Closely related to guanxi is face or lack of it. The psychology of face is essentially pride in fragile form, and much maneuvering is employed to keep it intact. In this country especially, it is advisable to remain respectful, making any complaints with decorum, peppered with firmness.
Torn between the poles of compulsion (Taoism) and restraint (Confucianism / communism), the Chinese constantly charm and surprise.
Chinese men can often be soft and women strong-willed, creating an engaging balance. The hard-and-fast barriers between the sexes that can cause discomfort in countries such as Japan hardly exist here. A deep romantic vein runs through society, finding expression in literature, film, and music.
An acute feeling of disorientation, however, brings a giddiness to today’s China. This grand civilization has had its throne snatched by the US and Japan. There is a feeling that the country has lost its way, for the communism that successfully exiled feudalism to the history books bred its own foibles. And the cunning about-face that allowed capitalism to reemerge made those selfless sacrifices of previous generations meaningless. The land is as if without a map; it knows what it has departed but is unsure of the destination.
Economic advancement has become a personal as well as national goal. China now has a “Me” generation with only a dim notion of the relentless frugality of the Mao era.
The government pays lip service to Marxism-Leninism while knowing that its grip on power may depend purely on economic growth. The consequent gulf between ideology and the reality is an ever present fact, the result a stagnant political drama whose occasional change of cast is hobbled by an unchanging, drab script.
The CCP has tried to replace religion with Marxism-Leninism with varying success. Chairman Mao attempted to purge China of superstition with the CR but instead turned himself into a demigod who is still idolized and worshipped in shrines around China. The current bankruptcy of communist theory has left a spiritual vacuum in China that has been filled with a medley of religious beliefs.
Shang dynasty society acknowledged a single leader, who was also a religious figure. Rulers were both military commanders and leaders of community activities, with succession either from brother to brother or from father to son. As this society became increasingly sophisticated, the king delegated more and more tasks to a cadre of officials. Much of the king’s authority derived from ancestors, who were worshipped and consulted in matters relating to affairs of state.
Confucianism is not strictly a religion but a philosophy, and Buddhism was imported from India, leaving Taoism as China’s only true indigenous faith.
Taoism aims to cultivate a philosophical awareness of life. Lacking an anthropomorphic god, it seeks revelation of “the Way” — the term used to describe the dynamism of nature and the operating force behind the universe.
Taoists believe in achievement through inaction (wu Wei), allowing things to develop and occur of their own accord.
The Middle Kingdom was not equipped to deal with the sophistication of the Western model of warfare. The situation could have been saved by modernization of its military and government institutions, but conservative elements in the Qing court blocked the way.
Much traditional Chinese art appeals to Western sensibilities because its aesthetics tend to avoid tension and insist instead on a softness and elegance of touch. The Western preoccupation with forthrightness and realism traditionally never found a home in Chinese art, which instead was more economical, metaphorical, and restrained. Contemplation of landscape art can be liberating and philosophically rewarding, for it reveals a vision of life that is very different from that in the West.
These opposing views resulted in 2 different philosophies. The West saw itself as more apart from nature and sought to dominate it, while the instinctive involvement of the Chinese in nature denied it the empirical, objective tools with which to dissect it. A more passive acceptance of nature meant that the existential conundrums infusing much of Western art found no place in traditional Chinese aesthetics. In Western culture, God is represented in human form. In Chinese philosophy, the Tao is the closest the Chinese come to expressing an overall deity, yet it is formless. Whether concerning landscape painting or the landscape itself, the Tao permeates without revealing itself.
Specific feelings are generally shunned in this style of painting; there is a pervasive mood but not particular message. This lack of focus reflects the Chinese desire to avoid the obvious and the clear-cut. The vaporous mood invites the viewer to enter and encourages him or her to be quiet, creating an unobtrusive and welcoming atmosphere.
Often sacked and rebuilt (even being taken by invading Tibetans in 763), the city has been the national capital of 11 dynasties; its apogee was reached in Tang dynasty China, when it was called Changan.
Flashy displays often belong to those who have lost their way on the road to mastery. The Chinese call those who make a lot of noise “half a bottle of vinegar,” for the insubstantial sloshing sound it makes. True skill in gong can be elusive and difficult to retain, once discovered.