FenShuKengRu 焚書坑儒 - Burn the Books, Bury the Scholars

GuZhe 瞽者 Chapter 5

Introduction

The Chinese phrase FenShuKengRu 焚書坑儒 literally translates as burn the books and bury the scholars. Originally, this phrase refers to the time period between 212-213 BCE when Chinese emperor Qin ShiHuang 秦始皇 (259–210 BCE) purportedly ordered the burning of texts and burial of 460 live Confucian scholars. Although this story was documented in Han Dynasty historian Sima Qian's Shiji (Records of the Grand Historian), a foundational text of Chinese civilization, some modern scholars question its validity. Nonetheless, throughout human history, all across the globe, a typical strategy for a small group of powerful individuals to streamline their political purpose or personal agenda has been to seek the destruction of the existing education system. I grew up during this kind of political movement.

I started writing this chapter while on a recent personal trip to China, after visiting my grandparents’ tomb during QingMing 清明. One of the most important holidays of the year, the origins of the QingMing festival go back for more than 2500 years, and is the day we honor our ancestors. Visiting my grandparents’ tomb brought back many memories and gave me inspiration to write.

Fig. 1 - My grandparents’ tomb

Previously, from GuZhe chapter 4

The whole world had been turned upside down! Even Confucius, who had been respected as the Greatest Sage Master for over two thousand years, was suddenly marked as the Number One Bad Guy by the Long Live Chairman. I emerged from my peaceful heavenly cave shortly after those Red Guards — the “nationalist” young teenagers, girls and boys, marched to Confucius’ tomb in ShanDong 山東 province, QuFu 曲阜 city, with gunpowder and completely destroyed his temple as well as the cemetery of his family and disciples.

Destroy the Old Things

The loud noises downstairs and in the yard woke me from a deep sleep. None of these young teenagers cared about a sleeping baby. A few rushed into our home, shouting loudly and searching for old books. Grandmother assured them that we had already burned all our books, as every person in every village, every town, and every city in China had already been ordered to burn them. They disregarded her, pushing past her to climb the ladder to reach the second and third floors in order to search any possible hiding place. I was scared by these loud strangers, especially the one who crawled under my bed where I had been sleeping. To this day, I remember this young man’s angry face. One of the leaders of the group, I remained scared of him for my entire childhood.

These young strangers did not find any contraband material in our home during this raid, but were too riled up to simply give up and walk away. They wanted to feel successful in their mission. Suddenly, one of them discovered a set of beautiful ceramic bowls in our kitchen drawer. “These look like antiques!,” as he pointed the bowls out to others. “Yes, let’s destroy them!,” another one responded. Grandmother stood there and sadly watched as some smashed the bowls on the floor and others broke apart our wooden furniture, just because they could. As young as I was, I could feel her heart break.

My Grandmother was originally from a relatively wealthy local family. These bowls had been a wedding gift from her older brother, who, like all other “landlords” or heads of household, was killed by the new government, simply because he reached the arbitrary wealth threshold and had been sentenced to death. The last physical material that connected her with her brother was now eliminated.

Beat Down all the Ghosts and Spirits

My grandmother was born with one limping leg. She was very small, and was tidy, clean, graceful and generous, no matter how unfairly life treated her. In her China, every child had to earn their keep. From a very young age, despite her handicap, she learned how to take care of herself. Her life experiences taught her that she could not fight or even argue with the young people who came to destroy her things. She knew that broken bowls and smashed furniture was just the beginning of a different kind of nightmare she had to learn to survive.

It often happened that the young major of the village would push open our front door during dinner time, and walk straight up to my grandmother’s room to tear apart her small work station and the traditional “ghost money” she made for her illegal business (all forms of business represented capitalism and was illegal during that time period). Our family would become frozen mid-bite, listening quietly to the loud noises of destruction coming from upstairs. I remember his rage, shouting at my grandmother before storming out of the house, “How dare you keep this up! I will keep coming here and ruin all of your things!”

These thundering sounds scared me then, brought up my past-life war nightmares, and made me literally sick. I was regularly very sick during my first 8 year life stage. But they didn’t scare my grandmother! She kept doing her jobs. The people of our community needed her help, the ghosts and spirits needed her help.

At the time, in our region, there was no such thing as a funeral home. My grandmother was one of the few people in our area who was not scared of dead bodies or of ghosts. Every time someone in our village or the surrounding villages would pass away, the family would come to ask my grandmother to go to their house, to clean the body of their loved one, and to dress the body in new clothes for the funeral. She had a very gentle spirit which helped the family through their difficult time, and she never charged any money for this service.

In Chinese tradition, we believe that we need money in the underground world just as we need money in our regular daily lives. For this reason, families burn special hand crafted “ghost money” for their dead loved ones during certain festivals and for the yearly anniversary of their death. However, during this time, this tradition, along with all other traditions, including traditional books, arts, and antiques, were considered “old trash,” and ordered forbidden and destroyed, nation wide. Grandmother was the ghost money maker in the area and thus was targeted by local officials and the Red Guards.

An Uplifting Spirit

My fearless Grandmother was not scared of ghosts nor was she afraid of those young raiders. She knew the families who needed her support during their time of loss. She continued to secretly craft ghost money. She continued to carry it, hidden in her bamboo basket, while hiking the mountain trails with her walking stick, to all the different families in need. She did this no matter how many times the young people invaded our home.

Grandmother kept making ghost money until her late eighties, when her failing eyesight finally prevented her from doing this job. She never stopped working though. Well into her nineties, she peeled shrimp for export in order to do her part to help the family.

Fig. 2 - My grandmother, busy peeling shrimp by the pound, for export

Grandmother not only raised her own two elementary school children by herself after her husband, my grandfather, passed away, but she also helped raise our neighbors’ children, and of course helped raise me and my brother when my mother was busy at work. Throughout her life, some of these neighbor children, even when grown, would seek her out each Lunar New Year season, bearing gifts in honor of the village grandmother who helped raise them.

Grandmother passed away in 2001, shortly after I moved to United States. Sadly, I did not have a chance to return home for her funeral as my visa did not allow me to leave the US for the first several years. Although I missed the funeral, I took solace knowing that her uplifting spirit has always been a permanent part of my heart and continues to serve as an inspiration for me to help others.