How powerful was the female voice in eighteenth-century China?

 

Many historians have confused the wealth of poetry and dramas written by Chinese women within the literati or Qing courts as powerful, influential sources that highlight the prevalence of women in China. However, it is difficult to discern the extent to which the female voice had any power in China during the eighteenth-century due to the gap in the historical source material. When accounting for the widespread illiteracy in China throughout the eighteenth-century, the lacking record of how peasant women experienced life or acknowledge Confucian morality severely hampers the conclusions that the female voice was powerful in China during this time. The main aim of the essay is to highlight the information often overlooked in popular historiographic discourses that demonstrate how these more socially progressive conclusions fail to account for wider Chinese society. Assessing the implications of popular female writing, the role male sponsors of female writing played within courtesan culture and similar failings in the investigations of historians of Qing China. Ultimately, by critically analysing misguiding methodologies and gaps in their assessment, this essay shall conclude that the female voice was not that powerful in eighteenth-century China. The suppression of the patriarchy in courtesan circles and acknowledging the widespread illiteracy in China at this time are the main factors influencing this conclusion.

 

During the early Qing period, high-ranking male officials began allowing women to become literate in order to more easily perpetuate the neo-Confucian morality that consolidated the patriarchal values underpinning the Qing courtesan system. Therefore, primarily, the increasing literacy rates came from the urban centres of the Qing Empire/court and the women included in this system were tutored by Qing officials, further consolidating the patriarchal, Confucian system.[1]Naquin Weijing Lu contextualises the significance of the rising literacy rates of females and consequent publication of poetry. The new Manchu rulers of mainland China utilised Confucian teachings as a political tool; legitimising their dynasty by normalising court behaviours more broadly into Chinese society.[2] The early Qing courts utilised the jingbiao system they inherited from the Han Ming dynasty to elevate the position of women by rewarding their commitment and embodiment of Confucian ideals.[3] 

 

However, this did not promote the voice of women if we understand it as their experience and commentary of lifestyle during this period. Lu notes how the jingbiao system favoured Manchu over Han women, essentially dismissing a majority of the population and, as most remaining evidence forces historians to analyse women in the upper echelons of Chinese society and not a broader study of all women in eighteenth century China. Thus, Lu fails to appreciate this oversight in their conclusion. In definitively declaring women were “agents of historical change” throughout late imperial China, Lu generalises the attitudes, impact and experience of women living in this time period based solely on surviving evidence from Manchu or courtier women.[4] Evidently, it becomes difficult, given Lu’s assessment to conclude that the jingbiao system empowered the female voice further as, not only did it discriminate against Han and Manchu women, thus favouring Qing court culture but also marginalises potential female voices that would otherwise be promoted, thus diversifying female voice and the discourses therein.

 

Wong Yin Lee, in establishing the broader context to their investigation, notes how the education, ergo literacy, of Chinese women had not been invested in prior to the First Sino-Japanese War.[5] Drastic changes to the way female literacy was encouraged came almost a century after the protests of Li Ji and Yuan Mei. Especially with figures such as Yuan Mei, female literacy and literature was not endorsed or encouraged because they believed in social reformation of the position of women or anything that modern scholars would understand as progressive feminism, but because it enabled them to reign in what women could write about, make sure it was pertinent to either Confucian morals or because it facilitate their own rising popularity.[6] J.D. Schmidt notes how women connected with these male sponsors like Yuan Mei were more likely to re-focus on Confucian morality that explicitly or implicitly publishing socio-political commentary via poetry or other literature.[7] 

 

While Schmidt indicates that there was a rise in the number of female authors, many of these authors specialised in poetry, voicing their experience in the changing female discourse from learning about to rebelling against the Confucian values they were supposed to be committed to. In highlighting this, Schmidt demonstrates how the attempts of the prevailing patriarchal rulers of China throughout the eighteenth century failed to restrict women to the domestic sphere and maintain loyalty to male figures. Similarly, Susan Mann highlights how this was reflected in the Qing legislation. Despite going through numerous reforms and instituting amendments that seemingly protected the lives of women, like in instances of assigning blame on the male perpetrator in heterosexual rape cases, this did not reflect the supposed increasing power/influence of the female voice.[8] These legislative reforms were often intended to rectify the behaviour of Qing officials rather than impose social progressive ideas such as improving the position of women in wider society. Mann argues that in evaluating the provenance of these new laws further emphasis the fact that literate females were not taken seriously. This, therefore, demonstrates the female voice could not have been powerful in eighteenth-century China if, even despite the popularity and support provided by male donors, it could not influence legislation or the attitudes of courtiers who created these laws. Incentives to maintain the patriarchal system of Qing China clearly outweighed the messages within female literature.

 

To return to Lu’s conclusion, ultimately, it is misguided. Focusing solely on how literate courtesan or aristocratic women accepted or rebelled against the Confucian ideology they were intended to accept does not accurately depict the social or political standing of women in the eighteenth century. Especially since, throughout Lu’s assessment, the consequences for the most rebellious, outspoken women were often further domestication or banishment from their socialite peers. By critically analysing Lu’s conclusion against other historians like Lee who account for the expansive illiteracy issue facing eighteenth century China, it is simple to conclude that women at this time could not have been “agents of historical change” as most women could not voice their perspectives or art through literature as the aristocracy did.[9] Overlooking most of the female population then claiming female ‘voice’ in China was strong due to a select view in elitist/courtesan circles are two incompatible notions. Therefore, it would be more accurate to conclude that women’s voice had very little power in the eighteenth century due to the nonrepresentative nature of the sources from that era.

 

Schmidt appropriately addresses this issue; how discourses on the female experience was restricted to the women in the upper echelon of society, not the vast majority of the Chinese populace.[10] Whilst enlightening information, this does not suggest that the poetry written by enlightened women had much of an impact on the politics or wider cultural practices at the time. It is widely regarded that by the eighteenth century, only a minority of women suitable for literati or other court-level suitors were promoted to become literate. Ergo, a vast majority of women in China were excluded from these discourses, from being provided with the opportunity to become literate and express their views or thoughts following neo-Confucian values.[11] Fewer still faced no repercussions. Schmidt goes on to detail instances whereby husbands or in-laws would become suspicious of the wife’s or fiancée’s non-Confucian writing by destroying it or harming the author. Ergo this would suggest that the female voice had little power throughout the eighteenth century. Female-authored poetry is incompatible alongside the maintained male-dominated societal expectations, therefore had poor reception to the patriarchal Chinese society. This suppression of female voices by patriarchal systems and expectations demonstrates how little power their voice had in Chinese society, especially in cultural spheres.

 

Contrary to Lu’s observation, this rise in literacy rates is misleading. They only reflected the upper echelons of Chinese society. For many, female literacy was an inconsequential change, not necessary for improving their standards of living. Maram Epstein notes how successive local uprisings made it difficult to track down and analyse potential sources from more rural women that could prove useful in furthering this and similar assessments.[12] Epstein proposes that most of the cases of literacy in non-courtesan social circles were based on the neo-Confucian, moralistic approach to female literacy. Overall, one of the most popular forms of female literature to result from this movement that survived are a series or compilation of tanci poetry.[13] These were known for providing popular entertainment to court audiences and more popular audiences when performed by actors or orators. Many focused on romantic stories or tales of adultery and betrayal between partners. Qing Le provides an in-depth analysis of a prominent tanci text known from this period called Guwangyan (Preposterous Words). Unlike many this essay as looked at so far, Le concludes that this book provides clear evidence of the affluent ability of female writers to depict feelings of romance, comment and describe life in eighteenth-century China.[14] It is difficult to tell whether it was as prominent contemporaneously as it is in the discourse Le contributes to, but it is useful in demonstrating the prowess some literate women may have had at this time.

 

However, Epstein breaks down many of these showing that a majority of the surviving tanci might have been written by men, like Yuan Mei, posing as their female counterparts, or ironically represent the female voice.[15] Epstein alongside other historians like Paul Ropp highlight there is notable evidence to suggest male authorship under female pennames. While they do not provide a clear conclusion on the potential motives of these male authors, both suggest that it may be an attempt to increase their influence via the wealth accumulated in the distribution and performance of these texts as well as another attempt at propagating neo-Confucian doctrine within affluent female social circles.[16] Both Ropp and Epstein note the prominence of erotica in some of these texts and the emphasis placed on getting audiences to discuss the moralistic implications of adulterous or manipulators and encourage conclusions that lead them back to Confucian morality.[17] Obviously, these factors would suggest weakness of the female voice in eighteenth-century China. The combined works of Ropp and Epstein suggest that the quintessential nature of the Confucian patriarchal system in China led to the hijacking of the female voice. Outlets such as entertainment and poetry were all utilised in some way by men invested in the Qing system of authority to perpetuate and consolidate their authority.

 

Le, again, neatly summarises these points. The female expression in Guwangyan and similar tanci literature is limited to the desire for emotional intimacy in marriage, facilitating and encouraging traditional societal norms on the role of women.[18] Women’s voices were hijacked to promote traditional norms that entrenched the political patriarchal system governing China. The proliferation of female authored, and orientated entertainment does not reinforce ideas of a popular and influential female voice but shows how limited the impact women’s voice had in China. Most of the known popular expressions of women’s voice are disguised in this manner by male authors to promote policies that protect the hierarchical system. They were ironic or had hidden meaning, but more importantly, yet again, did not show any improvements of the growth of influence women had more broadly in China, across all social strata.

 

In conclusion, it is unfair to say that women, all throughout China, had a powerful voice during the eighteenth century. The female voice was inauthentic in the power it had in China during the eighteenth-century. In many instances, publications and outlets for literate women in China were grounded in Confucian morality and philosophy or were utilised to perpetuate the Confucian patriarchal system that became the framework for the cultural and political control the Qing courts relied upon in a tumultuous period in Chinese history. Instances of genuine articulations of the female voice were unrepresentative of the wider female experience in China during this time. Being founded in courtesan culture and the elitist lifestyle therein, expressions and opinions presented in these writings did not and could not speak for women in wider Chinese society. Similarly, given the evidence that is available to historians, it is difficult to conclude to what extent many of the seemingly popular works were authored by women and which were by men. Ultimately, the Confucian patriarchy dominated almost all outlets of expression for or as women in China due to the origins of the female literary movement. Looking to other aspects of Chinese society, legislative reforms did not suggest any changes in opinion or position of women, instead trying to defend the integrity of male Qing officials. In sum, the female voice in China during the eighteenth-century was not very powerful, having minimal influence on Chinese society for women, but did evidently have a role to play in perpetuating Qing control and authority.

 

 

Bibliography

 

Epstein, Maram, ‘Bound by Convention: Women’s Writing and the Feminine Voice in Eighteenth-Century China’, Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature, 26.1 (2007), 97-105.

 

Le, Qing, ‘Reading Bodies: Aesthetics, Gender, And Family in the Eighteenth-Century Chinese Novel Guwangyan (Preposterous Words)’, (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Oregon, 2016).

 

Lee, Wong Yin, ‘Women’s Education in Traditional and Modern China’, Women’s History Review, 4.3 (1995), 345-367.

 

Lu, Weijing, True to Her Word: The Faithful Maiden Cult of Late Imperial China (California: Stanford University Press, 2008).

 

Mann, Susan, Gender and Sexuality in Modern Chinese History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011).

 

Naquin, Susan, and Evelyn Rawski, Chinese Society in the Eighteenth Century (London: Yale University Press, 1987).

 

Ropp, Paul, ‘Women in late imperial China: a review of recent English-language scholarship’, Women’s History Review, 3.3 (1994), 347-383.

 

Rowe, William, Saving the World: Chen Hongmou and Elite Consciousness in Eighteenth-Century China (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001).

 

Schmidt, J.D., ‘The Reception of Eighteenth-Century Women’s Poetry by Two Male Authors, Yuan Mei [][] (1716-98) and Zhang Xuecheng [][][] (1738-1801)’, China Report, 44.1 (2008), 1-21.

[1] Susan Naquin and Evelyn Rawski, Chinese Society in the Eighteenth Century (London: Yale University Press, 1987), p. 59

[2] Weijing Lu, True to Her Word: The Faithful Maiden Cult of Late Imperial China (California: Stanford University Press, 2008), p. 69.

[3] Ibid, p. 70.

[4] Ibid, p 247.

[5] Wong Yin Lee, ‘Women’s Education in Traditional and Modern China’, Women’s History Review, 4.3 (1995), 345-367 (p. 345).

[6] Maram Epstein, ‘Bound by Convention: Women’s Writing and the Feminine Voice in Eighteenth-Century China’, Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature, 26.1 (2007), 97-105 (p. 99).

[7] J.D. Schmidt, ‘The Reception of the Eighteenth-Century Women’s Poetry by Two Male Authors, Yuan [][] (1716-98) and Zhang Xuecheng [][][] (1738-1801)’, China Report, 44.1 (2008), 1-21 (p. 2-3).

[8] Susan Mann, Gender and Sexuality in Modern Chinese History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), p. 68.

[9] Lu, p. 248.

[10] Schmidt, p. 4.

[11] Paul Ropp, ‘Women in late imperial China: a review of recent English-language scholarship’, Women’s History Review, 3.3 (1994), 347-383 (p. 373).

[12] Epstein, p. 97.

[13] Ibid, p. 98.

[14] Qing Le, ‘Reading Bodies: Aesthetics, Gender, And Family in the Eighteenth-Century Chinese Novel Guwangyan (Preposterous Words)’, (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Oregon, 2016), p. 206-207.

[15] Epstein, p. 100.

[16] William Rowe, Saving the World: Chen Hongmou and Elite Consciousness in Eighteenth-Century China (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001), p. 423.

[17] Ropp, p. 364.

[18] Le, p. 213.