末, zhengmo) or the leading female role (正旦, zhengdan) — but never both — sang all the arias. The other characters were limited to spoken dialogue (白, bai or 宾白, binbai). This convention — which strikes modern audiences as extraordinarily restrictive — was in fact a powerful dramatic device. It focused the audience's attention on a single emotional perspective, creating an intense identification between the audience and the singing protagonist. The non-singing characters, confined to spoken dialogue, provided dramatic counterpoint, advanced the plot, and furnished comic relief, but the emotional heart of the drama — expressed through the arias — belonged to the single singing role.

The role types in zaju were clearly defined: the mo (末) roles were male characters, with the zhengmo as the leading man; the dan (旦) roles were female characters, with the zhengdan as the leading woman; the jing (净, "painted face") roles were forceful or comic characters; and the chou (丑, "clown") roles provided comic relief. These role categories — which would evolve and elaborate over the centuries into the complex role system of later Chinese opera — established a framework of performance conventions that audiences understood and that playwrights could exploit or subvert for dramatic effect.[4]

4. Guan Hanqing: The Father of Chinese Drama

Guan Hanqing (关汉卿, ca. 1220–ca. 1300) is universally regarded as the greatest dramatist of the Yuan dynasty and, by most assessments, the greatest dramatist in all of Chinese literary history. The fourteenth-century critic Zhong Sicheng (钟嗣成), in his Lugui bu (录鬼簿, Register of Ghosts, ca. 1330) — the earliest biographical dictionary of Yuan dramatists — placed Guan Hanqing at the head of his list, and subsequent generations of critics have confirmed this judgment. In 1958, the World Peace Council (a UNESCO-affiliated organization) named Guan Hanqing one of the great cultural figures of world civilization, and his works have been translated into dozens of languages.

Little is known with certainty about Guan Hanqing's life. He appears to have been a native of Dadu (大都, modern Beijing), the Yuan capital, and to have been a physician by training — though he may have practiced medicine only intermittently. He was deeply involved in the theatrical world of the Yuan capital, not merely as a playwright but as a performer and director, and his familiarity with the practical demands of the stage gives his plays an immediacy and theatrical vitality that distinguishes them from the more literary productions of some of his contemporaries.

Guan Hanqing is credited with approximately sixty-seven plays, of which eighteen survive in complete form. His range was extraordinary: he wrote comedies, tragedies, domestic dramas, historical plays, crime and courtroom dramas, and plays about romantic love. But it is in tragedy — and specifically in the depiction of injustice suffered by the powerless at the hands of the powerful — that Guan Hanqing achieved his greatest artistic triumphs.

His masterpiece is Dou E yuan (窦娥冤, The Injustice to Dou E, also known as Snow in Midsummer), a searing tragedy about a young widow named Dou E (窦娥) who is falsely accused of murder and executed despite her innocence. The play's power derives from its unflinching depiction of the corruption and brutality of the legal system — Dou E is framed by a villainous thug named Donkey Zhang (张驴儿, Zhang Lü'er), convicted by a corrupt magistrate who obtains her confession through torture, and executed despite her manifest innocence. In the climactic scene, as Dou E is led to the execution ground, she delivers one of the most famous speeches in Chinese dramatic literature — a passionate denunciation of Heaven and Earth for their failure to protect the innocent:

有日月朝暮悬,有鬼神掌着生死权。天地也,只合把清浊分辨,可怎生糊突了盗跖颜渊?为善的受贫穷更命短,造恶的享富贵又寿延。天地也,做得个怕硬欺软,却原来也这般顺水推船。地也,你不分好歹何为地?天也,你错勘贤愚枉做天!

Day and night, sun and moon hang in the sky;
Ghosts and spirits hold power over life and death.
Heaven and Earth! You should distinguish the pure from the foul —
How have you confused the robber Zhi with the sage Yan Hui?
The good suffer poverty and early death;
The wicked enjoy wealth and long life.
Heaven and Earth! You have become bullies — fearing the strong, oppressing the weak,
Just pushing the boat with the current!
Earth! If you cannot tell good from evil, what kind of Earth are you?
Heaven! If you mistake the wise for the foolish, you are Heaven in vain![5]

This speech — in which a helpless young woman, about to die for a crime she did not commit, turns her accusation not against her human oppressors but against the cosmic order itself — is one of the great moments of protest literature in any language. Before her execution, Dou E makes three vows: that her blood will fly upward instead of falling to the ground, that snow will fall in midsummer to cover her body, and that a three-year drought will afflict the region as proof of her innocence. All three supernatural signs come to pass, and in the fourth act, Dou E's ghost appears to her father — who has meanwhile risen to become a high official — to seek posthumous justice.

The play has been read as a protest against the injustices of Mongol rule, a critique of judicial corruption, and a universal drama of innocence destroyed by power. Its emotional force, its theatrical effectiveness, and its moral passion have made it the most frequently performed and most widely studied play in the Chinese dramatic tradition.[6]

Guan Hanqing's other surviving plays reveal the full range of his dramatic art. Jiufen chen (救风尘, Rescued by a Coquette) is a sharp social comedy about a clever courtesan who rescues her naive friend from an abusive marriage through an elaborate ruse. Dan dao hui (单刀会, Lord Guan Goes to the Feast) is a stirring historical play about the Three Kingdoms hero Guan Yu (关羽), celebrated for its martial energy and its powerful portrayal of heroic resolve. Wang Jiang ting (望江亭, The Riverside Pavilion) is a charming comedy of wit and ingenuity in which a young woman outmaneuvers a corrupt official to save her husband. In each of these plays, Guan Hanqing demonstrates his mastery of character, his command of dramatic structure, and his deep sympathy for the vulnerabilities and strengths of ordinary people — especially women — caught in the machinery of an unjust social order.

5. Wang Shifu and "The Story of the Western Wing"

If Guan Hanqing is the Shakespeare of Chinese drama, then Wang Shifu (王实甫, ca. 1260–ca. 1336) is its Dante — a writer whose reputation rests primarily on a single work of such transcendent quality that it overshadows everything else he produced. That work is Xixiang ji (西厢记, The Story of the Western Wing), the most celebrated romantic drama in the Chinese literary tradition and one of the most beautiful love stories ever written for the stage.

Wang Shifu is even more obscure than Guan Hanqing. Almost nothing is known of his life beyond what can be inferred from his works. He is credited with fourteen plays, of which only three survive, but the Xixiang ji alone would be sufficient to secure his place among the greatest dramatists of any era.

The Xixiang ji tells the story of the love between the scholar Zhang Junrui (张君瑞, often referred to simply as Zhang Sheng, 张生) and Cui Yingying (崔莺莺), the beautiful daughter of a former prime minister. The lovers meet at a Buddhist monastery where Yingying's family is temporarily staying, fall instantly in love, and must overcome the opposition of Yingying's mother — who considers Zhang Sheng an unsuitable match because of his poverty — with the help of the maid Hongniang (红娘, "Matchmaker"), one of the most beloved characters in all of Chinese literature. After a series of complications, misunderstandings, and emotional crises, the lovers are finally united — but only after Zhang Sheng has passed the imperial examinations and thereby demonstrated the social worthiness that Yingying's mother demanded.

The Xixiang ji is exceptional in several respects. First, it breaks the standard four-act zaju structure: it consists of five ben (本, "parts"), each containing four acts, for a total of twenty acts — making it, in effect, a cycle of five interlocking plays rather than a single zaju. This expanded form allowed Wang Shifu to develop his characters and his story with a psychological depth and narrative complexity that was impossible within the confines of the standard four-act format.

Second, the play's treatment of romantic love is revolutionary in the context of Chinese literary tradition. Earlier treatments of the Yingying story — including Yuan Zhen's original chuanqi tale and Dong Jieyuan's zhugongdiao adaptation — had treated the lovers' passion as either morally problematic (Yuan Zhen) or as an obstacle to be overcome on the way to conventional social success (Dong Jieyuan). Wang Shifu's play celebrates romantic love as an absolute value, worthy of any sacrifice and justified by its own intensity. The passion between Zhang Sheng and Yingying is presented not as a moral failing or a youthful folly but as the deepest expression of human authenticity — a theme that would resonate through Chinese literary culture for centuries and find its supreme expression in Tang Xianzu's Mudan ting (牡丹亭, The Peony Pavilion) three hundred years later.

The play's poetry is widely regarded as the finest in the entire zaju tradition. The arias — particularly those sung by Yingying and Hongniang — are characterized by an exquisite lyricism, a sensuous precision of imagery, and an emotional intensity that elevate them from dramatic verse to pure poetry. The famous farewell scene in Act IV of Part Four, in which Yingying bids goodbye to Zhang Sheng as he departs for the capital to take the examinations, contains some of the most celebrated lines in Chinese dramatic literature:

碧云天,黄花地,西风紧,北雁南飞。晓来谁染霜林醉?总是离人泪。

Azure clouds fill the sky, yellow flowers carpet the earth,
The west wind blows sharp, wild geese fly south.
At dawn, who has stained the frosty woods with crimson?
It is the tears of those who must part.[7]

The image of the autumn landscape as a reflection of the lovers' sorrow — the azure sky, the golden chrysanthemums, the migrating geese, and the frost-reddened leaves transformed into tears — is one of the supreme moments of Chinese lyric art, and it has been admired, quoted, and imitated for seven centuries.

The character of Hongniang — the maid who serves as intermediary between the lovers, who defies her mistress's mother to facilitate the romance, and whose wit, courage, and common sense provide both comic relief and moral commentary — is one of the great creations of world dramatic literature. She became so famous that her name entered the Chinese language as a common noun: hongniang (红娘) means "matchmaker" in modern Chinese, and the character has appeared in countless adaptations, from Peking opera to contemporary television dramas.[8]

6. Ma Zhiyuan, Bai Pu, and the Other Great Dramatists

The Yuan dramatic tradition, though dominated by Guan Hanqing and Wang Shifu, produced a remarkable number of talented playwrights. Zhong Sicheng's Lugui bu lists over 150 Yuan dramatists, and the critical tradition has long recognized a group of "Four Great Masters of Yuan Drama" (元曲四大家, Yuanqu si dajia): Guan Hanqing, Ma Zhiyuan, Bai Pu, and Zheng Guangzu — though some lists substitute Wang Shifu for Zheng Guangzu.

Ma Zhiyuan (马致远, ca. 1250–1321 or later) is the most philosophically minded of the Yuan dramatists. His most famous play, Hangong qiu (汉宫秋, Autumn in the Han Palace), retells the story of Wang Zhaojun (王昭君), the Han dynasty court lady who was sent to marry the leader of the Xiongnu barbarians as part of a peace treaty. In Ma Zhiyuan's version, the story becomes a meditation on political powerlessness and personal loss — themes that resonated deeply with Chinese intellectuals under Mongol rule. The emperor's helpless grief as he watches Zhaojun depart for the barbarian north was understood by contemporary audiences as a thinly veiled allegory for the Chinese experience under foreign domination.

But Ma Zhiyuan is perhaps best remembered as a master of the sanqu (散曲, "individual lyric songs") — the non-dramatic lyric form that flourished alongside the zaju during the Yuan period. His most famous sanqu — "Autumn Thoughts" (天净沙·秋思, Tianjingsha: Qiusi) — is one of the most celebrated short poems in the Chinese tradition:

枯藤老树昏鸦,小桥流水人家,古道西风瘦马。夕阳西下,断肠人在天涯。

Withered vines, old trees, crows at dusk;
A small bridge, flowing water, a few houses;
An ancient road, the west wind, a thin horse.
The sun sets in the west —
The heartbroken man stands at the edge of the world.[9]

The poem consists almost entirely of noun phrases — nine images presented without verbs, without explicit commentary, without emotional vocabulary — until the final line, which reveals the human consciousness that has been perceiving these images all along. The technique — what the critic might call "imagism" — creates a landscape of desolation that is simultaneously external (the physical scene) and internal (the emotional state of the traveler). Chinese critics have called this poem the "autumn thoughts of autumn thoughts" (秋思之祖, qiusi zhi zu), the unsurpassed masterpiece of a theme that Chinese poets had been exploring for two thousand years.

Bai Pu (白朴, 1226–after 1306) was one of the most versatile of the Yuan dramatists, equally accomplished in zaju drama and sanqu lyric. His Wutong yu (梧桐雨, Rain on the Paulownia Tree) — which retells the famous love story of Emperor Xuanzong and Yang Guifei during the An Lushan rebellion — is considered one of the finest Yuan tragedies, remarkable for its lyrical beauty and its evocation of the impermanence of love and glory. His Qiangtou mashang (墙头马上, Over the Wall on Horseback) is a delightful romantic comedy that combines wit, charm, and a surprisingly feminist sensibility in its portrayal of a young woman who takes the initiative in pursuing the man she loves.

Zheng Guangzu (郑光祖, fl. late 13th century), the fourth of the "Four Great Masters," is best known for Qiannu lihun (倩女离魂, The Soul of Qiannu Leaves Her Body), a supernatural romance in which a young woman's soul separates from her body to follow her beloved — a haunting dramatization of the power of love to transcend the boundaries of physical existence. The play's dreamlike quality, its exploration of the relationship between desire and identity, and its refusal to distinguish cleanly between the real and the imagined give it a strikingly modern sensibility.[10]

7. Sanqu: The Yuan Lyric Tradition

Alongside the zaju drama, the Yuan dynasty produced a rich tradition of non-dramatic lyric poetry in the form of the sanqu (散曲, "individual songs" or "dispersed songs"). The sanqu used the same musical forms and the same colloquial language as the arias in zaju plays, but freed from the dramatic context, they functioned as independent lyric poems — a new verse form that stood alongside the shi and ci as a vehicle for poetic expression.

The sanqu came in two forms: the xiaoling (小令, "short lyric"), a single song to a single tune — like Ma Zhiyuan's "Autumn Thoughts" quoted above — and the taoshu (套数, "song suite"), a sequence of songs in a single musical mode, similar to the aria suites in zaju but without dramatic context. The xiaoling — compact, imagistic, and often piercingly beautiful — was the more popular form and produced many of the most admired poems of the Yuan period.

The language of sanqu was markedly different from that of shi and ci poetry. Where classical shi and ci employed the refined, allusive diction of the literary language, sanqu embraced the colloquial — using vernacular vocabulary, popular idioms, slang, and even profanity with a freedom that was unprecedented in Chinese lyric poetry. This linguistic openness gave sanqu a directness, a vitality, and a humor that distinguished it sharply from the more decorous literary traditions. At its best, the sanqu combined the emotional intensity of the ci lyric with the earthy vigor of the spoken language, creating a poetic idiom that was at once refined and raw, literary and popular, elegant and irreverent.

The great sanqu poets — in addition to Ma Zhiyuan — include Zhang Yanghao (张养浩, 1269–1329), whose song suite "On Climbing to Tong Pass" (山坡羊·潼关怀古, Shanpoyang: Tongguan huaigu) contains one of the most quoted lines in Chinese literature: "When a dynasty rises, the people suffer; when a dynasty falls, the people suffer" (兴,百姓苦;亡,百姓苦); Qiao Ji (乔吉, ca. 1280–1345), whose sanqu are admired for their technical virtuosity and their delicate, ornate imagery; and Guan Yunshi (贯云石, 1286–1324), a Uyghur nobleman whose command of Chinese sanqu was so complete that he was regarded as one of the finest practitioners of the form — a remarkable testimony to the cross-cultural literary exchanges that characterized the cosmopolitan Yuan era.[11]

8. Why Drama Flourished Under Mongol Rule

The extraordinary flowering of drama and popular literature during the Yuan dynasty demands explanation. Why should a period of foreign conquest, political oppression, and cultural disruption have produced one of the richest bodies of dramatic literature in world history? Several factors converged to create the conditions for this achievement.

First and most fundamentally, the suspension of the examination system redirected literary talent from the composition of examination essays and classical poetry into the writing of plays and popular songs. Under the Song, a talented writer aspired to a career in government; under the Yuan, with that path closed or severely restricted, many writers turned to the theater as an alternative outlet for their literary abilities. The Yuan zaju corpus bears the marks of this infusion of elite talent: the plays are written with a literary sophistication, a psychological depth, and a philosophical seriousness that reflect the classical training of their authors, even as they embrace the vernacular language and the popular performance conventions of the commercial theater.

Second, the Mongol rulers, while they disrupted Chinese political institutions, actively patronized popular entertainment. The Mongol elite — who had their own rich tradition of oral performance, music, and spectacle — were enthusiastic consumers of theatrical entertainment, and they provided the financial support and the political protection that allowed the Yuan theater to flourish. The great cities of the Yuan empire — Dadu (Beijing), Hangzhou, and others — were centers of theatrical activity, with permanent performance venues and professional acting troupes that attracted both Chinese and non-Chinese audiences.

Third, the social disruption caused by the Mongol conquest produced a class of educated men who occupied an ambiguous position between the literary elite and the world of popular entertainment — men who had the literary training to write with sophistication and the social freedom (or social desperation) to write for the popular stage. These writer-performers — of whom Guan Hanqing is the supreme example — brought to the theater an artistic ambition and a literary self-consciousness that elevated the zaju from mere entertainment to genuine art.

Fourth, the themes of Yuan drama — injustice, oppression, the powerlessness of the virtuous, the corruption of authority, the consolations of love and friendship in a hostile world — resonated with the experience of Chinese intellectuals under Mongol rule. The great Yuan tragedies — Dou E yuan, Hangong qiu, Wutong yu — are plays about people who suffer unjustly at the hands of arbitrary power, and their emotional force derives in part from the audience's recognition that the injustices depicted on stage mirrored the injustices of their own political situation. Yuan drama was, in this sense, a literature of resistance — not in the sense of overt political opposition, but in the sense of bearing witness to human suffering and insisting on the moral accountability of those who cause it.[12]

9. The Southern Nanxi Tradition

While the northern zaju dominated the literary landscape of the Yuan dynasty, a parallel dramatic tradition — the nanxi (南戏, "southern plays") — continued to develop in the south, particularly in the Zhejiang and Fujian regions. The nanxi differed from the zaju in several important respects: it was not limited to four acts but could extend to thirty, forty, or even fifty scenes; singing was not restricted to a single role but was distributed among all the characters; the musical system was based on southern Chinese melodies rather than the northern modes used in zaju; and the language was closer to southern Chinese dialects.

The nanxi tradition produced several important early works, including the Yongle dadian xiwen sanzhong (永乐大典戏文三种, Three Plays from the Yongle Encyclopedia), which preserve some of the earliest surviving examples of the form. The most important nanxi of the Yuan period is generally considered to be Pipa ji (琵琶记, The Lute) by Gao Ming (高明, ca. 1305–ca. 1370), a long play about the conflict between filial piety and ambition, which tells the story of a scholar who goes to the capital to take the examinations, leaving behind his devoted wife and elderly parents. The scholar succeeds, is rewarded with a new wife and a brilliant career, and gradually forgets his family at home — while his first wife endures terrible hardships, including famine, to care for his parents. The play's exploration of the moral costs of success and the competing demands of duty, ambition, and love gives it a psychological complexity that anticipates the great domestic dramas of the Ming period.

The nanxi tradition is of fundamental importance in the history of Chinese theater because it was the direct ancestor of the chuanqi (传奇, "tales of the marvelous") — the dominant dramatic form of the Ming and Qing dynasties. The chuanqi inherited the nanxi's flexible structure, its distribution of singing among multiple characters, and its southern musical system, and it became the vehicle for the greatest dramatic achievements of the late imperial period, including Tang Xianzu's Mudan ting and Hong Sheng's Changsheng dian. In this sense, the apparently minor nanxi tradition of the Yuan dynasty proved to be more consequential for the long-term development of Chinese theater than the more celebrated zaju.[13]

10. Yuan Drama in Comparative Perspective: Chinese and European Medieval Theater

The golden age of Yuan drama (roughly 1250–1350) was roughly contemporary with the flourishing of medieval European theatrical traditions — the mystery plays, miracle plays, and morality plays that were performed in the cathedrals, town squares, and market places of England, France, Germany, and Spain during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The comparison between these two great theatrical traditions is illuminating, for it reveals both striking parallels and fundamental differences.

Both traditions emerged from non-literary origins: Chinese drama from the acrobatic and musical entertainments of the washe districts, European drama from the liturgical ceremonies of the Christian church. Both were performed for mixed audiences that included both the educated elite and the common people. Both employed a combination of speech, song, and spectacle. And both addressed, in different ways, the fundamental human questions of justice, suffering, love, and the relationship between the human and the divine.

But the differences are equally striking. European medieval drama was overwhelmingly religious in its subject matter — rooted in the Biblical narrative and the lives of the saints — while Yuan drama, though it sometimes employed Buddhist and Daoist themes, was primarily secular, concerned with the affairs of this world rather than the next. European medieval drama was communal and anonymous — the product of guilds, confraternities, and ecclesiastical institutions rather than individual authors — while Yuan drama was the work of identifiable individual playwrights whose names, biographies, and artistic personalities are known to us. And European medieval drama, whatever its theatrical merits, did not produce a body of literary texts that were valued as literature in their own right, while Yuan zaju — thanks to the literary sophistication of their authors and the refinement of their poetic language — were treasured as literary works and transmitted in carefully edited printed editions.

The closest European parallel to Yuan drama is perhaps the Spanish Golden Age theater of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which shared the Chinese tradition's combination of poetic refinement, social breadth, and theatrical vitality. But the Yuan dramatic achievement came three centuries earlier, and it remains one of the least known of the world's great theatrical traditions — a body of work that deserves to stand alongside the drama of Athens, Elizabethan England, and early modern Spain as one of the supreme achievements of human dramatic art.[14]

11. Conclusion: The Enduring Legacy of Yuan Drama

The Yuan dynasty lasted less than a century — from 1271 to 1368 — but its impact on Chinese literary culture was permanent and profound. The zaju plays of Guan Hanqing, Wang Shifu, Ma Zhiyuan, Bai Pu, and their contemporaries established drama as a major literary form in China, equal in artistic dignity and cultural significance to the classical poetry and prose that had previously monopolized the attention of the literary elite. The sanqu lyric demonstrated that vernacular language — the language of the streets, the markets, and the teahouses — was capable of the highest poetic achievement. And the theatrical culture of the Yuan — its professional acting troupes, its permanent performance venues, its audiences of both elite and common people — created an infrastructure of popular entertainment that would sustain Chinese drama for the next six centuries.

More broadly, the Yuan dynasty marked a decisive turning point in the relationship between elite and popular literary culture in China. Before the Yuan, vernacular literature — fiction, drama, popular song — had existed largely beneath the notice of the literary establishment, regarded as entertainment for the uneducated masses rather than as art worthy of serious critical attention. The Yuan changed this. When the finest literary talents of an era devoted themselves to writing plays in the vernacular language, performing them on the popular stage, and composing songs in colloquial Chinese, the old distinction between "literature" and "popular entertainment" became untenable. The great novels of the Ming dynasty — which are the subject of the next chapter — would build on this legacy, extending the artistic possibilities of vernacular Chinese to narrative fiction and creating works that are now recognized as among the supreme achievements of world literature.

The transition from the Yuan to the Ming — accomplished by the peasant rebel Zhu Yuanzhang (朱元璋, 1328–1398), who drove out the Mongols and founded the Ming dynasty in 1368 — restored Chinese rule and revived the examination system, but it did not reverse the literary revolution that the Yuan had set in motion. The genie of vernacular literature was out of the bottle, and it would never go back in.

References

  1. John D. Langlois, Jr., ed., China Under Mongol Rule (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981), 1–30.
  2. Wilt L. Idema and Stephen H. West, Chinese Theater 1100–1450: A Source Book (Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1982), 1–25.
  3. Stephen H. West and Wilt L. Idema, trans., The Story of the Western Wing (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), 1–60.
  4. J.I. Crump, Chinese Theater in the Days of Kublai Khan (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1980), 15–65.
  5. Translation adapted from Liu Jung-en, trans., Six Yuan Plays (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1972), 131–132.
  6. Shiao-ling Yu, Reading the Chuci Anthology: An Annotated Translation of Chu Ci (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2004); for Guan Hanqing more broadly, see Wilt L. Idema, The Dramatic Oeuvre of Chu Yu-tun (1379–1439) (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1985), 1–15.
  7. West and Idema, The Story of the Western Wing, 365.
  8. Patricia Sieber, Theaters of Desire: Authors, Readers, and the Reproduction of Early Chinese Song-Drama, 1300–2000 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 30–65.
  9. Translation adapted from Wayne Schlepp, San-ch'ü: Its Technique and Imagery (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1970), 32.
  10. George A. Hayden, Crime and Punishment in Medieval Chinese Drama: Three Judge Bao Plays (Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1978), 1–20.
  11. Wayne Schlepp, San-ch'ü: Its Technique and Imagery (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1970), 1–50.
  12. Stephen H. West, "Mongol Influence on the Development of Northern Drama," in Langlois, China Under Mongol Rule, 434–465.
  13. Wilt L. Idema, "Performance and Construction of the Chu-kung-tiao," Journal of Chinese Linguistics 5 (1977): 63–86; for nanxi, see also Tanaka Issei, "The Social Role of Theater in Yuan and Ming," in Idema and West, Chinese Theater 1100–1450, 277–310.
  14. Colin Mackerras, ed., Chinese Theater: From Its Origins to the Present Day (Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1983), 1–50.