The Social Life of Inkstones Read Along: Chapter 3

[forestofglory]

Welcome to the second post of our read a long of The Social Life of Inkstones: Artisans and Scholars in Early Qing China by Dorothy Ko! For this post we are reading: "Chapter 3: Suzhou"

Previous posts:
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

You are welcome to join in at any time!

In this chapter we meet Gu Erniang and several other inkstone carvers and some of their patrons. Here are some optional discussion questions:

What where the main arguments in this chapter? Did you find them convincing?

Did any historical figures introduced in the chapter stand out to you? In what way?

Did any of the inkstones or other objects in the chapter stand out to you? In what way?

What did this chapter make you want to learn more about?

Did anything in this chapter remind you of fiction you enjoy? Or inspire creative writing thoughts fic or otherwise?

(I might be slow to respond because my wrist has been acting up again)

Comments

[rhysiana]

Finally I get a chance to read the chapter and respond! (Stupid real life this week, ugh.) My thoughts on this chapter aren't lining up neatly with the usual questions, so forgive this sort of mish-mash response:

I appreciated Ko's mention of the difficulties in finding true records of handcrafts and craftspeople, because this has certainly been my experience in trying to research other East Asian handcraft histories. (Particularly hampered by my own interest being in a craft that is almost entirely done by women and falling on the craft side of the officially recognized arts vs. folk crafts divide in Japan.)

This is somewhat connected to my next note to myself: "Gu Erniang's circle of admirers - cliquish popularity of commercial artists," which sparked thoughts of modern day artists who can become popular in niche circles via social media (or fan artists, for that matter), who may or may not sign their art, regardless of how passionately a follower collects their work. Particularly if an artist/artisan makes physical objects out of unusual materials (fiber arts, etc.), signing the work may not even be considered standard practice. But also, the longish passage about her circle of admirers in Fuzhou made it uncomfortably clear how quickly her livelihood could have been taken away if she had fallen out of favor.

This latter point was also emphasized by the discussion of the contemporary Yang brothers, who lived as itinerant assistants to officials. At first, this seems like a more stable arrangement, as they had personal patrons, but given that they both died young and, it sounds like, overworked, and since Ko later makes the point that Gu Erniang's static location at her workshop gave her more stability for customers to find her, it seems like she really did luck out on several axes.

(Fictional thought aside: The job as a specialty assistant to a traveling scholar/official would make good cover for a spy.)

The following passage inspired thoughts about class and status in various c-dramas:

It is not known if Dongyi returned the tribute with a poem of his own, but it does not matter. In the world of scholarly etiquette, to be sent a poem, just as to be invited to view flowers with other scholars, conferred a vicarious status of “scholar” on the recipient. The contrast between Lin Fuyun’s view of Yang as “not-quite” a scholar and You’s assessment of “scholar and more” serves as a reminder that the so-called social status of a person was conferred by others, hence subjected to a degree of subjective judgment.

It could be a good detail in a fic focused on a social climbing character to have them assiduously collecting invitations. (A thing that I've actually seen in SFF--I think it was in Ann Leckie's Provenance that collection of forged invitations is a plot point.)

Xie Ruqi, our romantic artisan-scholar with the bannerman admirer from the first chapter, is back! I enjoyed the picture Ko painted of the meeting of colleagues here.

One of the names used to refer to Gu was contrived: “female knight-errant” refers not to Gu’s deeds but is triggered by the association between the knife-wielding ancient assassin Zhuanzhu, whom many considered a hero, and the knife-wielding female artisan (an association common among those who spread her legends).

So interesting to see the earlier explanation of the name of the street her shop was on brought up again here. (Who else wants a story about an artisan by day, assassin by night now?)

This does also remind me though that I thought it was kind of an odd choice to so closely tie the introduction of Gu Erniang in this book to the idea of forgery. The opening of the chapter introduces her street first as one well-known for forgers, and then things close with thoughts on how often she herself appears to have been forged. (It reminded me of the special exhibit our art museum did on works attributed to Rembrandt that have since been reclassified as fakes/forgeries or, more correctly, works from his workshop that his various apprentices and assistants did rather than him personally. I'm not entirely sure how these two lines of thought intersect yet, so it'll be interesting to see what the next chapters say about Gu Erniang's influence after her fame spread.)

A very intriguing passage to end the chapter on:

The Suzhou writer Zhu Xiangxian related that Gu (whom he called Qinniang) often discoursed orally on her philosophy of inkstone making in these words: “An inkstone is carved from a piece of rock; it would have to become round and lively as well as fat and opulent before the wonders of carving is made apparent. If the inkstone appears dull, dry, emaciated, and stiff, it is in fact the original face of the rock. Then what good did the carving do?” These words highlight the transformative power of the artisan at work: her artistry is none other than the generative work of heaven’s creation that bestows life onto the stone. Carving stone is thus the ultimate act of “culture” improving upon “nature.”

Makes me wish we had more records of her actual thoughts!

[forestofglory]

It has taken me forever but I am finally replying!

Anyways don't worry about sticking to the discussion questions -- they are very optional. (Sometimes I have hard time knowing what to say without a starting point)

Great point about how precarious everyone's livelihoods where.

The bit about being sent a poem really does feel like something out of a drama!

I really get the impression that Ko wanted to know so much more about Gu Erniang, and kept expanding the scope of her research due to limited sources.

[rhysiana]

I really get the impression that Ko wanted to know so much more about Gu Erniang, and kept expanding the scope of her research due to limited sources.

Unfortunately relatable.