Christians in China between Tang and Yuan Dynasties

Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha (Jijang bosal)

Christians are widely thought to have been expelled from China towards the end of the Tang Dynasty, and welcomed again only with the establishment of the Yuan Dynasty.  In late Tang China, the Huichang Persecution that peaked in 845 forbid the practice of Christianity.  A Christian priest who journeyed to China about 980 reportedly found a destroyed church structure and only a single Christian.[1]  Because its Mongol leaders had close relations to Christians, the Yuan Dynasty supported Christians in China after its establishment in 1271.  Between 845 and 1271, Christianity in China seems to have had little recognized institutional support.

Christianity in China persisted even without institutional support.  Friar William of Rubruck, who traveled to the Mongol court at Karakorum in 1254, reported that Christians were then living in fifteen cities in northern China.  Rubruck reported:

As far as Cataia {northern China} there are Nestorians {Christians} and Saracens {Muslims} living among them with alien status.  The Nestorians are to be found in fifteen cities of Cataia, their episcopal seat being a city called Segin {Datong}; but further afield the people are exclusively idol-worshippers {Buddhists}. [2]

Rubruck was hostile to the Nestorians, whom he described as “ignorant.”  He doesn’t seem to have been interested in exaggerating the significance of Nestorian missionary activity.  Segin (Datong) was in fact the episcopal seat that encompassed the Mongol court at Karakorum, but in the eastern church’s institutional structure Segin was subordinate to the Christian metropolitan at Khanbaligh (Beijing).[3]  Evidence from the travels of Marco Polo indicates late thirteenth-century Christian communities in northern China.  These include Cacianfu (Hejian), which had one church building, and Egrigaia (Ningxia), which had three beautiful church buildings.[4]  Other evidence indicates that Christians persisted among Buddhists and Confucians in south China.[5]

Brief biographies exist of two Christians who grew up in early thirteenth-century China.  Bar Sauma was born in a Christian family living in early thirteenth-century Beijing. His father was a wealthy Christian, well known in Beijing, who held an office within the Christian church there.  Bar Sauma, whose name has biblical significance, was instructed in Christian doctrine as child.  He became an official in his local church.  He subsequently took holy orders as a monk with the ritual actions of the Beijing-area Metropolitan (archbishop).  In another city in early-thirteenth-century China, a man who was an archdeacon in his local Christian church had a son named Markos, born in 1244.  Markos was instructed in the doctrines of Christianity.  As a young man, he too became a Christian monk and was a disciple of Rabban Bar Sauma. After Bar Sauma and Markos withdrew from society to become Christian monks, they became known for wisdom and attracted pilgrims.[6]  The lives of Bar Sauma and Markos indicate that Christians were well-integrated into northern Chinese society before the establishment of the Yuan Dynasty.

Fundamental religious beliefs of persons are often expressed diffusely.  Different religious beliefs were not separated by great stone walls in ancient China.  Buddhists, Christians, Confucians, and Manichaeans could all be confused for each other.  With repression of Christian institutions in the late Tang Dynasty, Christians in China were more likely to assimilate into other, permitted religious institutions.  Material and institutional support for a distinctive way of life surely is important for it to flourish.  At the same time, an alternate way of thinking about the world is not easy to eliminate.

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Notes:

[1] Al-Nadim’s Fihrist, trans. Dodge (1970) v. 2, p. 836-7.  Id. states that the Christian monk was sent to China “about seven years ago” (relative to 377 AH / 987/88 GC) and returned “after six years.”  The monk declared:

When I saw that there were none to whom I could give support in their religion, I returned in less time than I had gone.

Christians in China probably had a low public profile and were closely associated with other groups, particularly Buddhists.  The monk, a foreigner who seems not to have spent much time in China, probably wasn’t well-informed about Christians across all of China.

[2] Rubruck’s Report, trans. Jackson (1990) p. 163.

[3] Id. n. 2.

[4] For Chinese cities for which there is evidence of Christian presence, Dauvillier & Pelliot (1973), pp. 133-136.  Evidence from Dunhuang “includes a scroll containing a Chinese translation of the hymn Gloria in excelsis Deo together with a long list of other Christian texts that had been translated into Chinese in the late 8th century.”  Yuanyuan (2013) suggests that Christians in China were highly assimilated with Buddhists.  The Cross Temple in the Fangshan District near Beijing seems to have had both Buddhist and Christian affiliations between the Tang and the Yang Dynasties.  Id. p. 286.

[5] Lieu (2012), pp. 31-34, describes epigraphic evidence of the persistence of Christians in Quanzhou between the Tang and Yuan Dynasties. Marco Polo reported seeing a beautiful Christian church in Quinsay (Hangzhou).  Dauviller & Pelliot (1973) p. 135.  Smbat the Constable, who traveled to the Mongol court at Karakorum in 1246, reported, “we have found many Christians scattered all over the East, and many fine churches, lofty, ancient, and of good architecture.”  Letter to King Henry I of Cyprus, c. 1248.

[6] The history of Yaballaha, trans. Montgomery (1927) pp. 27-33.  Markos was born “in the city of Koshang in the Country of the East.”  Koshang was a fourteen to sixteen days’ journey from Beijing (calculated based on Bar Suama’s and Markos’s travel times to their monastic retreat).  A leading scholar believes Koshang to be “Tong-chen, a town in the Ongut country (Odoric’s Tozan or Cozan), west of Peking.” Id. p. 30, n. 2.  Bar Sauma subsequently traveled to Rome as an official from the Church of the East and met with Pope Nicholas IV (Jerome of Ascoli) in 1288. Id. p. 67, n. 4.

[image] Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha (Jijang bosal); Korea, late Goryeo period, late 13th or early 14th century, Freer Gallery, S1992.11.

References:

Dauvillier, Jean, and Pelliot, Paul. 1973. Recherches sur les chrétiens d’Asie centrale et d’Extrême-Orient. Paris: Impr. nationale.

Dodge, Bayard Dodge. 1970. The Fihrist of al-Nadīm: a tenth century survey of Muslim culture. New York: Columbia University Press.

Jackson, Peter, trans. 1990. Willem van Ruysbroeck. The mission of Friar William of Rubruck: his journey to the court of the Great Khan Möngke, 1253-1255. London: Hakluyt Society.

Lieu, Samuel N.C. 2012. “3. The Church of the East in Quanzhou.” In Lieu, Samuel N. C. 2012. Medieval Christian and Manichaean remains from Quanzhou (Zayton). Turnhout: Brepols.

Montgomery, James A., trans. 1927. The history of Yaballaha the Third, Nestorian Patriarch, and of his vicar Bar Sauma, Mongol Ambassador to the Frankish courts at the end of the 13th century. Records of civilization, sources and studies, no. 8.  New York.

Yuanyuan, Wang. 2013. “Doubt on the Viewpoint of the Extinction of Jingjiao in China after the Tang Dynasty.” Pp. 279-298 in Tang, Li, and Dietmar W. Winkler. 2013. From the Oxus River to the Chinese shores: studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia. Berlin : LIT Verlag Münster.

medieval men protesting devaluation of masculine love

While men authored most of the surviving medieval Latin texts, voices of men writing self-consciously about masculine love are not common.  Inseminating women, working for money, dying for their country — if men did not perform these natural-cultural tasks, who would?  Christian clerical or monastic life offered men a different way, yet one largely unconcerned with men as distinctively sexed human beings.  Adam, the generic human, was the starting point for understanding the relationship between God and man.  Man in medieval discourse meant human being, not male human being.

Men’s masculine love had a disadvantaged position in medieval discourse.  A loving relationship between God and man was fundamental to medieval understanding of a rightly ordered world.  In medieval thought, God, the maker of heaven and earth, was figured as male.  The Church, the community of Christian believers in this world, was figured as female.  Jesus Christ had a circumcised penis.  Mary, the mother of God, had a womb.  In medieval typology, the Christian believer more naturally matched the type of the Church and Mary.  Mary loved Jesus within the intimate physical circumstances of a mother giving birth to a child.  Mary loved Jesus as a Christian disciple who followed Jesus to the cross.  Man’s love in medieval thought was that of the feminine first disciple Mary.

To appreciate fully men’s sexed protests, medieval texts must be read empathetically.  Medieval men’s sexed protests have generated literature similar to much of the past decades’ academic writing on gender, as well as to the Vagina Monologues.  Self-righteously and indignantly looking down upon such literature and forcefully categorizing it as misogyny is facile.  Within malicious, tedious, and depressing literature, the enlightened reader can find precious human insight.

A medieval Latin text offers rare insight into men’s self-consciousness about masculine love.  The text, which has attracted relatively little scholarly interest, has survived in manuscripts from the twelfth century.[1]  The text insistently addresses woman.  A few easily missed verses reveal a largely unrecognized sense of the medieval position of masculine love.  Consider this verse:

Woman, a man in all his actions of loving is a woman according to you.

{ Femina, vir certe sit amando femina per te. } [2]

Some sexual antagonism undoubtedly has occurred in loving, intimate heterosexual relations since the evolution of humans.  The peevishly enunciated phrase “according to you” is typical of such antagonism.  Men, however, don’t normally complain publicly about lack of appreciation for their full capacity to love.  Underneath this text’s peevishness is a man’s extraordinary self-consciousness about masculine love.

A couplet from the same twelfth-century Latin text offers an astonishing perspective on the sexual portion of masculine love.  The text declares:

Woman that pricks is like having a scorpion in one’s mouth.
Woman wants pricking, and wants it in her mouth.

{ Femina que pungit, ut scorpius ora perungit;
Femina vult pungi, sua que vult ora perungi. } [3]

The text’s scholarly editor notes that this couplet seems best interpreted as referring to sex.[4]  Women’s intemperate sexual eagerness toward men, usually toward men other than the speaker of the text, was a well-established topos in medieval literature.[5]  This couplet, however, describes specific aspects of women’s sexual behavior.  It may be a homosexual man’s deprecation of women’s sexual value.  It can also be interpreted as a heterosexual man’s protest against women’s lack of appreciation for typical masculine desire.  In either case, the couplet shows men self-consciously struggling against low social valuation of masculine sexuality.

What men want is a question that has seldom occurred to men or women.  Men’s dominance in elite public positions doesn’t mean that what is, is what men self-consciously want.  In the U.S. today, men are imprisoned for having done nothing more than have consensual sex, men are deprived of contact with their children in highly discriminatory ways, and men’s relatively high mortality attracts almost no public concern.  Men can hardly avoid sensing that they, as men, are not loved, and that their masculine love is not highly valued socially.  The deep roots of those natural-cultural circumstances are evident in medieval men’s protests against the devaluation of masculine love.

lone stuffed male aninmal

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Notes:

[1] The text, which its leading editor calls Carmen de proprietatibus feminarum (Walther, Initia, n. 1410), survives in whole or in a large part in at least sixteen manuscripts dating from the twelfth to the sixteenth century.  Placanica (2006).  The first two lines of the text are “Arbore sub quadam dictavit clericus Adam / Quomodo primus Adam peccavit in arbore quadam.” (Beneath a tree Adam the clerk wrote / Of how the first Adam sinned by means of a tree.)  De proprietatibus feminarum seems to be a satiric re-interpretation and elaboration of an earlier song, Carmen de Adam primo et novissimo.  Both songs have the same first two lines.  The later associates Adam’s fall and Jesus’s death with a tree; the former connects the tree to woman.  The text is in internally rhymed (leonine) hexameters.  That form was fashionable in Latin verse in the tenth and eleventh centuries. Ziolkowski (1989) p. 2.  Placanica (2006) provides edited Latin texts of both songs.  Owen (1887) provides a Latin transcription of De proprietatibus feminarum from Gudianus 192, along with suggested emendations. I’ve collated and made available online (also in Excel workbook download version) these Latin texts and my working literal English translations.  Additions to the texts and improvements to the translations are welcomed.

In its repeated, insistent address to “woman {femina},” De proprietatibus feminarum is similar to Ch. 3 (De Meretrice) in Marbod of Rennes’s Liber decem capitulorum. Another poem of men’s sexed protest, preserved in a single late-fourteenth century manuscript, begins with four couplets beginning with “woman {femina}”:

Woman, the origin of error and the first deception,
cast Adam, through her deceit, into the depths of the valley.
Woman, so as not to escape the crime of deceit,
gave the apple herself and greedily took the first bite.
Woman, so as not to escape the crime of deceit,
then said, “Eat. It will be very pleasant for you.”
Woman was the cause of our common death;
because of this, perpetual punishment pursues all of them.

{ Femina, principium fraudis, deceptio prima,
Adam per frauden vallis deiecit ad ima.
Femina, ne videat fraudis sibi tollere crimen,
ipsa dedit pomum, comedit et avida primum.
Femina, ne videat fraudis sibi tollere crimen,
“Comede” cum dixit “satis tibi fiet amoenum.”
Femina causa fuit mortis nostrae generalis,
poena tamen sequitur cuntas hinc perpetualis. }

Against Women {Contra mulieres} vv. 1-8, Latin text and English translation (modified slightly) from Hexter, Pfuntner & Haynes (2020) pp. 332-3. This poem survives only in the manuscript Vatican City, Biblioteca apostolica, Vat. lat. 1602. Id. p. 434.

[2] De proprietatibus feminarum (Walther, Initia, n. 1410), l. 43, ed. Placanica (2006) p. 189.  Latin text: “Femina, vir certe sit amando femina per te.”

[3] Id., ll. 30-31.  Latin text: “Femina que pungit, ut scorpius ora perungit; / Femina vult pungi, sua que vult ora perungi.”

[4] Placanica (2006) p. 193 (“Versus sequens obscenam significationem videtur praeferre.”)  The author’s conclusion in Boccacio’s Decameron alludes to sex with the declaration:

I confess that I am weighty, and in my day I have been weighed on many occasions, but speaking to those women who have no experience of my weight, let me assure them that I am not heavy.

{ Io confesso d’esser pesato, e molte volte de’ miei dí essere stato; e per ciò, parlando a quelle che pesato non m’hanno, affermo che io non son grave }

The author’s conclusion also states:

I confess, however, that the things of this world aren’t stable but are always changing, and that might explained what happened to my tongue. For not so long ago, distrusting my own judgment, which in matters concerning myself I avoid as much as possible, I was told by the one of the women next door that I had the best and sweetest one in the world, and in all honesty, this occurred when only a few of the stories I have been talking about still remained to be written.

{ Confesso nondimeno le cose di questo mondo non avere stabilità alcuna ma sempre essere in mutamento, e cosí potrebbe della mia lingua esser intervenuto; la quale, non credendo io al mio giudicio il quale a mio potere io fuggo nelle mie cose, non ha guari mi disse una mia vicina che io l’aveva la migliore e la piú dolce del mondo: e in verità, quando questo fu, egli erano poche a scrivere delle soprascritte novelle. }

Italian text from Decameron Web, English translation (modified slightly) from Rebhorn (2013) p. 859.  This latter banter seems to allude to one form of the sex described resentfully above.

Classical literature addressed fellatio and cunnilingus directly. For epigrams addressing a range of sexual acts not of reproductive type, see. e.g. Greek Anthology 5.49 and Ausonius, Epigrams 75 (Kay) / 79 (Evelyn-White). In classical literature, men were typically disparaged for engaging in cunnilingus. See, e.g. Martial, Epigrams 1.77, 11.25, and Ausonius, Epigrams 82-87 (about Eunus).

[5] The topos goes back at least to Juvenal, Satire 6: 115-32, which describes Claudius’ wife sneaking out at night to work as a whore.  The thirteenth-century Latin poem De coniuge non ducenda irreverently declares:

A woman will receive all males:
no prick against her lust prevails.
For who could fill his spouse’s spout?
Alone she wears the district out.

{ Omnem suscipiet femina masculum
Omnemque subdita vincet testiculum.
Quis potest coniugis implere vasculum?
Nam una mulier fatigat populum. }

De coniuge non ducenda, trans. Rigg (1986) pp. 89, 91.  Andreas Capellanus, De Amore, III.104-106, argues that every woman is always lustful. De Amore more generally pushes to inimical extremes common characterizations of women. De amore thus indirectly suggests that claims of women’s sexual intemperance were prevalent.  De amore was written c. 1185. Walsh (1982) provides an English translation of De Amore.

References:

Hexter, Ralph J., Laura Pfuntner, and Justin Haynes, ed. and trans. 2020. Appendix Ovidiana: Latin poems ascribed to Ovid in the Middle Ages. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library, 62. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Owen, S. G. 1887. “A Medieval Latin Poem.” The English Historical Review. 2 (7): 525-526.

Placanica, Antonii. 2006. “Arbore sub quadam dictavit clericus Adam (Walther, Initia, nn. 1409 et 1410).” FuturAntico (Università di Genova. Dipartimento di archeologia, filologia classica e loro tradizioni). 3: 149-214.

Rebhorn, Wayne A., trans. 2013. Giovanni Boccaccio. The Decameron. New York : W.W. Norton & Company.

Rigg, A. G. 1986. Gawain on marriage: the textual tradition of the De coniuge non ducenda with critical edition and translation. Toronto, Ont., Canada: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies.

Ziolkowski, Jan M. 1989. Jezebel: a Norman Latin poem of the early eleventh century. New York: P. Lang.

Walsh, P. G. 1982. Andreas Capellanus on love. London: Duckworth.

cleric-scholars’ Latin lyrics long for bodily action

When you had a boo-boo, and your mother kissed it and made it better, you were innocent of the outrageous satire.  In twelfth-century Christian courts of western Europe, cleric-scholars wrote Latin love lyrics lamenting that they would die without a young woman’s kiss.  According to the Christian gospel, Judas betrayed Jesus to death with a kiss.[1]  The cleric-scholars sought a kiss in literary Latin lyrics seeking sex.  At least one acknowledged that his deeds would bring grief in punishment to come.[2]

The cleric-scholars knew what they were doing with literary figures.  Ovid, lamenting his heartbreak in exile, wrote to a friend attempting techniques of consolation:

A doctor can’t always cure a person that’s ill;
a bad condition sometimes trumps all learned skill.

{ Non est in medico semper relevetur ut aeger;
Interdum docta plus valet arte malum. } [3]

A twelfth-century cleric-scholar substituted a single word in Ovid’s couplet to describe curing lovesickness:

A doctor can’t always cure a person that’s ill;
a caressing touch sometimes trumps all learned skill.

{ Non est in medico semper relevetur ut aeger;
Interdum docta plus valet arte manus. } [4]

For an abstract word the author substituted a word for a specific body part.  Reason or carnal love, being a student of Athena or of Venus, were alternatives considered at length in other closely related songs.[5]  Following the couplet declaring the failure of the doctor’s learned skill, another couplet elaborated on the human body’s value:

Eloquence gives to a wise man the power of faith,
when his fully vibrating voice resounds pleasingly.

{ Vim fidei menti facundia dat sapienti,
Cum resonat plene prolatio vocis amene. } [6]

In the ancient novel Apollonius of Tyre, a medical student resurrected an apparently dead, but very beautiful girl.  He used erotic medical technique.  The cleric-scholars may have studied Apollonius of Tyre or similar literature.

The cleric-scholars’ Latin lyrics express longing for natural bodily action.  One song describes a shepherdess, carrying newly shorn wool, going out at dawn with her flock of three pairs of animals.  She sees a scholar sitting in the grass and says to him:

What are you doing there, sir?
Come and play games with me.

{ Quid tu facis, domine?
Veni mecum ludere. }[7]

A scholar sitting in the grass might as well be singing a dirge for his bookishness.  The shepherdess and animal pairs evoke erotic tones like those of Daphnis and Cloe.  This song, which scholars categorize as pastoral, seems also elegiac.

Human beings long for bodily sense and bodily activity.  Popular Christianity in twelfth-century Europe offered awe-inspiring art and architecture, liturgical worship filled with bodily movements, incense, and singing, journeys of pilgrimage and battle, touching relics and shrines, and the taste of communion.  Nonetheless, some cleric-scholars with learned literary technique sought sex.  Perhaps their study over-emphasized Christian contrasts between spirit and flesh.[8]  In any case, cleric-scholars professionally tend to be immobile.  They have a hazardous occupation.

bike racing beats studying

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Notes:

[1] See, e.g. Mark 14:44-45.

[2] Carmina Burana, no. 139 (Tempus transit horridum), trans. Walsh (1993) p. 165.  Id. helpfully provides the Latin lyrics and a fairly literal English translation for sixty love lyrics from the Carmina Burana.  Parlett (1986) provides a broader selection of songs translated into English verse.  That work does not provide the Latin lyrics.

[3] Ovid, Epistolæ ex Ponto, 1.3.17. Here’s the full  Latin text. The above translation is mine in some specifics, but consistent with widely available English translations. Epistolæ ex Ponto is freely available online in English translation via Poetry in Translation.

[4] Carmina Burana, no. 176, stanza 1. Here are the Latin lyrics from the Carmina Burana.  Classen (2010), p. 482, indicates that this couplet can be read sexually.  I think that’s the right way to read it.

[5] Carmina Burana, nos. 56 (Ianus annum circinat) & 108 (Vacillantis trucine), trans. Walsh (1993) pp. 1-2, 137-8. The later song declares that Reason “thinks to console me with the scholar’s exile.” Ovid’s “scholar’s exile” was the heartbreak that motivated him to write the above couplet in Epistolæ ex Ponto.

[6] Carmina Burana, no. 176, stanza 2. The above is my translation. An alternate translation:

Eloquence gives persuasiveness to the clever mind,
when the linguistic art of a pleasant voice resounds.

Marshall (2014) p. 212.

[7] Carmina Burana, no. 90 (Exiit diliculo), trans. Walsh (1993) p. 100.  Id. notes scholarly controversy over whether the third stanza, which is the source of the above quote, is spurious.  The broader understanding above suggests it’s not.  The defective rhymes and rhythms of the third stanza may be a deliberate travesty of Latin learning.  Such would elevate the life of the shepherdess and depreciate that of the scholar.  A leading scholar of Latin lyrics has described their distinguishing characteristics as “pervasive wit” and “innocence.”  With respect to innocence, he stated:

As far as I know, {in Latin lyrics} there are none of those astonishing moments in which a poet can at times see through himself, watching his own movements of thought and feeling and behaviour with a kind of vulnerable detachment.  Whether in their poetry they are suffering or successful lovers, joyously sensual or worshipping from afar, they are innocents in that essentially they do not question themselves, never momentarily step back to observe themselves critically in their own attitudes.

Dronke (1996) p. 143.  While that may be true in general, it doesn’t seem to be the case for the specific Latin lyrics considered above.

[8] E.g. Romans 8:5-6, Galations 5:16-17.  Christians believe in Christ, the incarnation of God, the Son of God, the word made flesh among persons of this world.  Paul exhorts Christians to put on the new clothes of Christ.  Central Christian beliefs thus closely relate physicality and spirituality in a transformative way.  Hostility to the body within Christianity needs to be explained, not taken for granted.

References:

Classen, Albrecht. 2010. “The Carmina Burana: A Mirror of Latin and Vernacular Literary Traditions from a Cultural-Historical Perspective: Transgression is the Name of the Game.” Neophilologus. 94 (3): 477-497.

Dronke, Peter.  1996.  The Medieval Lyric. 3rd ed.  Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK ; Rochester, NY, USA : D.S. Brewer.

Marshall, Tariq. 2014. The Carmina Burana: Songs from Benediktbeuren: a full and faithfull translation with critical annotations. 3rd edition. Los Angeles: Marshall Memorial Press.

Parlett, David. 1986. Selections from the Carmina Burana: a verse translation with notes and introduction. London: Penguin.

Walsh, Patrick Gerard. 1993. Love Lyrics from the Carmina Burana. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

illustrated books pervasive in 18th-century Japan

Japanese scroll showing women airing books

A large, silk scroll with a lavish patterned-gold border hangs at the entrance to a current Sackler Gallery exhibit.  The scroll is from late eighteenth-century Japan.  It shows four women and a boy engaged in mushiboshi for a large number of books — cleaning and airing the books to avoid their being damaged from mildew and insects. One woman, neglecting the task, is engrossed in reading one of the books.  Another woman adjusts her hair-piece.  A third, assisted by the boy, hangs a book on a line like the laundry hanging on another, nearby line.

This sumptuous scroll hangs at the entrance to the exhibit Hand-Held: Gerhard Pulverer’s Japanese Illustrated Books.  The exhibit shows cheaply bound, woodblock-printed illustrated books that became pervasive in Japan from about 1600.[1]  Most owners of these books probably did not treat them as precious objects to be carefully preserved.  The scroll reflects passively on the stark new order of communications.  Perhaps the scroll offered pleasure like that of elegy.  Perhaps it was commissioned for a publisher who got rich from the new, cheap, popular illustrated books.[2]

Japanese publishers by the eighteenth century used a variety of means to sell books widely.  Publishers vertically integrated from the commissioning and production of books to their retail marketing.  That business integration diversified book sales risk and allowed rapid response to popular tends.  Woodblock printing and cheap-quality bindings reduced book cost, while the development of cheap color printing increased the attractiveness of books.  Book illustrators created illustrations that crossed book gutters and openings as if those physical features did not exist and the book was like a more expensive scroll.  Chinese books were augmented with phonetic Japanese characters to make the books more accessible to persons without extensive eduction.  Publishers marketed sexually explicit content, which has always had popular allure.

Another marketing technique was serialization and encouraging collecting.  One publisher from 1836 to 1841 produced a series of 75 cheap, illustrated volumes.  The publisher also sold a roughly made bookcase for storing the whole collection.[3]  The bookcase emphasized that these books, pushed out at the amazing rate of 15 a year, should not be regarded as ephemera.  Marketing genius is being able to figure out how to deny the obvious.

While Hand-Held: Gerhard Pulverer’s Japanese Illustrated Books concerns popularization of media in Japan, it’s not a popularly welcoming exhibit.  The exhibit encompasses about 120 books, frozen open in glass cases.  That gives the exhibit the feel of a nineteenth-century display of stuffed animals.  Browsing the books in an active way is impossible.  The exhibit does not even allow non-flash photography.  The most attractive aspect of the exhibit arrangement is viewing the display cases from an oblique angle and seeing the books like a flock of butterflies. That view invokes a feeling that was probably like early popular joy in the numerous, widely accessible illustrated books that the exhibit displays.

Pulverer collection of Japanese illustrated books

The Sackler Gallery is developing new media for access and interaction with the Pulverer Collection.  The online, scrolling display of a three-book series from the Collection is beautiful and insightful.  But that’s just a small taste of what’s to come.  The Sackler Gallery is working to make the entire Pulverer Collection available online with cover-to-cover images, detailed data and analysis.[4]  Incorporating such access technology with display of the physical objects would make for a much better exhibit.

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Hand-Held: Gerhard Pulverer’s Japanese Illustrated Books is on display at the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery in Washington, DC, from April 6 to August 11, 2013.  Entrance is free and open to the public.

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Notes:

[1] The Japanese term for such books is ehon.  The Charles Nelson Spinks Collection at American University includes a substantial number of Edo-period ehon.  Wide circulation of ehon and other printed material in Edo-period Japan contributed to a unified Japanese body of public information.  See Berry, Mary Elizabeth. 2006. Japan in print information and nation in the early modern period. Berkeley, Calif: University of California Press.  Here’s an insightful review and response.  The scroll above shows books without illustrations.  Surely the scroll’s illustrator was aware of the prevalence of ehon.  The depiction of books without illustrations complicates interpretation of the scroll, but the fundamental idea seems clear.

[2] Included at the top of the scroll is a cuckoo flying (not shown above).  According to the Sackler’s description of the scroll:

The cuckoo flying overhead is often associated with images of courtesans or with poetry expressing love and longing.

The cuckoo seems to me to favor the elegiacal interpretation.

[3] Ehon tsuzoku sangoku shi, illustrated by Katsushika Taito II, 1836-1841.

[4] Other interesting new-media projects in which the Freer/Sackler is participating include The Story of the Beautiful: Peacock Room Website, and the virtual Dunhuang exhibit.

[images] Women Airing Books and Clothes (cropped slightly), Katsukawa Shunsho (Japanese, 1726-1792), created in the late 18th century, color and gold on silk, H: 201.5 W: 113.1 cm, Japan F1905.309; Hand-Held exhibit case photograph.