Matthew Wells’s welcome new monograph joins several recent studies that finally recognize the period between the Han (206 BCE—220 CE) and Sui-Tang dynasties (581—907) as an era of seminal developments in many areas of Chinese history and intellectual life. A quick perusal of any issue of the journal Early Medieval China over the last decade will demonstrate the richness of new additions to the field. Short but dense, Wells’ book covers a huge swath of scholarly territory and has broad and important implications for several areas. It makes significant contributions to Chinese literature, comparative literature, Chinese history, and the history of Chinese religions.
Wells argues that Ge Hong (283—343), in his postface to the Baopuzi 抱朴子 “Master Who Embraces the Uncarved Block,” wrote the first work in Chinese that we can identify as autobiography. He begins by defining early Chinese autobiography on its own terms, divorced from modern expectations of the genre. He remains refreshingly free of the “evolutionary” view that assumes all examples of the genre everywhere have been moving towards the point where we find ourselves today. His study lays the groundwork for a more global and less culturally biased theory of autobiography than has previously been possible.
Wells adopts an interdisciplinary perspective, recognizing that the medieval Chinese world does not divide neatly into the fields circumscribed by modern university departments. Although he ranges across many eras and texts, he never confuses the reader because in each case he gives the information relevant to his argument (and no more).
To properly define autobiography, Wells contrasts the sources and motivations of early Chinese and Western autobiographies. He locates biography and autobiography in relation to Chinese literary and historical traditions. Chinese historical writing, including biography and autobiography, was never purely factual. Authors of historical accounts intended to pass judgment on actors and their actions, thereby teaching ethical and political lessons to future generations. Wells also investigates the construction of individual identity and subjectivity in early China, contrasting Chinese and Western historical subjects. Beginning with the Confessions of Saint Augustine, Western self-narratives have required an accurate account of one individual, whereas Chinese authors of both biography and autobiography have located the individual within family, social, political, or intellectual networks. Early Western works stemmed from a discourse of sin, penitence, and salvation. In contrast, Ge Hong's self-narrative grew from his awareness of the power of historians to judge the subjects of the biographies they wrote and from his consequent desire to take charge of his own story and reputation so as to control the message future generations would take from his life.
Wells suggests that the identity, agency, and self-narrative of the autobiographical subject spring from cultural constructions of the individual and his role in society. For example, Ge Hong identified himself as a literary recluse. Wells asserts that, far from living the life of an isolated hermit divorced from the world that this label suggests, recluses played an active role in politics and literature during their lifetimes. Ge Hong's process of self-creation and self-narration in his authorial postface resulted from his needs as an author rather than from an antisocial stance.
Most of us previously knew Ge Hong as a chronicler of Daoist transcendence and defender of the effectiveness of alchemical elixirs of immortality. To Die and Not Decay broadens our understanding of his role in society as well as his contributions to Chinese historical and literary traditions. The double meaning of the title speaks to his double identity: Ge Hong the autobiographer achieves immortality by leaving a lasting record of his time on earth, while Ge Hong the Daoist adept hoped to gain transcendence in an incorruptible physical body that ascended to heaven.
The author provides several features that make the monograph accessible to the reader. He supplies a handy glossary of the romanized titles of the major Chinese texts consulted, along with English translations. He includes the Chinese characters for each name and term at first mention and the entire Chinese text of each translated passage. This allows the reader both to check his translations and to learn new terms, and should be the standard for sinological works. I would only suggest that subsequent editions add a map and chronological chart to the reference matter.
In conclusion, the author's new ideas about how to think about autobiography, combined with his clear writing, original research, deft handling of sources, and convincing arguments, make To Die and Not Decay a pleasure to read and share. His critical but respectful style of discourse as he discusses the frequently conflicting ideas of scholars also promotes something many of us hope for—thoughtful conversation between historical and literary scholars inside and outside of China.
