Eagle Shooting Hero

The storylines and dialogue behind Kung Fu movies are generally dreary stuff, Crouching Tiger notwithstanding. So is it a surprise that it all comes from a rich Chinese literary tradition known as wuxia? Perhaps not; the tendency of movies to trample the books they're adapted from is proverbial.

Although lit majors would probably turn up their noses at most wuxia novels, the genre is both highly entertaining and instructive, especially for China expats. Wuxia reinforces the universality of the human psyche. Named from a combination of wu, a term for martial affairs, and xia, which can be translated as "knight errant", these uniquely Chinese sword and sorcery stories prove that a hundred generations of Confucianism cannot extinguish our natural admiration for the rootless adventurer who defies authority.

Even more gratifying, the flowering of wuxia's popularity in the 20^th century and its continuing appeal in novel, comic, movie, even video game form show that modern relativism hasn't diminished the popularity of the hero who would rather die for his principles than live compromised. If that sort of idealistic fluff isn't compelling, consider that wuxia stories have spun out of classic Chinese history a psychological world known as Jiang Hu, a realm of fantasy far richer than the world of Harry Potter and yes, even that of Middle Earth. To read wuxia is to access the Chinese tradition where it intersects with myth and the psyche.

The wuxia is a hero, sometimes heroine, with striking parallels to not just the European knight but also the gunslinger. A wanderer, he balances his enviable individualism with fierce loyalty and sense of duty. The wuxia mold was cast during the Warring States Period (475-221 BCE), when political chaos fragmented the Zhou dynasty warrior class. Knights sworn to the service of a duke or other potentate now wandered about offering their services to the highest bidder. If this sounds derivative of the Samurai legacy, remember that the first shogunate was not established until approximately 1500 years after the Qin Emperor made vassals of the Warring States.

Whatever their origins in history, it is their value system and the quasi-classic world they inhabit that make the wuxia so popular. The religious mores of medieval Europe, the starkness of pioneer life, neither was nearly as constraining as the strictures of proper Confucian conduct, which makes every interaction a matter of ritual, subservience, and propriety. Thus the appeal of the wuxia, who treasured nonconformity and maintained it with fighting prowess. Such a hero wouldn't hesitate to show his contempt for a superior who didn't meet his rigid ethical standards, encapsulated by the wuxia code of brotherhood: chivalry, bravery, virtue, righteousness, and loyalty.

Better yet, it was up to the individual to interpret the code, not society. Many stories involve heroes holding their personal oath to a friend over unspoken yet written-in-stone family obligations. This is not to suggest that wuxia heroes are invariably self-righteous stiffs. Stories are colored by their heroes' foibles and failings. Very often though, as can be attested to by the plot line of a million kung fu flicks, the protagonist suffers a tragedy, particularly the murder of a close family member, and undergoes hardship and trials to pursue revenge, emerge a martial arts hero, and go on to right wrongs wherever he may find them.

Chinese history is certainly rich enough to offer endless palates and canvases on which to paint complex wuxia stories. However, the alternate universe of Jiang Hu adds extra dimensions of possibility. Roughly analogous to the disordered days of the Warring States period, it is a place where the rule of law is tenuous at best, and justice rarely to be hoped for. Bandits, demons, and fairies populate the extensive wilderness between settlements ruled over more often than not by venal mandarins. It is a place where the hero has endless opportunity to prove his mettle, boosted by those surreal roof-jumping powers so often seen in kung fu movies.

Of course it is the authors who deserve the credit for taking these rich cultural resources and weaving them into tales of mortal combat to enthrall adolescents, melodrama for the soap opera fan, and a plethora of cultural references and insights for the Sinophile. While the pioneers of the wuxia genre wrote during the Ming and Qing dynasties, the luminaries of wuxia are Jin Yong, Liang Yusheng, and Gu Long, mid-twentieth century contemporaries whose work not only continues to draw legions of international fans, but also informs the many Chinese wuxia-style TV shows and films still popular today.

Ang Lee and Zhang Yimou are wuxia fans, showing the power of this form to inspire China's most creative souls. We'll let the prose speak for itself; here's an excerpt from Jin Yong's Eagle Shooting Hero.

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That night, when Guo Jing arrived at the summit of the cliff, the Taoist was already there. Seeing the young man, he spoke to him in a low voice and showed him something next to the big rock where they usually trained.

"Look!"

Guo Jing approached and saw in the moonlight the pile of nine skulls. He jumped back. "The ‘Twin Killers of the Dark Winds'!" he said with a trembling voice. "They've come again!"

"You know of the ‘Twin Killers of the Dark Winds'?" the Taoist asked.

The young man told him of the terrifying fights that night, in the course of which his Fifth Shifu lost his life. He also told of how he frantically struck out with his knife and killed Chen Xuanfeng. The visions of that night were so vivid in his mind that he could not stop himself from shivering. When he stabbed ‘Copper Corpse', he was very young, but the terrifying images had been engraved deeply in his memory.

"‘Copper Corpse' caused so much suffering," sighed the Taoist, "yet he died by your hand!"

"My Shifus often speak of the ‘Twin Killers of the Dark Winds'. My Third Shifu and Seventh Shifu say that ‘Iron Corpse' should be dead... But Eldest Shifu always says: ‘Not for sure! Not for sure'! For these nine skulls to be here, ‘Iron Corpse' can't be dead..." He shivered. "Did you see Mei Chaofeng?" he asked.

"I arrived here not long ago," the Taoist answered, "And I immediately noticed this pile of skulls. Has ‘Iron Corpse' come here to take revenge on your Shifus and you?"

"The Eldest Shifu made her blind," Guo Jing said, "we are not afraid of her."

The Taoist took a skull in his hand and carefully examined it. "This person has a kung fu of terrifying power," he said while nodding his head. "I fear that your six Shifus are not strong enough to face her. Even if I lend them some assistance, we still may not defeat her!"

He was so sure of what he was saying, that Guo Jing was stunned. "Ten years ago," he said, "she was not blind and yet she did not succeed in defeating my seven Shifus. Today, we are eight... You... will you help us in this danger or not?"

"I've thought about it for a little while," the Taoist answered after an moment of silence, "but I don't understand how her fingers can be this powerful... As says the proverb: ‘Those that wish you well don't come to find you, those that come to find you don't wish you well'! Since she dares to come to take revenge, she is very sure of her chances."

"What reason did she have for arranging the skulls here? Won't we be extra cautious after seeing them?"

"I imagine that it must be a part of the ritual of practicing the ‘Nine Yin White Bone Claw'... Because it is so difficult to climb, she must think that no one comes to the summit of this cliff. By sheer luck, we stumbled on it!"

Fearing that Mei Chaofeng might already be going to fight his masters, Guo Jing said, "I am going to warn my Shifus."

"Well thought," the Taoist approved. "Tell them that you pass on a message from a good friend; they are to keep themselves aside for a while and take time to find the best solution... There's no reason to face her needlessly."

Guo Jing agreed; but at the very moment he was going to let himself slip down from the cliff, the Taoist grabbed him and jumped behind a large rock where they hid themselves. Guo Jing was going to ask him what was going on when the Taoist put his hand over his mouth. He shrank against the rock, not daring to make a sound, only risking a quick look.

A short time later, a shadow moved up the other side of the cliff. In the moonlight, long hair floated in the wind: it was Mei Chaofeng. The other side of the hill was even steeper than the cliff; because she was blind, she probably wouldn't have noticed the difference. That was a stroke of luck, because the ‘Six Freaks' were hidden on this side. If she had come up here, she would not have failed to meet them, and they would be fighting already!

Mei Chaofeng turned around suddenly; a frightened Guo Jing lowered his head quickly. Then he remembered that she was blind, and he stood up slowly. He saw that she was sitting with her legs crossed on the big rock where he trained every day. Then she began breathing exercises. He now understood that this way of breathing and mastering the breath constituted the practice of the neigong. He felt a sudden appreciation for the Taoist's teaching.

A little later, he heard crackling coming from the body of Mei Chaofeng; at first occasional, then faster and faster, just like when one grills peanuts in a wok and they explode. The noise came from the inside of her body that remained immobile. Guo Jing didn't know that it was a strange and superior form of the neigong, but he was still very impressed.

The crackling lasted for a long time. Then the rhythm slowed until it stopped completely. Guo Jing saw her rise slowly, her left hand took something from her waist that she swung like a long silver snake. Startled at first, he then saw that it was a very long whip.

The Golden Dragon Whip of his Shifu Han Baoju didn't exceed six feet, but this one had to be more than twenty feet long!

She turned around slowly and the light of the moon illuminated a face that still was very pretty. With her long hair and her eyes closed, she seemed sinister and frightening. In the silence, one could hear her sigh and whisper, "My bastard husband, could it be that in the Hell, you also think of me every day?"

Holding her whip by its middle section, she quietly laughed and began to train. This whip seemed to dance in a curious way; the movements were slow and didn't make any noise. She made a stroke to the east, followed by an astounding one to the west; every strike more unbelievable than the last. Suddenly her hand slipped and caught the end of the whip so that all of its length reached a big rock. It wrapped around and raised it, as if it was a hand. Guo Jing was stunned by this. The whip, after flinging the rock far away, moved back towards his head. In the moonlight, he could see distinctly that the end of the whip held about ten very sharp hooks.

Guo Jing was already holding his knife. Seeing the whip coming his way, he was going to avoid the stroke, without even thinking about it. Then he felt his arm go numb and a hand pushed him to the ground. Like silvery lightning, the end of the whip passed above his head. Covered with a cold sweat he thought, "If my Taoist friend had not stopped me in time and my knife touched it, the whip would certainly have smashed my skull!" Fortunately, the Taoist did it efficiently and quietly and Mei Chaofeng didn't notice anything.

She trained for a while, and then replaced the whip at her waist. From her bag she took a piece of cloth or leather that she unfolded and spread on the ground. She touched its surface, thought, then stood up to sketch some movements. She knelt again to feel the thing and to think again. Finally, she put it back in the bag and went away to the other side of the hill.

Guo Jing sighed and stood up.

"We'll follow her," the Taoist said in a low voice. "Let's see what mischievous plan she's preparing for us!" He caught the young man by the belt and the two slowly slipped down from the hill. When they reached bottom, they saw Mei Chaofeng already far away to the north. The Taoist put his arm around Guo Jing who immediately felt a lot lighter and the two of them went at a great speed across the steppe, following ‘Iron Corpse'. As dawn began, they saw a camp of several score large gers far away. Mei Chaofeng's shadow soon disappeared among them.