RAF
06-18-2002, 06:32 PM
Ignorance, Legend and Taijiquan
by
Stanley Henning
As one who has floated on the periphery of the martial arts community since I studied Yang-style Taijiquan in Taiwan back in 1970, I relish this opportunity to come forward and "toss some bricks to entice some jade," and I am particularly pleased that my "reappearance" can at last take place on the pages of a serious journal dedicated to high standards in Chinese martial arts research. This could not have happened even in the most recent past, and it is still an exception to the norm as we approach the 21st century!
It was precisely because of the appalling state of ignorance I observed surrounding the history of Chinese martial arts that I first published an article titled, "The Chinese Martial Arts in Historical Perspective," in the December 1981 issue of Military Affairs (now Journal of Military History). I selected a scholarly journal to". . . . hopefully extract them [the Chinese martial arts] from the realm of myth and pave the way for placing them in the realm of reputable historical research."[1] I selected a journal on military history to emphasize the fact (not opinion) that the origins of the Chinese martial arts, including boxing, are rooted in military (not religious) practice.
Now, 13 years later, I notice that ignorance still appears to be the rule rather than the exception. Why is this?! After reading Paul Crompton's The Art of T'ai Chi (Rockport, MA: Element, Inc. 1993), I realized that at least part of the reason for this state of affairs is because the phrase "ignorance is bliss" is not merely a saying but a fact for some people. After admitting that the Zhang Sanfeng story is probably myth, Crompton says that, "True or not, the very existence of the legends tends to elevate T'ai Chi and make it something to be striven for."[2] Now, isn't that a meaningful endorsement! In other words, the prestige of Taijiquan rises with hot air!
I feel reasonably confident that subscribers to this journal are not striving for Taiji based merely on the existence of legends, as Crompton describes, but that they might be interested in learning the facts and possible motives behind the legends associated with Taijiquan. To do so, however, requires one to view the subject from two levels of thought, one from a martial arts perspective and one from the broader social milieu in which the martial arts are but one element.
Actually, the Zhang Sanfeng legend can be viewed as having three phases: phase I (prior to 1669) merely claims that Zhang was a Taoist immortal; phase II (after 1669) claims that Zhang originated the "internal" school of boxing; and phase III (post 1900) claims that Zhang originated Taijiquan.
The Zhang Sanfeng legend evolved during the Ming period (1368-1644), based on the close association of early Ming rulers with Taoism and Taoist priests, whose prophesies had supported the founder of the dynasty. Little is known about Zhang except that he is described as an eccentric, itinerant hermit with magic powers, who died once but came back to life, and whose life, based on varying accounts, spanned a period of over 300 years. Emperor Chengzu (1423-1404) spent considerable funds to reconstruct war-torn monasteries on Mount Wudang, Zhang's favorite haunt, and it is said that a 13 year search he initiated to find Zhang was actually part of an elaborate cover story for a more urgent effort to located Emperor Jianwen, the victim of a coup staged by Chengzu. Neither Emperor Jianwen or Zhang were ever found, but finally, in a move which Paul Crompton would no doubt applaud, Emperor Yingzong canonized the elusive Zhang in 1459. Throughout this formative phase of the Zhang Sanfeng legend there is no mention of Zhang's involvement with martial arts.[3] This lack of comment is significant as it was common practice to include this type of information in dynastic history biographies.
by
Stanley Henning
As one who has floated on the periphery of the martial arts community since I studied Yang-style Taijiquan in Taiwan back in 1970, I relish this opportunity to come forward and "toss some bricks to entice some jade," and I am particularly pleased that my "reappearance" can at last take place on the pages of a serious journal dedicated to high standards in Chinese martial arts research. This could not have happened even in the most recent past, and it is still an exception to the norm as we approach the 21st century!
It was precisely because of the appalling state of ignorance I observed surrounding the history of Chinese martial arts that I first published an article titled, "The Chinese Martial Arts in Historical Perspective," in the December 1981 issue of Military Affairs (now Journal of Military History). I selected a scholarly journal to". . . . hopefully extract them [the Chinese martial arts] from the realm of myth and pave the way for placing them in the realm of reputable historical research."[1] I selected a journal on military history to emphasize the fact (not opinion) that the origins of the Chinese martial arts, including boxing, are rooted in military (not religious) practice.
Now, 13 years later, I notice that ignorance still appears to be the rule rather than the exception. Why is this?! After reading Paul Crompton's The Art of T'ai Chi (Rockport, MA: Element, Inc. 1993), I realized that at least part of the reason for this state of affairs is because the phrase "ignorance is bliss" is not merely a saying but a fact for some people. After admitting that the Zhang Sanfeng story is probably myth, Crompton says that, "True or not, the very existence of the legends tends to elevate T'ai Chi and make it something to be striven for."[2] Now, isn't that a meaningful endorsement! In other words, the prestige of Taijiquan rises with hot air!
I feel reasonably confident that subscribers to this journal are not striving for Taiji based merely on the existence of legends, as Crompton describes, but that they might be interested in learning the facts and possible motives behind the legends associated with Taijiquan. To do so, however, requires one to view the subject from two levels of thought, one from a martial arts perspective and one from the broader social milieu in which the martial arts are but one element.
Actually, the Zhang Sanfeng legend can be viewed as having three phases: phase I (prior to 1669) merely claims that Zhang was a Taoist immortal; phase II (after 1669) claims that Zhang originated the "internal" school of boxing; and phase III (post 1900) claims that Zhang originated Taijiquan.
The Zhang Sanfeng legend evolved during the Ming period (1368-1644), based on the close association of early Ming rulers with Taoism and Taoist priests, whose prophesies had supported the founder of the dynasty. Little is known about Zhang except that he is described as an eccentric, itinerant hermit with magic powers, who died once but came back to life, and whose life, based on varying accounts, spanned a period of over 300 years. Emperor Chengzu (1423-1404) spent considerable funds to reconstruct war-torn monasteries on Mount Wudang, Zhang's favorite haunt, and it is said that a 13 year search he initiated to find Zhang was actually part of an elaborate cover story for a more urgent effort to located Emperor Jianwen, the victim of a coup staged by Chengzu. Neither Emperor Jianwen or Zhang were ever found, but finally, in a move which Paul Crompton would no doubt applaud, Emperor Yingzong canonized the elusive Zhang in 1459. Throughout this formative phase of the Zhang Sanfeng legend there is no mention of Zhang's involvement with martial arts.[3] This lack of comment is significant as it was common practice to include this type of information in dynastic history biographies.