Family

Ying Nan: You are a product of all who came before you. The legacy of your family, the good and the bad, it is all a part of who you are.

Shang-chi (2021)

My kids and I have been watching the Marvel MCU movies for years. My firstborn is particularly a Marvel fan since she was a little girl. Some of the movies are better than others (my personal favorite is Thor: Ragnarok),1 but we both really like the movie Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.

When my wife (who is Japanese) and I first dated, there was an immediate clash of cultures. I was a generic American white kid who grew up in an impoverished broken home with lots of issues, my wife grew up in a working-class Japanese family that was not overly traditional, but still very Japanese compared to American standards. The fact we were dating in the first place was a bit awkward for her and her parents, whereas I hardly ever talked to my own parents.

The good news is that over time, we learned to understand one another, and that means that I too learned to appreciate her viewpoint sometimes. For example, family.

Even when she disagreed with her parents, she still respected them, and understood her family obligations. This was something frankly new to me because I openly rebelled against my parents, told my dad off, and hardly paid them any heed. I gradually did reconcile with my parents to some degree as I got older (and a bit wiser), to a level where we can get along, but more importantly I learned to accept that I am who I am due to my family. Like the quote above says, you can’t deny your own heritage, both the good and the bad, and that it does shape who you are.

But also, through my wife and through parenting myself, I learned that I do owe some level of gratitude to my parents for what they did. I chose not to be like my parents in how I raise my kids, but even that is something I learned from them.2 Thus, the lesson I learned from my wife is that I also have to be humble, and respectful to my parents enough to acknowledge what they’ve done for me, even if I disagree with them. This is a very Confucian outlook, but I can see the value in this.3

It rubs against my American sense of individualism, but I’ve found it a valuable lesson over the years, and something I think we can all learn from.

P.S. Xu Wenwu, the father in Shang-chi, is a great example of a plausible chaotic-evil person in Dungeons and Dragons: he craves absolute power and yet is also capable of being in love, being a father, etc. Yet, he inevitably bends everything toward evil or ruin, including his lawful-good wife, Ying Li. Tony Leung Chiu-wai‘s performance was excellent.

1 The Thor movies do a really nice job of weaving science fiction with magic and myth, much like Roger Zelazny did in his books generations ago (Lord of Light, the Amber Series, Creatures of Light and Darkness, etc.). Put simply, I like weird, transcendent stuff more than the “grounded” story lines like Captain America or Black Widow.

2 In Japanese there is a four-character phrase for this: hanmen kyōshi (反面教師) meaning to learn from a bad example (i.e. what not to do).

3 This importance in family isn’t even limited to Confucian-influenced cultures. You can find it in many unrelated world cultures where family is emphasized, and respect towards one’s ancestors. For whatever reason, it is not emphasized in Western culture, and maybe to our detriment I think.

Enjoying This Moment

This was a neat dialogue between two of the characters in Fire Emblem: Three Houses that I wanted to post here.1 It’s very Buddhist in my opinion.

Or as Leonard Nimoy said before his passing…

I am one of those people who likes to take lots of photos of scenery on my phone, but I admit whenever I do this, the photos just aren’t the same as the original experience. I never could fully explain this to myself until I saw the dialogue above.

It reminds me of a famous quote from the Analects of Confucius:

[9:17]  子在川上曰。逝者如斯夫 不舍晝夜。
The Master [Confucius], standing by a river, said,
“It goes on like this, never ceasing day or night!”

Translation by A. Charles Muller

Anyhow, that’s all I wanted to post. Enjoy! 🙏🏼

1 I haven’t talked about it as much lately, but I’ve been playing FE3H pretty much non-stop since last August, and am on my fifth play-through. I can confidently say this is one of my favorite all-time games.

A New Dawn

I’ve been thinking about this conversation, shown above, from the game Fire Emblem: Three Houses. The game was made in 2019, just before the Pandemic, and other nonsense that went on in 2020 onward. How prophetic that statement was. Then again, I suppose this is something every generation has to live through in some ways. Sooner or later, things change, we lose something in the process and never get it back.

Wise words indeed…

It reminds me of a quote from the Analects of Confucius:

[9:17] The Master [Confucius], standing by a river, said, “It goes on like this, never ceasing day or night!”

Translation by A. Charles Muller

or Gandalf in the Fellowship of the Ring:

“Well, what can I tell you? Life in the wide world goes on much as it has these past age, full of its own comings and goings…”

J.R.R. Tolkien

Seen from another way though, this also means that new things come as well. Sometimes this can be scary, sometimes this can be a positive thing.

I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective.

The Joseon Dynasty of Korea: death by factions

If political gridlock, government shutdowns due to budget fights, and rabid factionalism get you down, consider the case of the Joseon Dynasty of Korea (1392–1894). The Joseon Dynasty, also known as Joseon-guk in Korean (朝鮮國, 조선국) was the last and longest of royal dynasties of Korea. At 502 years long, it is also among the longest dynasties in world history.

After the rise of Buddhism in East Asia, Confucian teachings took a backseat for a time, until it re-emerged centuries later under a doctrine called Neo-Confucianism. Neo-Confucianism is a fascinating subject all by itself, but it’s a hard one to describe to Western audiences. It’s enough to know that it was an effort to reinforce early Confucian ethics with more philosophy and metaphysics, while avoiding mysticism.

This is important because Neo-Confucianism became the official state doctrine early the foundation the Joseon Dynasty, just as it had become Ming-Dynasty China and Tokugawa-era Japan. Schools of Confucian scholars would staff the elaborate bureaucracies used by each sovereign, and provide advice on policies, or criticism if the sovereign’s conduct was deemed inappropriate or immoral. As the beacon of a rational and orderly society, the sovereign was held to a very high standard, but also (in theory) commanded unwavering loyalty from his subjects. Because orderly and rational societies were valued by Confucian thinking, there was heavy emphasis on ritual, etc. Everyone had their place, and everyone was expected to carry out their moral obligations, putting the needs of society over their own profit.

On paper, this was how it all worked.

In reality, the Confucian bureaucracy (the yangban) of Korea grew very powerful, and different schools of Confucian thought began to compete with one another for dominance in the Joseon bureaucracy. Over generations, these rivalries grew very cutthroat, and worse they splintered into sub-factions, and sub-sub-factions, all vying with one another. Further, sons of bureaucrats had the wealth and resources necessary to ensure they’d pass the civil service exams and become bureaucrats themselves. The Iron Law of Oligarchy comes to mind.

Source: https://xkcd.com/1095

This might seem kind of silly at first glance, since it obviously contradicted basic Confucian ethics.

However, this all began when bureaucrats in the court would debate how to address policy issues at the time, or question certain political appointments. Inevitably reform and conservative wings developed with different views of how to address such issues, and the leading figures of each wing would try to then pack the bureaucracy with their own men.

Is this starting to sound familiar?

The back and forth by factions, starting with the Easterners (dong-in, 동인 or 東人) and Westerners (seo-in, 서인 or 西人) began over subtle ideological disagreements. Then, each of these factions broke up into different factions. The Westerns faction alone broke up into the Noron (노론, 老論) and Soron (소론, 少論) depending on whether you supported Confucian scholar Song Si-yeol‘s reformist policies (the Noron) or not (the Soron). The Easterner faction similarly split up into Buk-in (“northerners”, 북인, 北人) and Nam-in (“southerners”, 남인, 南人) factions.

The king’s response to each of these factions varied by sovereign. In some cases, a king would support one faction over another. But if that faction got too powerful or out of line, the losing faction could sometimes convince the king to purge them from the bureaucracy. Sometimes the purges became extremely violent, with many faction members executed such as the one in 1589.

Inevitably, once a faction was crushed or purged, another would take its place in the court and consoldiate power, requiring yet another purge. By 1545 there had already been four blood purges.

Portrait of King Yeongjo of Joseon, source

By the time of King Yeongjo (1694 – 1776, 영종, 英宗) the fighting between factions and the bloody purges had gotten so out of hand, that Yeongjo survived an assassination attempt in his youth.

Yeongjo tried to take the high-ground in the conflict, implementing a policy of Tangpyeong (탕평, 蕩平) or “great harmony”. Yeongjo tried to stay above the fray and remained somewhat successful. Barely. By the reign of the next king, his grandson Jeongjo, the bureaucrats were at it again and King Jeongjo fought off a coup by the Noron faction.

In spite of the coup, the Noron dominates the court after Jeongjo’s later (and mysterious) death until they were ousted for good, but by this time the functions of government were locked in by certain powerful families and from the 1800’s onward the Joseon became isolationist and dysfunctional at a time when Western and Japanese powers grew in strength and aggression. The reforms of 1895 were simply too little too late to save the Dynasty and Korea was annexed by Iapan in 1905.

Much like the Eastern Roman Empire (i.e. the Byzantines), the Joseon Dynasty survived and thrived at times when there was a powerful ruler who could push for reforms, and keep interests in check. But there were always sharks circling the water, and as soon as they smelled weakness there would be bloody infighting and this would reset the clock on any meaningful reforms. Paralyzed by internal strife, other more dynamic, external powers eventually pulled ahead and defeated them.

Portrait of Kim Yuk (1570 – 1658), source.

It also should be noted that were plenty of good, sincere Confucian scholars who made a genuine effort at good governance, such as Kim Yuk, but in the end, powerful men always felt they could do it better when they sensed an opportunity.

P.S. astute readers may have noticed that I keep posting the names using both Hangeul script and Chinese characters (Hanja). Until the modern era, both were used together in a kind of mixed fashion, especially when a person wanted to avoid ambiguity (the Chinese characters are more distinct). Compared to neighbors like Japan or China, Chinese characters were used comparatively less (Hangeul was usually sufficient and simpler), but remain an important part of the language and culture.

Don’t Play To Win

A board and pieces for playing “double six”, from the Chinese Liao dynasty, photo by Augusthaiho, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

For those of you who are competing somewhere, consider the following the advice from Kenko in the 13th century Japanese text, the Essays in Idleness:

I once asked someone skilled at the board game of sugoroku for hints on how to play. “Don’t play to win,” he said. “Play not to lose. Consider what moves would make you lose most quickly, and avoid them. Choose a method that will make you lose after your opponent, even if only by a single square.

This lesson from one who knows his art equally applies to the arts of governing both self and nation.

Translation by Meredith McKinney

Good advice, I think.

Of course, sometimes the best way to win is to not play, too. 😎 Of, if playing Dungeons and Dragons, you’re probably just there for the loot anyway. 💰

Letters and Swords

16th-century warlord Uesugi Kenshin viewing the moon, from One Hundred Aspects of the Moon woodblock prints by Yoshitoshi, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

While watching the movie Top Gun on Netflix,1 I got to thinking about how different cultures view the “ideal man”, or “ideal person”. This reminded me of a Japanese yojijukugo phrase 文武両道 (bunbu ryōdō). Breaking it down, the phrase means:

  • 文 – letters, literacy or cultural refinement
  • 武 – martial prowess, or martial warfare (also used in 武士 “bushi”, an alternative word for samurai)
  • 両 – both
  • 道 – paths

The meaning here is that the ideal person is a one who has an equal measure of literacy and martial prowess. The image of samurai as “warrior poets” has been immortalized in literature and art, and an inspiration for modern Japanese as well.

My wife growing up in Japan studied calligraphy for many years and got certified to teach, while also doing kendo (Japanese fencing) from middle school all the way through the university where we met.2 Nowadays, we kind of joke about this with our kids, but we are proud to see that both of them have taken up some kind of artistic interest, but also do sports as well. Further, we try to raise them as bilingual as possible.

The origins of this ideal are interesting and rooted in Chinese-Confucian thought where the ideal is that of a “gentleman”, a man both cultivated learning and virtue. The early Japanese Imperial Court (6th century – 12th century) was heavily based on the Chinese Confucian model where the Emperor was supported by a bureaucracy of scholars and administrators, all trained in Confucian classics, and highly refined.

Much later, in the Edo Period, when warfare finally ended for 250+ years, samurai were needed as administrators, so they had to be well-lettered, but also still had to maintain martial prowess in case the Shogunate called upon them for warfare. Serve the Shogunate in times of peace, and in times of war. During the early-modern Meiji Period, such samurai transitioned to businessmen and government officials, and the ideal persisted in the education system, business culture, military, etc.

Of course, the ironic thing about “ideals” is that for every person who embodies an them, there are plenty of people who don’t. So, it’s hard to say whether the majority of samurai sincerely upheld this ideal or not. Similarly, the “All-American Boy” that I knew in high school ended up getting his girlfriend pregnant shortly after graduation, and was forced into a shotgun wedding… or so I heard. 😏

1 TL;DR this movie really hasn’t aged well. I loved it as a kid in the 80’s, but as an adult, I stopped watching after about 20 minutes.

2 Long story short, we met at the local university kendo club by pure chance, and the rest is history. I definitely did not embody 文武両道 and only did kendo for about a year then quit after a foot injury that still lingers 20 years later, nor did I learn any cultured arts growing up welfare and with a single mom working two jobs. Nevertheless, in spite of coming from two different worlds, we’ve been happily married since then. Love is funny that way. 😏