Farewell to Sunflowers

Reading Anna Yin’s Poetry

In the Light of Neo-Confucianism

by

Paul Hartal

Based in Toronto, Anna Yin is a Canadian poet, born and educated in Mainland China. Her Farewell to Sunflowers (2007) is a delicate, moving and inspirational collection of beautiful poems.

Like a tree that grows from its roots, tradition plays a salient role in her poetic vision and its influence is reflected throughout the volume. The blending of East and West adds a fascinating dimension to her oeuvre. Her unique voice also represents a new direction in contemporary Canadian literature.

Let me start with the poem entitled The Great Wall (p. 16):

Upon my heart, the Great Wall

is an eternal home,

crossing over the Pacific Ocean.

My offspring will follow its beckoning

towards a root-searching return.   

Peeling off its outer coating, the verse yields itself to an analysis in a Confucian context.

The enduring legacy of Confucius, or Kong Fuzi (in pinyin form), 551-479 BCE, continues to influence Chinese society in fundamental ways. This stanza reflects one of the central Confucian virtues, namely, ancestral veneration, crystallized around filial piety and elaborated through the notion of the Xiao. This basic virtue starts from the primary human bond between parent and child, and widens through love and respect to one’s family and ancestors. The concept of filial piety and its ramifications are explained in the classic Confucian treatise of Xiaojing, written about twenty five centuries ago. The ideal reciprocity of care and responsibility between parent and child is also extended to a stratified model of loyal relationships across society, between ruler and subject, between husband and wife, older and younger siblings as well as friends. Peace and harmony depend on filial piety, mutual care, respect and loyalty between members of family and society. The extension of filial piety to the ancestors pays homage to the deceased, who continue to live through reverential memory.

 In my dream the Great Wall

is a flying dragon,

floating over lush mountains.

My ancestors fight their long journey

towards a peaceful and harmonious land.

A central concept of Confucius regards the virtue of Ren (Jen), or humane benevolence. This noble moral quality involves the goodness of helping others, care and concern for other human beings. Ren finds its touchingly reverberating expression in the poem Toronto, No More Weeping (p. 8), wherein the poet mourns the shocking murder of nine year old Cecilia Zhang:

Whirl winds brush away my tear,

streams moisten my tone.

The angel, a presence very near,

walks you into the eternal heaven.

May winds bring in your fragrance.

May birds sing in your tune.

May loved ones weave your dreams.

May the homeless find your lantern.

Another important Confucian precept, Yi, refers to an intuitive moral sense, the ability to recognize what is right and good. It resembles somewhat Freud’s superego. Yi, however, also involves empathy, consideration, kindness, charity, pity and grace. In Shadow (p. 46) the poet’s solitude transcends her own nuclear self, rising to a universal sphere illuminated by the light of compassion for a significant other:

You are slimmer

and more Lonely than I.

Your inner silence

never shows care

of my sorrows or joys.

I want to leave you

for where sunlight shines straight.

Seeing you shrink slowly.

I have an urge to hold you.

An additional Confucian norm entails Li, the virtue of doing things in an appropriate manner.  Main elements in this concept include a preference for simplicity and striving for respectful conduct. For my part, Anna Yin’s poetry itself is an embodiment of this principle, in which the idea of “less is more” plays a meaningful and significant role. In Because of the Wind (p. 36), for example, she creates economically a magically evocative atmosphere with an array of few words:

The poplars in my hometown

are slim as shadows;

bold branches

sneak into my dream.

Apart from Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism have also profoundly impacted the historical development of Chinese culture, and their respective layers can be recognized in Anna Yin’s poetry as well.

An ancient book of wisdom consisting of only 5,000 characters, the Daodejing (pinyin) or Tao Te Ching, is a seminal masterpiece of Chinese civilization. Its authorship is attributed to Laozi (pinyin), or Lao Tzu, the Old Master, who was perhaps a contemporary of Confucius. Laozi called for a return to nature and to the forgotten integrity of mind, body, emotion and spirit. He regarded the pursuit of knowledge as a harmful endeavour. Instead, he recommended the wisdom of taking the needs of all people into consideration and “to be good not only to the good, but also to those who are still absorbed in their own needs”.

 Laozi was a mystic. He held that existence manifests itself in the mysteries of the universe whose source is an inexhaustibly fertile and endless abyss. It transcends words and definitions: “The Tao that can be told is not the universal Tao”. Yet to live a life in accordance with the Tao, with the way of the universe, means to be in harmony with others, with the environment and with oneself.

Anna Yin’s poetry is imbued with this mystical Taoist sense of the unity of life and nature and the ineffable experience of existence. In Mourning for a Chinese Writer: Iris Chang (p. 12), the poet wonders:

How long will I hold up?

I feel your ashes around me.

Your song of life can’t be accomplished;

I hear the wind blow it away.

Time is an empty piano,

losing its tune.

What slips through our fingers

dreams or eternity?

By the third century Taoism and Confucianism became rival philosophical systems in China. However, during the Song Dynasty, 960-1279, a fusion of Confucianism and Taoism occurred and into this Neo-Confucian school a third element—Buddhism-- had been incorporated as well. Among other things, this Neo-Confucian school of thought included the ideals of filial piety and ancestral veneration, as well as the ancient Chinese vision of reality as complementary polar attributes of Yin and Yang. Yet, not all Neo-Confucian thinkers were content with the synthesis. For example, the influential Neo-Confucian scholar Zhu Xi, 1130-1200, interpreted Taoist and Buddhist tenets from a traditional Confucian point of view and was especially critical about Buddhism. In his opinion Buddhism was a doctrine that darkened the human mind and undermined the harmonious relations of society.

According to historians, Buddhism arrived in China around the later Han period (25-220) and reached its highest development during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). Borrowing from Hinduism, elements from Buddhist symbolism have been intertwined in Neo-Confucianism. The sacred lotus occupies a pivotal place among these. It is revered for its wholesomeness and elegance. It represents the purity of the body, speech and mind, floating above ugliness, chaos and desire. About a thousand years ago the Neo-Confucian scholar and poet Zhou Dunyi said: “I love the lotus because, while growing from mud, it is unstained”.  In Chinese architecture lotus motifs often adorn shrines and temples. Lotus lanterns hang on the Confucian Temple in Nanjing, dating back to the Sang Dynasty (960-1279). The roof of the Great Accomplishment Hall in he Temple of Confucius in Qufu—his hometown—is supported by 28 stone columns standing on lotus-flower shaped pedestals.

The arduous task of becoming established in a new country involves many sacrifices that compromises the cultural identity of immigrants and undermines their sense of wholeness and dignity. In the words of the poet in the title opus Farewell to Sunflowers (p. 4):

Those duckweeds and swimming fish,

those floating clouds and breezes,

are all behind me

in warm waves and lonely songs.

In turning, I lose my way

And feel the lotus core in pieces.

Leaving behind one’s homeland and settle in a new country is a difficult experience that brings about struggle for adjustment and results in a culture shock. The poet lives now in an alien place, in a strange country. She misses her familiar environment. March’s Rainy Curtain (p. 24), echoes her longing for her homeland: 

Come with me

to the South of China,

in rainy March.

Down a long lane,

under an oil-paper umbrella,

our strolling steps are

interwoven with raindrops.

Among May’s wreath,

late lilacs bloom and tulips sway

but they cannot prevent my nostalgia—

March’s dreamy curtain,

in drizzle and lilac scent,

fails to curl up.

In the poem of Root Carving (p. 30), a fallen tree becomes a metaphor of immigration:

Turn around,

we cuddle ourselves—

In layers of cold soil,

transplant our roots to another,

the hardship beyond anyone’s touch.

Anna Yin is an outstandingly gifted poet. Her Farewell to Sunflowers, is a magnificent collection of poignantly lofty and ethereally alluring poems. They sparkle like diamonds.

__________________________________________________

Paul Hartal

Montreal, April 26, 2008