1. Introduction
Like many subgenres of poetry, the quantity of yongwu shi 詠物詩 (poetry on objects or things) dating from the Qing dynasty is extremely large, since almost all Qing poets include many yongwu poems in their literary collections.Footnote 2 The Qing imperial court also officially acknowledged the significance of yongwu poetry through the compilation of an imperially reviewed anthology of yongwu poems in 1707.Footnote 3 Since Qing dynasty yongwu poetry flourished, and yet remains understudied, we could turn to the methodologies used to read yongwu poetry of earlier periods, such as: a cross-genre comparison using the concepts of “artifice” and “metaphor”;Footnote 4 a review on the challenges to, and restoration of, the canonical notion and symbolic meanings of the object;Footnote 5 or a wide-ranging discussion of literary and emotional relationships between the “object” and the “poet”.Footnote 6 These methodologies focus on yongwu poetry itself, helping us to understand the development of the poetic style and allegorical significance of the yongwu mode. In this paper, however, I would like to propose a shift away from methodologies that look at what defines yongwu poetry, to a focus on the object itself.
In conventional studies of yongwu poetry, the object is often assumed to be unchanging and detached from the real world, with no engagement with issues other than the poet's sentiments. This assumption can lead to the rather bland conclusion that the object is merely a vehicle for the poet's feelings. In fact, the object in the yongwu subgenre can be situated in a much more dynamic position, and the attributes of the object change with its relationship to the material, political, social or literary culture. Therefore, as an alternative approach, this paper studies yongwu poetry with a focus on the object, and evaluates the meanings and implications given to the object. This is not to see how a poet uses the object to express his feelings; on the contrary, it is to see how an object changes through time, how it relates to other cultural issues, and how it can be interpreted in different socio-political circumstances.
In this study, I focus on eyeglasses, an object imported from the West during the Ming dynasty and which never appeared in any literary work prior to this.Footnote 7 The divergent literary interpretations of this special object shed light on broader cultural concerns in the Qing dynasty, such as the negotiation between Western and Chinese conceptions of materiality, the economic and social pressures encountered by scholars in their everyday lives, and the changing relations between poetic form and the identity of an object.
2. Western import
Eyeglasses were invented in Europe in around the fourteenth century, although there remains some uncertainty about the evidence for this date.Footnote 8 There is no record of the invention of eyeglasses in China, but some argue that it was during the Song dynasty that people first started using eyeglasses, with reference to the old Chinese name aidai 靉靆 (literally, thick clouds blocking the sunshine), based on a passage in a book written by Zhao Xigu 趙希鵠 (fl. c. 1231) in around 1240. However, Joseph Needham (1900–95) pointed out the improbability of this supposition, and it is commonly accepted that eyeglasses were a foreign import that arrived in China around the fifteenth century.Footnote 9
In miscellaneous accounts by Ming and Qing scholars, there has always been confusion surrounding the precise origin of imported eyeglasses. The first frequently mentioned origin is the Arabic world, which is referred to as Tianfang Country (Tianfang guo 天方國) in traditional texts. The Ming scholar Lu Yingyang 陸應陽 (1542–1627) pointed out that one of the local products of the Arabic world is eyeglasses, and there were tribute-missions coming to the Ming court around the early fifteenth century via the Silk Road, which probably carried eyeglasses.Footnote 10 Since the old Chinese name for eyeglasses was aidai, probably a translation of the Arabic word “al-unwaināt” (literally, small eyes) or the Persian word “ainak” (sing.), the Arabic world could be the origin of imported eyeglasses.Footnote 11 However, most Ming and Qing scholars were unable to distinguish between different countries of the West, and they simply regarded eyeglasses as being from the Western Regions (Xiyu 西域).Footnote 12
The second possible origin is Malacca, referred to as Manlajia 滿剌加 or Manla Country (Manla guo 滿剌國) in traditional texts. Eyeglasses were transported from Malacca to China by sea in the sixteenth century, but there is no proof that Malacca manufactured eyeglasses during that time; eyeglasses in Malacca were probably European productions that had been imported.Footnote 13 Nevertheless, since eyeglasses were transported to China by sea via the Maritime Silk Road, they were commonly described as “eyeglasses from the Western Oceans” (Xiyang yanjing 西洋眼鏡) among the literati in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
In addition to these two possibilities, there are further assumptions about from when and where eyeglasses came. For example, a Qing scholar Wu Mingdao 吳銘道 (1671–1738) claimed that Matteo Ricci (1552–1610) brought eyeglasses to China during the Wanli reign (1573–1620),Footnote 14 but this idea is neither supported by any textual evidence nor verified in modern scholarship.Footnote 15 As for the Ming–Qing literary elite, the precise origin of eyeglasses probably did not matter to them as long as it was the West.
Imported eyeglasses were extremely expensive following their early arrival in the mid-Ming period – a pair was even worth a fine horse.Footnote 16 Lang Ying 郎瑛 (1487–1566) mentioned that eyeglasses were seen as a treasure in the late fifteenth century and only a “lord” (guiren 貴人) could afford them:
When I was young, I heard that a lord had eyeglasses. When he was old, he read books [through them], and small characters were shown larger in size. [Eyeglasses] are from the western seas, foreigners had them made and brought them to China, where [eyeglasses] became the treasure of the age.
少嘗聞貴人有眼鏡, 老年觀書, 小字看大。岀西海中, 虜人得而製之, 以遺中國, 為世寳也。Footnote 17
Composed by Wu Kuan 吳寬 (1435–1504)Footnote 18 and entitled “Expressing my thanks to Lord Tu for his gift of eyeglasses from the western regions” (Xie Tugong song Xiyu yanjing 謝屠公送西域眼鏡), this long poem is the first known piece on imported eyeglasses, which also mentions the high value and Western origin of eyeglasses. Furthermore, it pays special attention to praising the pragmatic function of eyeglasses in the following lines:
Because imported eyeglasses were useful to scholars but so rare at that time, three attributes were commonly specified in literary composition: “foreignness”, “expensiveness” and “usefulness”. For another example from a later period, when Bian Ruyuan 邊汝元 (1653–1715), a poor scholar who failed the imperial examination several times, received a pair from a certain Lord Xin 信公 (Family name Pang 龐, details unknown), his excitement drove him to write the following poem:
Bian Ruyuan includes the keywords “western oceans” (Xiyang 西洋) and “a fine treasure” (Jiazhen 佳珍), which indicate the attributes of “foreignness” and “expensiveness” respectively, in the fifth and seventh lines, and further expresses his excitement about the “usefulness” in the sixth and seventh couplets: he can read as quickly as riding a fine horse and as much as he wants by wearing eyeglasses. Although Bian uses the term “grieving the autumn” (beiqiu 悲秋) in the final couplet, it does not suggest any sadness at all – this is a rhetorical tactic intended to emphasize the contradictory emotions he has presented, which taken together represent a positive response to the third attribute of eyeglasses.
Nevertheless, not all literati in the Ming and Qing periods could afford or receive imported eyeglasses; most of them used eyeglasses manufactured in China. The materiality of domestic eyeglasses, however, was different from that of the imported ones. When Chinese craftsmen started making eyeglasses in the regions of Guangdong and Fujian around the sixteenth century, they tended to use crystal for the lenses instead of glass. This is probably because the Chinese glass-making technique had its limits in reaching clarity, but the crystal-carving technique was mature.Footnote 25
During the Qing dynasty, at least three different materials were used for making lenses simultaneously: imported Western glass, which is relatively rare and expensive; Chinese glass, which is very cheap but opaque; and crystal, which is probably the most popular material but the price fluctuated owing to the difference between crystals. As workshops on eyeglasses gradually spread across many regions of China, the price of domestic pairs dropped; by the seventeenth century even some common scholars could afford a pair.Footnote 26 For example, a detailed account by Ye Mengzhu 葉夢珠 (c. 1624–c. 1688) records the Chinese manufacture and price drop during the early Qing period:
Eyeglasses – in my youth I occasionally saw old people using them, but I do not know their price; later I have heard that the best [eyeglasses] are made from the western oceans, each pair is worth four or five taels of silver; using glass for the lenses and elephant hide for the frame, and [eyeglasses] cannot be acquired by someone who is not powerful (or rich) enough. Since the Shunzhi period (1643–61), the price gradually dropped, and each pair was worth five to six maces.Footnote 27 Recently, many people in Su[zhou] and Hang[zhou] make them, and sell them all over the place; everyone can get [a pair], and even the most expensive pair costs just seven or eight cents, or four or five cents, or even two or three cents per pair – all can [be used to] clear up one's eyesight, and that is for common usage. However, there is one type [of eyeglasses] from the western oceans, where the lenses are thicker than leather, which [helps] a short-sighted person to see small things clearly – each pair [of this type] is still worth two taels of silver – but if a far-sighted and aged person wears it, he cannot [see things] clearly. This is not sold in the markets yet, but perhaps a few years later, most of the skilled craftsmen will be able to manufacture it, and accordingly, the price will drop day by day.
眼鏡, 余幼時偶見高年者用之, 亦不知其價, 後聞制自西洋者最佳, 每副值銀四、五兩, 以玻璃為質, 象皮為幹, 非大力者不能致也。順治以後, 其價漸賤, 每副值銀不過五、六錢。近來蘇、杭人多製造之, 遍地販賣, 人人可得, 每副值銀最貴者不過七、八分, 甚而四、五分, 直有二、三分一副者, 皆堪明目, 一般用也。惟西洋有一種質厚於皮, 能使近視者秋毫皆晰, 每副尚値銀價二兩, 若遠視而年高者帶之則反不明。市間尚未有販賣者, 恐再更幾年, 此地巧工亦多能製, 價亦日賤耳。Footnote 28
Although the overall price had dropped, there were still different classes of eyeglasses; common scholars in the early Qing period could probably afford the low-quality ones, because the high-quality ones were much more expensive. Sun Chengze 孫承澤 (1593–1676) notes that materials used for making lenses normally determined the price:
When eyeglasses first entered China, it was named aidai. One pair of eyeglasses was as expensive as the price of a fine horse. Now, it is about three to five cents [per pair], but merely for [those lenses made] in Shandong with pale white sintered material.Footnote 29 [Lenses made in] glass are expensive; [those made in] crystal are especially expensive. For [a pair with] dark-coloured crystal [lenses], it is worth more than seven to eight taels of silver; but the price is gradually decreasing over time.Footnote 30 [Eyeglasses] really help in reading.
眼鏡初入中國, 名曰靉靆。惟一鏡之貴, 價準匹馬。今則三五分可得, 然不過山東米汁燒料。玻瓈者, 貴矣。水晶尤貴。水晶之墨色者, 貴至七八金餘, 值以漸而減。真讀書之一助也。Footnote 31
In the mid-Qing period, the number of workshops in the capital increased dramatically, as Li Guangting 李光庭 (fl. 1795) notes:
Several decades ago, there were just a few eyeglasses workshops at Liulichang, but today the number is many times over.
數十年前，琉璃廠眼鏡鋪不過數家，今則不啻倍蓰矣。Footnote 32
Eyeglasses were also made in workshops located in the Qing imperial court for emperors or as gifts to officials.Footnote 33 Eventually, by the late Qing, eyeglasses, even the high-quality ones, had become less expensive. Chen Kangqi 陳康祺 (1840–90), for example, wrote:
Nowadays, crystal eyeglasses are all over the empire, and even traders from marketplaces use them. This object became popular in the early period of the dynasty, when it was more precious than pearl or jade.
今水晶眼鏡徧天下，市井駔儈且用之矣。此物興於國初，珍貴逾珠玉。Footnote 34
3. Chinese commodity
Material changes in the manufacturing of lenses led to a price drop, which made eyeglasses more readily available to a wider market of consumers, especially scholars who spent their entire lives reading and writing. At the same time, the three attributes of imported eyeglasses mentioned earlier became diversely weighted in early Qing poems on domestic eyeglasses: “foreignness” was almost erased due to changes in materiality, and “expensiveness” was intermittently omitted as the price of the eyeglasses scholars possessed oscillated with no fixed measure, again a derivative result of the changes in the materials of the glasses. The only constant attribute was “usefulness”.
There is no need to emphasize how scholars clearly recognized the benefits of wearing eyeglasses, as Bian Ruyuan's passion, revealed in the previous example, already speaks of the strong tie between this object and the improvement in scholars' lives. On the other hand, the loss of eyeglasses could be damaging. Jing Meiyi 井眉一 (details unknown) even composed a series of three quatrains expressing his regret when he lost a pair of “eyeglasses with dark lenses” (mojing yanjing 墨精眼鏡), which must have been very expensive. His poems have, it seems, vanished over the course of time, but two series of matching poems, six quatrains in total, written by his friend Ji Maiyi 紀邁宜 (1678–?) survive, and the second piece contains a rhetorical joke about the loss:
Ji Maiyi's interpretation of the loss of the eyeglasses is novel and comic, as he suggests that the thief is worried about Jing Maiyi's age and has to prevent Jing from becoming fatigued from reading books by taking his eyeglasses away. A noteworthy conceit within the text is the link between a scholar's age, the decline reading ability, and the assistance from eyeglasses, which Bian Ruyuan stated more directly in his poem: “The eyeglasses restored my eye-vision as I returned to my youth”.
Eyeglasses could restore the eyesight of an aged scholar and allow him to read as if in his youth – this connection between eyeglasses and an aged scholar reflects the attribute of “usefulness”, and eyeglasses are interpreted as an extension of one's scholarly life. Although it is difficult to determine when exactly this interpretation was formed in literary composition, eyeglasses were indeed praised in poetry as vital assistance for an aged scholar during the Ming–Qing transitional period. Qian Chengzhi 錢澄之 (1612–93), who once served at the Hanlin Academy of the Yongli 永曆 court of the Southern Ming (1646–62), composed “Poems on four friends” (Siyou shi 四友詩), probably after the age of fifty, in which he personified a bamboo cane (zhuzhang 竹杖), medicinal wine (yaojiu 藥酒) and a foot-stove (jiaolu 脚爐) alongside eyeglasses.Footnote 36 Another scholar, Tao Ji 陶季 (fl. c. 1661), who had no official title during the early Qing, wrote “Four pieces on acquiring friends” (Deyou sishou 得友四首), which personified and prioritized eyeglasses as his first friend, followed by a spittoon (tuohu 唾壺), a back-scratcher (beisao 背搔), and a cane (guazhang 挂杖).Footnote 37 Although one might encounter different health problems when getting old, canes and eyeglasses seem to have become indispensable companions for aged scholars.
Alongside the interpretation of life-extension, there are special interpretations which also evolved from “usefulness” in a courtly context, where Emperor Kangxi 康熙 (1654–1722, r. 1662–1722) played a substantial role. Although there is no mention of eyeglasses in his literary works, other texts show that the emperor did not only wear eyeglasses, but was also fond of granting eyeglasses to his officials. For example, Song Luo 宋犖 (1634–1714) recorded an event in 1703 in his self-written life-chronicle (nianpu 年譜):
Yesterday I requested eyeglasses; today Wushi [name of an imperial bodyguard] brought out a pair of eyeglasses with a green frame, granted it to me and said, “This is the emperor's reserve pair. If this is no good, you will be granted with the pair which the emperor is wearing now”.
臣昨曾求眼鏡，今五十捧出緑端玻瓈眼鏡一枚，竝賜臣云：「上以偹用者。不佳，即以上所現佩者賜爾。」Footnote 38
Emperor Kangxi seemed to care about the vision of his subject-officials, and the famous poet Wang Shizhen 王士禛 (1634–1711) was asked at the imperial court to try wearing a pair when he was 66 years old.Footnote 39 More interestingly, the emperor sometimes encouraged and insisted that his subjects should wear eyeglasses, and even those who were not willing to. Zhang Taijiao 張泰交 (1651–1706) recorded such a dialogue between himself and the emperor in 1705:
I was summoned on the tenth day [of the fourth month]. The emperor asked, “Governor, are your eyes healed?” I responded, “No, I cannot bear the heat of the south. In autumn last year [my vision] became even more blurred. These two days when Your Majesty came, I feel slightly better”. The emperor said, “Why don't you use eyeglasses?” I responded, “My eyes are ill, it's not that I have presbyopia. If I use eyeglasses, there is just one more layer of obstacle”. The emperor said, “Once you try the right [ones], it will be fine”.
初十日, 召見。上問：「廵撫眼好了麽？」奏：「不好，受不得南方熱。去歲入秋更昏。這兩日皇上來, 還覺稍好。」上云：「何不用眼鏡？」奏：
「臣是病眼, 不是老眼, 用眼鏡反多一番障蔽。」上云: 「爾去試對了便好。」Footnote 40
Receiving eyeglasses from Emperor Kangxi was seen by many scholar-officials as a significant event during their service to the imperial court. Some, as shown above, recorded the event in their own biographies or chronicles, and some composed poetry on the bestowed eyeglasses as a grateful reply to the emperor. Zha Shenxing 查愼行 (1650–1727), an eminent scholar of the Zhejiang region, composed two poems after he was granted a pair of eyeglasses; the first one reads:
The first line explains the topic “eyeglasses” and the second outlines its “usefulness”, while the second and third couplets are extensions to these two lines, respectively. The poet's self-expression and response to Kangxi can be found in the last two lines, where the link between eyeglasses and life-extension is identical. Furthermore, wearing eyeglasses not only allows the poet to continue to write in small-size characters, but also to remain in officialdom (the third couplet). Eyeglasses thus extended both Zha Shenxing's life as a scholar and his official career at the imperial court. Moreover, because the eyeglasses were bestowed by the emperor, they can also be seen as a symbol of the emperor's encouragement and approval. Therefore, eyeglasses carry meanings both of life-extension and imperial acknowledgement of the scholar's service.
In general, scholars of the seventeenth century erased the attributes of “foreignness” and “expensiveness” from their poems on eyeglasses, fundamentally due to the change of materiality, but the attribute of “usefulness” remained and developed into different literary interpretations. Nevertheless, there is still a limit to the literary complexity of this particular object, because the pragmatic benefits of wearing eyeglasses are too obvious and strong, such that scholars could hardly present any arguments against them – not until the next century.
4. Negative attitudes
In the eighteenth century, eyeglasses were widely in use among the literati because of mass production and a significant drop in price. Eyeglasses became the topic of many yongwu poems, and Emperor Qianlong 乾隆 (1711–99, r. 1736–95) even brought them into a courtly event. In the 56th year of the Qianlong reign (1791), the emperor held an examination for officials at the Hanlin Academy (Hanlin yuan 翰林院) and the Household Administration of the Heir Apparent (Zhanshi fu 詹事府), at which he chose “Eyeglasses” (yanjing 眼鏡) as the topic for the poetry section of the examination, and proudly announced: “although I am eighty I do not use them” (sui baxun bingyong 雖八旬屏用) in a poem he composed soon after the examination.Footnote 42
This examination was divided into three sections: Poetry, Rhapsody (fu 賦), and Commentary (shu 疏). According to the Qing shilu 清實錄 (Veritable Records of the Qing Dynasty), 96 officials participated in the examination. This resulted in one failure, eight were graded fourth class, 74 third class, 11 second class, and only Ruan Yuan 阮元 (1764–1849) and Wu Xinglan 吳省蘭 (?–1810) achieved first class.Footnote 43 Ruan Yuan, who later became an influential scholar and official at the imperial court, was promoted mainly because his essays were greatly appreciated by Emperor Qianlong;Footnote 44 but there was an interesting rumour about Ruan Yuan's success in this examination:
When Ruan Yuan first entered the Hanlin Academy, Hešen (1750–99) was the Chancellor. One day, the [Qianlong] emperor casually said to [He]šen, “The alternative name for eyeglasses is ‘aidai’, I only know it recently”. [He]šen left [the court], told [Ruan] Yuan, and said, “The emperor does not wear these”. Soon there was the General Examination, the topic for poetry was “aidai”, and only [Ruan] Yuan's composition was excellent. The emperor appreciated it, and promoted [Ruan Yuan] to the first grade. In less than a few years [Ruan Yuan] was positioned among the top but relatively non-demanding official posts.
阮元初入翰林時, 和珅為掌院學士。一日, 上從容謂珅曰：「眼鏡別名靉靆, 近始知之。」珅退以語元, 且曰：「上不御此也。」未幾大考, 詩題即《靉靆》, 元詩獨工, 上歎賞, 拔置第一, 不數年遂躋清要。Footnote 45
Regardless of the authenticity of the story, Ruan Yuan's poem was indeed excellently composed, especially in the way he flattered the emperor:
The first two couplets respond to the assigned topic “Eyeglasses”, and the following four couplets describe this object through narration and metaphor. The seventh couplet turns the subject from eyeglasses to the one who does not wear them, which leads to a presentational shift, the tactful flattery to the emperor, in the last couplet: if one does not wear eyeglasses, his vision would indeed be blurry; but the one who has double-eyeballs does not need to wear them. Since the ancient sage-king Shun 舜 is known to have double-eyeballs in both eyes, Ruan Yuan compares Qianlong to Shun, and suggests that the reason Qianlong does not wear eyeglasses is because he is a sage ruler.
The poem by the other first-graded participator, Wu Xinglan, does not survive, but the piece written by Liu Fenggao 劉鳳誥 (1760–1830), a single-eyed talent who succeeded in the second grade in the same examination, is presented here as a comparison to the piece by Ruan Yuan:Footnote 48
Reading this poem alongside the one composed by Ruan Yuan, we find some of the candidates' common considerations in these two examination pieces. Mentioning aidai and the Western origin in both poems is to demonstrate the candidates' knowledge, and we can assume that those who did not know this alternative name or the origin of eyeglasses would be graded lower. It is also essential that aidai should be placed within the first two couplets as a direct response to the topic. In the middle section, candidates need to demonstrate their ability to apply narration and metaphor; but these are basic skills for well-educated scholars, and it is sometimes extremely difficult to distinguish levels of skill in this respect. Therefore, the final part is the key to winning the competition – at this point, candidates should turn to praise of the emperor as their self-expression. Here, Liu's closing lines do not logically follow from the previous lines, as he jumps abruptly from praise of the “usefulness” of eyeglasses to praise of the emperor's power.Footnote 53 In a more sophisticated fashion, Ruan Yuan presents a common fact in the previous lines, and soon points out that the fact does not apply to the emperor, in order to conclude and praise the extraordinariness of Qianlong.
Since Qianlong did not wear eyeglasses in his old age, both Liu and Ruan must mention the “uselessness” of eyeglasses to the emperor in their poems as customary flattery to the emperor. However, they could not really deny the “usefulness” of eyeglasses, and it was also a requirement to praise eyeglasses through narration and metaphor in this examination context, so they had to present a metaphysical argument to solve the dilemma of praising eyeglasses and flattering the emperor. This is why Liu Fenggao argues that “[Qianlong's] brightness is because he amends himself, / and he does not rely on aidai”, and Ruan Yuan claims that “the one (Qianlong) who has double-eyeballs, he relies on nothing else”.
After the examination, Emperor Qianlong confirmed his negative attitude towards eyeglasses in a poem he composed under the same title, in which he also mentioned a metaphysical reason for avoiding eyeglasses:
The first five couplets describe eyeglasses, with the poet acknowledging the “usefulness” in the sixth line. The sixth couplet is a watershed which shifts the focus to the negative side of wearing eyeglasses: if one wants to see things clearly, one should not rely on anything else but one's own vision; because eyeglasses are placed in between the eyes and the object for observation, it is unavoidable that the eyes are covered, or deceived, by eyeglasses. This interpretation represents the emperor's concern with being a ruler of the empire – the ruler, in theory, should always be direct when dealing with matters in order to prevent being deceived.
The same interpretation also appeared in other poems on eyeglasses by Emperor Qianlong. Before the composition of the above poem in 1791, when the emperor was 64 years old (1775), he claimed that he did not like eyeglasses, and: “If one relies on those (eyeglasses) to achieve brightness, / the brightness has already been obscured (deceived)” (賴彼做斯明, 斯明已有蔽).Footnote 57 When the emperor reached 87 (in 1798), he composed a quatrain entitled “Joking on eyeglasses” (Xiti yanjing 戲題眼鏡) to clarify his position against wearing them:
In this poem, as a joke, the emperor completely abandoned the “usefulness” of eyeglasses and devoted himself to the metaphysical argument. Being against wearing eyeglasses was unusual among the literary elite at that time, since the second line indicates that many subject-officials at the imperial court were using eyeglasses and, in contrast to the Kangxi reign, they were even offered to the emperor as tribute. Nevertheless, the metaphysical denial towards eyeglasses is a new interpretation found especially in courtly compositions during the late Qianlong period, all because of the emperor's personal aversion to eyeglasses.
The negative attitude in Emperor Qianlong's poetry was never pragmatic, as he also understood the benefits that eyeglasses could bring to a person who frequently reads. Although he insisted on his metaphysical opposition, this is presumably nothing more than an excuse. The pragmatic reason for not wearing eyeglasses has never been clarified in Qianlong's compositions, except for a clue found in the following two lines that appeared in 1781 when he was seventy:
The emperor's concern is that once he uses eyeglasses he would have to rely on them forever, thus he decides to cast them aside in the first place. However, if he had had the chance to read Yuan Mei's 袁枚 (1716–97) poems on eyeglasses, discussed below, his concern would probably be allayed.
Yuan Mei is generally acknowledged as one of the most talented and popular poets of the eighteenth century, an extreme opposite example to Emperor Qianlong who is commonly regarded as the worst poet in all of Chinese literary history, and Yuan Mei's literary thought and practice show his agenda of achieving uniqueness in composing poetry.Footnote 60 In this particular case of poetry on eyeglasses, Yuan Mei also argued the “uselessness” in a piece written in 1765, ten years before Qianlong's first piece:
Yuan Mei was 49 when he composed this poem, and he did not need to wear eyeglasses at that time. His disapproval of wearing eyeglasses in the first two couplets is similar to that of Emperor Qianlong, as he too disliked the idea of eyes being covered by lenses. But the third line suggests, more practically, that Yuan Mei did not like the feeling of wearing something extra on his face, and this idea is repeated in a poem he composed 30 years later, discussed below. The final couplet is, however, a joke. By saying “If [King] Yan of Xu had not lost his state [and perished], / then [being short-sighted], he would have detested looking through [eyeglasses]”, Yuan Mei implies that it was lucky that King Yan of Xu lost his kingdom and died, because he would have hated wearing eyeglasses, like Yuan Mei, since he was short-sighted.
The annotation Yuan Mei added after this couplet is to prove that King Yan of Xu was short-sighted. Yuan believed that the character yan 焉 means “a small bird” and the term zhanyan 瞻焉 (to gaze upon a small bird) indicates short-sightedness.Footnote 63 However, there is a debate over the interpretation of the quoted classical text. According to Xunzi 荀子, King Yan of Xu was an ugly person, so the term zhanyan is generally understood as “to see one's forehead” because it describes the King's ugliness; but this term may suggest short-sightedness under a different interpretation.Footnote 64 Yuan's motive for writing such a couplet was to make a joke on the discomfort of wearing eyeglasses; it is also possible that, considering Yuan Mei's personality, he noted his understanding of the line in Xunzi in order to show off his knowledge, although his claim on the King's short-sightedness is still debatable.Footnote 65
Like Emperor Qianlong, Yuan Mei wrote more than one poem on eyeglasses; but unlike Qianlong's consistent disfavour, his attitude towards this object shifted twice during his later years. The first shift happened only three years after he composed the previous poem against wearing eyeglasses:
Returning to the cliché of praising the “usefulness” of eyeglasses, Yuan Mei acknowledges the benefit of wearing eyeglasses in the first six lines, and the last two lines contain a passionate expression of his gratitude to eyeglasses as an intimate friend through personification. However, a dramatic second shift in Yuan's attitude to wearing eyeglasses is found in 1796, one year before his death:
This poem would probably release Emperor Qianlong from the concern that “Once I use them, I cannot give them up; / [Once I] give them up, I will become dim-sighted”. Perhaps in Yuan Mei's old age, his short-sightedness improved, but one can leave this for ophthalmologists. In comparison with Yuan Mei's first or second poem, his feeling about eyeglasses in this poem is much more complex – it is neither strong disapproval nor enthusiastic praise. Yuan does not discredit the “usefulness” of eyeglasses although he feels happy that there will be no more burdens on his face, and he also shows his gratitude towards eyeglasses, again, through personification in the second couplet. A subtle interpretation appears in the third couplet, where Yuan uses a perceptional explanation for the late improvement of his eyesight, which enriches this poem with a taste of philosophical reasoning.
When both Qianlong and Yuan Mei denied or twisted the “usefulness” of eyeglasses, it demonstrates that the literati had been freed from the conventional way of recognizing eyeglasses merely as an object, which improves their living conditions or extends their scholarly life, and considered how this object could possibly be interpreted beyond its pragmatic attributes in a broader context. The courtly approach, initiated by Qianlong and echoed by his subject-officials, is political and metaphysical, whereas Yuan Mei's approach evokes literary complexity. The general interest in eyeglasses shifted away from pragmatism, and more poets regarded eyeglasses as a device for enriching their literary activities, especially when eyeglasses were introduced into a very special genre: “linked verse” (lianju 聯句).
In the late summer of 1765, the year Yuan Mei satirized eyeglasses, Qian Weicheng 錢維城 (literary name Chashan 茶山, 1720–72),Footnote 68 a scholar Wu 吳 (literary name Quanzi 泉子, details unknown), Qian Weiqiao 錢維喬 (literary name Shucan 樹參, 1739–1806),Footnote 69 and a son-in-law of Qian Weicheng (literary name Qiaoying 翹英, details unknown) gathered together. They chose eyeglasses as the topic for their linked verse, and composed, in turns, 48 pentasyllabic lines, in the form of extended regulated verse (pailü 排律).Footnote 70
As the most senior participant, Qian Weicheng composed the first three lines of this linked verse. Scholar Wu wrote two lines afterwards, where the first of these two lines should match Qian Weicheng's third line to make a parallel couplet. Qian Weiqiao then wrote two lines after Wu, and his first line matches the second line of Wu. The son-in-law was the last one to compose due to his junior position, and his two lines also follow the same rule for parallelism. After completing this round, Qian Weicheng continued to write two lines as the beginning of a new round, and the other poets proceeded with what they did in the first round. Four more rounds were completed in the same sequence. But in the last round, the son-in-law was not involved, and Qian Weicheng composed a single line, after Wu's two lines, to end the poem sequence.
This joint composition of linked verse mainly focuses on the individual's mastery of literary diction, because each poet should compose a matching line to the previous line written by another poet in order to make a perfect parallel couplet (except for the first and last couplets). The content of this linked verse is, however, prosaic. Descriptions, metaphors and allusions for eyeglasses are skilfully presented to praise eyeglasses from different angles, but neither a clear idea nor an emotive expression can be detected from the traditional perspective of literary quality. This is mainly because each couplet is composed by two different poets (except the first couplet), and consistency of personal expression is the least of one's concern during the writing process. The ultimate purpose of writing linked verse is never to present a poetic interpretation of the chosen topic, but to give a chance and space for poets to demonstrate or exchange intellectual prowess around that topic. Therefore, eyeglasses just happened to be the topic of this particular linked verse. These poets possibly considered “eyeglasses” as an interesting topic for linked verse, but they were more excited about the prospect of writing linked verse together. Nevertheless, this poem is still a sign that eyeglasses were no longer seen as a merely pragmatic object for the literati, and scholars discovered more meanings from this object that they had been writing about for more than two centuries.
5. Object identity
It is very common that one sees eyeglasses of the Qing dynasty simply as “foreign” objects. However, this view is perhaps not accurate enough, since not all eyeglasses of the Qing dynasty were imported, or made from imported materials, and most of them were in fact manufactured by Chinese craftsmen using Chinese materials, even at the imperial court.Footnote 71 Although eyeglasses were invented in the West and the techniques for making them were likewise learned from Westerners, the Chinese literati of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries seldom labelled their own eyeglasses with the attribute of “foreignness” in their poetry unless the eyeglasses they wrote about were indeed imported.
However, in the nineteenth century, with a much more open reception of Western material culture, imported eyeglasses, or eyeglasses with imported materials, re-entered the sight of the literati, when the attributes of “foreignness” and “expensiveness” reappeared in some of their works. For example, the following two poems are found in the “Shishang” 時尚 (Fashion) section in the Chaoshi congzai 朝市叢載 (Records of the Court and Marketplace), a travel guide to Beijing city, by Yang Jingting 楊静亭 (fl. c. 1845) and Li Hongruo 李虹若 (fl. c. 1888):
Written in the style of “doggerel” (dayoushi 打油詩), both poems satirize those who wear eyeglasses. The first poem suggests that the person wearing eyeglasses is uneducated and probably rich enough to follow fashion; eyeglasses are a symbol of being educated. Considering those traditional interpretations for eyeglasses, either as a useful tool for a scholar or as a friend of an old man, this poem draws an equal mark between eyeglasses and an educated person – eyeglasses represent the identity of the literati. The second poem is more direct in satirizing rich people who wear expensive eyeglasses: eyeglasses become a luxury of the rich who wear them ostentatiously. Moreover, both poems imply that these rich people do not appreciate the “usefulness” of eyeglasses and wear them where it is unnecessary – not in a study, but on the street. Notwithstanding the two poems which state some simple facts of the time, between the lines a slight feeling of the poet's jealousy can still be sensed.
When materiality changed once again and the attributes of “foreignness” and “expensiveness” were reintroduced to the interpretations of imported eyeglasses, scholars relinquished their privilege of having eyeglasses as their unique signature because this object became a luxury for the rich as it was in the mid-Ming period. On the other hand, the cheap price and mass production of domestic eyeglasses also broke the strong tie between scholars and eyeglasses, because the price became so cheap that even merchants, who were traditionally perceived as being at the bottom of the social scale,Footnote 74 were using eyeglasses in the nineteenth century – as Chen Kangqi described it with contempt, “even traders from marketplaces use them”.Footnote 75 This is the time when the use of eyeglasses expanded beyond scholars' lives, and the literati made their last effort to equate the identity of eyeglasses and themselves through their writings, so as to reclaim that privilege, but in a rather forced and ironic way.
6. Conclusion
This paper has examined the way in which eyeglasses were depicted in classical poetry, as well as offering more general observations on the material development of eyeglasses in late imperial China. In the fifteenth century, when imported eyeglasses were first introduced to the literati, this Western object was treasured and its attributes of “foreignness”, “expensiveness” and “usefulness” were emphasized in poetry. Soon, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when domestic eyeglasses dominated the market and the overall price drop made eyeglasses available to more scholars, the literary reception concentrated mainly on the pragmatic benefits that eyeglasses brought to scholars' lives. Nevertheless, as a topic for composing poetry, eyeglasses were given more complex interpretations in the further literary development in the eighteenth century, and the literati even tried to argue against the “usefulness” of eyeglasses through different approaches. Eventually, a late change of materiality in the nineteenth century led to a destruction of the unique bond between scholars and eyeglasses, and yet scholars tried to restore this unique bond by assigning a scholarly identity to eyeglasses.
As a case study of Qing dynasty yongwu poetry with a focus on the object, this paper demonstrates a shifting process where the literati consistently endow the object with renewed interpretations, and the diversity of these interpretations often results from the engagements with material change, economic configuration, courtly obligation, literary complexity, social intercourse and the cultural life of the literati. Nevertheless, this paper attempts neither to deny nor to alter the lyrical essence of yongwu poetry; it suggests an alternative way of studying yongwu poetry and ponders why the activity of composing yongwu poetry could flourish during the Qing period from an object-oriented perspective.
