Following the publication of The First Literary Genius of the Republican Era: Qian Zhongshu (Times Publishing), biographer Tang Yan is set to release The Two Worlds of Ye Gongchao. Qian Zhongshu, with his prolific writings and numerous commentators, posed the challenge of how to write a biography that stands out; Ye Gongchao, on the other hand, left few written works and limited materials, making the task of uncovering hidden aspects equally demanding. Yet Tang Yan not only draws on deep research but also completes these two remarkable biographies in a distinctive style. This showcases not only his talent and historical writing skill but also his solid academic foundation.
Ye Gongchao’s proficiency in English is universally acknowledged, which reminds me of Wen Yuanning, who also taught at Peking University and Tsinghua University and served the Nationalist government, and was similarly renowned for his command of English. However, Wen Yuanning’s English was strong while his Chinese was weak; his collection of essays commenting on contemporary Chinese cultural figures, Imperfect Understanding, could only be written in English. Liang Shiqiu once said that Ye Gongchao “was not good at Chinese,” but that was an overstatement, which Tang Yan refutes extensively in the book.
Ye Gongchao came from a family of scholars; his great-grandfather Ye Yanlan was a renowned Confucian scholar and literary master in Guangdong, and his uncle Ye Gongchuo (Xia’an) was a famous modern scholar of ci poetry, calligrapher, art connoisseur, and collector. In such an environment, it is no surprise that Ye Gongchao excelled in literature, poetry, calligraphy, and painting—especially in depicting orchids and bamboo. He wrote in the style of Chu Suiliang (with the vigor of stele inscriptions), displaying a majestic and vigorous spirit; his orchid and bamboo works were also outstanding, and his poetry and prose were no less impressive.
In the winter of 1961, Ye Gongchao was recalled to China from his post as Ambassador to the United States and relieved of all duties; the following autumn, he wrote a classical-style poem titled “In the Spring of the Renchen Year, Ordered to Negotiate the Sino-Japanese Peace Treaty, My Friend Guo Zesheng Once Sent Me a Poem Echoing Li Hongzhang’s Treaty of Shimonoseki; in the Winter of the Xin Chou Year, I Left My Post as U.S. Ambassador; in the Autumn of the Ren Yin Year, Returning from a Trip to Yehliu, I Echoed Its Rhyme.” The poem reads:
A yellow-hatted rider on a west wind, astride a white horse, dismounts,
Climbing up, he laughs at how hard the steps have become.
Birds returning to the woods, weary, know peace,
The blinding sunset shows no sign of fading.
I wish to borrow the rosy clouds to erase past tracks,
Not letting dangers disturb the heart’s altar.
Spring mountains, emerald bamboo, reach the skies with unyielding joints,
Glad to be seen by travelers along the path.