Saturday, October 6, 2012

Dunhuang, London


My liaison to Dunhuang can be traced back to high school era. During the busy period of preparing for the National Exam, I bumped into an article titled “Mogao Caves” 莫高窟by Yu Qiuyu. The beginning of the article stroke me: In 366AD, a monk called Lezun 樂尊went to the area of Dunhuang. When he arrived there, it was getting dark. As the sun was setting down, it shone light onto the mountain that Lezun was facing. The reflection of the sunray from the mountain suddenly presented Lezun a phenomenal image: he saw thousands of golden Buddha emerging in front of him. Taking this as a clear message from Buddha, the monk realized how special this place was and began to construct caves in which he offered service for Buddha. Hence the beginning of the Mogao Caves.     
Whether this story is true or not, nobody can tell. But certainly it has the appeal, for monks following the footprint of Lezun, and for a teenager living at the end of the 20th century, that is, me. What Lezun witnessed, we might say from our modern perspective, is a religious experience. The image of Buddha in his mind somehow, with the timely aid of external force, transformed into a physical image, a “real” presentation in front of his very eyes. There is something mysteriously beautiful produced from this process, isn’t it? The dessert, the setting sun, the mountain, and most importantly, the light, the combination of them creates a surreal scene. That scene, obviously, is created by the account of Lezun, and further beautified by Yu Qiuyu. Yet that scene, my first association with Dunhuang, has been engraved on my mind ever since.
Perhaps at the same period, or a bit earlier, I encountered the music of Kitaro 喜多郎. His silk-road album, based on the namesake NHK documentary, was quite impressive, and I immediately became a fan of a song called “Mirage” on that album. The rhythm feels vast and grandiose, but at the same time a melancholic sensitivity for something that is forever lost. The music fits Dunhuang perfectly.
I always wanted to go to Dunhuang. I used to tell my friends that it is the number one place in China I want to visit. Because of this, I have been postposing the trip, saving the best for the last. I hope I can wait until a perfect time, at a perfect age in my life, to pay the tribute.  
The pilgrimage still hasn’t happened yet. But something else happened, which made the past four days very special in my life.
Fast winding of time forward, from teenager to adult. Almost twenty years passed. Now I am studying history. Unplanned but possibly a play of fate, I began to work on medieval Chinese history, which inevitably brought me to the Dunhuang manuscripts. Although it is hard to explicate, I can try to rationalize this choice. Maybe deep in my heart I am always longing for something mysterious, strange, or even spiritual that cannot be easily explained by the material world. There is something beautiful in that realm that attracted me throughout my life. Medieval history is full of strange things: miracle tales, ghost stories, unrestrained behaviors, etc. It might be a cliché already: the period from the Six Dynasties to the Tang is as confusing as exciting; it was a world free of controls, producing all kinds of extraordinary things 異相. This attracts me.    
So here I am, in London, the British Library, reading some Dunhuang manuscripts. These are obviously very special documents, preserved in the cave 17 and later scattered all over the world. The collection at the British Library, often referred to as the Stein Collection, mainly contains the Buddhist scriptures. Although they are not directly related to my work, there are from time to time some non-Buddhist materials embedded in these scriptures. Medicine is no exception.
3 October, 2012. A Wednesday. A day to be remembered in my life. This is my first time to read a Dunhuang manuscript, making it my first time to read any manuscript prior to the 10th century. Yes, these manuscripts are indeed very old (from the 5th to the 11th century). Honest speaking, I don’t think the content of these manuscripts are essential for my research. Nevertheless, the very act of taking a look at them, together with touching them and smelling them, is an illuminating experience. In fact, this is a ritualized research for me. I don’t mean that I bowed before opening the scroll. That would make a scene in the library. I mean I somehow “experienced” these texts as objects, which brought me closer to people in history. Look at them! The writings by the monks who lived more than 1000 years ago have been preserved, unedited, to our own time, and to my very hands. When I read these manuscripts, I cannot help imagining the monks who wrote them; the historical distance between me and them suddenly collapsed. Look, the handwriting of this scroll is not so neat. Are you doing it in a rush or are you not very well educated? See, the drawing of that scroll is quite interesting. Why do you draw these animals along with the talismans? How do you use them? Of course there are no answers from the other side of the dialogue. But never before did I feel so close to the people who lived in so early an era. Anyone who reads these manuscripts cannot help imagining his/her relation to these copyists. And imagination is a powerful thing.
Since the library does not allow taking photos, I needed to copy these manuscripts, by hand. It sounds laborious, and it is, but it is a very special experience. It is part of the ritual. Think in this way: Most of the Dunhuang manuscripts are copies of Buddhist scriptures, made by the pious monks. So what I did in the library is essentially the same as what these monks did more than 1000 years ago. I entered history for a moment, and became part of them! Moreover, as I was doing this, I realized how important copying is. It slowed down your mind, giving you more time to digest the meaning of the text. Perhaps the motivation of those monks to copy down the scriptures is not so far off from mine. [In Japan, this is still an active practice. When I was in Kyoto, I found some temples offered opportunities for visitors to copy scriptures.]
So in the past few days, I have been sitting in the library, copying these manuscripts (five altogether), quietly and carefully. It is a sublime experience. Under one hand, I held the millennium-old manuscript (The oldest one I read was written in 545 AD, the time of the Western Wei西魏. That is almost 1500 year-old.). Under my other hand, a pencil was copying down the text, word by word, line by line, on a modern notebook. Just be absorbed in the text. Nothing else. For two manuscripts, it involved drawing the animals and talismans, which was challenging for me. I may not catch the very spirit embedded in these pictures, but I was giving my best try.
Hence the highlight of my London trip, if not of my life. Saying farewell to my friends in medieval Dunhuang here in the UK, I hope I will meet them again in Paris soon. 

The picture below: the British Library, view from outside.


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